jedimara77 | X-Wing: Knights of Plooma Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

“Can you tell us again why we have to wear these?” Hobbie asked as he smoothed out the wrinkles on his dress uniform. “I was really hoping I’d be able to wear civilian clothes.”

“Don’t complain,” Corran told him. “Would you rather wear formalwear fashioned in bright fuchsia?”

Hobbie paused. “You have a point."

“Come on, the uniform isn’t that bad,” Luke commented, admiring his reflection in the mirror. “And Wedge was right—they do make an impact.”

“You’re just saying that because you never had to wear one,” Hobbie pointed out. “Speaking of which, how’d you get your hands on a spare dress uniform?”

“I borrowed Wedge’s,” Luke replied. “We’re about the same size.”

“Lucky you,” Hobbie muttered, frowning at himself in the mirror. Luke was right; the uniforms did make a good impression, but by the gods was he starting to get sick of wearing it. “So anyway, we're wearing these why?”

“Besides the fact that Wedge gave me authority to boss you around for two weeks?” Luke grinned. “No, the fact of the matter is that I want the Ploomians to remember our military backgrounds. And Wedge pointed out that the dress uniforms would remind them of the strength of the New Republic military.”

“I'll have to remember to thank him,” Hobbie drawled.

“Plus, he wants to look hot for his wife,” Corran chimed in.

Hobbie groaned.

“I still say you should have made Mara wear one of these uniforms. I bet she’d look quite fetching in one, don’t you agree?”

Luke rolled his eyes. “You know I’m going to make sure that Wedge gives you tons of kitchen duty when you get back to the Rogues, right?”

Corran grinned. “Eh. It’s worth it.”

Making himself comfortable, Hobbie tried his best to ignore the other pilots’ bickering. The New Republic delegation had been on Plooma for seven days and, to mark the halfway point of their mission, they had been invited to a gala being held in their honor. Corran had spent the past twenty-four hours concocting various schemes to increase the awkward sexual tension between Luke and Mara to new heights. As he had remarked, a ball was a great place for hook-ups.

Continuing his quest to get either maimed or kriffed by the end of the two weeks, Luke had sent Mara out, with Jedi academy funds no less, on a shopping spree to buy a new outfit for the event. Luke had even dared to inform her that she needn’t worry about carrying her lightsaber; all she was required to bring for the evening was her stunning and entertaining presence.

Sometimes Hobbie wondered if Luke was trying to orchestrate a coup and take over leadership of the cybernetic limb club.

Luke had come to their hotel room to get ready earlier in the evening, which had prompted even more teasing from Corran. (“Admit it, Luke,” he had said, “you want to get ready in private so she can get the full effect all at once and be blown away! Don’t be embarrassed; we’ve all done it before.”) Hobbie didn’t understand why it was taking them so long to get ready. Perhaps it was just another way of the Galaxy getting back at him.

The two Jedi’s conversation was interrupted by a rather loud and forceful knock. A second later an annoyed voice pierced through the door. “Aren’t you slowpokes ready yet?! Karrde and I have been waiting out here for ten minutes!” It was the type of role reversal that only Mara Jade could pull off. Sighing, he opened the door for the two smugglers.

“Hey, Klivian,” Mara said. “Looking good as usual.”

“You too,” Hobbie replied. She did look very nice, he thought; she was wearing a long black dress with straps that tied behind her neck, and her dancer’s figure made the simple garment look highly elegant.

“Well, when the husband sends you on a shopping spree you can’t disappoint, right?” Mara said drily. At that moment, Luke and Corran came into view. Mara’s eyes widened as she took in Luke in his borrowed dress uniform; she openly traced the contours of his body, seemingly unable to speak.

“Oh fantastic,” Hobbie muttered to himself. “Just what we needed—more ammunition for Horn.”

Corran, of course, took in Mara’s reaction with glee. “Well, this is a first,” he whispered in her ear after the group had exchanged greetings. “Speechless?”

That comment brought Mara back to life. “Oh, shove it,” she growled.

