"I believe The Heir's hoping that he'll be able to persuade the Emperor to rescind the veto." Reece said diplomatically for the benefit of surveillance transmitters, the translation of which, Hallin knew, was that The Heir wished it known that he was still willing to negotiate some kind of deal on The Emperor's terms.
"But if not, I know he's making preparations for an extended tour of the non-trade route Colonies along with the Fury and the Dauntless. I believe he'll use this return to the Palace as an opportunity to make sure that his affairs are in order for the protracted tour of duty."
Translation: If Palpatine didn't let him go on this little jaunt outside the Core Systems, then Skywalker would make it his mission to stay away from Coruscant as long as possible.
Sometimes surveillance could be a rather helpful way to put one's point across without having to resort to anything as crude as speaking it out loud.
"The Heir's ordered all of his personal staff back down to the Palace- your shuttle leaves the main bay in four hours. Please be prompt. If you have any queries, then I'll be in The Heir's ready-room on the bridge tying up his affairs here."
Which meant, of course, 'I'm in one of the few rooms onboard the Peerless which isn't bugged, so come up and see me if you need to talk before you leave'.
Life was so much easier when you knew the language.
.
.
.
Mara found Skywalker in the ebony-floored Practice Halls, beginning his early morning lightsaber stanza. They now practiced together every other day, though he'd resumed daily practice, as his injuries allowed. They also practiced close-quarters combat every other evening, each proficient at the other's speciality but appreciating the chance to polish their own skills.
And of course, Mara simply enjoyed his company, though she'd never admit that out loud.
He was always at his most relaxed during these sessions Mara knew, his mind completely focused in the moment, all those tight defences slipping just slightly.
Which was good, because she had a mission today. He'd shut himself away in the private rooms of his apartments yesterday following his meeting with the Emperor and even Mara had known better than to try to follow him. Instead, she'd spent the evening thinking about his actions on the incoming flight, eventually taking a trip back down to the maintenance bays to check the download of his fighter's system log.
According to the log, there was no malfunction in any system when he'd spun slowly out of control and into oncoming flight lanes. The onboard systems registered the near-collision and the fact that it had sounded warnings in the cockpit a full ten seconds before the projected impact but no action was taken. Checking back further revealed something even more puzzling- shortly before that, the shields had been deactivated and the log registered no pressure on the stick for thirty seconds, which should have been the cut-off at which the 'dead-mans stick', the system autopilot, activated. The stick itself had 'buzzed'- the vibration a standard warning that autopilot was about to cut in - and there had been a two-second pressure on it... just enough for the autopilot to begin its countdown from thirty again.
Which meant he'd actually released the stick of his fighter and just... allowed it to drift into oncoming shipping. Purposely, because when it had tried to activate the autopilot he'd done just enough to disable it again and leave the tiny craft in freefall, shields down...
She'd sat in the fighter for more than an hour trying to fathom that one. Unable to come up with any rational explanation she'd decided to go straight to the source, and to stand any chance of getting the truth from him, she'd chosen her moment with care.
He completed the Kata as she set forward, studying his form. He was growing a little smoother every day now; a little closer to his previous level. His left side was still weak and stiff to Mara's trained eye, but not enough that it offered her any advantage anymore in lightsaber practice though in the close quarters combat practice it still left him vulnerable... and she wasn't above taking any advantage she could get when going up against Skywalker. Either in combat practice or drawing information out of that wary forest of defences.
The trick, Mara knew, was to catch him at his most confident and therefore at his most relaxed- and that was always with a lightsaber in his hand.
He turned to her, waiting for her to cross the ebony floor of the large Practice Hall, chest still rising from the exertion of the forms. As he waited, he swung his saber in a slow loop to either side of his body, then began to release the hilt as it made its return loop, catching it with alternate hands, making Mara wince.
"I don't know if anyone's told you, but these things are dangerous." she said, holding her own saber hilt up.
He smiled loosely, unperturbed, "Your trouble is that you practice too much with those 'safe' blades." He said of the practice sabres in the cabinet at the far wall, "You're afraid of a live lightsaber."
Mara was unrepentant. "I'd say that's a reasonable reaction to something that cuts limbs off on contact."
"There's a galaxy of difference between being nervous of something and holding a healthy respect for it. If you flinch every time a live blade comes close to your face, it's pretty much a self-fulfilling prophesy."
Mara raised her eyebrows, "I don't flin..."
As she spoke, Luke whipped his saber up in a lightening-fast roundhouse blow which levelled out at her chin, Mara activating her blade and bringing it up to block in the same moment. His ruby blade stopped dead at her shoulder as she shied back, no power in her hasty parry.
"You flinched." he said simply.
"Well you would have flinched at that!!" Mara shouted, heart pumping.
"No, I would have ducked." he grinned, lowering his blade, "With your arms pulled in so close to your body like that, you'd never have anywhere near the force necessary stop this kind of wide, sweeping blow - unless you took the strike very close to the hilt, which is always a gamble because either you'd just get carried back with the incoming blade or more likely, your opponent needs only make a slight change in trajectory to cut your saber hilt in two- which would be the least of your problems because he'd probably drop just a little lower and slice both your hands off... then just keep on going through your neck."
"Fine." Mara said, internalising that burst of information, "Next time I'll duck."
He shrugged, "I'd probably make some effort to make contact with the incoming blade too, just to limit my opponent's responses but yeah, basically I'd be getting the hell out of its way. Any blow with that kind of power is difficult to deal with."
Mara nodded, considering; Skywalker had turned out to be quite a good teacher, casual enough in his approach that she didn't take umbrage or feel that he was talking down to her despite his obvious expertise, and his own openness and willingness to listen in their sessions together working on close-quarters-combat, in which Mara was still holding the upper hand- just- were the example which enabled her to view his lightsaber lessons with the same conscientious grace.
"So," she said, "If they're so difficult to block, why don't they get used more often?"
He pulled his saber up and back, as if to deliver another wide blow, then froze. "Because there's a good half-second when the blade's back here past my own shoulder line, leaving me wide open to any attack if my opponent has fast reflexes." He brought the blade around again, slower this time, and Mara forced herself to keep from flinching as it came in, though she still somehow ended up with her own blade pulled in tight to her body as she blocked instinctively.
"You need to catch the blade and just guide it past yourself." he said, "Deflect it, don't try to stop its momentum- it's too great. Here, make the move on me."