Disclaimer:
This is a work of original fan fiction based on
characters and situations created by George Lucas and
copyrighted to Lucasfilm, Ltd.. The intent of this
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trilogy of the 'Star Wars' saga, and is not intended
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Summary:
The Sith Lord glanced into the heart of the wounded
Rebel Commander to torture him with the truth of his
desire - a truth that held within it an intolerable
future. Luke had ventured into the labyrinth to
assail the beast, only to discover that he was,
himself, the beast.
Time-line: Rebellion, following the events described
in the movie, 'The Empire Strikes Back' (1980)
Rating: PG
Keywords: Luke, drama, Rebellion
* * *
GAZE of the ABYSS
(c) 2000, by: Lynne Freels
lynne@westies.com
(Read more of the author's fan fiction at:
http://www.westies.com/misc)
"Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster,
and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also
into you."
- Friedrich Nietzsche
"Ten score years ago, defeat the kingly foe
A wondrous dream came into being
Tame the trackless waste, no virgin land left chaste
All shining eyes, but never seeing
Beneath the noble birth
Between the proudest words
Behind the beauty, crack appear
Once, with heads held high
They sang out to the sky
Why do their shadows bow in fear? ...
The guns replace the plow, facades are tarnished now
The principles have been betrayed
The dream's gone stale, but still, let hope prevail
History's debt won't be repaid"
- 'Beneath, Between And Behind', Neil Peart & Alex
Lifeson
{Rush, "Fly by Night", 1975}
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PROLOGUE
Millennium Falcon, above the gas planet Bespin
I am your father.
I am your hate: of self, of circumstance, of things
that smother. I am your fear: of pain, of
repetition, of insanity. They know that who I am is
what you are. They can smell it on you. You reek of
the truth: a loathsome liability.
I am your father.
I am your weakness, and I will stalk you even as your
hair bleaches grey, and time carves your skin in
passing. I will not sleep, I will not erode, and I
will gorge on your interminable uncertainty.
I am you.
"Ben, why didn't you tell me?"
The beaten warrior flooded his mind with agony,
abruptly uncoupling the mental link with the monster,
and he plaited senseless to the floor, even as the
stars outside the cockpit window elongated into the
safety of hyperspace.
* * *
CHAPTER ONE: AUTUMN EQUINOX
Millennium Falcon, 384,000 kilometres from Alliance
Fleet
"I told you, we've got a medical emergency here,"
Princess Leia never took her eyes off the damp grey
of Luke Skywalker's face, skin slack with vacuous
relief. A breath with the plea, 'Aunt Beru', barely
passed through the parted, ashen lips, and his half-
lidded eyes glazed over.
Exhausted and still sore from her recent ordeal,
Leia's impatience was blatantly evident. "Unless the
clearance code has been changed since the Hoth
evacuation," she blustered, "you damned well better
allow passage, now!"
A single shot was fired from Blue Leader's X-Wing
fighter, whose squadron had halted the Falcon's
progress. The old freighter twitched from the blast
that singed her belly. In the pilot's chair, Lando
lifted an eyebrow at his Wookie co-pilot. "Nice
welcome," he said sarcastically. "First the Empire
tries to kill us, now the Rebellion decides to use us
for laser cannon practice. Maybe we should have
removed that universal target signal, after all."
"Millenium Falcon," Blue Leader's voice
interrupted,"you have been cleared to dock under our
escort. Do not deviate from this course or you will
be destroyed."
* * *
"How do you feel?"
In an empty surgical preparation room on one of the
Alliance's three Medical Frigates, Luke opened his
eyes and tried to remember the name of the man before
him, the same man who had pulled him into the
relative safety of the freighter beneath Bespin's
Cloud City. "Very tired," he admitted. "But my ribs
are almost healed. Also, this is weird, it feels
like I still have my right hand. I mean, I have the
sensation that my palm and fingers are burning. The
treatments are helping, though."
Lando Calrissian, former self-titled Baron
Administrator of Cloud City, pulled a chair up to
Luke's bedside. "No really," he said, his
deceptively casual manner hid an extraordinary
perceptiveness. "How do you feel?"
"In a way, I was hoping that you'd be satisfied with
that half of the answer." Simple no more, the young
man let his eyes fall to the tourniquet that still
encased the symbol of his mistake. "It's been a few
years since I was disciplined for doing something
stupid."
"I don't see how trying to save your friends deserves
punishment, let alone what happened to you in Cloud
City."
"But I didn't save them." Luke said softly. Raising
his head, he accidentally looked up and into the
deformed features of his reflection in the polished
metal of an indescript piece of medical equipment.
"You know, I never got much praise from my uncle when
I was growing up. I guess with everyone
congratulating me on that shot that blew the Death
Star --"
"YOU fired that shot?" Lando sat forward, reassessing
the youth. "Maker, that was a one in a million
chance!"
"Yeah, well listening to comments like that all the
time made me reckless." A few months ago, such
praise would have generated an abashed smile. Now,
Luke's face darkened with a frown. "I lost
perspective and started believing that I was more
than I was. In the moment that I stood facing Vader
before we fought, all I could think of was that I
could beat him. I'd beat him, and then people would
continue to like me. I'd beat him, and make him pay
for what he took from me. I'd beat him because I'm
young and invincible.
"I won't make those mistakes again," he resolved.
A tall woman, dressed in ankle length, abstemious
robes, entered the room. Luke had never met the
Alliance Leader in person before.
She inclined her head, acknowledging Lando.
"Administrator Calrissian, I am Mon Mothma, one of
the Alliance Leaders," she said. "I will need to
speak with you at some point within the next few
hours, if you would make time before you leave."
"Certainly," he agreed, smoothly. "How about over
dinner?"
"Administrator -"
"Call me Lando," he encouraged her with a smile. His
first impression of this Alliance Leader was one that
forewarned a distinct disadvantage for him if he
conversed in territory familiar to her.
"As you prefer. Lando, it is my habit to discuss
business matters without such distractions, but thank
you for offering. Now, I need to speak to the
Commander privately."
He inclined his head, still smiling. As a free
agent, he hoped that he would not have to unduly
concern himself with her intentions or motivations.
After all, she was no Darth Vader. Waving a
farewell to Luke, Lando left with a rustle of his
klis shirt.
As the partition slid shut, Mon Mothma turned to
address the youth. "Commander, the Princess
debriefed the Council on the events that occurred on
Bespin, and I will speak to Calrissian later about
this. First, though, I want to confirm Leia's
statements with yours, if you're well enough."
"I'd rather get this over with now. What do you want
to know."
Without preamble, Mon Mothma seated herself before
him. "First of all, will you explain your absence
between the Hoth Base evacuation and your encounter
with Darth Vader on Bespin?"
Unaccountably, Luke felt strongly that any revelation
of Yoda's existence would constitute a betrayal of an
assumed trust between the teacher and his student
and, more than that, would put the diminutive Jedi
Master in mortal jeopardy. He was undecided if this
belief originated from intuition or from a Force
enhanced premonition. For all he knew, Yoda had
placed this trigger in his mind. "I cannot," he
said, uncertain of the consequences of his refusal.
