A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...
EPISODE V
THE SACRIFICE OF THE MOTHER
It is a dark time for the Rebellion. Although the Death Star has been destroyed, rumors that the Imperial heir Luke Palpatine and his twin sister, Leia, died in the attack have made the Rebellion the target not only of the Empire but of many who used to support their cause. Imperial troops have driven the Rebel forces from their base on Yavin, forcing them into hiding wherever they can find refuge.
Unaware of the chaos they have created in the galaxy, the the Palpatine twins are still very much alive and aboard the Millennium Falcon with smuggler Han Solo, on the run after a failed attempt by the twins to destroy Obi-Wan Kenobi's Jedi Academy.
The evil lord Darth Vader, also presumed dead in the Death Star attack, remains in the hands of Sola Soruna and her Rebel Alliance, held prisoner on their new base on the icy world of Hoth.
Meanwhile, the surviving Jedi from Yavin race across the galaxy to reach their new home only to find that the Empire has gotten there first...
The Ghost had successfully evaded the Imperial flotilla that swarmed above Yavin 4 and made the jump to hyperspace only to come out over Tatooine to find a whole new set of problems.
"They can't have tracked us through hyperspace!" the captain, Hera Syndulla, said it before anyone could even make the suggestion. She punched the comm button, her lekku twitching irritably down her back. "Green Leader, any idea where this traffic jam came from?"
"Negative, Phoenix Leader. I'm as baffled as you are." Shara Bey didn't sound baffled, she sounded as annoyed as Hera was. "Green Squadron, let's clear a path for our friends."
A rust-bucket astromech over in the corner of the cockpit started croaking and squawking.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, the only occupant of the cockpit not currently engaged in the Ghost's fight for survival, spoke up. "What did he say?"
Hera didn't answer him directly, but spoke to their escort instead. "Green Leader, Chopper's picking up chatter from Mos Eisley. The Empire has been here for three days, blockading the spaceport." Hera jerked the controls of the Ghost, dodging an incoming TIE fighter before yelling into the internal comms. "Sabine, Ezra, a little more shooting would be nice!" She flashed a quick smile back to Obi-Wan. "Thanks for letting me borrow your Jedi, Master Kenobi."
"He was your Jedi first. Besides, it's good practice for him," Obi-Wan said drily. Half to himself, he murmured, "Now why would the Imperials blockade Tatooine…"
The astromech had the answer for that too.
"Guess there was a slave revolt in one of the outer settlements. Locals tried to support them," Hera translated.
"So they're trying to starve them back into submission. Wonderful."
"Just hang on, Master Kenobi. We've gotten the Ghost through worse."
"Phoenix Leader," Shara's voice came over the comms, "we've got an opening for you if you hurry."
"Copy that, Green Leader, I see it." To the entire ship, she said, "Everyone, hang on."
The Ghost gave a sickening lurch that left Obi-Wan curling his fingers into the armrests of his seat, then started a spiraling descent to Mos Eisley. So much for a secret arrival, he thought, closing his eyes.
#
After Luke woke up Leia from a sound sleep for the second night running with his dreams, she'd unceremoniously kicked him out of her bunk and sent him back to sleep alone in his own. He was tempted to go find Han, both to spite her and because "alone" was the last thing he wanted to be. But it was late, and having a sleep-deprived pilot was a terrible idea, so he went back to the separate cabin he'd first been assigned when they'd boarded the Falcon on Coruscant.
Sleep came quickly, but it didn't stay long.
When he opened his eyes, he was alone except for the dead Jedi sitting on the edge of his bunk, watching him.
"Go away," he groaned. If it wasn't this, it was the dreams, or maybe this was a dream. He could barely tell the difference between the two anymore.
"I told you it wouldn't be easy." His name—assuming that this wasn't a hallucination on Luke's part—was Ferus, and ever since Luke had killed him on Yavin 4, he'd taken up residence on the Falcon—or just in Luke's mind.
Luke rolled over in the bunk, turning his back on the ghost.
"It's not that easy either, Luke. You can't ignore the truth of who you are."
He didn't turn around. "I know who I am."
Ferus just laughed at him. "How could you? Your whole life has been a lie."
The likelihood that Luke was talking to himself troubled him, but he sat up and turned to face the apparition. "Then tell me what it is I don't know, or else leave me alone. Do you think this is going to help?"
"Ah, there's that Sith training. Always looking for the easy path." Ferus shook his head. "You already know the answers you need. You just need to listen."
Search your feelings, Kenobi had said. Jedi, Luke decided, needed to just learn to say what they meant.
"Just listen. You'll know what you need to do. It's calling to you." And with that Ferus started to fade from view, leaving Luke's sleep ruined for yet another night.
#
The Imperial Palace was the deadliest place in the galaxy to be in the days following the destruction of the Death Star. Sergeant Ania Keth was grateful for the anonymity her red cloak and helmet provided her as a member of the Royal Guard. Admirals and Moffs were called in to defend their actions, and more than one of them learned the hard way that the Imperial Navy had no retirement program for failed officers.
