Though the Star Wars Universe and many of it's characters are borrowed (and
properties of George Lucas and Lucasfilm LTD.); the worlds of Ansath,
Hapha, Halgard, their peoples and anything pertaining to the Scrolls of
Kayan are my creations.
---
This story takes place shortly after the novel Planet Of Twilight
---
This story was written in late 1998 and early 1999 then posted on in July of 2000. I am re-editing it to post in chapter format. This may take some time because I have a small child to take care of that takes priority over any story. Those of you currently waiting for installments of my other stories will just have to be patient.
---
The Last Defender
By Lyda Mae (RavenDove) Huff
Chapter One: X-wing Down
---
Luke Skywalker drifted on the fringes of the Ansath system as he sat in the cockpit of his X-wing. He had stopped to make a course correction, on his way back from Halgard, where according to rumor there was a Force strong child. The rumors had born truth. A seven-year-old Gindin girl named Engrina. Too young for the Jedi Academy, but she had the potential.
He would make his way back to Yavin via Coruscant. He hadn't seen Leia and Han for some time, and his sister had suggested he stop by when he called from Halgard. He hoped she wasn't luring him to some official function, her being Chief of State and all. Maybe not likely, but he wouldn't put it past her.
Artoo chirped from his socket in the back of the X-wing. Luke looked at the translator screen; shuttle heading in on an erratic course.
He checked his sensors; not only was it heading in system, it was heading straight for him. Luke grabbed the controls, quickly maneuvering out of the shuttles way. The shuttle's course shifted as well; it was rolls and loops. Luke tried to move further out of the shuttles way, but its course shifted in all directions; as if the pilot wasn't paying attention to what was around him.
His nava-computer wasn't ready to make the jump, and this crazy pilot was forcing him closer to Ansath every minute. Suddenly the shuttle made a dive straight for him; he couldn't evade. The impact ripped off his port stabilizer, and through the trademark split wing of the fighter. Luke was spiraling out of control; he tried to use his repulsers too slow his decent into Ansath's atmosphere, but they were frozen. There was nothing to do now but brace himself for the inevitable impact.
Luke's mind raced, trying to find options, "Artoo I need to get my repulsers working."
---
Martina saw a light streak through the forest sky. It was near; the ground trembled from the impact, and the noise could be heard for miles she was certain. She and her sisters would still be the only ones to hear it. She picked up the hem of her skirt and hurried to whatever had crashed.
Up ahead in a fairly large clearing that had suddenly become larger, an X-wing having come to a very ungraceful landing. The smoking craft had its left wing ripped off, and the right side of its nose embedded into a half uprooted elder binkoni tree. This was not going to be pretty.
She reached out with her mind. There was life in the downed fighter. She called out with her soul, sisters we are needed.
Martina set down the basket she had slung over her shoulder and dropped the hood of her earth colored cloak as she approached the crash, revealing hair that was redder than red, and clashed with her lavender eyes. The droid in the fighter's socket beeped at her. "It's all right little one. Can you help me get the canopy open? Your master is hurt, and I need to get him out of there if I'm going to help him" she reasoned with the droid.
Artoo manipulated the controls in his socket, and was rewarded with a pop as the canopy lifted a little. Martina reached out with her mind, and lifted the canopy all the way up, then leaned a log against the cockpit. "This would be so much easer if reentry didn't cause heat." Martina said as she climbed up the log. Artoo chirped a concurrence.
Martina leaned over the man in the cockpit. He was handsome, despite old scars on the right side of his face. His eyes fluttered open. "Hello" Martina greeted the blue eyes.
"Hi" Luke said back, just a little embarrassed, staring into the lush, lavender eyes, with their large irises, and keyhole shaped pupils. She was an Aran beyond all doubt, one of Ansath's native race. She was fair to look on, and strange somehow, her age he could not determine.
Two figures, wearing Aran cloaks like Martina's, made their way into the clearing. One wore breeches instead of a skirt, and had several neat braids, of strawberry blond hair, looping in on each other, instead of lose, and free like her sisters. The other one had blue, blue hair and called out "What happened Martina?"
"Nothing much Enora, just a New Republic pilot crashed in our back yard." she shot back. "Fenice, his legs are trapped. Can you cut him free?"
The woman in breeches nodded with quiet reserve as she dropped her cloak on the ground. Fenice made a calculated leap landing on the exposed portion of the nose. The fighter tottered ever so slightly. With the flash of a blue saber blade and a limited skill she cut away the cockpit controls and part of the tree. She took a flip off the fighter's nose and pulled the cut pieces safely to the ground with a thought.
"We'll need a splint," Martina looked back at the pilot, expertly assessing his injuries. "We'll also need a stretcher, and a travoice. Enora, help her gather the poles."