Corran grinned and moved aside as Luke stepped forward to kiss Mara’s hand. “You look beautiful, Mara,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. You clean up nice, too, I guess,” she admitted begrudgingly, fingering the gold insignia on his white jacket. “Nice touch on the uniform.”

Luke nodded. “I thought so, too. Shall we?”

They left the room, and Corran mentally rubbed his palms while they waited for the turbolift. The night had barely started and it was already promising to be the most entertaining evening on Plooma by far. He suppressed a grin as he noticed Luke staring at Mara, seemingly fixated. Hey, Luke, he sent through the Force.

Luke didn’t respond, but Corran could tell he was listening. Close your mouth. You’re practically drooling.

Luke glanced at him sharply; Corran shrugged innocently in return. Just trying to help out. The other man narrowed his eyes and sighed.

Oh yes, Corran thought. It was shaping up to be a very fun evening indeed.

Once the delegation had arrived at the gala, they were announced to a rather large and enthusiastic crowd. The group then immediately parted ways, eager for an evening free of politics.

However, Corran soon found himself speaking with Ambassador Gemar, and couldn’t help but ask a few choice questions about Plooma’s recent history, including Valara Lissiri’s veiled dislike of the Jedi.

“Unfortunately, Ploomian Security stands to lose a lot of prestige from an alliance with the New Republic,” Gemar explained. “As Director, Lissiri holds a vast amount of power in Plooma’s government. Because we do not have a standing military, she basically amounts to our Commander in Chief. If Plooma were to join the New Republic, any military presence here would officially outrank her.”

Corran shook his head. “The New Republic does not operate that way. We wouldn’t force any planetary government to give up its sovereignty.”

“We know that,” Gemar agreed, “but Ploomian Security still fears a takeover. I do not believe that those fears will go away quickly. After all, that was one of the main reasons why Plooma separated itself from the Old Republic in the first place.”

That was certainly new information. The delegation had of course learned that Plooma’s leaders had grown wary of the discord in the Old Republic around the outbreak of the Clone Wars, but Corran hadn’t thought there was more to the story. Apparently, there was. “PloSec was behind Plooma’s secession from the Old Republic?”

“Not entirely,” Gemar responded, “but they certainly pushed the issue. Of course, at the time it was hard to argue. War was imminent and with the debate in the Senate about the creation of an army, it was clear that in order to save ourselves from the impending conflict, we had to break away. Of course, Ploomian Security argued that since they were the only force on planet that could defend against an attack, the organization should be given more authority, not to mention more funds.”

“That makes perfect sense,” Corran said. “They used the situation at large to gain a very favorable position on planet. Now they fear a return to a galactic government will take away their power. It’s no wonder that Director Lissiri opposed joining the New Republic.”

“Well, that is the interesting thing, Jedi Horn,” Gemar replied. “Director Lissiri was the person to first make contact with your Republic.”

Corran stared blankly at the ambassador. “Excuse me, could you say that again?”

“Director Lissiri encouraged Plooma’s government to reach out to your government. After receiving split approval, she contacted your Senate. She was the biggest proponent for these negotiations, even against those who argued that joining the New Republic would incur the wrath of the Imperial Remnant.”

None of that made sense, Corran thought. Lissiri had been openly hostile to the entire delegation, both during their tours of the mining operations and during official negotiations. It didn’t take the Force to realize that the PloSec director was not pleased with the idea of returning to the New Republic, yet Gemar was saying exactly the opposite.

“I cannot understand it either,” Gemar said, picking up on Corran’s confusion. “Before your delegation arrived, Director Lissiri seemed very pleased that the negotiations were to be taking place. Obviously, that has changed.”

“That is odd,” Corran agreed. “However, I seem to recall Director Lissiri being rather unhappy when we first arrived here. Did her attitude change before then?”

“Yes,” Gemar confirmed. “Her animosity seemed to start when we received the official list of participants from the New Republic.”

“Really? Because there were Jedi involved?” Corran asked, forcing himself to remain calm even though unfounded prejudice against the Jedi was one of his major irritations.

