A Journey of Discovery -- Book One:  Pendulum
Chapter 9

By Michele
See Chapter 1 for disclaimer
Rated PG-13



Dressed in their 'new' attire, Luke and Mara set out down one of 
the many dank tunnels spoking out from the site of the Poor Drop.

"It will take us several days to reach a spaceport," Mara 
commented.  "I figure Vie'mat is our best bet.  Security always 
seemed the most lax there."

"Then maybe we should avoid Vie'mat," Luke countered.  "Don't you 
think they'll send extra troops to where they believe we're most 
likely to surface?"

"They'll send extra troops to every spaceport, flyboy."

"Hmmm," Luke mused.  "A private hanger, then?"

"You stumble upon one, you let me know," Mara smirked.  She had a 
few possibilities in mind, but all were far from a safe bet. 

"In any case, we need to make a detour to the surface," Luke 
pointed out.

"Detour?  For what?"

"One of us failed to procure nourishment for us," he grinned 
sheepishly.

"Hummph."

"We can find some dumpsters to scrounge through," Luke reasoned.

"I thought you said that was too risky."

"For mere clothes, yes.  Dinner is a whole other matter."  His 
grin got even wider.

Mara shook her head in amusement.  "And you think a farm boy like 
you can sniff out food for us?"

"Absolutely.  Certainly better than a city girl like you."  He ran 
an appraising eye over her slim figure.  "Who doesn't look like 
she eats well, either."


                     * * * * * * * * * *


Luke and Mara made their way along the twisted maze of dingy 
passageways, following the rather vague directions given them by 
an inebriated Rybet.

Glad to now be in more comfortable and practical clothing, Mara 
stepped lightly over a tangle of rat-eaten power conduits.  She 
felt the reassuring weight of her hold-out blaster on her left 
wrist, hidden by her ragged sleeve.  Glancing to her side, she saw 
Luke had stuck his blaster into the waistband of his pants.  No 
one they passed seemed to notice the weapon, though.

"You shielding that hardware?"

"No," he returned, his eyes continuing to dart into every dark 
recess they passed.  "I don't think anyone down here cares."

"Hope you've got the safety on," she joked smartly.

This time he spared a glance in her direction.  "Why?  Worried I 
might shoot myself?"

"Or I might drill you with it, if you start to get on my nerves.  
I can manage pulling a trigger with the Force."

"I'll be careful," he winked, then abruptly whirled in one swift 
motion, the blaster flying to his grip.  Mara sensed the danger in 
the same moment, her weapon also appearing instantaneously in her 
right hand.  A half-dozen burly men approached them, an assortment 
of heavy rifles held in deceptively nonchalant ready stances.  
Gang tattoos adorned their muscular arms.

"Well, well, this could be our lucky day, boys," one of the men 
sneered, his long dirty hair framing a heavily scarred face.

"We have no credits or valuables," Luke stated in a carefully 
controlled voice.  "Move aside, and let us pass."

Mara recognized the Force manipulation in his tone.  Influencing 
one, even two, minds was certainly within Luke's capabilities.  
But six at a time?

Scarface hesitated, a confused expression crossing his ugly face.

"He's usin' one of them sorcerer tricks, you fool!" shouted 
another grimy man, who had circled behind Luke.

*They know who we are!* Mara sent, her blaster swiveling 
cautiously from target to target in their stand-off.

*No kidding,* Luke returned dryly.

"What do you want?" Mara demanded, turning to address the more 
perceptive member of the group.

"Why, we want you, sweet cheeks," the man laughed nastily.  "And 
your pretty boyfriend here."

Luke had no trouble feeling the indignant fury racing through 
Mara.  *Stay calm!* he sent, not taking his eyes off their 
assailants.

One of the other men erupted in a loud snorting guffaw.  "Sith, 
what I want is my share of that million credit bounty!"

"You're bounty hunters?" Luke stated the obvious.

"We are now, sonny," the apparent leader retorted, eliciting 
another round of laughter.  "A million credits for a smart-mouthed 
redhead and a blonde spellcaster.  Dead or alive.  Look just like 
your holos, too, 'cept for them duds."

