Title: Serendipity
Characters: Mara Jade, Leia Organa Solo
Category: vignette, canon-compatible
Timeframe: NR, between BFC and TNR
Warnings: none
Summary: So a smuggler walks into a bar...
A/N: Many thanks to Bri, who gave me the prompt and the title,
viariskywalker for the lovely beta job, and
deaka for constant encouragement and insight.
The cantina was crowded and dim, the light level a scant few shades above real darkness. Fragrant smoke from various cigarras and spicesticks wafted throughout, rendering the view hazy from floor to ceiling. It was also loud in the way of cantinas throughout the galaxy - conversation and clinking glasses dominated, but the crowd of howling fans around the one fuzzy holovid contributed, as did the piped-in scrak music. From some of the dark alcoves around the edges came fainter, more suspicious noises that were probably best left to the beings making them. On the whole, the cantina radiated generic seediness. It was certainly an unfit place for a civilized lady to spend an evening.
From just inside the entryway, Mara Jade waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom and regarded the whole thing with satisfaction.
She hadn’t expected to have a free evening to spend in the first place, having arranged to meet with Karrde’s supplier tonight. But the supplier had unexpectedly insisted on a meeting earlier this afternoon - just as he’d insisted on terms less favorable to Karrde’s organization than he’d ostensibly agreed to when they’d set this whole thing up in the first place. Mara was no stranger to negotiations, but in the end the supplier had simply declared that she could accept the terms he’d laid out or he could go to another smuggling organization. She’d been sorely tempted to let him walk, but the reality was that it was a profitable enough contract even with the revised terms that she knew Karrde would rather take it than not.
So she gritted her teeth and swallowed her indignation at his duplicity, and she validated the agreement. The supplier had sauntered off smugly, leaving Mara to fume. She could, of course, have just gone straight to the small yacht granted her for this mission and headed back to base early. It would have been the more practical choice; no other business held her here on Coruscant.
But neither would it do to go back as frustrated as she was. Karrde might lack the extrasensory powers of the Force, but his ability to read people was second to none, and Mara felt disinclined to discuss the matter until she’d regained some emotional equilibrium. And they really weren’t expecting her back so soon anyway. It wouldn’t hurt anything to take the one night off.
And this place exactly suited her mood.
Alternately slipping and elbowing her way through the crowd, Mara found an empty stool at the bar and promptly claimed it. “An Antakarian fire dancer,” she said when the bartender turned her way.
He nodded casually, placed a garnish in the durindfire he already held, and handed the glowing concoction to a patron several stools down from Mara, then selected the appropriate bottles and began mixing her order. Mara absently dragged a fingernail across the bar’s countertop, then grimaced as greasy buildup collected underneath the nail and hit her fingertip. Would it kill them to wipe the bar now and then? She certainly hadn’t let things get so grimy when she worked in cantinas, no matter how seedy they were. She picked the dirt from beneath her nail, then thought to lift her elbows from the countertop. Sure enough, the elbows of her jacket were now smeared with patches of the same gunk.
“Excuse me,” she said to the serving girl who’d joined the bartender behind the bar. The girl glanced up from reloading her tray. “A damp cloth, please?”
The girl looked confused - Mara doubted that many patrons here had such requests - but after a few minutes of fishing around, she came up with a reasonably clean rag. She ran it under the spigot of the bartender’s sink and wrung it out, then offered it to Mara.
“Thank you,” Mara said. “A word of advice: If you clean the counters and tabletops more often, the tips will improve. Even in a place like this. Guaranteed.”
The girl narrowed still-confused eyes. “Um, okay,” she said, and turned back to her tray, whispering to the bartender and sneaking furtive glances at Mara as she finished loading the tray. Mara mopped her dirty elbows and pretended she didn’t see. The girl gave off the unmistakable vibes of a new hire, and there was no point in making her any more uncomfortable than she already was. If she followed the usual pattern of cantina servers, she wouldn’t last the week anyway, and it wasn’t her fault she hadn’t been trained properly.
Mara frowned at this train of thought; it was almost wistful. Yes, her life had been simpler when she was working as a cantina server, but it had also been miserable. She’d still been mourning the loss of her old life, bitterly watching everything that she’d so loyally served self-destruct, wrapped in hatred as though it were a cocoon. There was nothing to feel nostalgic about. Absolutely nothing.
Her mood darkening further, Mara slapped the rag down on the countertop and pressed her lips tightly together.