“I am not certain,” Gemar answered. “Director Lissiri certainly has never shown any outward animosity towards the Jedi Knights before you arrived.”

“But she certainly displayed so the other day…” Corran trailed off, reaching out with the Force for guidance. There was something just barely out of reach, a tiny thread of possibility that would explain Lissiri’s actions at the negotiations. Corran shook his head, forcing himself not to dwell on the issue. The Force would guide him to the answer, he just needed to quiet his mind and let it.

As he finished his thought, Ambassador Gemar excused himself. Corran looked around the ballroom for his fellow delegates. Hobbie was standing by the food table, talking to Fiolla of all people. Lissiri was conversing with some unknown Ploomians, her assistant Murray standing diligently at her side, looking positively morose. Corran was tempted to talk to Lissiri and see if he could gain any insight into her motivations.

Before he could take a step, however, his attention was stolen away by a spike of anger through the Force. Grinning, he turned around until he found what he was looking for: Luke and Mara, standing to the side of the dance floor, seemingly in the middle of an argument. They had been dancing peacefully only minutes ago, perfectly playing the part of the loving couple. But apparently Luke had once again pushed one too many buttons. Shaking her head at Luke, Mara threw up her hands in exasperation and sped out of the ballroom. After a few moments, Luke followed her into the hallway.

As any self-respecting former CorSec officer would do, Corran followed them—before making a quick detour, of course.

Hobbie looked down at his plate stuffed full of Ploomian delicacies. It seemed to him that the Ploomians used that word rather liberally. The appetizer portions of small game animals did not appeal to Hobbie in the least. Some of them even looked like they were still alive.

He wrinkled his nose and put down his plate, exchanging it for a glass of what he’d found to be a rather potent Ploomian beverage.

The Rogue had been doing his best to stay out of trouble in the ballroom since they’d arrived, and the best way he knew to do that was to stay out of everyone’s way. If nobody talked to him, he couldn’t get shot at. At least, that was the logic he was subscribing to for the evening.

“Major Klivian?”

Apparently, the Galaxy did not have the same plans.

Hobbie turned around and found himself face to face with Fiolla Flotto, the hyperactive, overeager Jedi historian. At first, all Hobbie could wonder was why she was deigning to speak with him. Since he’d arrived on Plooma, he’d been subjected to less-than-stellar treatment whenever anyone found out he wasn’t a Jedi. He suspected that the only reason they gave him a nice hotel room was because he was sharing with Corran. Fiolla seemed to revere the Jedi most of all. Surely she could find someone more interesting to speak with, such as Luke or Corran or even Mara.

But Fiolla was smiling openly at him, looking just as eager to talk to him as she’d been to talk to the Jedi. “Hello!” she chirped.

“Good evening,” Hobbie found himself responding. He frowned at himself. He was never that formal; what was that about?

“Are you busy, Major Klivian? I can return later if I am interrupting your meal!”

Hobbie glanced down at the unappetizing dishes on his plate. “Um, no, not at all. How may I help you?”

Fiolla’s smile grew wider, and Hobbie began to feel bad for everything disparaging he’d thought of her throughout the trip. Yes, she was excitable, but she was a genuinely nice person, and highly optimistic. Almost like a young, female, and caffeinated Luke Skywalker.

“I was hoping to speak with you about your history with the New Republic.”

“Oh," Hobbie shrugged. "Sure. What do you want to know?”

“Master Skywalker stated that you have been in the military for many years. I was hoping you could tell me about your adventures!”

Hobbie cocked his head. His adventures? Not his adventures with his Jedi friends? Now he really did feel badly.

“Sure, Fiolla, no problem,” he said, gracing the woman with a rare smile. “As Luke said, I attended the Imperial academy. Eventually several cadets and I decided we wanted to defect to the Rebel Alliance. We did so right before the Battle of Yavin…”

Hobbie launched into the story, letting himself revel in the attention that he hadn’t received since arriving on Plooma. Fiolla followed his story with vigor, seemingly very impressed that Luke Skywalker himself had hand-picked Hobbie to fly in his first squadron. He was just beginning to regale her with the story of the Battle of Endor when a rather excited Corran Horn interrupted their conversation.