"Sorry to disappoint you ... gentlemen ... but you can't have us," 
Mara retorted, her mind racing to formulate a plan of attack.

*Hold your fire,* Luke warned her.  *We can't take out three 
apiece before they'd get a shot off at us, not at this close 
range.*

"Just put down those blasters, and we won't have to go the 'dead' 
route," growled the leader, growing impatient to get this over 
with.

*So what do you suggest, oh high and mighty Jedi,* Mara snapped 
back, eyes narrowing.

*I suggest we even the odds a little,* Luke returned, bending 
slightly as if to lay down his weapon.  He suddenly swept one hand 
in an arc, ripping the rifles from the relaxing grasp of the three 
men nearest him.  Mara wasted no time in blasting two others as 
they gaped open-mouthed at this new turn of events.  As Luke shot 
a third, the three disarmed men fell upon both Mara and Luke, 
intent on overpowering them with both raw strength and the new 
sprinkling of weapons that appeared in their hands.

One burly thug wrestled Mara's blaster from her grip, though not 
without a great deal of difficulty.  She retaliated with a 
powerful roundhouse kick to his head, slamming him against the 
slimy wall.  Firmly grasping his head, Mara snapped his neck with 
one swift jerk.

Looking over, she saw the last two on Luke.  One pinned his arms 
securely, while the other bore down on him waving a deadly-looking 
vibro-blade.  Luke kicked up his feet and pushed the blade wielder 
back.  Mara followed up with a swift chop, the flat edge of her 
hand connecting with the back of his neck, dropping him like a 
duracrete block.  Snatching up the man's blade, she slit his 
throat in the blink of an eye.  Calling her blaster to her hand, 
Mara then shot the last man between the eyes just as Luke ducked 
out of the way. 

"Stang, Mara!  You could have shot me!" Luke protested.
 
"I knew you'd move."  She lifted an eyebrow as Luke surveyed the 
area in dismay, appalled at the carnage surrounding them.  "I 
believe that was five for me, and one for you," she boasted.  "Now 
quit gawking and help me hide the bodies before anyone wanders 
by."

"I wasn't gawking," Luke grumbled, pulling one of the victims into 
a nearby, long-abandoned, storeroom.

"Don't start preaching that we should've stunned them, either," 
Mara growled disdainfully, tugging at a second corpse.  "You know 
we couldn't leave any witnesses to our location."

"I know," Luke bit out, next dragging the man with the broken 
neck.  "But was it really necessary to be this ... brutal?" 

Mara halted his progress by roughly clasping his tunic.  "Look, 
Skywalker, I'm an assassin.  This is how I operate.  Swift, clean, 
and efficient.  If you've got objections..."  She hesitated, 
looking him in the eye.  "... we could go our separate ways."

Luke bit his lower lip, returning her stare.  "I think ... we 
should stick together.  At least until we make it off planet."

Mara bent to retrieve the next lifeless victim, her exhalation of 
breath hiding her sigh of relief.  "It would be easier to steal 
one ship together than each trying to hijack one."

"Yeah," came Luke's quiet agreement.  He bent to retrieve a small 
object that had fallen from his load's pocket.

"What's that?" Mara paused to eye his motions.

"Holo cube."  He flicked the small object on.  Two miniature holos 
materialized side by side in the air just above the cube.  Holos 
of the same two people currently eyeing the spectacle curiously.  
Mara read the Imperial edict inscribed below the images, snorting 
in derision.

"A million credits.  Didn't know I was that valuable."

Luke deactivated the device and dropped it to the ground, crushing 
it beneath the heel of his boot.  "Only a half mil for you.  I'm 
on there too, if you didn't notice."

"Didn't take 'em long, did it?"  Mara grunted with the weight of 
the burliest of the group.

"You could use the Force to lift him," Luke pointed out.

Mara let her unfortunate victim drop to the ground with a thud.  
"Be my guest."

Luke frowned at her insensitivity, then easily levitated the body 
through the dilapidated doorway.

"Why didn't you float them all in there?" Mara complained.

