JediScribe

Father's Day Fic Snippet

Different Paths What if the Empire’s finest were a little more competent at preventing a royal jailbreak? What if Luke and Darth Vader met face-to-helmet in a Death Star prison cell? What if a certain redhead showed up earlier than usual? An alternate version of the Death Star rescue from ANH.

Luke prowled his small cell, adrenaline surging through him. Where was Ben, he wondered. Would he know they’d been captured? Would Threepio and Artoo direct him to the cells? Would Ben mount a more effective rescue than he had?

It had been reckless, of course, but he really thought it could work. Would work. Should have worked. When he’d seen it in his mind, they’d overcome any Imperial resistance with the element of surprise.

He sat on the hard durasteel bench jutting out from the wall. His adrenaline was receding. His knees bounced in a rhythmic fidget. He breathed in the smell of recycled air, hot metal, sterilizing cleaning solution, and his own sweat. The sounds of the bright lights buzzed in his ears.

He felt a sudden temperature drop. He looked for a vent blowing out a chill blast.

The door of his cell slid open, and the source of the cold swept inside. He was tall and cloaked in a black cape, shining helmet, and mechanical breastplate. Two stormtroopers accompanied him.

“Who are you?” The stranger’s deep voice seemed to shake the walls. Even the stormtroopers took a step back from him, Luke saw.

Luke’s fear thundered his heart against his ribs. He refused to show it.

“My name is Luke Lars.” His voice was strong and defiant. The sight of his aunt and uncle’s smoking, ashen skeletons was in his mind’s eye. The Empire had murdered them, had captured the princess, himself, Han, Chewie, maybe even Ben. What did he have to lose now?

He almost didn’t use the alias his aunt and uncle had drilled into him. Why would it matter?

“Where are you from, Luke Lars?” the dark figure demanded.

Luke scoffed. “Does it matter?” What did anything matter?

“It matters because I say it matters. Your ship came from Tatooine. Is that where you were born?”

“Sure. Fine. I’m from Tatooine. Your troopers murdered my family there.” Luke’s anger flared. To his surprise, his interrogator took a step backwards.

“My Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen.” Luke forged on, spitting words now. “They raised me because my parents died. My father was murdered, too. And he was a Jedi knight!” The shock of the revelations of the last two days bubbled out of him in outrage.

The black mask tilted back slightly, as if Luke had physically attacked him. The floor beneath Luke’s feet began to vibrate.

A black-clad arm raised and reached toward Luke, while still a meter away. Luke felt himself lifted. He resisted, trying to regain control. Fear quickened his breathing. Then stuck in a constricting airway. His fingers automatically reached for his throat, trying to pry the invisible grip off. His mind spun trying to make sense of what was happening. But an explanation became less and less relevant as his body struggled for breath.

Soft Spots and Blind Spots

Mara generated her best small talk, dancing around the purpose of her visit, as they made their way from the ship to his office.

Assuming this was some sort of business meeting, Luke took the seat behind his desk and placed a datapad on the surface. 

He looked tired. “What can I do for you, Mara?” 

She wandered around the office, browsing the model ships and family holos that were scattered among the natural stone shelves that jutted from the walls.

“I was just on Coruscant and Leia tried to tell me that—that you have a ‘soft spot’ for me. And I told her she was crazy.”

When she didn’t say more, that little crease appeared between his eyebrows. “That’s it? You want me to…settle a bet?”

She allowed the adrenaline of her embarrassment and the judgment in his confusion to fill her. It propelled her across the room, where she perched on the edge of his desk next to where he sat. Leaning close to him, she watched for his reaction.

“Anything?” she asked, her voice low and throaty.

1: GIVING GIFTS

The last entry in the Twelve Days of Ficmas prompts, dreadfully late!

During a visit to Coruscant for Liberty Day, Mara and Luke exchange gifts.

Note: All the ficmas entries are ficlets set in the same AU as They Say You Killed a Rancor with Your Bare Hands. All you need to know is: Mara and Luke met and found romance earlier than in the EU. It's 7 ABY, and they are flying around in a SoroSuub 3000 yacht, researching Jedi history and looking for artifacts.

“Happy Liberty Day!” Luke offered Mara a fresh cup of caf as she shuffled into the kitchen in his quarters. She took it from him with a grunt and a kiss of gratitude.

