High Heavens (Star Wars - Luke Skywalker)

XXVI - Nejj's Advice

"Mara, no offense, but if you'd told me we were meeting your father's old friend in a Coruscant nightclub, I would have changed into something a little nicer."

Mara couldn't help but roll her eyes a bit, as she shouldered her way past a few unsavory-looking folk that populated the club. The room all but drowned her in upbeat music and flashing neon lights, the scent of exotic booze thick as smoke in the air. Mara wrinkled her nose a bit, not entirely thrilled with this kind of place. Strata, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind at all. Having spent her late teenager years in the Rebellion, Strata hadn't been exposed to much nightlife. It must have been somewhat exciting for her. Mara, however, had had plenty of experience with cantinas and bars of all kinds when she was a smuggler.

"Kinda a strange place to meet a- well, you know."

"We're not meeting her here," Mara explained. "I don't even know where she is."

"Oh, well, that's pleasant information." As Mara shook her head, Strata continued, "So, how are we gonna find her if we don't even know where to start?"

"By finding someone who does," Mara replied. She lead them over to take a seat at a bar, lowering her voice as she continued, "I have some contacts from back when I was an intelligence officer. And I know someone who may be able to set us down the right path, and then we can find who we're really looking for."

Strata nodded. "Alright, good enough, but how do we know your informant will be here?"

"I sent him a transmission before we left, told him to meet us here."

"General Dodonna let you access intelligence files?" Strata questioned in mild surprise.

"No," she said, "but I kept a few files of my own when I first switched over to the Blue Squadron. It was Cassian's idea, in case I ever needed something and he..." She had a brief battle with a growing lump in her throat, forcing herself to finish: "...wasn't around to help me out."

Strata's pitied gaze washed over her for a second, before she turned her eyes down the bar instead.

"I keep forgetting that he's gone..." Strata said. "I know how much you must miss him."

Mara waved at a bartender as she said, "I'm fine, Strata."

Strata let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, sure you are. Not like he was your friend, your mentor, like a brother to you when you first joined the Rebellion." She tried to look Mara in the eye. "You told me all this, remember? Back when we were both still rookie pilots."

Mara didn't reply, taking one of the two large, sharply-smelling drinks the bartender had set in front of them. Even though she despised the taste, she took a long sip. "He's gone. I'm here," she finally stated. "And I'm fine. It's life, Strata. I'm dealing with it."

Despite the assurance she tried to press into her words, Mara thoughts couldn't help but linger on Cassian. She tried to shake them off, knowing that too much time spent swelling on her memories of her friend would only result in her teary-eyed and emotional - two things she couldn't be while on this mission. But Cassian Andor was, at least to her, unkillable. Mara had spent years looking up to him, training under him, hell, being all-but raised by him. Killing him meant snuffing out a light in the Rebellion, and tearing away the closest thing to family Mara had - and the Empire had done it. It made her feeling incredibly hopeless. And incredibly lonely.

Sensing her reluctance, Strata allowed the conversation to die, and it was replaced by quiet sitting and drinking as the music continued to boom on. Mara more or less sipped at the foam of her frothy drink, preferring to visually scan the club. It was hard to pick out any faces in the swirling motion of dancing aliens and the flashing lights. Mara's doubts were creeping in. She had told him to meet her here.