"I wasn't having trouble dragging them," he retorted.

"No, you were just having trouble killing them in the first 
place."  Mara speared him with a haughty sneer as she methodically 
searched through each bounty hunter's pockets.

Luke watched her with a look of disgust.  "What are you doing?"

"Waste not, want not," she shot back, tossing him a small vibro-
blade.  She dropped the spare blaster power packs and handful of 
credits she'd found into her pack.  "Maybe we can buy some food."

"Sure, and even tip the headwaiter for a window table," Luke 
retorted sarcastically, stuffing the blade into his boot.  He 
figured he should be glad they'd already found other attire, or 
she'd be wanting to 'borrow' their clothes next.

Luke shook his head.  All this snapping at each other wasn't 
gaining them a thing. "Let's go," he muttered, sticking his 
blaster back in his waistband and sealing the door as best he 
could.

Mara stalked along beside him, though she kept her blaster in her 
hand.  "Every two-bit scum in the city will be hunting for us.  
This smells like Vader's work.  He has a propensity for using 
bounty hunters."

Luke frowned.  "Maybe, except for the 'dead or alive' part.  He 
always specified alive and well on previous bounties on me."

"Perhaps you've rejected his parental overtures one too many 
times," Mara scoffed, then softened her tone when she saw the 
downcast expression he wore.  "Or maybe this is all Palpatine's 
doing.  Regardless, we need to be more careful.  Find something to 
camouflage our appearance."

"I wish we had cloaks with hoods," Luke mused.

"While you're wishing, how about wishing we were on a ship a dozen 
parsecs from here."  Mara tucked stray strands of hair back into 
her loose braid.  She knew her red-gold locks were the most 
identifiable feature about the two of them.  "Can't you conjure up 
a Force disguise?"

"For both of us?  Day and night?  At the same time I'm shielding 
my presence?  And monitoring for danger?"  Luke shot her a 
derisive look.  "I'm not that good.  Yet."

"Ahh, so there is a cocky Jedi buried in there after all," Mara 
snickered, poking him in the chest.  She was glad to see him in a 
somewhat better humor, and wondered briefly if all Jedi were this 
moody.

"No," Luke returned her bantering.  "Just hanging around with Han 
too much."


The pair soon reached the outskirts of an immense underground 
domed chamber, similar to the one Luke had visited with Lando 
prior to their rescue of Leia from Black Sun.  There would be no 
Ho'Din plant merchant to help him this time, though.

They kept to the back alleys, circling around until they reached 
the rear of what smelled to be some kind of eatery.  Several times 
they had to crouch low, avoiding the proliferation of stormtrooper 
patrols present.  

"Stay here," Luke ordered, motioning Mara down with one hand.  
"I'll go look through that dumpster."

"Hey!"  She naturally started to object, but Luke cut her off.

"Yes, I know you're in charge.  And you assigned me the task of 
food procurement, I believe.  So let me carry out my task."

"Sorry," Mara snickered, gesturing him toward the odorous bin.  "I 
forgot how you enjoy groping through garbage."

Carefully checking the vicinity, Luke hopped to the edge of the 
dingy plasteel container.  He started to reach down for piece of 
brown Noryath bread, but jerked his hand back as a ditmouse 
scampered out of the refuse.

*Doing okay?*  Luke heard Mara's snort in his mind.  He ignored 
her, pulling out the bread, along with some scraps of charbo-root 
and other unidentifiable vegetables and tubers.  Finding a 
discarded cloth shopping bag, he stuffed it as full as he dared, 
avoiding the tempting pieces of grilled meat.  Too much chance of 
spoilage, he decided.  The last thing they needed was to come down 
with food poisoning.

When Luke hustled back to where he'd left Mara, he found she was 
nowhere to be seen.  Doing his best to remain calm, he stretched 
out with the Force as much as he dared, still keeping his shield 
intact.  He sensed her less than fifty meters down the alley, 
scrounging through refuse bins herself.  She looked up as he 
approached, a mischievous grin on her face.