With the Death Star gone, the first days were spent scrambling, assembling casualty reports, status reports. Who was alive? Who was dead? Reports had come through just the day before the attack that the Imperial heir and his sister had been rescued (or was it apprehended—Ania had heard both versions) from a passing smuggler's freighter and may have been on board. The HoloNet had gotten its hands on that information and started broadcasting that the twins had been killed by the rebellion.
The Empire spasmed in a universal paroxysm of mourning. The HoloNet produced endless tributes to the fallen twins, pulling up old footage of them from childhood on, broadcasting their faces to the galaxy with a soundtrack of sad music. The public clamored for news on when the memorial services would be held, pressuring the Emperor to make a statement one way or another.
Of course, the twins weren't dead. Ania didn't know how the Emperor knew for certain, but he knew.
Ania and her fellow guards were sent out of private meetings again and again, but she recognized the two different sets of people coming to see the Emperor.
One group was made up of high-ranking officials with years of training in protocol and event planning, bringing stacks of datapads holding endless notes and plans. The other group, they weren't quite so respectable, beings of all species in carbon-scored armor, bristling with attitude as Ania relieved them of the weapons they carried like children.
Emperor Palpatine was planning a memorial service for his lost twins. And he was also hiring bounty hunters to hunt them down.
#
Sola sat in the tiny corner of the base designated as hers and stared at her datapad trying to resolve the Alliance's latest supply issues. Fuel was the biggest problem they had. And not just for transport. Since they'd had to abandon the base on Yavin for the much, much colder world of Hoth, the resources needed to just keep them all warm enough to stay alive had skyrocketed. If she couldn't find a new source willing to work with them, the fleet would be grounded within two weeks. A week or so after that, and they'd all freeze.
Ever since the HoloNet started broadcasting their endless memorials for "the one and a half million victims of the Death Star Massacre, including our beloved Luke and Leia," more and more of the Alliance's resources started disappearing. Former friendly suppliers stopped returning messages. One or two called in the Imperials, resulting in several close calls and a few tragic losses.
The very first thing Sola did was alert their spies to keep an eye out for the twins. Proof that they were still alive might be one of the few things that could save the Alliance now, at least while the galaxy was still in mourning.
The twins. She kept thinking of them that way. The twins. Not her twins, although by now she'd largely accepted the truth of Obi-Wan's confession. In a way, nothing had changed. Her children were still lost forever regardless.
The irony that now she needed to find them in order to save her people was not lost on her.
A knock sounded at her door, although it was open. The Jedi sent in as Obi-Wan's replacement stood there, clearly attempting not to fidget as he waited. "Ma'am?"
"Come in, Kanan." At first Sola thought Obi-Wan has mocking her when she met his replacement. Kanan Jarrus wasn't like the other Jedi—in fact, he'd spent so much more time on the Alliance base on Yavin, Sola hadn't even been sure he was a Jedi until he showed up at her door and declared himself the go-between for the Jedi and the Alliance.
Now she was forced to admit there'd been some wisdom in Obi-Wan's choice. With all that had happened, Sola had no interest in dealing with one of the less practical-minded, academic-type Jedi like Kenobi. It was working out for the best. With the school on Yavin in ruins, Obi-Wan was now stuck with rebuilding his own base of operations,. Having the main Alliance base on the same planet, hell in the same system, as the Jedi Academy had been a strategic mistake. The Empire could have easily wiped them both out that day. Never again.
"Thought you'd want to know that Master Kenobi has sent out word about the twins to our people as well." Another thing Sola appreciated about Jarrus: he didn't stand on ceremony. "I expect we're going to start hearing rumors about sightings any day now."
"As long as those rumors don't obfuscate any actual leads."
"It's a possibility, but Master Kenobi felt it was worth the risk if it got the general public looking out for them."
I'm well aware of how Obi-Wan feels about risk where the twins are concerned. Sola kept that to herself. No one in the Alliance was going to find out the truth from her.
"Thank you, Kanan." She was prepared to dismiss him, but a shift in his stance told her he had something else to say. "What is it?"
"I was thinking. About our supply problems."
Sola leaned forward. From everything she'd heard, Kanan and his crew had survived for years out on the fringes of everything using just their wits—he might have connections she did not. "Tell me."
"Well, it seems to me there's one group that has what we need, if we could get our hands on it." He scratched at the back of his head in a nervous tell and his meaning came to her.
"You think we should steal from the Empire."
"You gotta admit, they have more than they need." He gave her a hint of a grin at that.
"Yes, but that doesn't mean we have a way to get it. Unless you're bringing me a plan as well?"
"Not me, but we have someone who might be able to help." Kanan paused. "And I bet he'd talk to you."
Sola understood two things right then: Kanan Jarrus knew who she was, and he knew who Darth Vader had been. Was it common knowledge among the Jedi, then? "I'll consider that," she said. And she would, that much was true; things were almost bad enough that she'd think of going to that man—currently sitting in a newly outfitted detention cell—for help.
But not yet.
"Tell me how the academy's relocation is going," she said, already steeling herself for what she was going to have to do.
