High Heavens (Star Wars - Luke Skywalker)

XXVIII - Struck Down

Mara watched the recording four more times. The first few times, she studied it intensely. Her eyes picked out each movement, every strategy played by both the droids and the four Jedi - all of whom were dead, now. But eventually, her focus became glued to her mother. She couldn't force herself to look away. The powerful need to ingrain her mother's face into memory surprised her. A part of Mara wished she could reach into the recording and touch her, to just feel her presence in some way more tangible. 

"This is good, right?" Strata asked. "I mean, this is what you wanted, to know more about your mother, about who she was." She gestured to the holo. "Looks like a hero, to me."

It did certainly look that way. But how much did a single holo recording actually tell her? It didn't answer nearly enough questions. If anything, it just provided Mara with more. 

She stepped back, and with a wave, dismissed the hologram. At that moment, Calla stepped back into the room. 

"Calla," Mara said, turning towards the woman. "I... I can't express how much this means to m. Thank you. I don't suppose there are any others?"

Calla gave her a sad smile. "Not here, not that I know of. These archives, although plentiful, are nowhere near as vast as what the Jedi once had." She cast her gaze around the room, at the shelves of holodisks, and seemed suddenly sad. "The Empire took more from us than you may know."

"Oh." Disappointment settled in Mara, but she shook it off. "In that case, maybe you could help me with something else. There are so many questions I have about my mother that I need answered-"

"And I would love to help you, dear," Calla gently interrupted, "but you have to leave. Now."

Strata, who had, up until that moment, been inspecting a shelf of the holobooks, turned around. "And why's that?"

"An associate of mine spotted stormtroopers rushing through this sector of the city," Calla said. "Heading this way. They'll be here any moment. You can't be here when they arrive."

"Neither can you," Mara said, walking towards her. "Calla, you're a Jedi. What the Empire does to Jedi... it isn't pretty."

"Trust me, I know." With a small twinkle in her eye, Calla added, "But I think you'll find that, as a Jedi, I can take care of myself fairly well. Now, this way, quickly."

With that, Calla ushered Mara and Strata after the room. She waved them towards a bedroom in the far corner of the house, and then rushed throughout her home, sealing every door, activating the dark-tinted privacy screens over her windows. As she did so, Mara looked around the room Calla had put them in. There wasn't much to it. A single window on the far right wall gave a bit of unreliable light. The room seemed to be a storage, the contents of which being mostly unremarkable. Cargo crates lined the walls, looking as if they hadn't been touched in years. Mara wiped her finger over her a package of food rations, frowning at the layer of dust on her finger. 

The only object in the room that looked even remotely operable was a single holo pad transmitter, sitting on a small table in the center of the room. It emitted a soft blue glow, blinking steadily, signalling that it was on. There was no hologram of any recipient. Strange. The line appeared open, but it wasn't receiving anything.... at least, not anymore. 

"What is that?" Strata asked, following Mara's gaze. She whirled around towards Calla, as the woman walked into the room. "Who did you contact?"

Calla looked at the holo-pad, then at Mara, meeting her gaze with a look of guilt. Momentary panic flared inside Mara. Had they just been betrayed?

"Hey, I asked you something," Strata stated, striding towards Calla. 

Mara put her arm out, stopping her . "We don't have time for this, Strata."