"What are you getting?" Luke asked, wrinkling his nose at the 
chemical smells wafting out from the small shop they were crouched 
behind.  "What kind of place is this?"

"A place you've never been in, I'm sure," Mara chuckled.  "It's an 
image emporium."  At his baffled look, she added, "A styling 
boutique."  She lifted some of her reddish-gold tresses.  "For 
changing hair color, among other things."

Luke's eyebrows raised in understanding.  "And you found some 
dye?"

"Yes," she replied, holding up several half-empty containers.  
"Should be enough for both of us."

"Okay."  Luke looked around warily.  "We'd better get out of here.  
We're probably pushing our luck hanging around here this long."

"What a worrier you are," Mara groused, though she too kept her 
guard up.  She followed Luke through a section of empty ramshackle 
buildings, stopping as he ducked inside a dark dismal structure.  

Luke stuck his head out a moment later, nodding for her to enter.  
"Looks safe."

"I'm so relieved to have your certification on that," she retorted 
dryly, brushing past him.  She dragged a threadbare coverlet away 
from a window and settled herself on it, languidly tucking her 
legs under her.  "All right, Skywalker, let's see if your picnic 
will compare to the one I provided in your suite."

"Very funny," Luke mumbled under his breath.  Not daring to ignite 
a glow rod, he rummaged through his pack of scavenged fare by the 
light streaming dimly through the dusty transparisteel pane.  He 
set the repast out in front of her with a flourish, complete with 
half-empty bottles of mineral water.  "Your feast awaits, madam."

"What, no tomuon steak, no rycrit ribs?"  Mara squinted in the 
gloom, sniffing suspiciously.  "Are you sure this is edible?"

"No, I'm trying to poison you."  He reached out and picked up a 
piece of dried yellowish root.  Bracing himself, he bit off a 
chunk and chewed slowly.  "It's delicious," he declared, working 
hard to keep a look of disgust off his face.  "Tastes just like 
... sautéed giviot root."

Mara warily picked out a small piece of the same food and took a 
small bite.  She quickly spit it out.  "Pasteboard, you mean!"

"Have to get your fiber," he winked, though he put down his own 
portion.  "We'll think of it as an appetizer."  Looking over the 
meager selection, he next sampled some of the Noryath bread.  
"Better, really," he assured his skeptical dinner companion.

The entire meal pretty much followed the same path -- Mara harping 
at Luke, Luke apologizing to Mara.  Luke grew more sullen as they 
progressed through each course, barely acknowledging her acid 
comments.  When they had eaten as much as they could force down, 
he gathered up the remainder and stuffed it back into his 
makeshift bag.

"You're actually going to save this fodder?" Mara grumbled 
indignantly.

"Unless you want to munch on granite slugs, or take our chances 
catching sewer rats to grill," he shot back, his patience nearly 
gone.

"That would be preferable to the swill you picked out," she 
retorted, her voice rising in vexation.

Luke started to rise to her bait, opening his mouth, then clamping 
it back shut.  He rose to his feet and slung the bag over his 
shoulder, struggling to keep his seething emotions under control.

"Do you complain just out of habit, or do you have something 
against me personally?" Luke finally bit out over his shoulder, 
retreating to a shadowy corner.

Mara stiffened at his words.  She had been hard on him, 
unnecessarily so.  They were equals in this endeavor, but she was 
treating him like a despised underling.  She straightened up, 
shouldered their backpack, and prepared to make amends.

Mara picked her way unerringly around the broken pieces of 
furniture to where Luke stood, peering blankly out their lone 
window.  "Just out of habit," she said softly, touching his arm.  
"Skywalker, I'm ... I'm sorry."

She felt him relax a bit, though he didn't answer.  "I've never 
had a partner before," she continued.  "I've never met anyone I 
could rely on, anyone I could trust, like I do you."
 
This time Luke turned slightly to face her.  "I'm sure the fact 
that I've reduced you to eating garbage hasn't helped," he 
murmured quietly.

