“Yes—”
“There's an emptiness in my life, too, and for the same lack. I've come here to ask you to go away with me, and help me find our people, so you and I can both be whole again.”
“I don't think I've ever been whole,” said Luke, turning his face from her. “The pieces of my life were scattered by a storm before I ever had a chance to tackle the puzzle. And every missing piece that turns up completely changes the picture. I was alone, and then there was Leia—my sister. I was an orphan, and then there was Anakin—Vader—my father.”
He laughed to himself. “I wanted to go to school just to get off the farm, and then my father's mentor came to me, and taught me the secrets of a power I didn't know I had. I was the adopted son of a moisture farmer living next door to nowhere, and then there was a lightsaber, and enemies—the most powerful men in the galaxy—who wanted me dead.”
Luke turned and looked back at Akanah. “I don't know if I'm ready to redraw the picture again. Maybe that's what keeps me from believing you. I want to know my mother. You're right about that. But maybe I'm just a little bit afraid to. And that's a feeling that I haven't felt in a long time.”
“I knew when I came here that this would be a great shock,” she said. “But you must reclaim this piece of what you are.”
“I don't know who you are,” Luke said stubbornly. “I don't know that anything you've said is true.”
“Then I will tell you some things that you know are true,” said Akanah. “Your father was lost to the dark side, and you were forced to try to kill him. You were nearly lost to the darkness yourself. That must weigh heavily on you—wondering if you carry his weakness.”
“I've faced that test,” Luke said defensively.
“And would you have survived it without Leia?”
Luke Skywalker had no answer for that question.
“Perhaps that is why you cannot let yourself love without fear,” Akanah said softly. “Perhaps that is why you have no children of your own. You must fear that you will repeat your family's tragedy in another generation. You must fear that someday you will find yourself ready to kill your own son, and him ready to kill you.”
“NO—”
“You must fear yourself. How could you not? How could anyone, if he had walked your path? The bond that links you to all the horrors of Darth Vader's reign is a terrible burden. Is that not why you're here?” she asked pointedly. “Isn't that the meaning of this structure? You may have forgiven Anakin Skywalker—but you know the Republic can never forgive Vader for his crimes in the service of Palpatine.”
Luke was beyond denial. “How do you know all this?” he asked hoarsely.
“I've studied you—before I came here, and since. Hero of the Rebellion, Jedi Master, defender of the Republic,” she said. “Even on Carratos, we hear all the stories. And I saw in them all the things I've said to you.”
Turning half away from her, Luke shook his head.
“No. That can't be. I've voiced those fears to no one. No one.”
Akanah glided closer. “They're written in your eyes, and lie heavy on your spirit. You'd see them yourself, but for the blindness we all have when we look in a mirror,” she said. “But remember this, Luke—your strength in the Force did not come only from your father. The gift of the Light came from your mother—and your mother was of my people. That is why your heart is telling you you must come with me.”
Their eyes met. Luke felt her gaze like a light cast into the dark corners of his psyche. Her voice disarmed him. Her words unveiled him. She had taken down all his shields, and he was defenseless against her, his mind wholly open to her. But it was a strangely safe feeling.
She already knew his most unthinkable thoughts, and still she held her hand out to him.
“Test me, if you must,” Akanah said.
“No,” he said. “It's not necessary.”
“I will wait here, if you want to return to Yavin for your testing equipment,” she offered. “But I can tell you what you would see—nothing. The White Current is not the Force you know, only with a different name. But it is a manifestation of the All. I will teach you what I can.”
“You assume a great deal.”
“I speak from hope only. Will you come with me, Luke Skywalker?”
“I don't know,” he said. “There's something I must do first—someone I need to tell.”
“Leia.”
“Yes. Is there any reason I shouldn't?”