#
When the Falcon landed on Alderaan, Chewie kicked the three humans out saying he was going to make repairs on his own. Han could have protested, but Chewie snarled at him and he decided sight-seeing was the better part of valor.
Han was the only one of the three of them that had been to Alderaan before. His plans for showing them around were cut short by the HoloNet news reports that were blaring in every corner of the city.
It was one thing for the twins to duck from public notice on an Outer Rim backwater like Yavin 4, it was another thing to do so on a Core World like Alderaan—especially when every available display was broadcasting their faces with the news of their deaths at the hands of the rebels. Han was just grateful his face wasn't up there too—the Empire had surely identified the Falcon by now.
"Coming here was a bad idea." Leia drew her hood up farther around her face, ducking her head down.
"Well, we're stuck here until Chewie makes the repairs, sweetheart. We took more of a beating on Yavin than I realized."
"Don't call me that."
"Would you rather I called you 'Your Highness'?" Han murmured. "I could probably manage to say it loud enough for someone to hear, if you wanted—"
"Both of you stop." Luke's affection for both of them was wearing thin after days of bickering. Also, there were dark circles under his eyes that Han didn't care for. Something was still going on with him.
"Come on, let's at least find a decent place to stay," Han said.
It turned out that the three of them had very different opinions as to what constituted a decent place to stay. Even as flush as he was with the twins' credits, Han put his foot down and they settled for a suite that seemed impossibly luxurious to him, while barely meeting the Imperial standards.
After a brief tussle over who was first in line for the refresher with real hot water and sonics that were actual worthy of the name, Han flopped on a bed he'd swear was bigger than his quarters on the Falcon. To his surprise, Leia sat next to him. She'd been avoiding him since that last encounter between the three of them in the twins' bunk, where she'd made him (without much protest, admittedly) watch her and Luke together.
"Truce?" She smiled down at him and he sat up.
"Didn't think we were at war," he said, his tone easier than he felt.
"It's just been the two of us for a long time." Leia dropped her eyes to the rich brocade of the bedcover, trailing her fingers over the pattern. "Always, really. I can see that's changing."
"Listen, I don't—" He didn't what? He was already more attached to the kid than was probably good for his health—and given who they were and what they could do, that wasn't an overstatement. Han had absolutely no doubt that Leia could do away with anyone she perceived as competition for Luke's affections. He wouldn't be surprised if she had, in the past.
What did it say about him that knowing that made both the twins that much more desirable? It's a damned miracle you've lived this long, Solo. You have the self-preservation instincts of a rock. No, rocks are smarter. They lie still and don't attract attention.
"It's all right." She touched his hand and her smile was sweet enough that he didn't trust it, but it drew him in anyway. "That's between you and Luke. I'm more concerned about what's between you and me."
Han looked down to where she touched him, then looked back up to her eyes. "What's between you and me?"
"Why don't we find out?" Her voice was low with unmistakable meaning, her eyes flickering to his lips.
"I thought you didn't like me." Oh, he was definitely going to kiss her, but he might have to make her work a little bit harder for it first.
"You know better than that, Captain." Leia leaned a little closer.
"You got a funny way of showing it."
"Don't make me chase you," she murmured. "Come here."
Just like that, keeping away from her seemed like a terrible idea. Kissing her was the only thing he wanted to do, suddenly a compulsion where only a moment ago it had been just an urge. Han closed the distance between them, cupping the back of Leia's head to bring her to him. There was nothing tentative about her kiss; after a moment's contact her mouth opened to him and heat flared between them until it was less a kiss and more an attempt to devour one another.
Han wasn't sure if she pulled him or he pushed her, but they wound up sprawled across the bed, his body settling against hers. Leia had one hand tight in his hair while her other wriggled beneath his shirt, her fingers skating over his ribs. His mind whirled with all the ways she was both similar to and different from her twin. Softer, of course, but just as relentless as she twined her legs with his, pulling his hips in tight against hers.
Leia pulled on his hair hard, yanking his mouth away from hers and tilting his head to the side. It hurt, especially when her teeth found his neck, but it hurt in a way that made him want to rub his growing erection against her, to show her what she was doing to him. Even if she already knew.
A low whistle sounded from the direction of the refresher and Han jumped, in the middle of untucking Leia's shirt. "I should have left the two of you alone sooner," Luke stood in the doorway, hair still damp, wearing just a pair of black trousers.
"You don't mind, do you?" Leia's voice was soft and edged with desire. "He looked so good sitting there."
"I bet he did."
"Hey, kid." Han had to swallow before he could find his voice.
"Don't let me interrupt." Luke flashed him a grin that would've made him weak in the knees if he were standing up, then folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe.
"No." Leia held out a hand to him. "No one's just watching this time."
While Han was completely on board with that idea, seeing Luke clean and fresh and half-dressed reminded him that he'd been living shipboard for far too long. He kissed Leia before pulling away. "Not yet, it's my turn for hot water. And I'm guessing there's not room for three in there."
"Not even two," Luke confirmed.
Han left them both behind, reluctantly.