"I'm sorry."
"Then explain this to me: you fought against a
powerful Sith Lord, one who is credited with the
genocide of the Jedi Order, yet you lived with
comparatively little damage to show for it. Why?"
How now to vanquish the goulish shadow of his
father's failure, and his own? "He told me, at the
moment of my helplessness, that it was he was who was
responsible for my life." Still, there was an
irresistible vanity in the idea of a freed
conscience, released by the foundation of genetic
inevitability. Ego.
"Explain what you mean by that statement."
"Only that I underestimated his power. He can
destroy me at his leisure."
Something intangible within the Alliance Leader
solidified, although Luke could not detect any
outward change. "Then he does not consider you a
threat to the Empire?"
'You can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this.'
"Not to him, anyway."
"Commander, you do not help your situation." Her
tone gained aloofness. "It is in your best interest
to reveal everything that has happened to you in the
past several months."
Luke spread his arms in a submissive gesture. "I've
said all that I can say."
Mon Mothma stood, then. "Here is what I interpret
from both of the statements I've heard, thus far.
You will not reveal your whereabouts between Hoth and
Bespin because you did not make it through the
Imperial blockade and were taken prisoner. They
threatened, or brainwashed, or did something to you
to convert you into an Imperial Agent."
She removed the chair from the bedside, in an act of
objectification. "Since the Alliance is never in one
place for too long, the only way you could easily
infiltrate the Rebellion was through Leia, who was a
prisoner of the Empire at the time. Vader then
allowed her to escape, so that she could rescue you
and return you to the Fleet. You agreed to be beaten
and mutilated to make your return to us all the more
convincing."
Luke stared at her, incredulous. "How could you make
that stuff up? I am not an Imperial Spy!"
"Then what are you?" She countered.
'A loathsome liability.' "Confused. I've got a lot
to work out, but I'm no threat to the Alliance," he
answered honestly. "Besides, if I were a spy, I'd
put a tracer on the Falcon to lead the Imperial Fleet
here, not just send one guy in to spy for them."
Mon Mothma's expression hardened. "We blasted one off
the Falcon's keel before she was allowed to dock with
us. The Empire would hope that we thought that the
tracer was the only threatening cargo."
She paused at the edge of a decision. "Commander, I
know that you are very close to Princess Leia and,
therefore, may have more access to sensitive
information than others of similar rank. I need your
honest answer when I ask how much you know of our
manoeuvrings and future strategies."
Nervous and scared now, Luke stared at her, not
comprehending her motivations. "Let me rephrase the
question," she said. "Do you act as her confidant?"
"Yes, I do. She trusts me with sensitive
information, as you ought to." Suddenly, he realised
the absolute truth of what he had just stated. Leia
was his anchor; he knew that now. How could he be
his father's doppelganger, when her trust in him - in
his goodness - never faltered? At last, he saw the
nobility that lay at the quiet centre out of which he
should always act. It had not mutated at the touch of
Vader's revelation.
A sigh from the woman beside him brought his
attention back outward. She glanced over at the 2-1B
medical droid that rolled to a position next to
Luke's bed. "The patient requires rest," it said in
a soothing voice. "I kindly request that your visit
conclude, presently." Had it been coded for
emotions, Mon Mothma would have thought it was trying
to protect its charge.
"Very well," she acknowledged. "Luke, I have to meet
with the Council at 0400 hours about this situation.
I can only tell them what you told me. Many will
interpret your account in the same way I described to
you. Please reconsider your silence."
* * *
CHAPTER TWO: SPRING EQUINOX
Headquarters Frigate, Alliance Fleet
"And that eviscerated supplier is relatively close to
our current position. Our delay in leaving this area
may have jeapro -"
"What in the hell did you just do?!" A little figure
in white assailed Mon Mothma's office, like an
avenging squall.
The members of the interrupted meeting rose to
intercept the intruder. "No," the Alliance Leader
checked them. "It's alright. I need to address the
Princess's concerns. As agreed upon, the Fleet will
break up within the hour to stager-rendezvous at Fo
Chasaibh Nan Mamb."
As the door slid shut behind her, Leia closed in on
the other woman. "Luke was suppose to be discharged
and let off at the nearest port; so, why did you just
murder the pilot that destroyed the Death Star? You
just assassinated Rogue Leader, whose courage and
tactical manoeuvrings allowed the Alliance to escape
the Imperials on Hoth! Did you forget that you, and
billions of other people, owe him your lives?!"
Weary, Mon Mothma closed her eyes for a moment. When
she opened them again, she seemed imperfect, perhaps
frailer. "Princess Leia, under normal circumstances,
I would not debate you. But the time that we live in
now is far from normal. Our present circumstances
require extraordinary caution and demands overly much
of each of us."
She indicated a chair for Leia to sit in, but the
other remained standing, arms folded in front of her.
Sighing, Mothma continued, "If we are, indeed, the
last hope for the restoration of basic freedoms to
the peoples of this galaxy, who now suffer
unimaginable atrocities under the current
totalitarian rule, then we must at times be ruthless
ourselves. In the very least, we cannot afford to
take any chances."
Incredulous, Leia stared at her associate, trying to
discern the base of the platform she now stood on.
"'Be ruthless ourselves'? Are you actually listening
to what you're saying?"
"Yes, I am! It sounds as grating to me as it does to
you, but there is a definitive reality here that must
be faced, whether we like it or not." Mothma stood
and walked to the end of the room, staring inward.
After a few moments, she turned around. "Mister
Skywalker's Imperial collaboration was not disproved,
and the Alliance could not allow his knowledge of our
affairs and, more importantly, his demonstrated Force
abilities to fall into the hands of the Imperials."
Her voice did not modulate. "The decision was not an
easy one, as I like him on a personal level, but it
was a necessary tactical choice that, otherwise,
might have meant our destruction."
Leia sat down, noting Mothma's forced use of a
civilian title when speaking of Luke, and folded her
hands in her lap. "The only way we will win this
struggle is if we win the hearts and minds of
individuals. The only way to do that is through
example. You cannot compartmentalise your mind like
that, because you won't be able to change what is
inside you. If you can't do that, then you will not
be able to change what's around you."
Mon Mothma closed the distance between them to take
the Princess's rough hands in hers. Leia looked
uncomfortably down at the entwined fingers, but
allowed the touch to continue. "That's what I need,
sometimes; your idealism. I'm afraid that practical
matters have hardened my own heart, to a certain
extent. I often wonder how far such thoughts as you
expunge can be carried into the workings of this
Rebellion. It began as such, but should we allow
this wish for a political utopia to dictate our
actions now, even when we know that these actions
could mean the utter obliteration of the Alliance?"