The bartender brought her glass over, and Mara handed over the appropriate credits. “Thank you,” she said, trying not to sound curt and knowing she was failing. The Bothan on the stool next to her eyed her curiously, and she scowled at him. He hurriedly looked back to his glass.
Irritated by her own lack of self-control as much as anything else, Mara slid off the stool with her drink in hand. Obviously she needed to find an empty, dark booth where she could seethe in private and get this whole stupid bout of frustration out of her system - or at least bring it back under control before she went back to the base.
She stalked away from the bar and toward a row of booths. All were deeply recessed and lit only by a dim lamp set low on the back wall, making it difficult to really see if they were occupied without leaning in close - not generally a wise move in places like this. Fortunately, Mara had no need to resort to such tactics. Her use of the Force might not be so precise as a certain annoying Jedi might wish it to be, but she could certainly pick up the presence of life forms. Not to even mention -
Mara pulled up suddenly, pausing to consider the familiar sense behind her. It couldn’t be...
She turned back to the last booth she passed and leaned over the table, peering at the silhouette of the booth’s lone occupant. “Leia?”
The dark form stirred, and Mara caught a glimpse of a motion as the person waved a hand ever so slightly in her direction. “You want to go get a fresh drink - ” The person paused and leaned forward. “Oh, Mara. Just as well. I can never make that trick work right anyway. What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” Mara seated herself, sliding along the cracked leather seat far to the back of the booth so that she could see the other woman better in the faint light. “I’m a low-life smuggler. You’re the Chief of State of the New Republic. You tell me who’s more likely to be in a dive like this.”
Leia quirked a smile in her direction. “At least I’m more likely to be on this particular planet.”
Mara waved a hand. “Details.” She looked around at the large booth that held only the two of them, then scanned as much of the rest of the cantina as she could see from her seat. “Are you here alone? Not even a security detail?”
“Noghri,” Leia said, sipping at her steaming drink.
Mara scanned the room again, saw no hint of Noghri, then shrugged. “Solo’s not with you?”
“Nope.” Leia eyed Mara over the rim of her glass. “What about you? Are you here alone?”
“Yes,” Mara said. “Had some arrangements to make earlier today.”
“For what?”
“You’ll pardon me if I don’t spill smuggler business to a government representative,” Mara said dryly.
Leia smiled again. “The central government has more important things to do than chase after every smuggling group out there, Mara.”
“Nice try,” Mara said, taking a sip of her own drink.
A quick flash of genuine hurt reached her and was just as quickly smothered. She flicked her eyes toward Leia, but her expression was still even. Mara felt her own quick flash of guilt, which only added to this night’s general discomfort. “Maybe I should let you enjoy your drink in peace,” Mara said, starting to slide back out of the booth.
Leia reached out a hand to touch her arm. “Stay. If we’re both drinking alone, then we’re not doing anything much more important than brooding, are we? Might as well brood together. And it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.”
“Speak for yourself,” Mara said, but she settled back in her seat. “I don’t brood. And I’ve seen you plenty of times; politicians of your rank wind up on the HoloNet fairly often. You just haven’t seen me.”
“Fair enough,” Leia said, almost managing to hide another smile behind her glass.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, regarding each other not quite uneasily. Mara tapped her fingers on the tabletop, then consciously stopped herself. “At least you got a clean table,” she said, then mentally kicked herself as Leia raised her eyebrows. Of all the stupid things to say.
“As clean as I suppose a place like this gets,” Leia allowed.
“Cleaner than the bar,” Mara said by way of explanation. “I sat there first. Not clean.” She lifted her arm to display the still-dirty jacket elbow. Somewhere deep in her brain a voice was hissing, Shut up; you’re babbling, but she couldn’t quite make herself stop. “That’s why I went looking for a booth.”
“I’m glad you did,” Leia said, and sounded sincere.
Mara took a hasty sip of her drink to keep herself from saying something just for the sake of saying something, and used the few seconds of drinking to come up with a new conversational tactic.
“How are the children?” Real original, Jade.
“They’re good,” Leia said.
“I haven’t heard much about them lately.”
Leia’s eyes went suddenly cold. “By design. They didn’t sign up to be in the public eye; I did. They shouldn’t have to bear the burdens of an office they never asked for.”
“Right,” Mara said, taking another sip of her drink and aiming for nonchalant body language. “Those burdens are getting heavier than normal lately?”
“Why do you ask?” Leia said frostily.
“Only because the political rumblings from Coruscant have seemed a little louder than usual lately,” Mara said, eyeing the other woman. “And because the Chief of State is sitting alone in a dark booth in a seedy little cantina in the underlevels, drinking alone and, in her own words, brooding.”
