Three – Three evenings
One
These room holds all her memories.
So does the whole mansion, actually. The view from the pillared terrace is familiar, and the sound of the waterfalls, of the whispering winds and the crackling fires in the room behind her. Padmé Amidala Naberrie Skywalker loved her home before she learned to love her planet and her people, and she has never regretted putting the latter before her own happiness again and again.
She just is unspeakably glad that every time she had to do it, her happiness followed her.
Smiling over her shoulder, she watches her husband of more than thirty years stop in the wide doors, his expression the mixture of awe, disbelief and overwhelming love she has come to know so well. This is the little boy who shivered, refusing to cry: Are you an angel? This is the cocky young man, annoying, over-protective and over-eager. This is the broken Jedi kneeling on the ground in front of her: I will kill you, Padmé, I will kill everyone. This is the man who carried his heart in his eyes when he held his children for the first time. This is Anakin Skywalker, Jedi, Grand Master of the Jedi Order, hero of the Old Republic, protector of the New.
"Someone's here to see you, Senator."
Padmé smiles, widely, as he walks over and presents her with a bundle of blankets and warmth. She takes the baby out of his arms, smiling and cooing at it softly. It gurgles, laughter like angel's whispers, reaching out for her with tiny fists.
"Look who's awake!"
Anakin leans over her and together they peer down at the tiny human being in her arms, swaddled in blankets and smelling sweetly of talcum powder, sunshine and laughter. He nudges the tiny fists with his.
"You should have seen Solo's face when he and Leia left. I almost expected him to turn back and refuse to leave."
She laughs at the images his words incite in her mind's eye. "Even the best lieutenants are only fathers."
"Yes, but come on – Han Solo, battle-hardened pilot, ex-CorSec agent, lieutenant in the New Republic military, who is afraid of nobody and nothing…"
"I remember a time when a Jedi Master who had fought a tyrant and stopped a Civil War didn't want to leave his infant children, either…"
He conveniently overhears her. "I mean, we are capable of taking care of a kid for one evening. It's not like we didn't raise two children already, and, if I might say, they did turn out rather well."
"That they did." Padmé laughs, and leans down to kiss Ben's cheek. "Are they still there?"
"No, Leia dragged him back to the Falcon, they were running late. We didn't want to wake you."
"She's not like her father in that regard, I guess."
"No." Anakin laughs, lightly, and kisses his wife's head. "She's exactly like her mother. Beautiful, smart and she takes no nonsense from her stupid husband."
"You hear that, Ben? Seems like your grandfather learned a lesson there…"
"You bet. I don't want to be skinned alive, after all…"
She manages to bury her elbow in his side, despite holding firmly on to the baby in her arms. One of the few advantages of being vertically challenged. "Keep it up and you'll have to fear that, and worse."
"Awww. I love it when you get feisty– ooooompf!"
Padmé can't help but laugh. "Stop it, Anakin."
Ben gurgles happily, too young to pull faces at them.
After dinner – there is milk for Ben and sandwiches for them – Ben opts out for an early night, Anakin excuses himself to take a comm call and Padmé begins stacking the used dishes. From a corner in the spacious room, Angelica, the house maid, appears, helping quickly and efficiently.
When they're done Anakin is still talking, his features pinched and worried, and Padmé busies herself with other things but stays close to him, just in case. And then she must have nodded off over what Anakin fondly calls her "daily reading assignment", because she wakes up when he sinks down onto the sofa next to her. She is so disoriented that she blinks, multiple times, her hand grasping for the material of his tunic. Anakin holds her until she is completely awake again.
"Hey."
"Hey." His blue eyes blink at her, worried. "Would you like something to drink?"
"Tea, please," she says, still fighting the last remnants of her dream. When he gets up to prepare some she follows him into the kitchen, still rubbing grit from her eyes.
"Are you alright?" Anakin asks her, his hands busy with the kettle. "Should I call the Doctor?"