“Is that the holiday we’ve come back for this time?” She mumbled as her bleary eyes focused. She wore a light robe over the red sleep shirt she’d stolen from him. The robe provided coverage while still flattering her form.

“Yeah, I’ve got to make some official appearances,” Luke waved his hand dismissively. He’d grabbed a bright yellow sleepshirt from his shirt to top his red sleep pants. Mara wondered if it would damage her eyes to stare at the shirt for too long.

“Is that your schedule for the day, Hero of Yavin?” Her tone teased, and her chin bobbed toward the datapad in his hand.

“This? No.” A strange feeling fell across his sense. Uncertainty? Nervousness? Mara tilted her head in an effort to read him.

“It’s just an idea.” He tipped the datapad back against his chest so she couldn’t see the screen.

Mara drank her coffee steadily, waiting for the last of the mental cobwebs to clear. Luke would explain when he was ready.

“I’ve been thinking about the ship’s name. When we landed on Ryloth, you told the controller it was the Jedi’s Fire.”

“Just to amuse myself. It popped into my head because of the flames painted all over the hull. SoruYacht-41299 didn’t seem poetic enough for Ryloth.”

“Agreed. It needs a name. And it needs an official registration. We played a little fast and loose with that when it was gifted to our strike team that rescued those trafficked younglings. Since it wasn’t an official mission, that wasn’t straightforward.”

“Uh-huh.” Mara remembered when Luke had first unveiled the yacht that they’d been using to find historical Jedi sites and collect artifacts for study. He’d made the argument that the rest of the strike team had voted that she should keep the yacht for herself. Mara had resisted, unable to claim something she didn’t feel she deserved.

Luke’s tone shifted to a lower register. “Mara, you fly that ship like it’s a part of you. You know all its sounds, its strengths and weaknesses, its maintenance schedule.”

“The backup power cells need replacing since we used some up.” She mentally inventoried the parts needed now that they were planetside.

“Exactly—case in point.” Luke nodded. “So here’s the registration I think we should submit.” He handed her the datapad.

She took it from him, questions spinning in her head. Her eyes lingered on the first two fields.

Owner Name: Mara Jade Ship Name: Jade’s Fire

She forced herself to keep reading. None of the other fields triggered similar reactions.

Mara’s mouth opened to repeat her objections from months ago. She heard herself say, “She’s such a pretty ship. Thanks to you.”

“Thanks to Sabine,” he corrected.

“Who didn’t just show up in the middle of the night to paint a random ship. You hired her.”

“Yes. And she did a beautiful job. On a ship that needs registration.” Luke steered back to the subject.

Mara opened her mouth again, determined to convince him she neither needed nor deserved a ship. Any ship. Not even her ship. Her Fire.

A strangled sob is all that came out.

Luke took the datapad from her and put his arms around her. “It’s OK. It’s alright.” She let the tears come. She had cried on his shoulder more than she’d ever cried in front of any other people throughout her life combined. Vaguely, she wondered if his Jedi skills included transforming his shoulder into sponge-moss when necessary.

Perceptions of unworthiness and shame poured out of her in a flood. Beliefs that she’d allowed the Emperor to instill about her finally dissolved enough to wash away.

As the tension eased from her body, her breathing became more regular. A memory crossed her mind of jerking back from him as soon as she recovered herself, embarrassed and growling. It seemed a lifetime ago.

Now she settled into that spot where his neck met his shoulder. She breathed in his scent. Her favorite. After a few deep inhales, she straightened and stepped out of his hold.

She picked up the datapad and tapped a digital signature into the form. She reviewed the information one last time. A small smile came to her lips. She submitted the form. Then stepped back to Luke for a long, slow kiss.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Me? For what? The ship came from one of the youngling’s families.”

“You know for what. For talking me around to it. For helping me see. For believing in me.”

“I wish you could see from the outside how easy you are to believe in.”

“OK, OK, don’t push it,” Mara cautioned. She took his hand and led him out to the conversation circle in the front room. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him down to a seat on the couch. “Your turn—wait here.”

Luke frowned. His turn for what?

She ducked into the bedroom for a few moments, then returned, holding a parcel in both hands. As she handed it to him, he took in the glittery tissue paper around the outside.

“You know you didn’t have to do this, right?” Luke unwrapped the tissue.