The Princess, who had already suffered more than most
others in her short life, reversed the hold of her
encased hands as she stood, to grip the older woman's
shoulders in an act of circumspection. "Ultimately,
our success will depend on the strength of all
aspects of our strategy. What I want to make clear
is that if we choose not to act out of moral
integrity and personal example, then the misery and
perversion of the Empire will simply be replaced by
the misery and perversion of the restored Republic."
Leia held onto Mon Mothma in silence, hoping that her
words would ferment within the Alliance Leader. "I'm
sorry, Leia," Mothma said, her gentle voice
contrasting her words. "But to have allowed Skywalker
to live would have posed an unacceptable risk to the
freedom movement. Most of the Council, who endured
Palpetine's purges and the atrocities committed by
his Sith puppet, reluctantly agreed that the unusual
circumstances of Skywalker's Force abilities and his
prolonged, unaccounted absence, called for swift and
final action on our part."
Mothma's grip tightened in the only evidence of her
frustration. "We could not afford the very real
potential risk of another Sith, one with crippling
tactical knowledge. Skywalker, himself, said that he
would not be able to resist Vader."
Dropping her gaze as she dropped her hands, Leia
formally resigned her commission. "You may have just
eliminated our last, best hope," she said, and walked
away.
* * *
Shuttle Calliope Escape Pod, Adrift off Port Ithaka
Dazed from the impact caused by the shock waves of
Calliope's destruction, the escape pod's lone
passenger nevertheless had enough sense to shut down
all non-critical power, and seal the structure's main
debris-caused puncture wounds with aerogel.
Turning his attention next to the life support-
powered auto distress signal, the Jedi Learner
visualised its components, then, with a mental tug,
tore it apart. He hoped that the Alliance did not
pick up its signals for help, or the last thing he'd
see would be cannon fire from his own squadron.
The images and feelings he had purloined from the
Deck Captain turned out to be true. Had he not acted
on what he absorbed and stayed in the shuttle, he
would be dead now. The Alliance had betrayed him,
just as Ben had.
Luke had accounted for everything his panicked mind
could remember from General Dodonna's survival
courses. Now, as he finished patching the smaller
leaks in the hull, fear saw an opening in his defence
and rapidly rose to grapple with him.
Lonely and angry, he looked critically upon himself,
wondering what that futile wonderer did and why.
Thinking himself detached, madness approached as
these severed selves conversed in the void.
What did Ben and Yoda want from him? What fate
awaited him? What if his destiny was nothing more
than to die there, in a tiny coffin that once offered
him hope? What was the purpose of that conclusion?
What if there was no destiny, apart from whatever
fantasy he constructed?
"No," he said.
Why 'no'?
"Because I don't want to hear anymore."
Why?
"If I'm going to die, I don't want my last moments to
consist of regrets."
What do you regret?
"Stop it! Everything. I don't know, just leave me
alone!"
You regret that you wasted your time daydreaming,
when you should have been preparing.
"My uncle needed me, he said so himself! He said
that he needed my help until the next harvest. I
stayed because I had a duty, a responsibility, to
him."
Did you? Look closer. You had a much greater duty,
but you allowed your fear to stop you from performing
your responsibilities.
"I wasn't afraid! I begged my uncle to let me apply
to the Academy."
To which you knew he would forbid it, then argue
against it. Besides, you could have left the farm
whenever you wanted, but the pain, the destruction,
the death that you knew would partake in your life,
scared you into inaction.
"And who wouldn't be afraid of such things? Who
would want it?"
You had a duty, and your procrastination cost the
lives of millions.
"One person cannot change the outcome of the war."
Really? Do you truly believe that? Be honest, now.
It was not death that scared you; it was the
possibility that you'd enjoy the killing.
"I don't enjoy killing others! I do it to help
restore freedom to the oppressed."
Yes, and you still clutch frantically to that ideal;
but, in the middle of battle, how do you feel when
you destroy a target? That's a good, sanitary name
for your victim, isn't it? You never see the pain
and death you inflict. The blip on your targeting
computer simply disappears.
"If ... if I don't neutralise the enemy, I could - my
squadron and my friends - we all could be killed."
You're saying that you ... what was the verb you
used? "Neutralise"? - a very nice distancing term -
you only kill in defence? You never yelled with
delight after one of those targeted blips
disappeared?
Aren't you being hypocritical?
"I was ... I was as cruel as the enemy I fought."
Staring vacantly at visible tracks in the invisible
void, Luke tried to calm himself by meditating on a
self-portrait, gliding on the waves of billions of
life energies through space and time. Meditating, he
considered the pasts contained within the starlight
that now reached him - stars that had, long ago,
exhausted their fuel and died - the civilisations
that orbited them, having either moved on or perished
where they once flourished.
Luke placed a hand against the transparisteel to hide
his distorted reflection. Freedom from condemnation
was contained within the form of the icy touch of
infinity beyond the confines of the pod and the one
within it.
That was the nature of all within the universe.
Relativity, in relation to solar systems and other
large masses, and quantum phenomena that he could
only gain empirical awareness of through a very
specific form of meditation. In between those two
extremes were beings like him, whose struggles were
comparatively either too quick or too slow but were,
inevitably perhaps, inconsequential.
What had to concern him, therefore, was exactly what
Master Yoda had emphasised: the present, and how one
contributes to its quality. For Jedi Learner, Luke
Skywalker, that meant hope - not only for his own
survival, but also for the expansion of tolerance and
freedoms, the maintenance of order and justice
against violations, and the ease of providing basic
needs for survival to all sentients.
He could not provide this hope without extensive
assistance and education. Despite their paranoid
attack on him, he still needed what the Alliance
could offer, as they needed him in kind.
The Sith, and the legacy that slithered behind them,
remained refreshed in the minds of the Alliance
Leadership due to Vader's very presence. It had been
so long since Jedi Knights existed that, for many, a
Force-Conductor was a frightening thing. It was no
wonder, then, that they allowed such emotion to
justify their attempt on his life.
'A loathsome liability.' He'd been reviewing his
conversation with Mon Mothma ever since it occurred.
He was now so waterlogged with emotion, that he felt
numb. That numbness, however, allowed him clarity of
perception that he'd never experienced before. A
liability ... whatever happened to his father could
happen to him, but it did not have to be that way.
In his meditation, he considered the cosmos as its
own kind of desert. A desert's heat would be very
welcome now, he thought dryly. Shivering, he knew
that the power couplings were spasming in the
equivalent of death throws.
Peering at the depleting level of the oxygen supply
indicator, he made himself as comfortable as he could
in the cramped space. "Ben," he called to the
martyred Jedi Knight; but, as on Cloud City, he was
answered with silence. A grim smile briefly
stretched his lips as he comforted himself with the
notion that perhaps he would be making the final
transition on his own terms.
"Leia," he amended, and concentrated on visualising
his co-ordinates displayed on the navigational map.
If she could hear his call as she had before, if
there was some way she could contact the emergency
unit at Ithaka without arousing Alliance suspicion
... if ... if.
Alone in the darkness, uncertain of his fate, he did
the last thing he could think of to save himself.