A purple haired woman came from the other side of the clearing. "How bad Martina?" the woman called out.
"Compound fracture of the right tibia. I'll need to get him out of the fighter to stop the bleeding." Martina faced her sister.
The purple haired woman tested the side of the craft for heat. "Still a little warm."
Martina took off her cloak laying it across the metal where she was. "Lay your cloak on the ground Onaia; then if you lift I'll steer."
"Sounds like a plan." Onaia said, untying her cloak.
Luke found himself in the air, with this stranger guiding him to the ground. "Force users?" he asked, wondering if he'd hit his head a little hard. He could see his right shinbone sticking out at an odd angle through his boot. He really wasn't in pain. It felt unreal. I must be in shock he realized.
Martina laid him on Onaia's cloak, and pulled a tool from her belt too cut off his flight suit. "Yes," she pointed to the lightsaber on his belt, "We're not the only ones." Martina set to work.
Onaia spoke, "We are Tien'kal Healers like our mother was."
"Tien'kal," he wondered aloud, "I've never heard of that before."
Martina looked up from his leg, "I'm not surprised. This is going to hurt." At that comment Onaia held him down, and Martina set the bone.
Now he felt the pain, it took all Luke had not to scream. "Thanks for the warning."
Martina took her cloak from the X-wing, and tor a strip from the hood, then from her basket she took some roots, and crushing then between some nearby rocks began making a compress around the wound. "Gana root," she explained as she applied it, "a disinfectant, and it will help the bleeding stop. Tien'kal is an Aras word meaning Force tied. You on the other hand are a Jedi."
"How do you know that?" Luke asked.
"Three clues, Force presence, lightsaber, and human." Martina smiled at him sarcastically.
"Not all Jedi are human." Luke defended.
"True, but all humans that are Force tied can choose to become Jedi, and that affects their Force presence."
"My name is Luke Skywalker." He commented.
"Jedi Master Luke Skywalker," Martina chuckled. "I'm Martina," She indicated herself. "This is my triplet Onaia," she indicated her purple haired sister. Then seeing her other sisters arrive she pointed to each in turn. "The blue haired one is my triplet Enora, and the other one is our little sister Fenice."
"And that is R2D2." Luke pointed to his Astromech friend.
The little droid beeped from his socket.
"Don't worry little one. We haven't forgotten you." Martina said reaching out with the Force, while Onaia, and Enora splinted Luke's leg.
Artoo screeched as he drifted through the air, and didn't stop till he landed next to Luke.
Martina and Onaia rigged a stretcher from a cloak, and two poles, while Enora, and Fenice tied Artoo into a travoice. The sisters made quick work of getting Luke, and Artoo ready to travel, Martina saw to that.
"It will be a while before we reach the homestead Luke, the trip will be easiest on you if you can go into a healing trace." Martina said laying another of their cloaks over him. "Things have no doubt happened fast even for a Jedi Master."
"You know quite a bit about Jedi." He looked up at her. "By the way, thank you. Contrary to popular belief, Jedi Masters are not invincible." He went into the healing trance, and the sisters began the task of carrying their burdens home.
They made their way through the binkoni forest with expert care, ever watchful of roots that can grab the feet of one who made their way too quickly. After well over an hour they reached a home that was built into the side of a hill. It was a beautiful wood exterior, with a mix of both tradition, and tech.
---
Leia stood looking over the buildings of Imperial City. Coruscant, the world that's lower levels never saw daylight, she thought. She was a beautiful sight in her long white gown, with her long hair in a single braid.
The Haphanan Ambassador Andok Kiben stood beside the New Republic Chief of State, waiting to resume her tour of the former Imperial palace. Kiben was a human of about sixty years of age, and in no hurry. "Pardon me for observing, but you seem preoccupied." Kiben said, as if he feared offense.
"An accurate observation." she said turning to face him. "I'm sorry Ambassador. It's my brother."
"Whatever could be the concern for Master Skywalker?" he asked.
"He should have arrived this morning, but here it is nearly sunset." she admitted.
"I see." Kiben pondered, as he scratched his beard. "I can understand the concern, but wouldn't you know if something had happened to him." The old ambassador said knowingly.
"Actually, I'm quite sure something has," she answered, "but I don't know what. Luke may be a Jedi Master, but he is not immortal."
"Perhaps we should finish the tour later," Kiben suggested, "after all, I'm not going anywhere till after the treaty is signed."
"The Matriarch's orders?" Leia asked with a smile.
"She said not to show my face back on Hapha if I failed." He said with a serious expression.
"Your Matriarch can see what New Republic membership would do for her people." Leia said, taking on a serious tone of her own.
"Ever the diplomat," he smiled sadly, "your adopted father taught you well."