"I'm fine," she says, and at his suspicious gaze: "Really, Anakin. I am fine. I think I had a dream." He is quiet, and she tries to remember the fractured images and fails. "A nightmare," she corrects herself. "I just… I can't remember. I think… Luke was in it?"
Anakin's spine stiffens. Almost imperceptibly, but she picks up on it immediately. "What is going on, Anakin?"
Being the wife of a Jedi Master is… trying.
"Nothing." He bites his lips, reconsiders at her glare. "Well. I'm worried, I guess. Maybe you picked up on that."
Padmé settles into a chair, leans her elbows onto the table and looks up at him. "Are you still worried about the girl?"
"The girl?" Anakin laughs, a tad incredulous. "Padmé, she's as old as Luke and Leia are."
"Yes," she consents, smiling. "But our kids will forever be our kids to us, and they're twenty-nine already."
"If you say so." He has long ago learned that arguing with her is of no use. Why should he, too? She usually is right. Anakin shrugs, and Padmé can see the worry in his eyes. "I don't know. I can't get a read on her. She's not a Sith anymore, possibly never has been, as unlikely as it sounds. And I can't really deny her request for training when she never received any official instruction. She is strong in the Force, that we know. Leaving her to run around untrained might be a risk. Then again, it might be not. I…"
His voice trails off as he places the cup of tea on the table in front of her.
"I am just worried something might happen, I guess."
"There is always something happening, love." Padmé wraps her fingers around the cup and looks up at him. "And she's a good girl."
"She tried to kill Luke, and said she'd kill Leia."
His voice becomes sharper, audibly so, and she can see the guilt he carries, the responsibility he burdened himself with. Padmé knows where he comes from – feels some of the same guilt, even – but she also knows that some burdens should not be shouldered. Or, at least, cannot be allowed to weight down on someone.
"But she did not, Anakin. She had the opportunity and she did not take it. Doesn't that prove something? You said that there is no darkness in her."
"I have been wrong before."
She can't help it: she snorts, decisively. "Are you comparing Mara Jade to Palpatine?"
That makes him grin, briefly. "No, thank the Force."
"So now she comes, three years later, three years in which there has been no new attempt on Luke's life. And she's asking you to teach her."
"Stupid, right? I know-"
"She worked with Luke on one or two occasions these past years, and she never once tried to kill him."
"Maybe she's playing the long game."
"But what for?" Padmé gazes out of the window, briefly wondering why she is defending Mara Jade. But it is simple, in a way. She likes her – liked her the moment she stumbled into their lives head-first, just so able to drag Luke's unconscious form with her to safety. "Don't you think she'd have killed us a long time ago if she really wanted it? She's not one hundred per cent trained, but she's also neither stupid nor weak. And I can't see her secretly hoping for another Dark Lord to rise. She watched her mother wither away under Palpatine's last command; she is not likely to ever follow one herself."
"Yes, but that doesn't mean she still won't snap one day."
Padmé reaches out to take his hand, loosely. "It must have been hard for her." He looks at her, his expression empty. "Coming to the very place her mother hated most, wanted her to destroy by any means necessary, and ask the man she has been taught to hate for instruction." And, when he still doesn't react, she carefully places her last piece: "Coming to this place where she knows she is not welcome, and far too different from anyone else, all by herself."
Anakin is quiet for a long time.
Then, he laughs, softly, his hand turning to squeeze hers lovingly. "I can't win against you, can I."
Ben's awakening saves her from having to reply to his usual, corny statements, so she just smiles and goes to pick him up. He is grumpy and needs a diaper change, and when everything is done he leans his head against her shoulder, sucks on his fist and mumbles contently.
Padmé carries him over to the window because outside, Naboo's spectacular sunset is just beginning to set the sky on fire. Ben abandons his sticky fist and begins playing with her hair instead. Anakin follows her and she can see it in his reflection: the way he is abruptly reminded of her holding a different baby. Two babies: their twins. But Luke and Leia have their own lives now, and, in Leia's case, their own baby.
They are grandparents.