Closing his eyes, he drew on the Force to slow his
breathing and heart rate, and rapidly sank into a
state of suspended animation.
SUSPENSION
His mind and body swiftly focused as the youth
summoned the Force. Feeling its power surge within
him, Luke raised his lightsaber and, with one
powerful stroke, severed the Dark Lord's head from
his body.
As Luke watched in shocked disbelief, the broken
helmet rolled to a stop at his feet. It flared
briefly, then fell aside to reveal, not the unknown,
imagined face of Darth Vader, but Luke's own face,
looking up at him, immobilising him in mind and body.
Even now, as he lay confined within the pod, he
remained this immobilised prisoner of his own
occluded control.
His needs for aversion, to be liked, and for non-
existence, were the dragonesque inner ego that
continued to command dominion over him through fear.
If he could face them and stop avoiding them, maybe
then the freedom of peace would not be so
unattainable.
If he were to disentangle these knots he had allowed
to form in his mind, he would need a great deal of
time apart from anything familiar to him. This is
what his teachers, Obi-wan and Yoda, had done. Now
he saw the necessity of it, beyond political
detection.
The silence and peace of seclusion, he believed would
allow for the development of awareness, calmness, and
insightful wisdom that would allow him to see things
as they really are. And, perhaps, allow him to quiet
his self-hatred. Only then, could he return to his
teacher to truly hear the life in his words.
* * *
THREE YEARS LATER
"My mistake was not using cunning and self-control."
Fingers splayed and pressed flat against the
transparisteel of a port window, Luke felt the brutal
cold touch of the perfect reflection of his hand
spread, in kind, against his own.
"I felt useless when I first saw the visions of you
and Han suffering on Bespin," he explained. "I felt
useless when I woke up on the Medical Frigate, when
the consequences of what I'd done and ... and the
truth ... finally impacted. I emotionally exploded:
I could not remain patient, in the hope that the
Force would guide me, like a lure; I could not remain
anxiously inoffensive, unable to act."
"You're not alone in that sentiment. After I thought
you'd been assassinated, I resigned, knowing full
well that I, too, might be conveniently erased," Leia
said quietly. "I believe that I was spared because
the Leadership is paranoid that, given my former rank
and position within the Alliance, I might have
arranged to have certain tactical and personal
information disbursed to the network in the event of
my death.
"In any case, what's more surprising is that my
recent request for reinstatement was accepted." She
paused, then saluted sloppily. "Lieutenant Organa,
at your service."
Luke turned slowly to face the Princess. A high
collar framed his angular features, the black clothes
blurring all but the blue eyes that glowed with an
inner light. He was a dark stain against the
bleached white of the room in which he stood.
His voice startled her. "Why did you return to the
Alliance then, if you feel this way?"
"Because I can only change it from within."
He stood silently for a moment, studying her. "'From
within'. Thank you, that is the key. Leia, our
choices of action were simply naïve, being neither
good nor evil. These concepts don't exist apart from
each other. There is no duality."
"On the contrary," Leia said, "while it's true that
we know of what is good in part by contrasting it
with what we consider evil, these concepts
theoretically can exist independently of each other.
Further, I think that such polarised concepts can
manifest themselves independently within the same
individual, given a specific set of circumstances."
"Such as," Luke prompted.
"For simplicity's sake, let's take my reaction to
Vader as an example."
For the first time since she saw him dangling,
perilously from Cloud City's belly, he smiled.
"What I'm trying to say is that my reaction to that
monster never wavers. I'd kill him, if I had the
means." She righted herself, "Is that evil? Maybe,
because my motivation is only to satisfy my revenge
for Alderaan and everything else I loved that was
taken from me. It's the same level of thought that
he has, but I don't let it control me.
"It is because I don't saturate myself with this
hatred that I am able to carry out deeds of
philanthropy - deeds that, at their centre, are not
born out of a need to prove that I still have this
capability. Nevertheless, I can't alter the
intensity of what I feel at the very mention of
Vader's name."
Luke studied her in silence for a few moments,
maintaining eye contact with some effort. "Or
won't," and held his left hand up to her, in a
gesture of cessation. "I think I understand what
things lurk in such depths. When they are brought to
the surface," he paused and turned his head slightly
to the left, consequently shifting his line of sight
from her eyes. It was as if he feared to corrupt her
with nothing more complex than visual contact. "There
is a lot that's unpleasant to see."
"It's the same for all of us, Luke. I'd be much
happier and, admitedly less hypocritical, if I didn't
cling to this anger." She inhaled loudly through her
nose, then released the calming breath in a quick
snort. "But I know I'd be less effective without
it."
"Effective," he murmured and, turning back to the
window, finally addressed his reflection twin
hovering over the abyss, who regarded him in turn.
"What I've been taught is fatally over simplified.
The Jedi are dead, and I must now take responsibility
for setting my own moral standards. It is what I may
do, and not what I may not do, that will form the
basis of this New Order."
He cocked his head in profile. "The Jedi Knights
were the most visible symbols of the Old Republic.
The public defeat of such a powerful and infamous
figure as Jabba - by no less than this resurrected
symbol of the O.R. - will force the Rebel Command to
play along, if they want to prove the seriousness of
their New Republic 'cause' to anyone."
Turning in full towards her, the cold steel of his
gaze seemed to penetrate the distance between the two
outsiders. "The time for action is approaching.
You'll know, soon, when I need you to implement your
part in the plan."
The communications screen darkened. Leia disengaged
the splicer decoder from the public station she sat
at, hoping that this covert conversation was not
detected or traceable, and returned it to its hiding
place in the emptied base of the hologram of her
father, Senator Bail Organa.
"Dad, I hope you approve," she said to the inoperable
object. "I have faith in Luke. Call it intuition."
* * *
EPILOGUE
Tatooine, Obi-wan Kenobi's Abandoned Dwelling
When the night still cloaked half of the globe in a
redeeming chill, a light was extinguished from within
a small adobe hut on the shores of the Wastes. An
abstemious garbed apparition materialised at the
threshold.
Looking out at the blackened span of dust, Luke
briefly longed for the shelter of ignorance. There
was so much that he did not want to know or to
remember, now.
The lessons of a harsh life had permanently changed
him. He was more thoughtful, more cautious, but he
could also not shake the darkness that obscured his
perception. It would never fall from him, but
perhaps all that defined 'good' was to never deviate
from a self-defined ethical foundation.
He wondered what kind of a man he would be now, had
he refused to answer the call of fate. A sigh
banished these thoughts, and he turned to face the
first of the twin suns as it broke the horizon.
Between the shadows and the wind, the blade of a Jedi
Knight was raised once more.
* * *
RETURN of the JEDI
Hovering over the burning sand, like a pool of black
water, a shadow moved toward its destiny. The gate
to Jabba's Palace opened with a gesture, and the wind
from the risen sun howled inside.