“No reason,” she said, and smiled. “You said it was not necessary to test me. But that question—”
“You're right,” Luke agreed. “If you'd said, 'No, this has to be our secret,' I would've doubted you. But there's another reason I have to do this. I have no memories of my mother. Leia has but a few, no more than glimpses touched by emotion.”
“There are more memories there. Nashira was protected, just as you were.”
“I can believe that. But what you've already told me may be enough to unlock any hidden doors, allow me to probe her mind with more success than I've had in the past. And to find another few glimpses of her here”—he touched his temple with his fingertips—”would mean a great deal. If you could tell me even more—”
“I'm sorry.” Akanah's sudden smile was touched by humor. “Fifteen years ago, you weren't important—just Fallanassi gossip. If I had known what was to come, I would have paid more attention.”
He laughed. “Will you wait here while I go see Leia?”
“Of course,” she said. “I've waited long enough for this night. I can wait a little longer for our journey to begin.”
Luke's flight suit felt strange on his body, both too loose and too confining. The E-wing looked like an inert sculpture in its hangar, covered by a fine, pale coating of dust that had fallen out of the still air.
“Artee,” Luke said. “Exit standby mode.”
Almost instantly several lights of different colors glowed on the dome and faceplates of the astromech droid. A moment later it gave an answering chirrup.
“Preflight the ship,” Luke said, starting his own quick but thorough inspection.
The droid whistled, and Luke glanced down at the display bar on his flight suit.
“Yes, you can stop monitoring the house systems,” Luke said.
R7-TI's response had the stridency of an alarm.
“Yes, I know there's someone in the house,” Luke said, ducking under the left wing. “Just leave some lights on and the upper passways open. She'll be fine.”
The E-wing passed both Artee's and Luke's checks with flying colors.
Both the design and the example before Luke were relatively new, far more able and robust than the T-65 X-wing he had flown against the first Death Star at Yavin. And the E-wing he was about to climb into had been overhauled to factory-new condition after its last taste of combat.
Still, he hesitated.
Technically, the E-wing was on loan to the Jedi academy for training purposes, but only because there was no provision in the quartermaster's regulations for loaning a front-line starfighter to a civilian. Ackbar had persuaded him that, given the unpredictability of life, it was far more sensible for him to have a fully armed E-wing at his disposal than an unarmed sprint, ketch, or runabout.
“Think of yourself as a member of the Republic's militia. And a militiaman should have his weapon at home with him, in the event he is called on again,” Ackbar had said.
Luke had accepted that argument reluctantly. But in the months before he returned to Coruscant, he had become more and more uncomfortable in the E-wing's cockpit. It was a heavily armed killer, an Intimidator, an unspoken threat wherever it appeared. As such, it represented a part of his life that he was trying to leave behind.
His X-wing had fit him like a second skin, like an extension of himself. He had taken joy in flying it, even in battle. But that had been another, younger Luke. The E-wing was different. It was an embarrassment, an ugly set of clothes he was forced to wear when he went out i
n public. And he missed the familiar presence of Artoo, who simply did not fit—physically or electronically—in the E-wing's R7 astromech interface.
One last time, he thought. Then maybe they'll let me give it back.
“Open the canopy, Artee,” he said, and directed his concentration at the hangar's front wall. Seams appeared in the unbroken expanse of silicon and quartz crystal, and the wall opened on hinges that had not existed just moments before. Bitter air filled the hangar as the wind screamed past the opening.
In the absence of a boarding ladder, Luke leaped lightly to the edge of the open cockpit and clambered in. As the canopy closed over him, he pictured in his mind the E-wing hovering a few hands above the hangar door and gliding silently out into the night. As he pictured it, it happened—except that the silence was broken by Artee's insistent squawking. There was no explaining to the rigid-minded astromech that hovering with no engines did not necessarily represent an emergency.
“Power up engines,” Luke said.
Artee cooed in relief and complied.
Luke climbed out from the hermitage in a widening spiral, scanning the ground for further clues about his visitor. As he passed over the cliff for the second time, he spotted her ship—an elderly Verpine Adventurer--resting a hundred meters back from the precipice.