“I do know that, yes.” Mara smiled. Inside, she crossed her fingers, hoping he would like it.

“Holocrons! Thank you so much, I don’t have any.” They’d been researching for months, finding historic Jedi temples. They’d built a small collection of holocrons in various states of readability. Three more now peeked at him through the torn tissue.

“Really, Jedi Skywalker, you are getting so sarcastic.”

“It’s the company I keep.” He turned the top holocron in his hands, looking for labels or telltale markings. Had Mara held these back when she’d found them, waiting to present them as a gift?

She remained silent, watching him.

“They’re not too old…maybe a few decades?” Compared to other finds they’d made, that was relatively new. He couldn’t think of any sites where they’d been that would match a newer set of holocrons.

Mara just raised her eyebrows at him.

“’See for yourself, Skywalker,’ huh?” He placed it on the low table in front of them. Eyes closed, he used the Force to visualize it open and projecting.

Obediently, the holocron rose from the surface. The corners separated from the core, which emitted a whirring sound. A hologram appeared in front of them. The resolution was sharp.

“Greetings, I am Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight. And this holocron is going to help you practice my modifications to Form IV.”

Luke’s breath caught. He stared at the young man’s projection. Anakin’s thick blond hair fell slightly below his ears. The shade of blue in his eyes was the same as the one that looked back at Luke from the mirror every morning. As he moved, Anakin’s dark brown overtunic appeared to be covered by a darker layer inlaid with the Jedi symbol—armor, perhaps?

His voice was young and strong, nothing like the rasp with which he’d spoken his last words to Luke.

Powerful emotions swelled in Luke’s chest, fighting for room—surprise, joy, grief, regret, hope. He’d never seen his father at this age. They’d had so little time together. And most of that time had been spent swinging lightsabers at each other. Yet here Anakin was, teaching his own favorite dueling technique, with warmth and humor.

Mara experienced the waves of feeling, which Luke had not bothered to shield from her.

“Are you OK?” she whispered. She put a hand on his leg. Perhaps she’d made a poor choice of gift.

“I’m…I’m….” He turned and reached for her, crushing her against his chest. “Thank you. Thank you.” She sank into him, reveling in his delight.

He lay his cheek against the top of her head and gazed at the hologram of his father demonstrating blocks, attacks, and acrobatics. “Where did you find these?” In a flash of uncharacteristic greed, he wondered if there were more.

“Tionne found them in the Emperor’s vault. I’ve been working with her and Ghent to crack all the security. We just got in last week. Tionne commed to say she’d found these, and I asked her to set them aside. She only saw the beginning of each. No one else has seen them all the way through. That—I mean—” Mara’s usual composure deserted her as she searched for words. “It should be you.”

“Maybe it should be us,” he murmured into her hair.

2: HOLIDAY BAKING

My ninth of ten chapters responding to the Twelve Days of Ficmas prompts.

After a break for IRL holidays, I am picking up where I left off with the Twelve Days of Ficmas 2025. In 2026!

Here, Mara, Leia, Mirax, Winter, and Iella change their plans for Ladies' Night due to a droid malfunction.

Note: These entries will be are ficlets set in the same AU as They Say You Killed a Rancor with Your Bare Hands. All you need to know is: Mara and Luke met and found romance earlier than in the EU. It's 7 ABY, and they are flying around in a SoroSuub 3000 yacht, researching Jedi history and looking for artifacts. And frequently coming back to Coruscant to unload and visit.

Mara, Winter, Mirax, and Iella stood in a crescent around Leia Organa’s front door. Winter hit the door chime.

The door slid open; C-3PO stood just inside. “Please come in, ladies. Mistress Leia is in the kitchen. She asked that you join her.”

“The kitchen? She’s hungry?” Mirax said. “If she’d met us at the cantina, we’d be eating dinner now.”

The four women followed Threepio, though they all knew the way. As they stepped into the kitchen, they saw Leia. A balled fist rested on her waist, and she was peering up into the faceplate of a gleaming, new chef droid. “One more time,” she said to it very, very softly. “What are the ingredients in jelly Life Day orbs?”

“Jelly Life Day orb is a straightforward dish. It requires sugar, water, gelatin, and bantha meat.”