This is a work of original fan fiction based on
characters and situations created by George Lucas and
copyrighted to Lucasfilm, Ltd.. The intent of this
work is for the entertainment of fans of the original
trilogy of the 'Star Wars' saga, and is not intended
to garner payment in any form. This work may be
copied, linked, or re-posted as long as this
disclaimer accompanies any such action and the author
is notified in writing. Comments are welcomed, but
please use civility. Do not respond with viruses,
profanity, or any other destructive correspondence.
Summary:
The Sith Lord glanced into the heart of the wounded
Rebel Commander to torture him with the truth of his
desire - a truth that held within it an intolerable
future. Luke had ventured into the labyrinth to
assail the beast, only to discover that he was,
himself, the beast.
Time-line: Rebellion, following the events described
in the movie, 'The Empire Strikes Back' (1980)
Rating: PG
Keywords: Luke, drama, Rebellion
* * *
GAZE of the ABYSS
(c) 2000, by: Lynne Freels
lynne@westies.com
(Read more of the author's fan fiction at:
http://www.westies.com/misc)
"Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster,
and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also
into you."
- Friedrich Nietzsche
"Ten score years ago, defeat the kingly foe
A wondrous dream came into being
Tame the trackless waste, no virgin land left chaste
All shining eyes, but never seeing
Beneath the noble birth
Between the proudest words
Behind the beauty, crack appear
Once, with heads held high
They sang out to the sky
Why do their shadows bow in fear? ...
The guns replace the plow, facades are tarnished now
The principles have been betrayed
The dream's gone stale, but still, let hope prevail
History's debt won't be repaid"
- 'Beneath, Between And Behind', Neil Peart & Alex
Lifeson
{Rush, "Fly by Night", 1975}
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PROLOGUE
Millennium Falcon, above the gas planet Bespin
I am your father.
I am your hate: of self, of circumstance, of things
that smother. I am your fear: of pain, of
repetition, of insanity. They know that who I am is
what you are. They can smell it on you. You reek of
the truth: a loathsome liability.
I am your father.
I am your weakness, and I will stalk you even as your
hair bleaches grey, and time carves your skin in
passing. I will not sleep, I will not erode, and I
will gorge on your interminable uncertainty.
I am you.
"Ben, why didn't you tell me?"
The beaten warrior flooded his mind with agony,
abruptly uncoupling the mental link with the monster,
and he plaited senseless to the floor, even as the
stars outside the cockpit window elongated into the
safety of hyperspace.
* * *
CHAPTER ONE: AUTUMN EQUINOX
Millennium Falcon, 384,000 kilometres from Alliance
Fleet
"I told you, we've got a medical emergency here,"
Princess Leia never took her eyes off the damp grey
of Luke Skywalker's face, skin slack with vacuous
relief. A breath with the plea, 'Aunt Beru', barely
passed through the parted, ashen lips, and his half-
lidded eyes glazed over.
Exhausted and still sore from her recent ordeal,
Leia's impatience was blatantly evident. "Unless the
clearance code has been changed since the Hoth
evacuation," she blustered, "you damned well better
allow passage, now!"
A single shot was fired from Blue Leader's X-Wing
fighter, whose squadron had halted the Falcon's
progress. The old freighter twitched from the blast
that singed her belly. In the pilot's chair, Lando
lifted an eyebrow at his Wookie co-pilot. "Nice
welcome," he said sarcastically. "First the Empire
tries to kill us, now the Rebellion decides to use us
for laser cannon practice. Maybe we should have
removed that universal target signal, after all."
"Millenium Falcon," Blue Leader's voice
interrupted,"you have been cleared to dock under our
escort. Do not deviate from this course or you will
be destroyed."
* * *
"How do you feel?"
In an empty surgical preparation room on one of the
Alliance's three Medical Frigates, Luke opened his
eyes and tried to remember the name of the man before
him, the same man who had pulled him into the
relative safety of the freighter beneath Bespin's
Cloud City. "Very tired," he admitted. "But my ribs
are almost healed. Also, this is weird, it feels
like I still have my right hand. I mean, I have the
sensation that my palm and fingers are burning. The
treatments are helping, though."
Lando Calrissian, former self-titled Baron
Administrator of Cloud City, pulled a chair up to
Luke's bedside. "No really," he said, his
deceptively casual manner hid an extraordinary
perceptiveness. "How do you feel?"
"In a way, I was hoping that you'd be satisfied with
that half of the answer." Simple no more, the young
man let his eyes fall to the tourniquet that still
encased the symbol of his mistake. "It's been a few
years since I was disciplined for doing something
stupid."
"I don't see how trying to save your friends deserves
punishment, let alone what happened to you in Cloud
City."
"But I didn't save them." Luke said softly. Raising
his head, he accidentally looked up and into the
deformed features of his reflection in the polished
metal of an indescript piece of medical equipment.
"You know, I never got much praise from my uncle when
I was growing up. I guess with everyone
congratulating me on that shot that blew the Death
Star --"
"YOU fired that shot?" Lando sat forward, reassessing
the youth. "Maker, that was a one in a million
chance!"
"Yeah, well listening to comments like that all the
time made me reckless." A few months ago, such
praise would have generated an abashed smile. Now,
Luke's face darkened with a frown. "I lost
perspective and started believing that I was more
than I was. In the moment that I stood facing Vader
before we fought, all I could think of was that I
could beat him. I'd beat him, and then people would
continue to like me. I'd beat him, and make him pay
for what he took from me. I'd beat him because I'm
young and invincible.
"I won't make those mistakes again," he resolved.
A tall woman, dressed in ankle length, abstemious
robes, entered the room. Luke had never met the
Alliance Leader in person before.
She inclined her head, acknowledging Lando.
"Administrator Calrissian, I am Mon Mothma, one of
the Alliance Leaders," she said. "I will need to
speak with you at some point within the next few
hours, if you would make time before you leave."
"Certainly," he agreed, smoothly. "How about over
dinner?"
"Administrator -"
"Call me Lando," he encouraged her with a smile. His
first impression of this Alliance Leader was one that
forewarned a distinct disadvantage for him if he
conversed in territory familiar to her.
"As you prefer. Lando, it is my habit to discuss
business matters without such distractions, but thank
you for offering. Now, I need to speak to the
Commander privately."
He inclined his head, still smiling. As a free
agent, he hoped that he would not have to unduly
concern himself with her intentions or motivations.
After all, she was no Darth Vader. Waving a
farewell to Luke, Lando left with a rustle of his
klis shirt.
As the partition slid shut, Mon Mothma turned to
address the youth. "Commander, the Princess
debriefed the Council on the events that occurred on
Bespin, and I will speak to Calrissian later about
this. First, though, I want to confirm Leia's
statements with yours, if you're well enough."
"I'd rather get this over with now. What do you want
to know."
Without preamble, Mon Mothma seated herself before
him. "First of all, will you explain your absence
between the Hoth Base evacuation and your encounter
with Darth Vader on Bespin?"