I can't believe I didn't hear that clunker coming, he thought. Pre-Empire, lifting body design, hoverjets for atmospheric mode--Memories stirred, crossed, linked. He heard Leia's impudent voice saying, “You came here in that thing? You're braver than I thought.” That had been aboard the Death Star, the first time they'd met—when he'd seen himself rescuing a princess, not a long-lost sister.
A long time ago.
Luke pulled the stick hard over, and the E-wing wheeled nimbly toward Imperial City. With a thought directed ahead of him, he let Leia know he was coming.
For now, he kept the reason to himself.
He did not see Akanah watching from the tower, her hopeful gaze following the track of the engine exhausts as the E-wing disappeared into the night.
Without warning Leia sat bolt upright in her bed, breaking Han's embrace.
“What is it now?” he asked plaintively.
“He's coming here tonight.”
“Who is?”
“Luke.” She threw back the soft coppery sheet and climbed out of bed. “He's coming to see us.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard his voice. You know, what you fondly refer to as that semi-mystical twin thing?”
“Well—he's not ringing the doorbell yet,” Han said hopefully. “It'll take him a while to get here.”
Leia seemed not to hear him. “It's about time. All I have to do is tell him about the way the kids were today—that'll give him the whole catalog of problems.”
“Are you sure that's why he's coming?”
“He said he needed to talk to me about family matters.”
“I dunno, Leia—the kids aren't the only family you two have,” he said, trying to dislodge her from her certainty without revealing where Luke was living. “Isn't it more likely to be something about your father?”
“Why do you say that?”
“I kind of got the impression he's still having trouble with some of that.”
“What? No, that's silly,” Leia said dismissively. “Why should he feel guilty about what Father did under the control of the Emperor and the dark side? Luke forgave Father at Endor. You were there—you saw.”
Han frowned. “Well—maybe it didn't turn out to be that simple for Luke. After all, a few billion people around the galaxy are still pretty unhappy with dear old Dad.”
“You don't have to remind me about that,” said Leia, shrugging into a white robe and tying the sash in a bow. “But I'm the one who has to deal with it, not Luke. I'm the one who gets accused and screamed at and threatened, not Luke. And I'm handling it.”
As she was speaking, she moved toward the bedroom door. When she reached it, she stopped and turned back toward Han, still sitting bare-chested on the bed in a jumble of sheets. “No, I'm sure you're wrong. That's not why Luke's coming here. He seemed—-excited. Almost happy.”
Han surrendered. “All right. Whatever you say. Where are you going?”
“I've been keeping notes on the children. I want to bring them up to date before Luke arrives.” She threw him a quick smile and disappeared through the doorway.
“I guess we're done here, then,” he said to himself.
Sighing, he climbed out of bed. “I've got a bad feeling about this. Oh, yes, I do.”
Even in the middle of the night, it wasn't possible for Luke Skywalker to make a quiet visit to the Chief of State of the New Republic. The entire area surrounding the president's residence was secured airspace and protected by its own local shield generator. That ruled out a convenient landing right on the grounds, or even close by.
Instead, Luke was directed to land his E-wing on a military pad at Eastport. Even before he could climb out of the cockpit, a sizable crowd of ground crew and other port workers gathered at the pad. But it was different from the kind of crowds Han still drew. Everyone hung back, even after Luke jumped down from the cockpit to the tarmac.
It was as though they couldn't pass up a chance to see Luke Skywalker but were too intimidated by his status to risk trying to shake his hand, clap him on the back, or even speak to him. He felt less a celebrity than a curiosity, more a dead legend than a living hero.
Luke wished they would all just go away. He had no interest in being celebrity or curiosity, legend or hero.
“Security Protocol One, Artee,” he said. As the E-wing's canopy and engine intake covers closed, Luke strode toward the airspeeder waiting for him just outside the landing circle. The crowd parted for him in silence.