Leia blew out a sigh and looked at her friends. Her normally immaculate hair escaped in strands around her face. She wore a short-sleeved knit shirt and comfortable-looking quilted pants in complementary shades of rust. Her ears and neck were bare. Still poised and beautiful, it was the most casual Mara had ever seen the councilor. Mara kept her features arranged in an expression of sympathy for buggy droids while feeling the wonder of being allowed to witness this.

“Bantha meat,” Leia repeated to her friends. “Now, which of you remembers eating those wonderful jelly Life Day bantha meat orbs?”

“To be fair, I didn’t celebrate Life Day until recently,” Winter said, ever diplomatic. “But I wouldn’t want a droid making me a jelly orb with bantha meat in it.”

“I’m sorry.” Leia surveyed her friends’ clothing, jewelry, hair and makeup. “I should have let you know I was hung up with a droid problem. I lost track of time around the point Han and Luke were reassembling the thing this afternoon. This morning, it was putting ingredients directly in the garbage and then putting empty pans in the oven to bake. So the guys took it apart and replaced a bunch of parts, and we thought it was fixed. I’ve just now discovered its creative recipe algorithm.”

She put her face in her hands briefly, then straightened. “Which is a very long way to say, you should all go back out without me and have a great time.”

“You need a replacement droid? I got suppliers,” Mirax suggested.

“Thanks, Mirax, I can deal with this.” Leia waved a hand up and down the height of the droid. “The issue now is timing. I can’t get a replacement droid until tomorrow at the earliest, and this one was supposed to spend today baking for our Life Day party tomorrow night. I can probably get some last-minute orders into the bakeries in the morning if I call in some favors. And hope that’s enough food to keep people from leaving hungry. But I’ve got to stay in tonight and plan it out.”

Winter looked around. “I see before me five intelligent, competent women with, I’m assuming, varying levels of baking, not to mention planning, experience. Surely, we can bake something tonight. Maybe lots of things?”

“I like to bake,” Iella volunteered. “It relaxes me when I’m stressed. After Diric died, I kept the Rogues and Wraiths in goodies for weeks.”

“Yeah, I know my way around the kitchen, too. I cooked and baked for Booster growin’ up. But if that gets back to Corran…” Mirax turned a slow circle around her friends, her index finger pointing out. “I will know it was one of you.”

“You are the one who can’t keep a secret,” Iella huffed.

“I worked undercover for a while in a fine dining kitchen. I learned a few things,” Mara said.

“I know about procurement,” Winter said. “Whatever we need, I can get it.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Leia shifted into her authoritative voice. “No, you are not spending Ladies’ Night working in the kitchen.”

“Then we’ll spend it playing in the kitchen,” Winter said. “Sounds like Iella and Mirax will be pastry chefs, Mara’s their sous chef, I’ll inventory and procure ingredients. And you can tell us how many people need to be fed and what kinds of pastries to make. And select music for our newly transformed Ladies’ Night.”

Leia was still attempting to object as her friends shed dangling earrings, statement necklaces, and high heels. Mara wound her fishtail braid around the crown of her head. Iella gathered her loose tresses into a messy bun. Winter located a stash of aprons, which she handed out.

Leia closed her mouth again. She knew when a battle was lost.

“OK, fine. we’re expecting about fifty. If we have absolutely nothing else, we have to have jelly orbs.” She surveyed her data pad. “Mmmm…next would be Mirial teacakes or Kashyyyk cake. Ideally, rorkid bread for a savory option.”

Winter tapped on her data pad, bringing up lists of ingredients and looking through cabinets. “OK, we can start on jelly orbs and cakes. I’ll order some items we’re missing for the others.”

Iella stood behind Winter, taking the supplies one by one and setting them out.

“Oh, Malla lent me some cassettes of a chef she follows,” Leia said. “That might be helpful. I’ll grab a cassette player from Han’s shop.”

When she returned, Mirax stood over the cooker, stirring a steaming pot. Iella giggled as she regaled her friends with the details of her latest date with Wedge.

Mara lined up spherical molds for the jelly orbs. Iella punched buttons to heat the oven for cake baking.

“Here’s a cassette for that Kashyyyk cake, with Gormaanda.” Leia loaded the cassette and activated the player.

“Great—I’ll get started with that,” Iella volunteered.

The conversation tailed off as the women watched the chef on the screen. Iella followed along as Winter supplied her with ingredients.