Unaccountably, Luke felt strongly that any revelation
of Yoda's existence would constitute a betrayal of an
assumed trust between the teacher and his student
and, more than that, would put the diminutive Jedi
Master in mortal jeopardy. He was undecided if this
belief originated from intuition or from a Force
enhanced premonition. For all he knew, Yoda had
placed this trigger in his mind. "I cannot," he
said, uncertain of the consequences of his refusal.
"I'm sorry."
"Then explain this to me: you fought against a
powerful Sith Lord, one who is credited with the
genocide of the Jedi Order, yet you lived with
comparatively little damage to show for it. Why?"
How now to vanquish the goulish shadow of his
father's failure, and his own? "He told me, at the
moment of my helplessness, that it was he was who was
responsible for my life." Still, there was an
irresistible vanity in the idea of a freed
conscience, released by the foundation of genetic
inevitability. Ego.
"Explain what you mean by that statement."
"Only that I underestimated his power. He can
destroy me at his leisure."
Something intangible within the Alliance Leader
solidified, although Luke could not detect any
outward change. "Then he does not consider you a
threat to the Empire?"
'You can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this.'
"Not to him, anyway."
"Commander, you do not help your situation." Her
tone gained aloofness. "It is in your best interest
to reveal everything that has happened to you in the
past several months."
Luke spread his arms in a submissive gesture. "I've
said all that I can say."
Mon Mothma stood, then. "Here is what I interpret
from both of the statements I've heard, thus far.
You will not reveal your whereabouts between Hoth and
Bespin because you did not make it through the
Imperial blockade and were taken prisoner. They
threatened, or brainwashed, or did something to you
to convert you into an Imperial Agent."
She removed the chair from the bedside, in an act of
objectification. "Since the Alliance is never in one
place for too long, the only way you could easily
infiltrate the Rebellion was through Leia, who was a
prisoner of the Empire at the time. Vader then
allowed her to escape, so that she could rescue you
and return you to the Fleet. You agreed to be beaten
and mutilated to make your return to us all the more
convincing."
Luke stared at her, incredulous. "How could you make
that stuff up? I am not an Imperial Spy!"
"Then what are you?" She countered.
'A loathsome liability.' "Confused. I've got a lot
to work out, but I'm no threat to the Alliance," he
answered honestly. "Besides, if I were a spy, I'd
put a tracer on the Falcon to lead the Imperial Fleet
here, not just send one guy in to spy for them."
Mon Mothma's expression hardened. "We blasted one off
the Falcon's keel before she was allowed to dock with
us. The Empire would hope that we thought that the
tracer was the only threatening cargo."
She paused at the edge of a decision. "Commander, I
know that you are very close to Princess Leia and,
therefore, may have more access to sensitive
information than others of similar rank. I need your
honest answer when I ask how much you know of our
manoeuvrings and future strategies."
Nervous and scared now, Luke stared at her, not
comprehending her motivations. "Let me rephrase the
question," she said. "Do you act as her confidant?"
"Yes, I do. She trusts me with sensitive
information, as you ought to." Suddenly, he realised
the absolute truth of what he had just stated. Leia
was his anchor; he knew that now. How could he be
his father's doppelganger, when her trust in him - in
his goodness - never faltered? At last, he saw the
nobility that lay at the quiet centre out of which he
should always act. It had not mutated at the touch of
Vader's revelation.
A sigh from the woman beside him brought his
attention back outward. She glanced over at the 2-1B
medical droid that rolled to a position next to
Luke's bed. "The patient requires rest," it said in
a soothing voice. "I kindly request that your visit
conclude, presently." Had it been coded for
emotions, Mon Mothma would have thought it was trying
to protect its charge.
"Very well," she acknowledged. "Luke, I have to meet
with the Council at 0400 hours about this situation.
I can only tell them what you told me. Many will
interpret your account in the same way I described to
you. Please reconsider your silence."
* * *
CHAPTER TWO: SPRING EQUINOX
Headquarters Frigate, Alliance Fleet
"And that eviscerated supplier is relatively close to
our current position. Our delay in leaving this area
may have jeapro -"
"What in the hell did you just do?!" A little figure
in white assailed Mon Mothma's office, like an
avenging squall.
The members of the interrupted meeting rose to
intercept the intruder. "No," the Alliance Leader
checked them. "It's alright. I need to address the
Princess's concerns. As agreed upon, the Fleet will
break up within the hour to stager-rendezvous at Fo
Chasaibh Nan Mamb."
As the door slid shut behind her, Leia closed in on
the other woman. "Luke was suppose to be discharged
and let off at the nearest port; so, why did you just
murder the pilot that destroyed the Death Star? You
just assassinated Rogue Leader, whose courage and
tactical manoeuvrings allowed the Alliance to escape
the Imperials on Hoth! Did you forget that you, and
billions of other people, owe him your lives?!"
Weary, Mon Mothma closed her eyes for a moment. When
she opened them again, she seemed imperfect, perhaps
frailer. "Princess Leia, under normal circumstances,
I would not debate you. But the time that we live in
now is far from normal. Our present circumstances
require extraordinary caution and demands overly much
of each of us."
She indicated a chair for Leia to sit in, but the
other remained standing, arms folded in front of her.
Sighing, Mothma continued, "If we are, indeed, the
last hope for the restoration of basic freedoms to
the peoples of this galaxy, who now suffer
unimaginable atrocities under the current
totalitarian rule, then we must at times be ruthless
ourselves. In the very least, we cannot afford to
take any chances."
Incredulous, Leia stared at her associate, trying to
discern the base of the platform she now stood on.
"'Be ruthless ourselves'? Are you actually listening
to what you're saying?"
"Yes, I am! It sounds as grating to me as it does to
you, but there is a definitive reality here that must
be faced, whether we like it or not." Mothma stood
and walked to the end of the room, staring inward.
After a few moments, she turned around. "Mister
Skywalker's Imperial collaboration was not disproved,
and the Alliance could not allow his knowledge of our
affairs and, more importantly, his demonstrated Force
abilities to fall into the hands of the Imperials."
Her voice did not modulate. "The decision was not an
easy one, as I like him on a personal level, but it
was a necessary tactical choice that, otherwise,
might have meant our destruction."
Leia sat down, noting Mothma's forced use of a
civilian title when speaking of Luke, and folded her
hands in her lap. "The only way we will win this
struggle is if we win the hearts and minds of
individuals. The only way to do that is through
example. You cannot compartmentalise your mind like
that, because you won't be able to change what is
inside you. If you can't do that, then you will not
be able to change what's around you."
Mon Mothma closed the distance between them to take
the Princess's rough hands in hers. Leia looked
uncomfortably down at the entwined fingers, but
allowed the touch to continue. "That's what I need,
sometimes; your idealism. I'm afraid that practical
matters have hardened my own heart, to a certain
extent. I often wonder how far such thoughts as you
expunge can be carried into the workings of this
Rebellion. It began as such, but should we allow
this wish for a political utopia to dictate our
actions now, even when we know that these actions
could mean the utter obliteration of the Alliance?"