“Hobbie!" He pulled on his arm. "Come on, we’re missing it!”

“What do you want, Horn? Can’t you see I’m busy?” Hobbie said, indicating Fiolla.

The other woman grinned. “Hello, Jedi Horn! You are here just in time to hear Major Klivian's tale of the destruction of the second Death Star!”

“Hi Fiolla, that sounds great, but I'm afraid I need to borrow Hobbs for a second.”

“Oh.” Fiolla’s face fell for a moment. Her toe twisted awkwardly into the floor as she examined her feet. “Of course, I understand. You of course would like him back. Anyway, thank you for speaking with me, Major Klivian.” She bowed formally and turned to leave.

“Fiolla, wait—”

“Come on Hobbs!”

Hobbie sighed and begrudgingly allowed Corran to drag him into the hallway. "This had better be good, Corran. For once I was actually having a pleasant conversation with somebody on this Force-forsaken planet."

Corran waved his hand. "Oh, it was just Fiolla. You'll have a chance to talk with her later. But this—"

He pointed towards Mara, who was standing across the hallway with her arms crossed over her chest, and Luke, who was approaching her from behind.

"—This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, my friend!"

"I don't know, it seems like we've had plenty of opportunities to witness them fighting over the past week, more than I ever needed to see in my lifetime," Hobbie pointed out.

"Trust me, this one's gonna be a doozy. I can tell through the Force!"

As the two pilots hid behind some large planters, Hobbie shook his head. "I'm sure Luke'll be glad to know that you're putting his Jedi training to good use."

Corran waved his hand, indicating for Hobbie to be quiet, as Luke placed a hand on Mara's shoulder and began speaking quietly.

"Mara, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

She flinched away from him, remaining mute in her apparent anger.

"Are you okay?" Luke asked, his voice full of concern.

"I told you, I'm fine, now just leave me alone," Mara replied, sounding testy and not at all fine.

But Luke was Luke, and he would never leave a friend alone when they were upset. Even if he was the cause of those feelings. "Let me make it up to you. Can I get you another drink? Some water, perhaps? Are you hungry?"

"I said I'm fine."

"Anything you want, just name it—"

"Dammit, Skywalker! What I want is for you to stop taking this marriage thing so damn seriously!" she snapped. She began pacing up and down the hallway as if trying to determine whether to stay and argue or go back into the ballroom. "Ugh, forget it," she finally sighed, heading towards the Rogues' hiding space, prompting them to back further into the shadows.

But before Mara could get very far, she swung around and got right back into Luke's face. "Why won't you ever just leave me the hell alone about my Jedi training?" she demanded.

Corran rubbed his palms together in anticipation. "Oh, yes! Here we go!" he whispered.

Hobbie grimaced. "Maybe we should head back inside—"

"No way, Hobbs! This is what we came here for! Now shhh!" Corran said, all too excited about watching Luke and Mara explode at each other. Hobbie shook his head. Corran's excitement be damned; this was not going to be good.

Luke had paused, startled by her abrupt change of subject. "What?" he questioned hesitantly.

"Since the day you met me you haven't stopped bothering me about becoming a Jedi. Even after not speaking to you for months, it always comes up in the conversation somehow. Why? Why do you care so much?"

"I...I just think you're wasting your potential, that's all," Luke stammered.

"Oh, what, my life isn't good enough for you?"

Hobbie grimaced again. "Corran, I really think—"

"Shhh!" Corran hushed him. "This is getting good."

Hobbie pretended to bang his head against the wall.

"That's not what I said—" Luke protested.

"No, but it's what you meant, isn't it! You know, Skywalker, you can be pretty high and mighty for someone who owes his life to smugglers several times over!"