"You knew Bail Organa?" she asked with surprise.
"I served as the Consulate to Alderaan when you were very little." Kiben admitted.
Leia looked at the kind faced old man, "I thought the name was familiar."
"At any rate my old bones have had a long day." He smiled, taking her hand and kissing it. "I'll see you at the banquet Princess."
---
Artoo sat patiently beside Luke's cot. The Jedi Master had lain in his healing trance for the better part of a day, since the Tein'kal healers had brought him here. Martina had been able to seal the wound, and help the bone start to knit, but the trance would do him more good than what she could offer because it came from within.
The little droid did not mind his vidual. He would have stayed at Luke's side, even if Martina hadn't suggested it. Artoo sensed his master shift in the bed. He was waking. The little Astromech hurried to find Martina.
The red headed Aran Healer was at work in the kitchen when Artoo found her.
Hearing the droid, she looked up, drying her hands on an apron she wore. "I'm coming little one." she said hurrying after the droid, and untying the apron, which she dropped on the counter.
The two of them found Luke wide awake, looking around the room. Martina sat in a carved wood chair at the cot's side. "Feeling better?" she asked the Jedi.
"Yes," he answered, "but where exactly am I? I know I'm on Ansath, and you are an Aran, but where is the nearest spaceport?"
"You are in my home, and the home of my sisters, that has belonged to my family since before Jedi were known to this world." she responded. " We are, the Southeastern edge of Santik'sa. Which is as close to a spaceport as you'll find on Ansath." She paused, "I'm sorry you couldn't crash on a better planet, but the Empire was never kind."
"What do you mean by that?" Luke asked already knowing the answer.
"After Endor they packed up everything they could of value, and left." Martina said sadly. "This after raping our world to build the Emperor's second precious Death Star, and killing children to do it."
Luke began to sit up, and Martina sprang to help him. "It must have been rough."
"My brother Eamar was not quite fourteen, Fenice took it harder than the rest, because he was her twin." Martina couldn't help but think of her brother, Luke looked so much like he might have. "Our father Damar died with him. Two years later, our mother Markiea was executed for helping Rebels. She never denied her Healer's calling."
"They died for what they believed in."
"Every one of them, and I respect that, but I still miss them." Martina said solemnly. "How is your leg?" she lifted up the leg of the lose pajama bottoms he was wearing. "I'll admit to using a tissue regenerator." she smiled. "It's not a bacta tank, but it comes in handy."
"It's still a little sore," he shook his head, "but I expected that."
"Not the first wound you've ever had." Martina said, examining the wound with a scanner she'd pulled out of her pocket. The bone had reached the fourth stage of heeling where the fibrocartilage was broken down around the new bone. If left to heel on it's own, a bone would reach this stage in about six weeks. Thanks to the technology available, and the Jedi heeling trance it had taken less then a day. "Certainly not the last."
"You're quite adept with that to be just a Force healer." Luke joked.
"Tools to do the job quicker, and better." she looked up at him. "What is a lightsaber if not a tool, all be it a tool of defense."
"A Quick mind is then the best tool of all." Luke complimented.
"No, I've just had this conversation before." Martina answered honestly.
"Been at this a while?" he asked.
"No, only since I was born." Martina said, and putting the scanner back in her pocket, she offered her hand to Luke. "Shall we see if it bares weight?"
He grasped the offered hand, "I can't think of a better time." Luke made it uneasily to his feet, and took a few cautious steps.
"Go easy on it for a few days, and it'll be good as new." Martina smiled to her patient. "There's a washroom through there if you like." Martina pointed at a door. "Fenice got your personal case from the wreck." she pulled it from a storage chest. "And you'll be glad to know this is safe" she said handing him his lightsaber. "I must finish preparing the evening meal. Your little friend can lead you to the common room, and I think you deserve fair warning that you won't be the only guest to dinner."
"Thanks again, for everything." Luke said honestly.
Martina laughed, "You're welcome, but I'd do the same for anyone." At this she left the room.
---
Luke had needed the shower, and even now his stomach growled at the smell coming from the kitchen. He had put his lightsaber in Artoo's secret compartment for safe keeping, figuring it would be rude to wear it to the dinner table. He'd been very lucky to land where he had, and didn't care to insult his hosts. He'd dressed in black tunic, and trousers from his case; the clothes he'd been wearing had been ruined, and he wondered what he was going to do for boots, since Martina had to cut his right one off along with his flight suit.
He followed Artoo to the common room, noticing the change from stone to wooden walls. It was very cosy, and in some ways reminded him of his uncle Owen and aunt Beru's home on Tatooine. He reached the common room as the front door opened admitting Fenice, and a man with gray-greenish hair, that looked to be the same age as she was.