The Princess, who had already suffered more than most
others in her short life, reversed the hold of her
encased hands as she stood, to grip the older woman's
shoulders in an act of circumspection. "Ultimately,
our success will depend on the strength of all
aspects of our strategy. What I want to make clear
is that if we choose not to act out of moral
integrity and personal example, then the misery and
perversion of the Empire will simply be replaced by
the misery and perversion of the restored Republic."
Leia held onto Mon Mothma in silence, hoping that her
words would ferment within the Alliance Leader. "I'm
sorry, Leia," Mothma said, her gentle voice
contrasting her words. "But to have allowed Skywalker
to live would have posed an unacceptable risk to the
freedom movement. Most of the Council, who endured
Palpetine's purges and the atrocities committed by
his Sith puppet, reluctantly agreed that the unusual
circumstances of Skywalker's Force abilities and his
prolonged, unaccounted absence, called for swift and
final action on our part."
Mothma's grip tightened in the only evidence of her
frustration. "We could not afford the very real
potential risk of another Sith, one with crippling
tactical knowledge. Skywalker, himself, said that he
would not be able to resist Vader."
Dropping her gaze as she dropped her hands, Leia
formally resigned her commission. "You may have just
eliminated our last, best hope," she said, and walked
away.
* * *
Shuttle Calliope Escape Pod, Adrift off Port Ithaka
Dazed from the impact caused by the shock waves of
Calliope's destruction, the escape pod's lone
passenger nevertheless had enough sense to shut down
all non-critical power, and seal the structure's main
debris-caused puncture wounds with aerogel.
Turning his attention next to the life support-
powered auto distress signal, the Jedi Learner
visualised its components, then, with a mental tug,
tore it apart. He hoped that the Alliance did not
pick up its signals for help, or the last thing he'd
see would be cannon fire from his own squadron.
The images and feelings he had purloined from the
Deck Captain turned out to be true. Had he not acted
on what he absorbed and stayed in the shuttle, he
would be dead now. The Alliance had betrayed him,
just as Ben had.
Luke had accounted for everything his panicked mind
could remember from General Dodonna's survival
courses. Now, as he finished patching the smaller
leaks in the hull, fear saw an opening in his defence
and rapidly rose to grapple with him.
Lonely and angry, he looked critically upon himself,
wondering what that futile wonderer did and why.
Thinking himself detached, madness approached as
these severed selves conversed in the void.
What did Ben and Yoda want from him? What fate
awaited him? What if his destiny was nothing more
than to die there, in a tiny coffin that once offered
him hope? What was the purpose of that conclusion?
What if there was no destiny, apart from whatever
fantasy he constructed?
"No," he said.
Why 'no'?
"Because I don't want to hear anymore."
Why?
"If I'm going to die, I don't want my last moments to
consist of regrets."
What do you regret?
"Stop it! Everything. I don't know, just leave me
alone!"
You regret that you wasted your time daydreaming,
when you should have been preparing.
"My uncle needed me, he said so himself! He said
that he needed my help until the next harvest. I
stayed because I had a duty, a responsibility, to
him."
Did you? Look closer. You had a much greater duty,
but you allowed your fear to stop you from performing
your responsibilities.
"I wasn't afraid! I begged my uncle to let me apply
to the Academy."
To which you knew he would forbid it, then argue
against it. Besides, you could have left the farm
whenever you wanted, but the pain, the destruction,
the death that you knew would partake in your life,
scared you into inaction.
"And who wouldn't be afraid of such things? Who
would want it?"
You had a duty, and your procrastination cost the
lives of millions.
"One person cannot change the outcome of the war."
Really? Do you truly believe that? Be honest, now.
It was not death that scared you; it was the
possibility that you'd enjoy the killing.
"I don't enjoy killing others! I do it to help
restore freedom to the oppressed."
Yes, and you still clutch frantically to that ideal;
but, in the middle of battle, how do you feel when
you destroy a target? That's a good, sanitary name
for your victim, isn't it? You never see the pain
and death you inflict. The blip on your targeting
computer simply disappears.
"If ... if I don't neutralise the enemy, I could - my
squadron and my friends - we all could be killed."
You're saying that you ... what was the verb you
used? "Neutralise"? - a very nice distancing term -
you only kill in defence? You never yelled with
delight after one of those targeted blips
disappeared?
Aren't you being hypocritical?
"I was ... I was as cruel as the enemy I fought."
Staring vacantly at visible tracks in the invisible
void, Luke tried to calm himself by meditating on a
self-portrait, gliding on the waves of billions of
life energies through space and time. Meditating, he
considered the pasts contained within the starlight
that now reached him - stars that had, long ago,
exhausted their fuel and died - the civilisations
that orbited them, having either moved on or perished
where they once flourished.
Luke placed a hand against the transparisteel to hide
his distorted reflection. Freedom from condemnation
was contained within the form of the icy touch of
infinity beyond the confines of the pod and the one
within it.
That was the nature of all within the universe.
Relativity, in relation to solar systems and other
large masses, and quantum phenomena that he could
only gain empirical awareness of through a very
specific form of meditation. In between those two
extremes were beings like him, whose struggles were
comparatively either too quick or too slow but were,
inevitably perhaps, inconsequential.
What had to concern him, therefore, was exactly what
Master Yoda had emphasised: the present, and how one
contributes to its quality. For Jedi Learner, Luke
Skywalker, that meant hope - not only for his own
survival, but also for the expansion of tolerance and
freedoms, the maintenance of order and justice
against violations, and the ease of providing basic
needs for survival to all sentients.
He could not provide this hope without extensive
assistance and education. Despite their paranoid
attack on him, he still needed what the Alliance
could offer, as they needed him in kind.
The Sith, and the legacy that slithered behind them,
remained refreshed in the minds of the Alliance
Leadership due to Vader's very presence. It had been
so long since Jedi Knights existed that, for many, a
Force-Conductor was a frightening thing. It was no
wonder, then, that they allowed such emotion to
justify their attempt on his life.
'A loathsome liability.' He'd been reviewing his
conversation with Mon Mothma ever since it occurred.
He was now so waterlogged with emotion, that he felt
numb. That numbness, however, allowed him clarity of
perception that he'd never experienced before. A
liability ... whatever happened to his father could
happen to him, but it did not have to be that way.
In his meditation, he considered the cosmos as its
own kind of desert. A desert's heat would be very
welcome now, he thought dryly. Shivering, he knew
that the power couplings were spasming in the
equivalent of death throws.
Peering at the depleting level of the oxygen supply
indicator, he made himself as comfortable as he could
in the cramped space. "Ben," he called to the
martyred Jedi Knight; but, as on Cloud City, he was
answered with silence. A grim smile briefly
stretched his lips as he comforted himself with the
notion that perhaps he would be making the final
transition on his own terms.
"Leia," he amended, and concentrated on visualising
his co-ordinates displayed on the navigational map.
If she could hear his call as she had before, if
there was some way she could contact the emergency
unit at Ithaka without arousing Alliance suspicion
... if ... if.