Now Luke was starting to shout as well. "Yeah, I do, and I never said that you were wasting your life! I said you were wasting your potential."

"I fail to see the difference."

"Well isn't that a surprise," Luke muttered.

Mara's voice was beginning to grow shrill. "Just who do you think—"

"Look around you, Mara! Fiolla would want nothing more than to serve the galaxy as a Jedi, yet she can't touch the Force. And you have so much power but you're running away from what you're so obviously meant to be! Why?"

"I think I can decide my own destiny good enough, okay? And maybe the Jedi don't deserve this kind of treatment. What happened the last time a Jedi thought he was so powerful and important, do you remember that, huh?!"

"What's she talking about?" Hobbie whispered, unable to resist getting involved in the argument.

Corran met Hobbie's gaze, suddenly serious. "Byss."

"Oh."

Luke shook his head, ignoring Mara's accusation. "Why are you so scared?" he asked instead.

Mara's green eyes flashed in offense. "I'm not scared!" she countered indignantly.

Hobbie was sucked in again. "What's she scared of?"

"Of committing herself to the Jedi Order," Corran whispered back. "Be quiet!"

Hobbie obliged.

"Really?" Luke challenged, hands on his hips.

"Yes!" Mara cried. "Did you ever think that maybe I just don't want to be a Jedi? I have a good life, you know! I have my own business, my own ship, friends and colleagues who respect me. I have freedom! Do you know what that's like, after spending the entire first half of my life serving a man who controlled me implicitly?"

There was a pause. "So that's what this is about," Luke said knowingly.

Mara shook her head. "You just now figured that out?" She gave a mock round of applause. "I guess they don't teach common sense in Jedi school, do they?"

Again Luke sidestepped her barb. "Becoming a Jedi doesn't mean you have to give up your freedom, Mara. Look at Corran."

Beside Hobbie, Corran looked smug. Hobbie once again banged his head against the wall.

"Yeah, but he was already serving the New Republic," Mara countered. "I'm not. And maybe I don't want to be."

"No, I guess you wouldn't. You don't want to serve anyone but yourself."

"Yeah, so, maybe I deserve it," Mara shot back.

"Maybe you do," Luke acquiesced.

"And maybe I don't need you to tell me how I should run my life."

"No, maybe you don't."

"Maybe instead you should concern yourself with how you are running your life, and your little Jedi Academy," Mara said bitterly.

Surprisingly, Luke didn't seem angry about Mara's accusation. Instead, he nodded slowly, seemingly taking her suggestion to heart. "Maybe I should."

"Good."

"And don't worry, I won't mention Jedi training to you ever again."

"Good." Mara spun on her heel and headed back towards the ballroom. Corran and Hobbie ducked further out of sight, and Mara passed by without noticing them. Luke paced around the hallway for a few more moments before following her back into the ballroom, but headed towards the opposite side of the dance floor from where Mara was speaking with Karrde.

"Well, that was interesting," Hobbie conceded. He glanced at Corran, but his friend didn't seem as excited about the fight as Hobbie expected he'd be. "Corran?" he asked.

"Did you see her?" Corran replied, gobsmacked.

"No, why?"

"She was crying."

"Oh." Hobbie tried to get his mind around that fact. Mara Jade didn't cry.

Mara sidled up to Karrde, doing her best to politely sip her drink even though she obviously wanted to down several glasses. He glanced at her, trying not to stare at her eyes, which were puffy and red.

"You might want to head to the fresher," he advised in gentle tones.

She chuckled. "Oh, yeah—my allergies are bothering me," she lied.

"You don't have allergies," Karrde pointed out.

"Maybe I'm allergic to Skywalker," she joked. Karrde knew that she was somewhat serious in her comment, but she smiled, so he didn't press her.

They stood in silence for a few moments, watching the couples on the dance floor. "You should get back to Luke," he said finally. "People are going to start to wonder."

"I know," she sighed. "I just needed a minute to calm down."

"You alright?" Karrde asked.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Just...this trip is giving me a lot to think about."

"Oh?"