Mirax poured the heated jelly from the pot into the molds, humming the Life Day song softly to herself.

The Kashyyyk cake proceeded smoothly until Iella turned to the mascarpone that would be layered between cake bites in a parfait.

“Wait, she has four arms!” Iella squinted at the screen. “Where is she from?!”

“Whip, whip, stir!” Gormaanda demanded.

“But I only have two arms!” Iella protested, trying to keep pace.

Laughing, Mara stepped to her side with a large spoon. She plunged the spoon into the mixture next to Iella’s whip. “Now you have three.”

Mirax grabbed another whip and came up on Iella’s other side. “Four!” The two whips and spoon tangled and banged, spattering the three chefs’ aprons as they accelerated to match Gormaanda’s speed.

Leia and Winter giggled at the sight. As Leia slid the jelly orbs into the refrigeration unit, her gaze fell on the Alderaanian sparkling wine in the chiller next to it. She pulled the bottle from its spot and set about opening it. It seemed to suit the mood of the evening.

Winter’s eyes widened when she saw the label.

“Leia!” She whispered.

“We can’t save it forever. It’s a good way to thank you all.” Leia poured two glasses and passed one to Winter. They clinked the rims together with a smile.

Hours later, Han hit the switch for the kitchen doors. They slid open quietly, revealing a party in full swing on the other side.

Dance music rolled over him from the kitchen audio system. Sheets of fragrant rorkid bread lay cooling on racks. Fresh gloomroot pancakes sizzled just beside the cooker.

Leia and her friends took no notice of him. They danced around the kitchen, chanting to the beat, “Stir, whip! Stir, whip! Whip, whip, STIR! ” They waved various utensils over their heads.

Han let the doors close without stepping through. Threepio approached from the hall.

“Sir—” Threepio’s next words were muffled through Han’s fingers, as they closed over the droid’s speaker. Leia had admonished Han about doing this to Threepio, but Leia could not see him just now.

“I’m tired. I’m going to bed. I don’t want to know.”

3: BEDTIME STORY

The tenth entry in the Twelve Days of Ficmas prompts.

Luke, Mara, Leia, Han, and friends gather after the official Life Day celebrations to tell stories into the night.

Note: This ficlet is set in the same AU as They Say You Killed a Rancor with Your Bare Hands. All you need to know is: Mara and Luke met and found romance earlier than in the EU. It's 7 ABY, and they are flying around in a SoroSuub 3000 yacht, researching Jedi history and looking for artifacts.

“Bedtime stories,” Winter read off the card.

Reaction rippled through the friends gathered at Leia’s for a post Life Day celebration.

Through negotiation, bribery, and mild threats, they had settled on a game of storytelling as guided by topics on a stack of cards. 

Han and Mara exchanged glances. Neither had grown up in the kind of situation in which anyone had told them stories at bedtime. The designer of the game had made assumptions.

Eyes turned to Leia, who’d had the most luxurious childhood of them all.

But it was Luke who spoke first.

“Aunt Beru used to tell me a story about a beautiful young queen of Uban. When she got tired of being a queen, she became a senator who fought to overthrow the Evil King. I hadn’t thought about it in years, and then I had a dream about it just recently. Maybe Aunt Beru had more Rebellion sympathies than I realized.”

“Where is Uban?” Mara asked. Something about the name caught her attention. 

“Nowhere—she made it up,” Luke shrugged.

*Uban. Banu. Buna. Nuba. Nabu.* “How was it spelled?” Mara followed up.

“She never wrote it down; she just told me the story. Spelling didn’t really matter.” Luke chuckled.

“I wonder if she meant Naboo.” Mara mused.

“Naboo has an elected monarchy. They’ve had young queens. And they have terms, so it’s feasible a young queen could become a senator afterwards.” Winter pursed her lips at the thought.

“If she meant Naboo, why wouldn’t she say Naboo?” Luke argued, though he was still laughing. “You’re all taking this too seriously for a *bedtime story*.”

“What else do you remember?” Leia asked. “Did the queen/senator triumph over the Evil King?” 

“She did! And then she met a handsome knight from a distant land, married him, and had children. And lived happily ever after.” 

A collective “awwww” rose from the group.

“Yeah, Aunt Beru always liked happily ever after endings. Uncle Owen made up a bedtime story once and everyone worked themselves to death. He wasn’t allowed to make up stories after that.”