Leia glared momentarily, then sighed and settled back. “The Uscru Entertainment District is a perfectly respectable area, underlevel or not.”
“Yes,” Mara agreed. “And it’s a stone’s throw away from some far less respectable areas. Doesn’t strike me as the sort of place most politicians would come to relax.”
Leia smiled again, tiredly. “Maybe that’s why I chose it.”
“Mm,” Mara said. “Again - ”
“It’s fine,” Leia said with a sigh. “I just needed a break. No one’s going to expect me to be here, so it’s less likely that they’ll recognize me in the first place. That’s all.”
“Fair enough,” Mara said. “Though you might want to brush up on that mind trick just in case they do recognize you.”
The faint smile was somewhat brittle this time. “I don’t have enough time to do my job. I don’t have enough time to spend with my husband and children. I definitely don’t have enough time to continue my training. Have you been talking to Luke lately or something?”
Mara made a face. “No, and if you tell him you saw me, you’ll regret it.”
Leia grinned. “So how’s that whole not-a-Jedi thing working out for you, Mara?”
“I’d guess about the same as it’s working out for you, Leia,” Mara said, twirling her drink in her glass.
They gazed at each other across the table in an entirely more companionable light.
“Seriously,” Mara said. “You okay?”
Leia sighed. “Yeah. It’s just - sometimes even a career politician gets sick of the double talk and the games. I know I make mistakes, but I’m not in this job for kicks, you know. I’m trying to make things better for the galaxy. And what do I get for it? Endless criticism. Every politician undermining important motions or initiatives for their own personal gain. Roadblocks at every turn.”
“That’s the nature of the game,” Mara said, not without sympathy.
“I know,” Leia agreed quietly. “If it was just that - well.”
Mara swirled her drink again, watching the dim light reflect off the cerise liquor. “What else is it?”
Leia held her glass in both hands, staring down into it. “A husband I hardly see, who’s been far too patient for far too many years. Children who almost resent me for not being there. A brother who sometimes feels like a stranger.” She glanced up, the expression in her eyes bleak. “If I’m not succeeding as a politician, and I’m not really succeeding as a wife or mother or sister either, what’s the point of any of it?”
“You know that’s not true,” Mara said, almost gently. “Han and the kids love you. Luke dotes on you. And - well, I’m no politician, but you’ve certainly done more for the common good than a lot of others would have. As much as you can within the constraints of the job, I think.”
“Mmm.” Leia was looking glumly into her glass again. Mara kicked her under the table, and Leia looked up, startled.
“Hey,” Mara said. “I voted for you, last election. And it’s no easy task to get my vote, let me tell you. You should still be riding high on that accomplishment alone.”
Leia laughed, and her sense in the Force was suddenly lighter. “Well, if you’d told me earlier, maybe I could have been.”
Mara winked at her. “I’ll send you a note next time.”
Leia grinned, looking almost cheerful for the first time since Mara had recognized her. “You do that,” she said, and leaned back in the booth, resting one arm along its back. She took another sip of her drink, then wrinkled her nose. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Mara asked, sipping her own drink. It had been a long time since she’d had an Antakarean fire dancer - Karrde’s crew generally favored brandies and ales - and the sharp, rich flavor made for a pleasant change. She hunched her shoulders slightly to stretch the muscles, then relaxed them, meeting Leia’s gaze with pretended unconcern.
Leia’s own eyes were both knowing and unimpressed. “Nice try,” she echoed dryly. “Come on. If you won’t tell me what you’re doing on Coruscant, you can at least tell me what it is you’re not brooding about.”
Mara hesitated, then made another face at her. “The person I was meeting with plays dirty.”
“Did you have to wipe the floor with him?” Leia asked, a spark of interest lighting her expression.
“Nah,” Mara said, then sighed. “Though I think I’d be a lot happier if he’d given me reason to do just that.”
“So?”
Mara leaned her head briefly against the wall in tired frustration, then thought better of it and pulled back, touching her head gingerly and turning to the side so Leia could look. “Is there anything in my hair now?”
Leia grinned and leaned closer for a moment, then leaned back. “Nope. So? What happened?”
Mara shrugged uncomfortably. “Karrde - Karrde’s an honorable man, smuggler or not. He stands by his word, treats his people right.” She glared almost reflexively at Leia, daring her to argue.
“Very true,” Leia said, perfectly composed. “We’re not going to disagree on that. Try harder, Mara.”