On some days, it still sounds like a joke to her.
Anakin steps around her to open the balcony doors. The whisper of the winds in the meadows is a soothing background to the slowly darkening sky.
"Fine," he says, continuing their earlier conversation as if they never stopped. "She's welcome at the Temple anytime." His arm comes up around her.
Padmé turns her face into his shoulder, smiling. "Good."
Before Anakin can say anything else, Angelica rushes in, visibly flustered. Padmé really needs to talk to her about her crush on certain military men– "Senator, Lieutenant Solo and Lady Leia-"
She is immediately followed by Han, who rushes past her without waiting for her to finish.
"Ben, buddy! Daddy is back!"
Leia follows at a more sedate pace, grinning.
Padmé and Anakin exchange one glance and start laughing.
Two
"Mara Jade. Back off, slowly. Put your hands were I can see them."
There is movement behind her, the rustling of more people arriving, and Mara, facing the wall, puts down the ceraplast knife very, very slowly, lifts her hands and deliberately does not turn around.
"I mean it. Step away from the counter. Now."
This time she obeys the challenge, turning around, and uses her most derisive tone.
"You think you are so funny, Skywalker Solo."
Leia grins at her, half in-, half out of her coat. At her feet, bags and parcels are pooled, and Han takes his wife's coat as soon as she has discarded it and puts it on the racks. Well-trained, Mara thinks, approvingly, and focuses back on the main issue.
"I'm not joking. Remember the last time when you came into close contact with food that was meant for dinner?"
Mara rolls her eyes so strongly she feels slightly dizzy. "Calm down, you and Luke saved it. And besides, where is your faith? I can at least slice vegetables."
"Slicing is one of your major abilities," Han jumps in, cheerfully-sardonic, and Mara can't help herself: she shoots him an icy look.
"My skills have gotten rusty, though. Mind if I train on you a bit?"
Leia steps in, smoothly, always the diplomat. "As much as I enjoy this, I have to ask you to keep the physical damage tonight to a minimum. As for Han, Mara, I still am in need of his services, so please don't hurt him too badly."
Han leers. "So you have need of me, Mylady?"
"I can spare his face," Mara suggests, and Leia laughs.
"Yes, please."
Han grumbles, and disappears through another door. Mara helps Leia pick up all the parcels and packages, and what looks like enough comestibles to feed an army is soon piled up on the kitchen table.
"Stang, how many people have you invited?"
"Oh," Leia says vaguely, cross-checking the recipe on her data-pad with her groceries. "It's just us, and you, and Wedge and Iella, and Corran, Mirax, Tionne and Kam Solusar, Kenth Hamner, Cilghal, Wes Janson, Tycho Chelchu and Winter and…"
At Mara's horrified glance, she laughs again. Leia laughs a lot. It is… nice. There hasn't been much joy in Mara's life prior to the Skywalker clan. And isn't that ironic, too.
"Relax! No need to bolt. It's just me and Han and you tonight – and Luke."
Mara let all sentiments slip from her face. "I see."
Leia looks, honestly worried. "I am sorry. I wanted to have the two of you be able to relax in a quiet atmosphere. I know your interaction has been strained, lately-"
"It's been a few years since I last tried to kill your brother."
"I know, that's in the past. At first I thought, if Luke can forgive and trust you, I trust you, too. But it's not that. I trust you, Mara. You're my friend. Don't ever think something different, okay?"
It stings. The bond between the Skywalker twins – it is something Mara never had, never will have, most probably. She does not deserve this – being allowed to live, to come to the Temple, to learn and train and work with the Jedi. She does not deserve the trust they put in her, and yet… Yet, she cannot leave. This is what it must feel like to be caught in a Sarlacc's digestive system. Probably considerably less smelly, though.
Will Leia still insist on being her friend if she knows?
"Was it wrong?" Leia asks, unaware of the whole world of arguments running through Mara's head, and Mara, with a sudden, dizzying rush, once again realizes how much she likes this woman: this wonderful, brave, kind woman who cares for everyone, no matter how bruised and broken. "Shouldn't I have invited Luke?"