"Fenice, right?" he said as the woman hung up her brown cloak. He could see now she wore brown knee breeches, and high black boots, with a simple white blouse, and mauve vest, offsetting her brilliant green Aran eyes. At her side she carried a lightsaber not unlike his own.
"Yes," she said pulling off her boots, "and this is Terick a mechanic and my honorary triplet."
Terick stepped forward, offering his hand. "It's an honor to meet you Master Skywalker." The mechanic was obviously flustered, and started to turn red.
Luke grasped Terick's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, and please, call me Luke." He said, looking into the man's watery blue eyes. Terick was obviously suffering from hero worship.
The handshake went on for a moment too long, at which point Fenice tapped on Terick's shoulder. He looked at her dumb founded. "I think he'll be needing his hand back Terick." she pointed out.
Terick turned to Luke releasing the Jedi's hand. "Sorry, I just never hoped to meet you."
"At any rate, Terick had a look at your fighter." Fenice folded her arms across her chest.
Terick winced at her words. "Oh, the X-wing," he turned away. "I'm afraid that it's a loss."
Fenice took on a more open stance. "We pulled the main flight computer. Terick may be able to find out what caused the crash."
"I can already rule out pilot error on your part," the mechanic spoke with confidence, "Even if I didn't know who you are."
"It was a shuttle pilot practicing stunts in system." Luke said. "He forced me toward the atmosphere when I stopped to make a course correction. Then he dived toward me, and ripped off my port stabilizer and S-foil assembly."
"I could tell that had happened before reentry," Terick smiled, "scorching in the tares. And your repulsers were damaged, or you would have been able to control your decent."
"They froze, but I got them working just before I hit." the Jedi conceded.
"That explains why it was the nose of the craft and not you embedded in that binkoni tree." Fenice edged in from the side of the conversation.
Martina walked in from the kitchen. "I'm glad to see you found everything." she said to Luke. "Dinner is ready, if everyone will be seated, our other guest should be here shortly."
They all headed toward the table that was to one side of the common room. Enora, and Onaia came in from the kitchen carrying palters. Martina pulled out a chair for Luke, and then Fenice, set a bowl of stew in front of him. The smell was wonderful, and all but Martina dug in. Seeing this Luke followed suit, as hungry as he was, he was glad they didn't wait for the last guest to arrive.
No sooner had the food been laid on the table than, there was a knock at the door. Martina opened the door to a middle-aged man with burgundy hair, who carried a parcel under one arm. Martina helped him off with his cloak, and he set the parcel down to pull off his boots. For the first time Luke realized that no one was wearing shoes. The man picked up his parcel, and followed Martina back to the table.
"This is Gen." she said to Luke. "He's a farmer, and our nearest neighbor."
Gen shifted the package and held out his hand. "It's good to see you up and about. When I was here earlier, they were just bringing you in on that makeshift stretcher."
Luke took the offered hand. "Pleased to meet you Gen, any friend of theirs is a friend of mine."
Gen held up the package and pulled out a familiar pair of black boots. "Martina asked me to mend these." he shrugged. "It's not the best, but they'll do until you can get another pair."
Martina took the boots and set them by the door. "Gen's hobby is leather work." she commented.
Luke looked at the Aran farmer as the man took a seat across the table. "Thanks." He leaned back, "As a matter of fact I'd better thank you all. I'd be in quite a mess if not for all of you."
Onaia looked up at him from her stew. "It is our way, the way we were raised. To us not helping you, would be like slitting our own throats."
Terick grimaced, "I wouldn't put it that way at the dinner table Onaia, but she's right."
"Aran beliefs have always been that life is sacred, and that when someone is in need, they must be helped, but if one would take away life or freedom for another being, they must be stopped at all means." Fenice interjected.
"A very powerful belief, and one that I share." Luke admitted.
There was a long moment of silence, before Martina spoke. "Important, yes," she admitted, "but too somber for dinner." The healer smiled. "How do you like the annabei stew Luke?"
"It's delicious." Luke admitted, glad to help change the subject. "I've been meaning to ask if you have a comm-system." he said, taking a chance to look closer at his hosts. Onaia had deep-blue eyes, and wore a simple skirt, blouse, and laced bodice. Martina and Enora wore the same, all in bright colors. What struck him about Enora was that her eyes were as red as Martina's hair, and all three triplets wore silver medallions. Gen's eyes were a pale green and both Terick and Gen wore breeches and shirts like Fenice's, though without the vest. Both men also wore their hair long, but tied back neatly.
Gen responded, "The nearest comm-system capable of reaching out of the system is by the landing pads in the center of town."
"Uben wont be in until tomorrow morning." Enora commented between bites.
Gen nodded, "I could take you there tomorrow, if you don't mind riding in a beat up V-35."