Alone in the darkness, uncertain of his fate, he did
the last thing he could think of to save himself.
Closing his eyes, he drew on the Force to slow his
breathing and heart rate, and rapidly sank into a
state of suspended animation.
SUSPENSION
His mind and body swiftly focused as the youth
summoned the Force. Feeling its power surge within
him, Luke raised his lightsaber and, with one
powerful stroke, severed the Dark Lord's head from
his body.
As Luke watched in shocked disbelief, the broken
helmet rolled to a stop at his feet. It flared
briefly, then fell aside to reveal, not the unknown,
imagined face of Darth Vader, but Luke's own face,
looking up at him, immobilising him in mind and body.
Even now, as he lay confined within the pod, he
remained this immobilised prisoner of his own
occluded control.
His needs for aversion, to be liked, and for non-
existence, were the dragonesque inner ego that
continued to command dominion over him through fear.
If he could face them and stop avoiding them, maybe
then the freedom of peace would not be so
unattainable.
If he were to disentangle these knots he had allowed
to form in his mind, he would need a great deal of
time apart from anything familiar to him. This is
what his teachers, Obi-wan and Yoda, had done. Now
he saw the necessity of it, beyond political
detection.
The silence and peace of seclusion, he believed would
allow for the development of awareness, calmness, and
insightful wisdom that would allow him to see things
as they really are. And, perhaps, allow him to quiet
his self-hatred. Only then, could he return to his
teacher to truly hear the life in his words.
* * *
THREE YEARS LATER
"My mistake was not using cunning and self-control."
Fingers splayed and pressed flat against the
transparisteel of a port window, Luke felt the brutal
cold touch of the perfect reflection of his hand
spread, in kind, against his own.
"I felt useless when I first saw the visions of you
and Han suffering on Bespin," he explained. "I felt
useless when I woke up on the Medical Frigate, when
the consequences of what I'd done and ... and the
truth ... finally impacted. I emotionally exploded:
I could not remain patient, in the hope that the
Force would guide me, like a lure; I could not remain
anxiously inoffensive, unable to act."
"You're not alone in that sentiment. After I thought
you'd been assassinated, I resigned, knowing full
well that I, too, might be conveniently erased," Leia
said quietly. "I believe that I was spared because
the Leadership is paranoid that, given my former rank
and position within the Alliance, I might have
arranged to have certain tactical and personal
information disbursed to the network in the event of
my death.
"In any case, what's more surprising is that my
recent request for reinstatement was accepted." She
paused, then saluted sloppily. "Lieutenant Organa,
at your service."
Luke turned slowly to face the Princess. A high
collar framed his angular features, the black clothes
blurring all but the blue eyes that glowed with an
inner light. He was a dark stain against the
bleached white of the room in which he stood.
His voice startled her. "Why did you return to the
Alliance then, if you feel this way?"
"Because I can only change it from within."
He stood silently for a moment, studying her. "'From
within'. Thank you, that is the key. Leia, our
choices of action were simply naïve, being neither
good nor evil. These concepts don't exist apart from
each other. There is no duality."
"On the contrary," Leia said, "while it's true that
we know of what is good in part by contrasting it
with what we consider evil, these concepts
theoretically can exist independently of each other.
Further, I think that such polarised concepts can
manifest themselves independently within the same
individual, given a specific set of circumstances."
"Such as," Luke prompted.
"For simplicity's sake, let's take my reaction to
Vader as an example."
For the first time since she saw him dangling,
perilously from Cloud City's belly, he smiled.
"What I'm trying to say is that my reaction to that
monster never wavers. I'd kill him, if I had the
means." She righted herself, "Is that evil? Maybe,
because my motivation is only to satisfy my revenge
for Alderaan and everything else I loved that was
taken from me. It's the same level of thought that
he has, but I don't let it control me.
"It is because I don't saturate myself with this
hatred that I am able to carry out deeds of
philanthropy - deeds that, at their centre, are not
born out of a need to prove that I still have this
capability. Nevertheless, I can't alter the
intensity of what I feel at the very mention of
Vader's name."
Luke studied her in silence for a few moments,
maintaining eye contact with some effort. "Or
won't," and held his left hand up to her, in a
gesture of cessation. "I think I understand what
things lurk in such depths. When they are brought to
the surface," he paused and turned his head slightly
to the left, consequently shifting his line of sight
from her eyes. It was as if he feared to corrupt her
with nothing more complex than visual contact. "There
is a lot that's unpleasant to see."
"It's the same for all of us, Luke. I'd be much
happier and, admitedly less hypocritical, if I didn't
cling to this anger." She inhaled loudly through her
nose, then released the calming breath in a quick
snort. "But I know I'd be less effective without
it."
"Effective," he murmured and, turning back to the
window, finally addressed his reflection twin
hovering over the abyss, who regarded him in turn.
"What I've been taught is fatally over simplified.
The Jedi are dead, and I must now take responsibility
for setting my own moral standards. It is what I may
do, and not what I may not do, that will form the
basis of this New Order."
He cocked his head in profile. "The Jedi Knights
were the most visible symbols of the Old Republic.
The public defeat of such a powerful and infamous
figure as Jabba - by no less than this resurrected
symbol of the O.R. - will force the Rebel Command to
play along, if they want to prove the seriousness of
their New Republic 'cause' to anyone."
Turning in full towards her, the cold steel of his
gaze seemed to penetrate the distance between the two
outsiders. "The time for action is approaching.
You'll know, soon, when I need you to implement your
part in the plan."
The communications screen darkened. Leia disengaged
the splicer decoder from the public station she sat
at, hoping that this covert conversation was not
detected or traceable, and returned it to its hiding
place in the emptied base of the hologram of her
father, Senator Bail Organa.
"Dad, I hope you approve," she said to the inoperable
object. "I have faith in Luke. Call it intuition."
* * *
EPILOGUE
Tatooine, Obi-wan Kenobi's Abandoned Dwelling
When the night still cloaked half of the globe in a
redeeming chill, a light was extinguished from within
a small adobe hut on the shores of the Wastes. An
abstemious garbed apparition materialised at the
threshold.
Looking out at the blackened span of dust, Luke
briefly longed for the shelter of ignorance. There
was so much that he did not want to know or to
remember, now.
The lessons of a harsh life had permanently changed
him. He was more thoughtful, more cautious, but he
could also not shake the darkness that obscured his
perception. It would never fall from him, but
perhaps all that defined 'good' was to never deviate
from a self-defined ethical foundation.
He wondered what kind of a man he would be now, had
he refused to answer the call of fate. A sigh
banished these thoughts, and he turned to face the
first of the twin suns as it broke the horizon.
Between the shadows and the wind, the blade of a Jedi
Knight was raised once more.
* * *
RETURN of the JEDI
Hovering over the burning sand, like a pool of black
water, a shadow moved toward its destiny. The gate
to Jabba's Palace opened with a gesture, and the wind
from the risen sun howled inside.