"I knew what I was getting into."  Mara took a quick breath, then 
plunged ahead.  "Let's face it, I'm not a pleasant person.  I 
need... I need to absorb some of your influence.  And not the part 
tainted by your friend Solo."  She rubbed one hand lightly up his 
arm.  "I'd like a piece of Luke Skywalker inside me."

Mara's hand froze on his arm, gripping it tightly.  Stars, she 
hadn't really said that, had she?

Luke went slack-jawed a moment, then all sanity left him.

"Would you prefer that, in the tub, or in the bed?"

His only coherent thought afterward was 'Skywalker, you're an 
imbecile.'

Silence fell again, punctuated finally by the sharp crack of 
Mara's hand across Luke's cheek.

"I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man in the 
galaxy," she growled in a low voice.

At that moment, Luke decided he most likely would be the last man 
in the galaxy to ever sleep with a woman.  He vowed to put as much 
space between himself and Han and Lando as he could.  All their 
womanizing advice only got him deeper into trouble.

"I thought you were different than other men."  Mara pulled away 
from him, turning to stare out the window.

"I thought I was, too," he muttered, rubbing his cheek and feeling 
about as low as the grubworms he'd seen in the garbage dumpster.

Without warning, Mara grabbed his arm and dragged Luke away from 
the window.

"What...?" he started to sputter when she cut him off.

"Stormtroopers!"

Luke risked one glance out the window and saw a phalanx of 
troopers marching briskly down the alley in their direction.  Oh, 
stang!  Going out the door they'd come in was out of the question.  
But was there a backdoor to this hovel?  Mara was already on her 
way to finding out.

*Do you think they know we're here?* Luke sent as they scrambled 
to the rear of their refuge.

*Could be a random patrol.  Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll pass 
us by.*  Of all the un-Mara-like things to say!  His perpetual 
optimism wasn't the aspect of his personality she was hoping to be 
influenced by.

*I don't believe in luck, good or bad.*  Luke led the way through 
the jumble of discarded clutter.

*Interesting point of view,* Mara retorted.  In the near darkness 
she surveyed the tiny room they'd entered.  No windows, no door.  
*Looks like bad luck to me.*

Luke felt along the rough sheets of plasteel that made up the back 
wall.  Pushing with his hands, he felt one panel give way 
slightly.  Bracing one shoulder against the loose section, he 
shoved outward with all his strength, adding some Force energy in 
the mix.  What he wouldn't give for his lightsaber!

*Hurry!* Mara cautioned.  *I think they hear us.*

"What do you think I'm ...* He gave one last exerted push and the 
panel broke off with a loud crack. *... doing!*  Luke made sure 
Mara followed him through the jagged opening before turning on his 
heels and fleeing down the squalid alleyway.  The clatter of 
stormtrooper boots reverberated behind them, and blaster shots 
began filling the eerie stillness.

Mara returned fire as she ran, though she doubted her diminutive 
weapon would be very effectual against their armor, especially at 
this distance.  Luke somehow found an entrance to another alley, 
which led to an even more desolate passageway, which ended in a 
series of crumbling stairwells leading ever deeper into the blight 
that was Imperial City's underground.

Luke reached out and grabbed Mara's arm, pulling her into one of 
the random stairways.  They bolted lightly down the steps as 
quickly as the decaying duracrete allowed, swatting away a 
bothersome hawkbat rather than risk the echoing noise their 
blasters would make.  They ran for hours, long after any trace of 
pursuit could be heard or sensed.  Ducking into one of a multitude 
of long-forsaken tenements, Luke and Mara finally slumped against 
a wall, ignoring the squalid filth that surrounded them.

"Are you all right?" Luke wheezed.

"Just worry about yourself," Mara bit out, struggling to catch her 
breath.  She closed her eyes briefly, then glanced at her 
companion.  "We've lost them.  You should sleep while we have the 
chance."

"I'm fine," Luke retorted.  "I can keep going as well as you can."

"Don't be ridiculous, Skywalker.  I've been trained to go without 
sleep for days at a time."

"I'm sure I could too," he declared, but his determination was 
waning.

What little patience Mara had was wearing thin fast.  "Look, 
whoever stays awake will have to shield the other."  She gave him 
a hard look.  "I trust myself to shield you a lot more than I 
trust you to shield me, especially as tired as you look." 