Mara grinned before she could stop herself. “You’re a real pain in the neck sometimes, Leia.”
“Also true,” Leia said, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Quit stalling.”
Mara tapped a fingernail against her glass, listening to the clear tone. “Well, he is. Most smugglers and people who use smugglers aren’t. They cheat. They change terms at the last minute. They always look to cut you out of your fair share of the profit. I don’t like dealing with people like that - at least, not when I’m not allowed to pull a blaster on them.”
Leia continued sipping her drink, looking thoughtful as she did so. “I can’t say I’m surprised,” she said at last. Mara raised an eyebrow at her, and Leia shrugged. “Integrity’s as important to you as it is to Karrde. Maybe more so.”
“Idealist.”
“Not here. Mara, have you ever considered that you spent most of your life upholding law and order? You may have operating outside the system; the system itself might have been corrupt. But you were always trying to uphold justice. I’m not surprised that a smuggler’s way of life would grate on you, even if you are working with a rarity like Karrde.” She propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “Honestly, I’m not sure you’ll ever be truly happy in that line of work.”
Mara narrowed her eyes. “Quite the psychoanalysis.”
Leia smiled. “Maybe. But it makes for a nice change from the brooding.” She swallowed the last of her drink, then set the glass down almost ruefully. “I really should get back. Han took the children to the Galactic City Zoo today. They always stay late when they go there, but they should be back within the hour. At least we can have dinner together.” She looked wistful, then confided, “I couldn’t get out of work early enough to make it worthwhile to join them. Prompted the brooding, I suppose.”
Mara quirked a sympathetic smile at her. “Dinner’s better than nothing.”
“True.” Leia leaned in again, momentarily intense. “Mara, really. If you ever need anything, if you want to do something other than smuggling, let me know, okay?”
“Sure,” Mara said, uncomfortable again, then remembered to add, “Thanks.”
Leia waved it off. “Seriously. Or if you just need to talk to someone outside Karrde’s organization, just to vent or something.” She tilted her head. “I still owe you for helping save the twins, you know. I always will. This is the least I can do.”
Mara shook her head. “You don’t owe me for that.”
“I do,” Leia said, with absolute conviction. “And don’t get all unemotional and distant on me; I’m not buying it.” Her gaze softened. “Look, just take it at face value, okay? If you need something, let me know.”
She was quite serious, and out of respect for that, Mara did her best not to squirm. She almost managed it, too. “Okay,” she conceded. “But the same goes for you. If it comes down to that, I wouldn’t have made it off Wayland alive if you hadn’t come for us.”
Leia was looking entirely too earnest at this point, reminding Mara distractingly of Luke, and the open hope he always displayed when asking if she’d be coming back to the Academy any time soon. It was too much, and Mara lost the battle to not squirm. “Get out of here, Leia. Your family’s waiting.”
The quirk of Leia’s brows suggested that she understood far more of Mara’s thoughts than Mara would have liked. “Want me to tell Luke you said hi?”
Horrified, Mara leveled a warning finger at her. “Don’t you dare.”
Leia smiled. “It was good seeing you, Mara.”
“Yeah,” Mara said, and managed a genuine smile. “Same here.”
Leia pulled some credits from her pocket and set them on the table next to her empty glass, then headed for the door. Mara caught sight of a slender gray silhouette seemingly coming from nowhere to follow her, and turned back to her own drink, reassured that she wouldn’t have to surreptitiously shadow Leia herself. She could have, of course, but keeping Leia from sensing her would have made things a little tricky.
She sat back in the booth, obscurely feeling better than she had upon entering the cantina. It had been several years since she’d last seen Leia for more than a few moments at a time, and she’d wondered increasingly if the aloof politician on the holovid was truly the same person she remembered from so long ago. It was nice to know that she still was.
Thoughtful, Mara finished her drink, setting the glass down just as the server from earlier was passing by. She paused, obviously recognizing Mara, and hesitantly asked, “Another round, ma’am?”
Mara looked up. The girl’s eyes could have been her own, years ago. “No,” Mara said. “But here.” She dug briefly in her pocket, and came up with a ten-cred coin. She slid from the booth to stand, and handed it to the girl. “You’re doing a good job,” she said. “Just remember to wipe the tables.”
The girl looked wide-eyed at the coin, then back to her. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
She gathered the empty glasses and made her way back to the bar. Mara watched her, remembering all sorts of things.
But the past was the past, and the future had a way of shifting beneath one’s feet. For now, it was enough that she had responsibilities waiting.
She headed for the door, and for home.