"Sounds like fun. I haven't rode in a V-35 in years." Luke chuckled.
---
This story takes place shortly after the novel Planet Of Twilight
---
This story was written in late 1998 and early 1999 then posted on in July of 2000. I am re-editing it to post in chapter format. This may take some time because I have a small child to take care of that takes priority over any story. Those of you currently waiting for installments of my other stories will just have to be patient.
---
The Last Defender
By Lyda Mae (RavenDove) Huff
Chapter One: X-wing Down
---
Luke Skywalker drifted on the fringes of the Ansath system as he sat in the cockpit of his X-wing. He had stopped to make a course correction, on his way back from Halgard, where according to rumor there was a Force strong child. The rumors had born truth. A seven-year-old Gindin girl named Engrina. Too young for the Jedi Academy, but she had the potential.
He would make his way back to Yavin via Coruscant. He hadn't seen Leia and Han for some time, and his sister had suggested he stop by when he called from Halgard. He hoped she wasn't luring him to some official function, her being Chief of State and all. Maybe not likely, but he wouldn't put it past her.
Artoo chirped from his socket in the back of the X-wing. Luke looked at the translator screen; shuttle heading in on an erratic course.
He checked his sensors; not only was it heading in system, it was heading straight for him. Luke grabbed the controls, quickly maneuvering out of the shuttles way. The shuttle's course shifted as well; it was rolls and loops. Luke tried to move further out of the shuttles way, but its course shifted in all directions; as if the pilot wasn't paying attention to what was around him.
His nava-computer wasn't ready to make the jump, and this crazy pilot was forcing him closer to Ansath every minute. Suddenly the shuttle made a dive straight for him; he couldn't evade. The impact ripped off his port stabilizer, and through the trademark split wing of the fighter. Luke was spiraling out of control; he tried to use his repulsers too slow his decent into Ansath's atmosphere, but they were frozen. There was nothing to do now but brace himself for the inevitable impact.
Luke's mind raced, trying to find options, "Artoo I need to get my repulsers working."
---
Martina saw a light streak through the forest sky. It was near; the ground trembled from the impact, and the noise could be heard for miles she was certain. She and her sisters would still be the only ones to hear it. She picked up the hem of her skirt and hurried to whatever had crashed.
Up ahead in a fairly large clearing that had suddenly become larger, an X-wing having come to a very ungraceful landing. The smoking craft had its left wing ripped off, and the right side of its nose embedded into a half uprooted elder binkoni tree. This was not going to be pretty.
She reached out with her mind. There was life in the downed fighter. She called out with her soul, sisters we are needed.
Martina set down the basket she had slung over her shoulder and dropped the hood of her earth colored cloak as she approached the crash, revealing hair that was redder than red, and clashed with her lavender eyes. The droid in the fighter's socket beeped at her. "It's all right little one. Can you help me get the canopy open? Your master is hurt, and I need to get him out of there if I'm going to help him" she reasoned with the droid.
Artoo manipulated the controls in his socket, and was rewarded with a pop as the canopy lifted a little. Martina reached out with her mind, and lifted the canopy all the way up, then leaned a log against the cockpit. "This would be so much easer if reentry didn't cause heat." Martina said as she climbed up the log. Artoo chirped a concurrence.
Martina leaned over the man in the cockpit. He was handsome, despite old scars on the right side of his face. His eyes fluttered open. "Hello" Martina greeted the blue eyes.
"Hi" Luke said back, just a little embarrassed, staring into the lush, lavender eyes, with their large irises, and keyhole shaped pupils. She was an Aran beyond all doubt, one of Ansath's native race. She was fair to look on, and strange somehow, her age he could not determine.
Two figures, wearing Aran cloaks like Martina's, made their way into the clearing. One wore breeches instead of a skirt, and had several neat braids, of strawberry blond hair, looping in on each other, instead of lose, and free like her sisters. The other one had blue, blue hair and called out "What happened Martina?"
"Nothing much Enora, just a New Republic pilot crashed in our back yard." she shot back. "Fenice, his legs are trapped. Can you cut him free?"
The woman in breeches nodded with quiet reserve as she dropped her cloak on the ground. Fenice made a calculated leap landing on the exposed portion of the nose. The fighter tottered ever so slightly. With the flash of a blue saber blade and a limited skill she cut away the cockpit controls and part of the tree. She took a flip off the fighter's nose and pulled the cut pieces safely to the ground with a thought.
"We'll need a splint," Martina looked back at the pilot, expertly assessing his injuries. "We'll also need a stretcher, and a travoice. Enora, help her gather the poles."
A purple haired woman came from the other side of the clearing. "How bad Martina?" the woman called out.
