Child Of Honor
Luke suddenly stopped as soon as he saw it. It was lying in one of the many boxes he was surrounded by. They were full of various paraphernalia and trinkets he collected over the years. They were stuffed in boxes and put away in storage. Mara had been after him since the end of the Vong War to get the storage cleaned out and separate the trash from the collectors items. He couldn't believe that this was in with these boxes. How long had it been since he had seen it last? How long was it since it was given to him? A lifetime ago. And for what? Being a hero? At that time, Luke Skywalker didn't know the price for heroism.
He definitely knew it now. The Myrkr mission had showed him the cost. Maybe all those years prior Luke didn't want to know. Perhaps it was the reason he stuck this inside a box as if denying the reason for him receiving it. Somehow he kept his naive farm boy charm by hiding it, forever keeping in his yearn for adventure as a boy on Tatooine. The pain of grief had changed him over the years.
Losing Chewie was heartbreaking. He died saving Anakin. How ironic was it that Anakin did the same for his fellow Jedi, including his own siblings. Maybe sacrificial heroism was contagious. Nobody could be blamed for Chewie's death. Yes, the Yuuzahn Vong made the Sernpidal moon come crashing down. Chewie had a choice. He chose to save the son of his life debt instead of escaping himself. That decision cost him his life. In turn, Anakin Solo had a choice to save his friends and family despite the fact that in doing so meant his death as well.
But it was Luke himself who put Anakin in that position to make that choice. His friends, family, and especially Mara tried to convince him that he wasn't to blame for Anakin's death. That was Anakin's choice, not Luke's.
"Daddy, what'cha doing?"
The voice of his seven-year-old son shook him out of his thoughts and he answered him with, "I'm going through some old stuff. Straightening out our storage room."
"Oh. Is it messy like my room?"
"No. Your room is a disaster area. This is, at least, controlled chaos."
Little Ben sat down and looked into the box in front of his father. It didn't take long for him to spot it. "Wow! That's pretty. Where did you get that?"
"I sort of won it."
"You did? What did you have to do to win that?"
Luke reflected absently as if he were talking to himself instead of his son. "I killed thousands of people."
"Thousands? That's a lot." He paused as he looked at it. "Would I have to kill that many people to win something like that?"
"I hope you don't, son."
"What kind of contest was it?"
"It wasn't a contest. It was war. Remember what we told you about war?"
"Uh huh. So, those people you killed were bad?"
"I wouldn't say bad or evil. They were men who tried to oppress their way of life on the galaxy."
"What's...a press?"
Luke smiled and replied, "It means they tried to force their ideals on the galaxy. They tried to be the highest power and wanted the galaxy to answer only to them. They killed many people in doing so. In fact, they were trying to destroy a whole planet and we went to stop them."
"Destroy a planet? Like what they did to Aunt Leia's home world with that big space station you told me about?"
"Exactly."
"But you stopped them. You destroyed the space station."
"Yes. With a little help from your Uncle Han."
"So, you killed the thousands who were on that station. But they were about to kill millions by blowing up a planet. So you won this by saving those millions of people. If you hadn't of killed the thousands of people then those millions of people would have died and the thousands of people would go on killing."
Luke choked up not from his son's simplistic view, but because he realized that he once thought as Ben did long ago. Did pain and grief change his own views that much over the years? He hoped Ben would never have to know the price for pain and grief. He answered him by saying, "Yes, you could say that."
He looked back down at the gold plated medal attached to the leather strap. He could close his eyes and remember that day of celebration after their victory. How beautiful was Leia that day? How uncomfortable was Han for receiving such an award. Chewie should have received one then as well. So should Anakin, posthumously. Here was his symbol of heroism lying in a box being treated like an ordinary trinket. It somehow lost its honor.
He reached in and grabbed the medal and suggested, "Tell you what, how about after I clean all of this up the two of us go out and find a case for this."
Ben's hazel eyes brightened. "Yes! That'll be great! And we can place it on that shelf in our family room and I can show it off to my friends when they come to visit and I can say my daddy won that. But we would have to find something that can protect it."
"I think a transparisteel case would protect it forever."
"You know, daddy, forever is a long, long time and time has a way of changing things."
"Yes, it does." Luke made a sarcastic scowl and replied, "You've been listening to your mother too much, haven't you, Mara Junior?"
"Daddy, I'm not Mara. Mommy is Mara."
"Yes, she is. And since she's away until tonight, why don't we both get a double ronto burger while we're out?"
"Yes! And a chocolate malt?"
"I suppose. I might even have one myself. But don't tell mommy."
"Yeah, she'll get mad."
"Well, I'll be a few more minutes here. Why don't you go and get cleaned up so we can go?"
Ben shot up to stand and as he darted out of the room he hastily said, "Ok! I'll wear one of my good shirts!" He disappeared around the corner.
Luke stared at the space that his son had just occupied seconds ago. He understood that the price for pain and grief was high. If it meant being given a son like Ben, that price was worth more honor than any piece of metal could hold. Luke couldn't help but smile.
The End