The crowd laughed. 

“Malla, what kind of stories do you tell Lumpy? Did you tell him the same stories you were told?” Han asked.

Malla thought a moment and started to rumble and growl. Han translated. 

“Lumpy’s favorite stories are the ones about his father. How Chewbacca fought with the Wookiee army in the Battle of Kashyyyk to repel the Separatist’s assault. I tried to tell him more traditional Wookiee stories, but he only wants to hear about the battle. So it’s more of a history lesson now than story time.”  Malla shrugged her enormous shoulders and gave a Wookiee laugh.

 Lando spoke next. “My mother made it a music and poetry lesson.”

“Do *not* sing. At least, not until I’ve had a lot more to drink.” Han warned. 

“Oh no, I won’t do that to your guests.” Lando’s hands came up in front of him as he shook his head. “We’ve already heard from the *good* singer tonight.”

“A poem, then?” Leia prodded.

“The ones that stuck the hardest were the nursery rhymes. Like this one:

The Goops they lick their fingers,    And the Goops they lick their knives; They spill their broth on the tablecloth--    Oh, they lead disgusting lives! The Goops they talk while eating,   And loud and fast they chew; And that is why I'm glad that I    Am not a Goop--are you?”

Lando waited for the laughter to die down before continuing. “It was a lesson in manners, too. Anytime I did anything my mother deemed impolite, she would demand, ‘Are you a Goop?!’”

More members of the group shared memories and told tales.  Laughter built and crested in waves crashing through the evening. The gamer cards meant as prompts were all but forgotten.

“Threepio, open another bottle of Whyren’s.” 

“I’m afraid, sir, that was our last bottle. Perhaps a bottle of wine?”

Confusion crossed Han’s face. Iella looked at the chrono. Hours had passed.

“Oh my! I have an early start tomorrow. If I’m going to get any sleep, I’d better go.”

The spell broken, the guests set about helping with clean-up, thanking their hosts, and saying good-bye.

In the kitchen, as Winter loaded glassware into the dishwashing unit, Leia checked her datapad.  

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Would you meet the senator from Naboo for me, Winter?”

“Sure. What’s it about?”

“She keeps requesting a meeting, claiming she has information about my mother—I mean, Luke’s and my birth mother. I’ve had so many con artists and fraudsters make those claims, I’ve been just waiting her out. Odds are it’s nothing. But—just see what she has to say?”

“You think there was something to Beru’s bedtime story?”

“I think Luke is always encouraging me to trust the Force and listen for its little nudges. I’m still learning what that means, but as soon as Mara wondered if the story was about Naboo, I remembered these requests and—I don’t know. It feels right now to check it out.”

The door opened with a swish. As if summoned, Mara stepped in, carrying a bag. She stopped just inside the door and looked at her friends wordlessly.

“Hi! I’m so glad you’re staying a few days. It feels so right to have both of you here.”

“It’s good to be with everyone. I’m sure if Luke could, he’d have all of you along as we travel.” She paused, then placed the bag on the counter. “Speaking of things that feel right, I bought this gown on Kashyyyk. Someone commissioned it but never picked it up, and the shopkeeper tried to sell it to me as a sleepgown. I don’t see how anyone could sleep in it. But I intended to give it back to her, and then found myself buying it as a gift for you. Which…seems ridiculous now.”

Leia and Winter watched as Mara squirmed.

“Wow—I’ve never seen you embarrassed before!” Winter grinned.

Mara mock glared at her.

Leia chuckled. “I’ve had to come up with some pretty wild excuses to justify trusting my gut. Or the Force, as Luke keeps telling me to do. I get it. So let’s take a look.”

Leia reached into the bag and brought out the gown. It was Life Day red, with elaborate gold embroidery, fur trimmings, and half-globes along the hem. 

“Maybe for a costume ball? I don’t know.” Mara’s hands fluttered helplessly. “Supposedly, it was ordered by a woman from Naboo who said it was the traditional royal style years ago. Who knows.”

“Naboo. Again.” Leia mused.

“And royalty, again,” Winter added.

Leia’s index finger traced the edge of the fur trimmings, wondering about the royals who wore similar fashions. And about the persistent senator from Naboo.