It was a moment before she responded. "Do you think I'm wasting my potential?"

"About?" he questioned.

"With the Force."

"Ah. Well, I'm obliged to give you the answer that would make you want to come back to work for me for the longest period of time."

"Very funny, Talon. I'm serious."

Karrde thought for a moment. Mara had always had something special, and for as long as he'd known her, she seemed more than just an average smuggler. And he was telling the truth—he wanted nothing more than for her to work for him forever—but he cared for her, and knew that she could do more. Knew that she deserved more. "You want my honest opinion?"

"Always."

"Then yes," he said. "You're wasting your potential and have been for a long time."

Mara sighed.

"Somehow I doubt my opinion is going to change your mind on the matter," Karrde said.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I guess...I guess I just don't like what he's been doing," she admitted softly.

Karrde raised a brow. "Have you told him so?"

Mara shook her head. "I can't talk to him about this."

"Suit yourself," Karrde said. "But if you want to remain friends, sooner or later you're going to have to be honest with him."

"Sometimes I wonder if we even are," she whispered absently. After a moment, she handed Karrde her glass and began to cross the ballroom towards Luke.

"Mara?" Karrde called after her.

She stopped and gave him a questioning look.

"The reason he doesn't stop hounding you is because he cares."

Mara glanced over at Skywalker before turning back to Karrde. "I highly doubt that," she scoffed.

"Then you're a fool and my opinions about you have been very wrong." Karrde's tone was joking, but he held her gaze, making it clear that he was very serious.

Mara nodded, then turned around and resumed the long walk across the ballroom.

Corran approached Karrde just as Mara reached the other side of the ballroom. "Is she okay?" he asked.

Karrde nodded. "Yeah, she'll be fine."

"Good," Corran said. "Not that I'd ever mention her delicate mood to her face."

"Not if you want to live to see another day," Karrde joked.

The two men watched the ballroom for awhile, idly chatting. When the music changed, turning to a fast song, Mara grabbed Luke's hand and pulled him out onto the dance floor. He protested, but they were soon in the middle of the floor, Mara dancing like she'd been all her life, and Luke looking positively embarrassed. Corran couldn't hold his laughter. "Oh, I really hope that someone is taping this!"

Karrde laughed, too. "I'm sure there's surveillance in this room. I'll be sure to get my hands on it."

"I knew I liked you for a reason, Karrde."

As the song went on, Luke grew more and more relaxed, and the two were soon laughing as if they hadn't had a huge argument just minutes ago. Luke spun Mara around expertly and even lifted her up in the air a few times. They looked like two teenagers in love, Corran couldn't help but think. He quickly covered up his thoughts, not wanting to have Luke or Mara catch a glimpse of them and threaten to kill him.

Hobbie approached them as another fast song began playing. "I guess they made up?" he asked, pointing to Luke and Mara.

"Looks like it," Corran answered, grinning. The two were still laughing, and Mara had her arms draped around Luke's shoulders as he spun her around some more. As he set her down, they began swaying back and forth, and from Corran's angle it almost looked as if Luke were leaning down to kiss her...

And then Fiolla walked in front of them, blocking his view. "Hello!" she said perkily.

Corran squeaked in frustration. The others gave him odd looks. He cleared his throat, trying to cover up his reaction. "Oh, hello, Fiolla," he replied in a deep voice, trying to nonchalantly push her out of the way, but it was to no avail.

"Hello, Jedi Horn!" she repeated. "I'm sorry to interrupt! But I was hoping that I could borrow Major Klivian so that we could continue our previous conversation on the dance floor, if you do not mind?"

Corran threw the other pilot a confused look. Borrow Hobbie? That was odd...but then again, this was Fiolla talking. Shaking his head, he shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Fiolla turned to Hobbie. "Will you accompany me, Major Klivian?" she asked, beaming from ear to ear.

"Sure, that sounds great," Hobbie replied.