Luke gave up.  He had already decided he was no match for the 
fiery redhead in a 'glaring' showdown.  And he was exhausted, no 
doubt about it.

"Wake me in two hours," he instructed her sternly, as he claimed 
an open spot on the floor.  "I mean it."

"I will."

Luke curled up, pillowing his head on his arm as comfortably as he 
could.  "Got me covered?" he asked, referring to their shared 
Force shield.

Mara frowned slightly as she reached out to hide his presence.  
She scooted over closer to him, and awkwardly rested a hand on his 
shoulder.  "It seems to be easier when we're touching," she 
explained reluctantly.

Luke just nodded, feeling her Force touch cover him like a 
soothing blanket, and slumber soon claimed him.

Mara rested her head on her drawn-up knees, doing her best to 
ignore the cramp that was beginning to develop in her outstretched 
arm.  She regretted not finding a more comfortable position to sit 
before Skywalker began dozing.  She almost lost contact with him 
twice already when he twitched in his sleep.

"Blast!" She hurried to grab him as he stirred once more, moving 
away from her hold.  Mara had had enough of this.  "Skywalker!  
Wake up!"  She shook him roughly, and he became instantly awake, 
hand moving toward his blaster.

"What's wrong?" he questioned as he swept their surroundings 
looking for danger.

"You, that's what," she snapped.  "You're jerking around more than 
a mawrat with its tail on fire."  She gave him a hard frown, then 
began inching back toward the wall, his tunic still clutched in 
her fist.  "Scoot back here with me," she ordered.

"What are you doing?" Luke did his best to keep up with her, 
fearful she would literally drag him if he moved too slow to suit 
her.

Mara didn't respond immediately; instead she fashioned herself a 
niche in the mound of debris around them, then began maneuvering 
her companion close to her outstretched legs.  "Here.  Put your 
head in my lap."

Luke looked at her disbelief.  "What?"

"I'm tired of trying to keep hold of you with my hand," she 
explained impatiently.  "This way, I won't have to."

Luke gave her another dubious look, then began settling his head 
where she indicated.

"Uh-huh," she stopped him.  "Looking out the other direction."

Luke felt a blush starting to creep up, and quickly turned over to 
face her knees.  Even through her worn leggings, the tactile 
contact warmed his cheek, and a soothing sensation spread 
throughout his body.

"Now go back to sleep, and try to lay still."  

Luke closed his eyes, endeavoring to carry out her commands, and 
imagining how much Han and Chewie would kid him about this if they 
ever found out.

Mara leaned her head back against a cushion of tattered rags.  How 
far she had fallen.  From the Emperor's court to a squalid 
trashheap.  And she had never felt freer in her life.   No matter 
what the future held, she knew she had made the right choice.

Mara had no illusions regarding their chances of getting out of 
this alive.  She knew the Emperor was ruthless in hunting down 
anyone who crossed him.  She was usually the one doing the 
hunting.  So who would he send after her?  Vader?  Possibly.  She 
knew of no one else skilled enough to track them down.  She and 
Luke couldn't maintain this Force shield forever.  She and Luke...

She glanced down at the tousled blonde head resting peacefully on 
her legs.  Surprisingly, he had barely moved a muscle since 
beginning the new sleeping arrangement.  Maybe she had been a bit 
rash in her vow to never sleep with him.  They'd already tested 
out that course once already, if you wanted to get literal.  It 
was the best night's sleep she could ever remember.  

Mara's thoughts drifted easily to that night in Luke's suite.  She 
would never forget how wonderful it had been waking up with his 
arms around her, how natural it had felt.  She already regretted 
striking him, and was glad to see the red mark on his cheek was 
fading fast.  She was certainly going to have to change her 
approach if she ever wanted to share his bed in the future.

Mara sighed and absently stroked Luke's sandy locks.  His hair had 
darkened quite a bit from the holos she'd seen of his early days 
with the Rebellion.  Too much time since he'd left the twin suns 
of Tatooine.  She continued running her fingers through his 
marginally clean hair.  Hair that would soon become even darker.  
In fact, Mara thought as she squinted at her chrono in the gloom, 
it was about time for Mr. Sunshine to rise and shine.