“Thank you, Mara. Who knows, indeed? It may come clearer in time. If nothing else, it will be another fun story to tell on nights like this.”

“Right,” Mara laughed. “I’ll call it ‘The one where I bought a sleepgown that didn’t fit, and wasn’t fit to sleep in.’”

5: NEW YEAR CELEBRATIONS and 4:FAMILY REUNION

Two entries in the Twelve Days of Ficmas prompts, combined in one chapter

Mara and Luke return to Coruscant to celebrate Life Day with friends and family, including Chewie and Malla. Note: This is a ficlet set in the same AU as They Say You Killed a Rancor with Your Bare Hands. All you need to know is: Mara and Luke met and found romance earlier than in the EU. It's 7 ABY, and they are flying around in a SoroSuub 3000 yacht, researching Jedi history and looking for artifacts.

Mara double-checked the chronometer against the navicomputer.

“Hey, we’re not going to make it to Coruscant by Life Day,” she said. “Did we miscalculate?”

“By ‘we’, you mean me, right?” Luke entered the cockpit and planted a quick kiss on her forehead.

“I mean the droid,” she snarked.

From further down the passageway came a reply of indignant whistles and beeps.

Luke dropped into the copilot seat.  “We don’t have to make it by the actual date for Life Day. Chewie will still be on Kashyyyk to celebrate with his family. Then he flies back to Coruscant, sometimes with Malla or Lumpy, and Leia throws a second Life Day party there. She likes to give Chewie his alone time with his family. He spends so much time with Han as it is.”

“Ah. So will we make it in time for this second Life Day party?” She pointed at the navicomputer.”

“Barely. But we will make it, which is all Chewie will care about.”

“And Leia?”

“Will have to be mollified with that fancy red robe you bought her, and other presents we’ve stockpiled.”

“Oh, that robe is only going to hurt our case.” She pursed her lips.

“Well, we can lay on all the compliments and gratitude for all the work she’s done. She’s chronically underappreciated.” He studied the route on the screen, looking for shortcuts.

“Which work is that? Keeping the Council from killing each other? Keeping the New Republic together?”

“Sure, but I was talking about the holiday. She tries to outdo herself every year; I don’t know how she’s going to do it this time.” He punched some keys to recalculate a segment of the trip.

“This year she’s also planning a wedding. Maybe she’ll scale back.” Mara mused.

Luke guffawed. “Leia has no idea how to scale back. She’ll do this, plan a wedding, keep the government together, and just keep going until she drops.”

The corners of Mara’s lips twitched. The Empire had painted Leia as an insurrectionist bent on destruction. They had gotten her work ethic right, if not much else.

“I guess we can’t help much, swooping in at the last minute,” she said.

“She’s not big on accepting help, either.” Luke grinned.

——

Days later, the two stepped into the Imperial ballroom. And stopped. Their eyes were drawn upward by strings of lit orbs reaching to the ceiling. They sidestepped a bit as more guests pressed in behind them. Ahead of them, others slowly milled about, trying to take in the whole room at once.

Drapes of blue velvet fabric hung in deep scallops along the walls near the ceiling, barely visible in the low light. Strings of lit orbs ran along the edges of the fabric, soft points of white showing through the translucent globes, adding the faintest of a blue lavender hue.

“Wow.” Mara nearly bumped into Winter as Mara’s attention followed the lines of orbs. Mara chuckled as Winter went to dodge, recognized her friend, and then threw her arms around her in a hug instead.

“Yeah, amazing to see you, too.” Winter laughed, purposely misinterpreting Mara’s remark. She pulled back and admired the work herself. “Do you like it?”

“It’s very impressive. And that’s saying something; I’ve seen this ballroom decorated in all kinds of ways. This is breathtaking.”

“I helped,” Winter stage-whispered.

“Luke said Leia wasn’t big on letting people help.”

“I know! I’m so proud of her. And me. And even Han. He seems to be the first to get through to her that she doesn’t have to do everything herself.”

“Wow—that may be the most heroic thing he’s ever done,” Luke snarked, handing both Winter and Mara drinks.

“I heard that,” Han said. “Now stop loitering back here and come see your hostess. She’s been counting down the days.”

Han continued to greet other guests while Luke and Mara crossed the ballroom to where Leia stood with Chewie and Malla, who wore their Life Day robes. Leia wore the same color in a slightly more tailored style, emphasizing her waist and expanding to a full hem at the floor.  