"Oh, may the gods bless the stars!" Fiolla exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She reached forward and grabbed Hobbie's arm. "Let us dance!" She quickly pulled Hobbie onto the dance floor and began moving her hands rapidly above her head in some sort of odd Ploomian dance. Hobbie did his best to imitate her, his frantic movements a stark contrast to his permanently dour expression.

Corran burst out laughing at them, but quickly sobered as he began scanning the dance floor for the missing couple. "Dammit!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Karrde asked.

"Luke and Mara are gone! Did you see where they went?"

"No, they must have left while Fiolla was blocking the way."

Corran sighed, disappointed that he had possibly missed the culmination of nine years of sexual tension... "Do you think they went back to their room?"

"Possibly," Karrde said. He glanced at his chrono. "It is rather late, and the ball will be ending shortly."

"I know, but we said we'd walk back to our quarters together, you know, safety in numbers—"

"Horn?" Karrde interjected.

"Yeah?"

"I can see the wheels turning in your head. Whatever you're thinking, stop. Leave the two of them alone."

Corran practically stomped his foot. This was what they had all been waiting for! "Oh, you are no fun."

"Maybe not, but I would like to keep my body intact, and interrupting Luke and Mara right now would be a very good way to sever my limbs."

"A-ha! So you do think they're getting down and dirty right now!"

Karrde shook his head. "I didn't say that, and I would never dare to speculate, because that would be another good way of separating my limbs from my body."

"See? No fun at all."

Meanwhile, at the Rogue Squadron safehouse:

It was past midnight when Wedge was roused out of his bed by roaring laughter. He stumbled into the makeshift suveillance room where Tycho, Wes, Inyri, and Gavin—all the Rogues not on patrol at the moment—were watching footage of the ball taking place in the capital city. "What the hell is going on?" he growled from the doorway.

Inyri turned around and smirked. "Revenge, boss!"

"What?" Wedge walked over to the station around which the others were crowded. On the holo footage, Luke and Mara stood in the entrance to the ballroom. They were laughing at Corran, who was standing on the other side of the ballroom with Karrde and looking very agitated.

"Luke and Mara are getting revenge on Corran for spying on them and being a gossip queen," Wes explained. "From what we can tell, he thinks that they just ran off to do the horizontal Ewok shuffle and is dying because Karrde won't let him go spy on them."

Wedge shook his head. "Way to go, Luke and Mara! Serves Corran right."

"Boss, you're vengeful when you're tired," Gavin pointed out.

"Damn right I am. Now all of you get out of here, I need sleep and don't need you all yawning while you're on patrol tomorrow."

Everyone groaned in protest but left the room anyway. Making sure they were all gone, Wedge took a seat at the main surveillance station, flipping the controls to show him a view of the hallway. He watched Luke and Mara walk towards the turbolift, then wait there, conversing quietly, their arms swinging back and forth, gently brushing each other's hands every so often. The two of them looked at each other for a long moment...then the turbolift arrived and they disappeared inside. Wedge quickly jabbed at a switch, but apparently there wasn't a camera inside the turbolift. "Blast!" he cursed.

"Something the matter, boss?" Tycho asked knowingly from the doorway.

Wedge glanced over his shoulder, trying not to look guilty. "Oh, um, I was just...oh, forget it. Horn must be rubbing off on me."

Tycho smiled. "Or maybe you're just a hopeless romantic?"

"That, or I think it's high time Luke stopped being an idiot."

"That's a rather ironic statement coming from you, Wedge."

"You looking for kitchen duty, Colonel?"

"Good night, General."

Later that night:

Corran was woken from a deep sleep by a loud bang coming from the direction of Luke and Mara’s room. At first he rolled his eyes and pulled the covers over his head, doing his best to sleep through yet another Jade-Skywalker argument, but then Mara’s yell pierced through the wall and he grasped his head in pain at a disturbance in the Force. With bad memories of Luke and Mara's argument at the ball, he grabbed his lightsaber, jumped out of bed, and hurried to the their room, thanking every deity known to man that they hadn't thought to lock the door.