Before she could even jostle him, Luke began to stir on his own.  
Though Mara could sense he was awake, he didn't get in a hurry to 
move from his comfortable position.

"Let me guess, internal chrono?" Mara intruded on his silent 
thoughts.

"Yeah," came the quiet reply.

"Uhh, well, ... Skywalker, about what happened earlier ... I'm 
sorry I slapped you."  Mara bit her lip apprehensively.  She 
didn't know if she'd ever get used to gushing out apologies.  It 
was so foreign to her nature, but the more time she spent with 
Luke, the more she seemed to consider the feelings of others. 

"I'm sorry I made such an inappropriate remark."  Luke had 
apologies down pat.

Mara gave a self-deprecating chuckle.  "I gave you the perfect 
opening, how could you resist?"  Sithspit, she'd just done it 
again, Mara thought horridly, covering her face with her hands.

"I'm resisting right now," he mumbled, still staring out past her 
kneecaps.

Mara reached down and swatted at his hair.  She couldn't believe 
she was allowing him to still lie there like that.  "Nerf," she 
muttered under her breath, leaning her head back against the wall.

This time Luke rose up and twisted around to look at her.  "What 
did you call me?"

"Nerf," she repeated.  "You got a problem with that?"

Luke shook his head, sitting up beside her.  "No, ... it's just 
that ..., it's an expression Leia likes to use."

Great, now she was reminding him of his girlfriend.  "You'll make 
it back to her," Mara said, after a moment's silence.

"Not if we sit here all day."

"Hold on, not so fast."  Mara tugged at his tunic as he started to 
rise.

"I'm sorry," Luke stopped short.  "Did you want to sleep awhile 
first?"

"No," Mara assured him.  "But there's a little matter of dying 
some hair."

"You brought the dye?"

"I already had it packed," Mara shrugged.  She began pulling out 
the partially used bottles, which Luke eyed warily.

"You sure that's all the same color?"

"Nope," she laughed.  "So that's why I'm going to mix it all 
together."

"All right," Luke drug out slowly, still not convinced about this 
whole business.  He watched as Mara poured all the contents into 
the biggest of the plastique containers.  "You first."

His eyes widened suddenly as Mara began pulling off her outer 
tunic.  "What are you doing?"

"We want to dye our hair, not our clothes."  

Luke watched, fascinated, as Mara knelt and tilted her head 
forward, long golden-red tresses brushing close to the grimy stone 
floor.  She worked most of the concoction into her hair, gradually 
turning it a dark shade of brown.  Finally she threw her head back 
and turned to her silent audience.  "Well, is it even?  How do I 
look?"

"Different," he nodded.

"That's the idea," she winked.  She gestured for him to come 
closer.  "Your turn."

"I can do it myself."

"Nonsense," Mara disagreed.  "My hands are already brown.  Take 
off your tunic and get your noggin over here."

Luke did as he was instructed, kneeling perfectly still.  "Will 
that come off your hands?"

"Sure, if I clean them right away," she chuckled.  "They don't 
make it out of sewer sludge."

Luke finally relaxed as Mara's surprisingly soft touch massaged 
the colorant down to his scalp.  This actually feels good, he 
thought, his mind wandering to visions of her running her hands 
through his hair in other settings...

All too soon, Mara pulled back, gathering the empty bottles 
together.  "There, all done."  She fingered the ends of her own 
darkened locks, then glanced back at him.  "Just like twins."

Luke jerked at that statement, an undecipherable look crossing his 
face.  "Not funny," he muttered.  Daydreaming about one girl who 
turned out to be his twin was all he could handle in a lifetime.

Luckily, Mara didn't press, and Luke didn't elaborate.  She found 
a stagnant pool of dirty water just outside their little refuge 
and rinsed her hands quickly.  Re-donning their tunics, the pair 
of escapees continued on their trek.


                     * * * * * * * * * *