"Compound fracture of the right tibia. I'll need to get him out of the fighter to stop the bleeding." Martina faced her sister.
The purple haired woman tested the side of the craft for heat. "Still a little warm."
Martina took off her cloak laying it across the metal where she was. "Lay your cloak on the ground Onaia; then if you lift I'll steer."
"Sounds like a plan." Onaia said, untying her cloak.
Luke found himself in the air, with this stranger guiding him to the ground. "Force users?" he asked, wondering if he'd hit his head a little hard. He could see his right shinbone sticking out at an odd angle through his boot. He really wasn't in pain. It felt unreal. I must be in shock he realized.
Martina laid him on Onaia's cloak, and pulled a tool from her belt too cut off his flight suit. "Yes," she pointed to the lightsaber on his belt, "We're not the only ones." Martina set to work.
Onaia spoke, "We are Tien'kal Healers like our mother was."
"Tien'kal," he wondered aloud, "I've never heard of that before."
Martina looked up from his leg, "I'm not surprised. This is going to hurt." At that comment Onaia held him down, and Martina set the bone.
Now he felt the pain, it took all Luke had not to scream. "Thanks for the warning."
Martina took her cloak from the X-wing, and tor a strip from the hood, then from her basket she took some roots, and crushing then between some nearby rocks began making a compress around the wound. "Gana root," she explained as she applied it, "a disinfectant, and it will help the bleeding stop. Tien'kal is an Aras word meaning Force tied. You on the other hand are a Jedi."
"How do you know that?" Luke asked.
"Three clues, Force presence, lightsaber, and human." Martina smiled at him sarcastically.
"Not all Jedi are human." Luke defended.
"True, but all humans that are Force tied can choose to become Jedi, and that affects their Force presence."
"My name is Luke Skywalker." He commented.
"Jedi Master Luke Skywalker," Martina chuckled. "I'm Martina," She indicated herself. "This is my triplet Onaia," she indicated her purple haired sister. Then seeing her other sisters arrive she pointed to each in turn. "The blue haired one is my triplet Enora, and the other one is our little sister Fenice."
"And that is R2D2." Luke pointed to his Astromech friend.
The little droid beeped from his socket.
"Don't worry little one. We haven't forgotten you." Martina said reaching out with the Force, while Onaia, and Enora splinted Luke's leg.
Artoo screeched as he drifted through the air, and didn't stop till he landed next to Luke.
Martina and Onaia rigged a stretcher from a cloak, and two poles, while Enora, and Fenice tied Artoo into a travoice. The sisters made quick work of getting Luke, and Artoo ready to travel, Martina saw to that.
"It will be a while before we reach the homestead Luke, the trip will be easiest on you if you can go into a healing trace." Martina said laying another of their cloaks over him. "Things have no doubt happened fast even for a Jedi Master."
"You know quite a bit about Jedi." He looked up at her. "By the way, thank you. Contrary to popular belief, Jedi Masters are not invincible." He went into the healing trance, and the sisters began the task of carrying their burdens home.
They made their way through the binkoni forest with expert care, ever watchful of roots that can grab the feet of one who made their way too quickly. After well over an hour they reached a home that was built into the side of a hill. It was a beautiful wood exterior, with a mix of both tradition, and tech.
---
Leia stood looking over the buildings of Imperial City. Coruscant, the world that's lower levels never saw daylight, she thought. She was a beautiful sight in her long white gown, with her long hair in a single braid.
The Haphanan Ambassador Andok Kiben stood beside the New Republic Chief of State, waiting to resume her tour of the former Imperial palace. Kiben was a human of about sixty years of age, and in no hurry. "Pardon me for observing, but you seem preoccupied." Kiben said, as if he feared offense.
"An accurate observation." she said turning to face him. "I'm sorry Ambassador. It's my brother."
"Whatever could be the concern for Master Skywalker?" he asked.
"He should have arrived this morning, but here it is nearly sunset." she admitted.
"I see." Kiben pondered, as he scratched his beard. "I can understand the concern, but wouldn't you know if something had happened to him." The old ambassador said knowingly.
"Actually, I'm quite sure something has," she answered, "but I don't know what. Luke may be a Jedi Master, but he is not immortal."
"Perhaps we should finish the tour later," Kiben suggested, "after all, I'm not going anywhere till after the treaty is signed."
"The Matriarch's orders?" Leia asked with a smile.
"She said not to show my face back on Hapha if I failed." He said with a serious expression.
"Your Matriarch can see what New Republic membership would do for her people." Leia said, taking on a serious tone of her own.
"Ever the diplomat," he smiled sadly, "your adopted father taught you well."
"You knew Bail Organa?" she asked with surprise.
"I served as the Consulate to Alderaan when you were very little." Kiben admitted.