But their excitement buffeted him, and their ambivalence tore at him.
He heard them whispering to each other, read their faces, and he filled in the rest.
Children—you'll never guess who I saw at the port tonight--He's here?
What did he say? How did he seem?
Where did he go? I wonder what it means.
The airspeeder was a standard government model, with a speed governor, an altitude limiter, and a pilot droid at the controls. To Luke, it was as welcome a sight as an escape pod on a doomed ship.
“President's residence, north entrance,” Luke said. He seemed so serious—So mysterious--He floated to the ground like a leaf—He was as close to me as I am to you—He smiled at me--
“I never thought I'd have a chance to meet him—You can tell just looking at him that he's a Jedi--You can tell just looking at him what he's been through-- Luke closed his eyes in relief as the airspeeder took flight.
While they were waiting for Luke, Han had lingered in the front rooms, thinking that he might be able to get to his friend first and warn him what his sister was expecting. But when the signal from the north gatehouse finally came, Leia was past Han and out the door before he knew it.
“Let him in,” Han told the gate guard resignedly, and hurried after his wife.
He caught up just as Leia and Luke met on the north garden trail.
“Leia,” Luke said with a warm smile, and they embraced.
“I knew you'd come,” Leia said, kissing him on the cheek and taking his arm. “I knew you'd change your mind. I can't tell you how glad I am to see you. How long can you stay?”
“We have some work to do together,” Luke said.
“I don't know how long it will take. And then I have some things to tell you. Hello, Han.” Luke clapped the taller man on the back with his free hand. “It's good to see you again.”
“You don't know the half of it, kid,” Han said wryly.
“Come on—let's go inside,” Leia said. “Did they make you leave your bag at the gatehouse? That's so foolish of them--”I didn't bring a bag,” Luke said. “I didn't plan on staying. But if it's too late for you, I can pass the night out here, and we can work in t
he morning. I've always liked these gardens.”
Leia stopped, turning toward Luke and frowning.
“I think I've missed something here, she said. “The children are sleeping—at last—so we couldn't start work until morning anyway. But I'm sure it's going to take days, more likely weeks, to make any progress.”
“Leia. I haven't come to train the children. Didn't Han tell you my feelings on that?”
“I told her,” Han said.
“Han told me you said it was my problem,” Leia said. “And that was so unlike you that I was sure he'd gotten it wrong.”
Luke shook his head. “It suffers a bit for being condensed, but I suppose the kernel is still there,” he said. “Leia, there's nothing I can do right now that won't make your lives and theirs harder in the long run. I've meditated on this for a long time. I'm sure this is the right decision.”
“Then—you came here because you want something? Not because we need help?”
“I'm here because I may have some new information about our mother.”
Han was startled by Luke's words, but, so far as he could see, Leia's expression didn't waver or soften in the slightest. “What new information?” she asked. “Where does it come from?”
“I don't want to tell you yet,” Luke said. “I'm hoping that you'll let me probe your mind again first. I have an idea what to look for now.”
Her body language foretold her answer. She held herself back from him, arms wrapped around herself, her mouth hard, her eyes darting, angry.
“No,” she said. “Go back to wherever you came from.” She turned abruptly and started back toward the residence.
“Leia—” Han said, reaching for her as she neared where he stood.
She eluded his touch with a twist and a sidestep.
“And you, if you take his side, you can go with him.”
“Leia—” Han's tone was plaintive now, and it had no effect. In moments, the two men were alone on the path.
“I thought I was just out of practice flying,” Luke said with a sigh.
“For what it's worth, kid, she had kind of a hard day,” Han said. “Leia's been negotiating with the same guy for a month now, and it's starting to drive her nuts. And I don't know how they do it, but the twins seem to know when she's not up to dealing with them, and really push the limits.”
Star Wars - Black Fleet Crisis 1 - Before the Storm Page 11