Leia threw her arms around Luke’s neck. “Could you have cut it any closer?!” she demanded through her laughter.

“Sorry. Artoo and the navicomputer are still getting their communication worked out.” Luke had the grace to look sheepish.

“Sure, blame the droids.”  Leia turned to Mara and hugged her enthusiastically. “Welcome back.”

Han returned to Leia’s side and passed her a drink. Winter, Tycho, Iella, Wedge, and Lando trailed behind, taking up positions next to Mara. The group fanned out into a semicircle facing the room. 

“That’s better,” Han declared. “Together again.”

The group chatted happily, catching up on recent events and laughing at silly jokes. 

An aide approached Leia. “Right, it’s time. Ready, Malla?” Leia gave Han a quick kiss on the cheek and ushered Malla away from the group.

A small stage had been set up on one side of the ballroom. After they reached it, Leia conferred with Malla briefly and stepped up to the microphone. 

“Thank you all for being here to celebrate Life Day with us. Life Day is about sharing joy and light and freedom together. Tonight we are honored to have Mallatobuck with us to sing.” Leia adjusted the microphone up a meter and stepped away. 

Malla’s elegant robe shimmered slightly in the low light. 

Mara had never heard a Wookiee sing before. It was a more melodic sound than she would have guessed. Malla’s voice soared through the traditional Life Day song. She drew out the last note, her tone lilting around the pitch. Silence followed as the crowd savored the sound.

Applause thundered throughout the room while Malla nodded appreciatively.

Beside Han, Chewie growled in relief. “She sure didn’t look nervous,” Han responded. “Hasn’t she performed a lot on Kashyyk?”

Chewie’s answer was obviously affirmative, with some explanation. 

Luke frowned. “Did I catch something about…being self-conscious around other species?” he asked Han. 

“Yeah, she’s comfortable with a mostly Wookiee audience.”

“What’s the song about?” Mara inquired.

“Celebrating peace, harmony, joy, light, freedom.”

Chewie left the group to meet Malla as admirers gathered around her.

“You all went to Kashyyk one year for Life Day, didn’t you? During the war? What was that like?” Winter asked. Her face reflected only curiosity, but Mara sensed an underlying mischief.

Luke’s sense, on the other hand, slammed shut. Han’s became a mixture of suspicion and panic. 

“A lot like this,” Han replied, gesturing around. 

“Oh, really? Rumor has it that Leia sang the song.” Winter pressed.

“No, she didn’t,” Han and Luke chorused.

Mara and Winter exchanged a look.

*Tell me later?* Mara asked Luke through the Force.

*We’ve been asked not to talk about it*, came his response.

—

“So you were on Kashyyk on Life Day during the war, and you can’t talk about it?” Mara asked once they had made the jump to hyperspace.

Luke’s shields slammed shut again.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just…confidential.” Luke was suddenly very absorbed in the navicomputer controls.

“Sure. I’m just surprised Wookiees are that private about Life Day,” Mara mused.

Something passed through Luke’s sense that made her reconsider.

“Or was it not the Wookiees who asked you not to talk about it?”

At this, he did turn to her and make eye contact, his chin tucked down and his eyebrows raised. 

“You really can’t talk about it. Right. OK, consider it dropped,” Mara agreed. 

She wondered what could have happened to inspire such a reaction in both Luke and Han. Winter’s sense had been playful when she’d brought up the subject. Mara would have to remember to ask her friend what she knew when no one who’d been on Kashyyk that day was there to shut down the conversation. 

*Rumor has it that Leia sang the song*, she recalled Winter saying. Mara had never heard Leia sing, nor had she ever heard that Leia could sing. Could she be so self-conscious that Leia had sworn everyone to secrecy? Fear of Leia’s wrath would explain the men’s reticence.

Mara turned to her datapad and keyed in Winter’s message address.

To: Winter Retrac From: Mara Jade Subject: Ladies’ Night

Next time I’m back, let’s have a Ladies’ Night of karaoke. We’re getting to the bottom of this Life Day secret.

A satisfied smile crept to Mara’s lips.

“What’s that smile about?” Luke asked, searching for a new topic of conversation.

“Sorry, that’s confidential.” Mara’s smile widened.