Leia looked at the kind faced old man, "I thought the name was familiar."
"At any rate my old bones have had a long day." He smiled, taking her hand and kissing it. "I'll see you at the banquet Princess."
---
Artoo sat patiently beside Luke's cot. The Jedi Master had lain in his healing trance for the better part of a day, since the Tein'kal healers had brought him here. Martina had been able to seal the wound, and help the bone start to knit, but the trance would do him more good than what she could offer because it came from within.
The little droid did not mind his vidual. He would have stayed at Luke's side, even if Martina hadn't suggested it. Artoo sensed his master shift in the bed. He was waking. The little Astromech hurried to find Martina.
The red headed Aran Healer was at work in the kitchen when Artoo found her.
Hearing the droid, she looked up, drying her hands on an apron she wore. "I'm coming little one." she said hurrying after the droid, and untying the apron, which she dropped on the counter.
The two of them found Luke wide awake, looking around the room. Martina sat in a carved wood chair at the cot's side. "Feeling better?" she asked the Jedi.
"Yes," he answered, "but where exactly am I? I know I'm on Ansath, and you are an Aran, but where is the nearest spaceport?"
"You are in my home, and the home of my sisters, that has belonged to my family since before Jedi were known to this world." she responded. " We are, the Southeastern edge of Santik'sa. Which is as close to a spaceport as you'll find on Ansath." She paused, "I'm sorry you couldn't crash on a better planet, but the Empire was never kind."
"What do you mean by that?" Luke asked already knowing the answer.
"After Endor they packed up everything they could of value, and left." Martina said sadly. "This after raping our world to build the Emperor's second precious Death Star, and killing children to do it."
Luke began to sit up, and Martina sprang to help him. "It must have been rough."
"My brother Eamar was not quite fourteen, Fenice took it harder than the rest, because he was her twin." Martina couldn't help but think of her brother, Luke looked so much like he might have. "Our father Damar died with him. Two years later, our mother Markiea was executed for helping Rebels. She never denied her Healer's calling."
"They died for what they believed in."
"Every one of them, and I respect that, but I still miss them." Martina said solemnly. "How is your leg?" she lifted up the leg of the lose pajama bottoms he was wearing. "I'll admit to using a tissue regenerator." she smiled. "It's not a bacta tank, but it comes in handy."
"It's still a little sore," he shook his head, "but I expected that."
"Not the first wound you've ever had." Martina said, examining the wound with a scanner she'd pulled out of her pocket. The bone had reached the fourth stage of heeling where the fibrocartilage was broken down around the new bone. If left to heel on it's own, a bone would reach this stage in about six weeks. Thanks to the technology available, and the Jedi heeling trance it had taken less then a day. "Certainly not the last."
"You're quite adept with that to be just a Force healer." Luke joked.
"Tools to do the job quicker, and better." she looked up at him. "What is a lightsaber if not a tool, all be it a tool of defense."
"A Quick mind is then the best tool of all." Luke complimented.
"No, I've just had this conversation before." Martina answered honestly.
"Been at this a while?" he asked.
"No, only since I was born." Martina said, and putting the scanner back in her pocket, she offered her hand to Luke. "Shall we see if it bares weight?"
He grasped the offered hand, "I can't think of a better time." Luke made it uneasily to his feet, and took a few cautious steps.
"Go easy on it for a few days, and it'll be good as new." Martina smiled to her patient. "There's a washroom through there if you like." Martina pointed at a door. "Fenice got your personal case from the wreck." she pulled it from a storage chest. "And you'll be glad to know this is safe" she said handing him his lightsaber. "I must finish preparing the evening meal. Your little friend can lead you to the common room, and I think you deserve fair warning that you won't be the only guest to dinner."
"Thanks again, for everything." Luke said honestly.
Martina laughed, "You're welcome, but I'd do the same for anyone." At this she left the room.
---
Luke had needed the shower, and even now his stomach growled at the smell coming from the kitchen. He had put his lightsaber in Artoo's secret compartment for safe keeping, figuring it would be rude to wear it to the dinner table. He'd been very lucky to land where he had, and didn't care to insult his hosts. He'd dressed in black tunic, and trousers from his case; the clothes he'd been wearing had been ruined, and he wondered what he was going to do for boots, since Martina had to cut his right one off along with his flight suit.
He followed Artoo to the common room, noticing the change from stone to wooden walls. It was very cosy, and in some ways reminded him of his uncle Owen and aunt Beru's home on Tatooine. He reached the common room as the front door opened admitting Fenice, and a man with gray-greenish hair, that looked to be the same age as she was.