As Corran barreled into the living space, he came to a dead stop and his mind tried in vain to comprehend the sight in front of him.

Luke and Mara were sprawled over a large, rectangular flimsiplast sheet which had been painted with bright, multi-colored circles. They were still wearing their formal wear, although both were sporting bare feet and Luke had unbuttoned his jacket. A board painted with identical colors and a listing of different appendages—left foot, right foot, left hand, and right hand—hung in the air next to them. The black arrow on the board spun around in a circle, landing on…

“Right hand, blue!” Luke announced. The two of them began to wriggle around each other, each moving their appropriate limb to the indicated circle.

“Dammit Skywalker, you took my spot!” a very loud and very drunk Mara yelled.

“Not my fault you’re too slow!” Luke taunted her, his hand firmly in place on Mara's preferred circle. Corran noted that Luke, too, was utterly smashed. Annoyed, Mara took several more seconds to twist into position, ending up with her right arm in between Skywalker’s legs and his face directly in her chest.

“Ha! Okay, spin again!” she yelled gleefully.

Luke obliged, narrowing his eyes at the board. “Stop using the Force! Spin like a regular person!” Mara admonished, smacking his thigh dangerously close to his more delicate area.

Luke huffed in response but lowered the board to the ground and reached out precariously to spin the arrow. “Left foot, yellow,” he groaned, looking around as he tried to find the nearest yellow circle. This time Mara was quicker, slipping her leg behind her body to land in an almost backbend position, her years as a dancer an obvious benefit to this game. After several awkward seconds Luke managed to slip his leg under Mara’s back, so he was stretched almost directly underneath her.

As Luke reached out to spin the board again, Corran couldn’t take it anymore. “What the hell are you guys doing?!” he yelled incredulously, causing the two drunk fools to jump in surprise and fall on top of each other. Apparently alcohol had dampened their ability to sense others approaching them through the Force, Corran thought ruefully.

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Mara replied sarcastically, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

“We’re playing Contortion!” Luke answered. “Duh,” he added under his breath, causing Mara to giggle hysterically and Corran to gape at his former master.

“Oh dear Force,” he murmured. “You two have finally lost your minds.”

“Hey!” Mara hissed, still sprawled on top of Luke. Corran noticed that Luke had crossed his arms behind his head, looking positively smug. “Don’t talk about my husband like that. He’s a nice guy,” she said, patting Luke’s chest and grinning at him.

Corran shook his head, still unable to believe what he was seeing. It seemed that all his matchmaking had been pointless; all one needed to do to get Luke and Mara on top of each other was feed them lots of alcohol!

He knew he should leave and let nature take its course, but his curiosity got the best of him. “Just how did you two get so incredibly drunk, and why wasn’t I invited to this party?”

“We were bored, so I taught Skywalker the Face Loran drinking game!” Mara said proudly.

“You take a drink every time he makes a vapid facial expression,” Luke explained.

“Oh lord,” Corran gasped. “You two must have been hammered within thirty minutes.”

“I lasted a good hour,” Mara said, “but Skywalker was flying within fifteen. Poor guy just can’t handle his alcohol.”

“Hey!” Luke pouted.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Mara told him, tweaking his nose playfully. “And I’ll make sure CorSec keeps his mouth shut, too.”

The two of them continued to stare stupidly at each other, Mara resting on Skywalker’s chest like she belonged there. Corran just stood there gaping at them, unable to move.

“Ahem.” Luke finally cleared his throat, looking pointedly at his fellow Jedi and shooing him away. “You have interrupted our game. Please leave us post haste.”

“Yeah, post haste!” Mara slurred, throwing the Contortion spinner at Corran’s head. He shrieked and ducked out of the way.

“All right, all right!” Corran relented. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,” he smirked.

“We are not lovebirds!” they screamed. Corran found himself being Force-pushed out the door, and it locked shut in front of his face. Even still, he couldn’t help but laugh when he heard Luke call out “right foot, red!”

“Oh, I have got to tell the others about this,” Corran said gleefully to himself, practically skipping back into his room.