"Fenice, right?" he said as the woman hung up her brown cloak. He could see now she wore brown knee breeches, and high black boots, with a simple white blouse, and mauve vest, offsetting her brilliant green Aran eyes. At her side she carried a lightsaber not unlike his own.
"Yes," she said pulling off her boots, "and this is Terick a mechanic and my honorary triplet."
Terick stepped forward, offering his hand. "It's an honor to meet you Master Skywalker." The mechanic was obviously flustered, and started to turn red.
Luke grasped Terick's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, and please, call me Luke." He said, looking into the man's watery blue eyes. Terick was obviously suffering from hero worship.
The handshake went on for a moment too long, at which point Fenice tapped on Terick's shoulder. He looked at her dumb founded. "I think he'll be needing his hand back Terick." she pointed out.
Terick turned to Luke releasing the Jedi's hand. "Sorry, I just never hoped to meet you."
"At any rate, Terick had a look at your fighter." Fenice folded her arms across her chest.
Terick winced at her words. "Oh, the X-wing," he turned away. "I'm afraid that it's a loss."
Fenice took on a more open stance. "We pulled the main flight computer. Terick may be able to find out what caused the crash."
"I can already rule out pilot error on your part," the mechanic spoke with confidence, "Even if I didn't know who you are."
"It was a shuttle pilot practicing stunts in system." Luke said. "He forced me toward the atmosphere when I stopped to make a course correction. Then he dived toward me, and ripped off my port stabilizer and S-foil assembly."
"I could tell that had happened before reentry," Terick smiled, "scorching in the tares. And your repulsers were damaged, or you would have been able to control your decent."
"They froze, but I got them working just before I hit." the Jedi conceded.
"That explains why it was the nose of the craft and not you embedded in that binkoni tree." Fenice edged in from the side of the conversation.
Martina walked in from the kitchen. "I'm glad to see you found everything." she said to Luke. "Dinner is ready, if everyone will be seated, our other guest should be here shortly."
They all headed toward the table that was to one side of the common room. Enora, and Onaia came in from the kitchen carrying palters. Martina pulled out a chair for Luke, and then Fenice, set a bowl of stew in front of him. The smell was wonderful, and all but Martina dug in. Seeing this Luke followed suit, as hungry as he was, he was glad they didn't wait for the last guest to arrive.
No sooner had the food been laid on the table than, there was a knock at the door. Martina opened the door to a middle-aged man with burgundy hair, who carried a parcel under one arm. Martina helped him off with his cloak, and he set the parcel down to pull off his boots. For the first time Luke realized that no one was wearing shoes. The man picked up his parcel, and followed Martina back to the table.
"This is Gen." she said to Luke. "He's a farmer, and our nearest neighbor."
Gen shifted the package and held out his hand. "It's good to see you up and about. When I was here earlier, they were just bringing you in on that makeshift stretcher."
Luke took the offered hand. "Pleased to meet you Gen, any friend of theirs is a friend of mine."
Gen held up the package and pulled out a familiar pair of black boots. "Martina asked me to mend these." he shrugged. "It's not the best, but they'll do until you can get another pair."
Martina took the boots and set them by the door. "Gen's hobby is leather work." she commented.
Luke looked at the Aran farmer as the man took a seat across the table. "Thanks." He leaned back, "As a matter of fact I'd better thank you all. I'd be in quite a mess if not for all of you."
Onaia looked up at him from her stew. "It is our way, the way we were raised. To us not helping you, would be like slitting our own throats."
Terick grimaced, "I wouldn't put it that way at the dinner table Onaia, but she's right."
"Aran beliefs have always been that life is sacred, and that when someone is in need, they must be helped, but if one would take away life or freedom for another being, they must be stopped at all means." Fenice interjected.
"A very powerful belief, and one that I share." Luke admitted.
There was a long moment of silence, before Martina spoke. "Important, yes," she admitted, "but too somber for dinner." The healer smiled. "How do you like the annabei stew Luke?"
"It's delicious." Luke admitted, glad to help change the subject. "I've been meaning to ask if you have a comm-system." he said, taking a chance to look closer at his hosts. Onaia had deep-blue eyes, and wore a simple skirt, blouse, and laced bodice. Martina and Enora wore the same, all in bright colors. What struck him about Enora was that her eyes were as red as Martina's hair, and all three triplets wore silver medallions. Gen's eyes were a pale green and both Terick and Gen wore breeches and shirts like Fenice's, though without the vest. Both men also wore their hair long, but tied back neatly.
Gen responded, "The nearest comm-system capable of reaching out of the system is by the landing pads in the center of town."
"Uben wont be in until tomorrow morning." Enora commented between bites.
Gen nodded, "I could take you there tomorrow, if you don't mind riding in a beat up V-35."
"Sounds like fun. I haven't rode in a V-35 in years." Luke chuckled.