"No." Mara swallows the lump in her throat and prays the day will come that she will be able to tell her. "No, it's fine."
Leia looks relieved.
"So what's your plan?"
As usual, questions and the prospect of making plans cause the woman to jump into action. "I thought we could have some salad, Ithorian style, and then nerf steak stew with blue potatoes. And crêpes for dessert?"
"I rest my case. An army."
"Well. Luke and Han will finish it off, I promise."
"Okay. Tell me what to do to help you." And, at Leia's glance: "I can slice vegetables, really. I can even make a decent salad. Nothing to burn there."
Leia laughs, brilliantly. "I know. Go ahead with the salad, then."
For a while, they work side by side in comfortable silence. Mara feels it almost at the same time as Leia lifts her head, announcing: "Luke's there." A minute later, the door chime rings, prompting Han to storm from the living room.
"Luke!"
He enters like he always does, the presence that steals her breath on so many different levels, and Mara just – stops. Blinking, thinking. Breathing. He hugs Han, with the usual, manly back-patting thing. Then he grabs Leia, lifts her and whirls her around, and Leia laughs, bright-eyed. Finally, he walks over, his eyes cautious but warm.
"Mara."
She manages a nod. There's nothing else she can do. He doesn't touch her – the last time didn't go so well, and he's careful around her these days. It's the consideration she despises. His care and kindness. As if she is a broken thing that cannot be fixed, only be pitied.
"Ben's with Mum and Dad?" Luke asks his sister and she nods, laughing. "Han made a fool of himself again."
Han pretends to be busy opening the bottle of Alderaanian wine.
The dinner goes fairly well, and Mara finds herself enjoying the company the same way as always. Leia was right, she needs some calm, some peace. She might also need some distance from certain people, but – well. Anyway, the dinner helps her clear her head a bit – it doesn't make anything easier, but she can pretend it does – and she watches Luke joke with Han, and gently tease his sister, and Leia gives back as good as she gets because they are twins, and both Force-trained. And Mara can see the love they share floating around them in vivid colors, so warm and so bright it blinds her whenever she tries to look at it straight. The guys clean up and do the dishes, because the women cooked. Mara and Leia sit in the living-room, each with a glass of wine, and Mara thinks now, tell her, go ahead, and the only thing she says is "So Iella told me she doesn't think of Wedge that way." Leia scoffs, and rolls her eyes. Luke and Han join them, shortly afterwards, and she buries the thought again, deep, deep in the darkness of her own memories.
Nothing is ever buried and forgotten, though.
It would be sweet to say Luke accompanies her home. In fact, they simply have the same destination. Coruscant is incandescent at night, all steel and silver lights and velvet, Luke's presence next to her is familiar and she bathes in it, draws strength from it until she can't hold it in any longer. She wants to say Luke, I'm leaving the Temple, maybe make some half-baked excuses, even lie outright (I don't love you anymore, it's over). What comes out, instead, is:
"I'm pregnant."
He stops dead on the walkway, the lights behind him giving him a halo; he is shadow and light and everything in between that she is and is not, and so beautiful it hurts. Mara turns away and blocks out the Force bond that might or might not have been growing between them.
She cannot block out his reaction.
He doesn't even ask if he's the father. He just… soars, his presence in her mind lighting up like a candle in the darkness. It's so strong she can't stop it, can't run, can't hide, so Mara clings to the last remnants of her own control and buries everything she is.
Her lies make him waver. Something inside her crows in victory, while the rest of her is cold and still.
But his stubborn belief wins out, his instincts, his intuition, I don't believe that, Mara, you don't believe that yourself, and she is exultant – desperate – terrified. It's the worst idea ever, this started off as the worst idea ever and the best thing in her life and then she went and ruined it all.
"You are aware that there need to be two people for something like that to happen?" Luke asks her, his smile just so off, she offended him, hurt him, and she's immediately sorry. "Do you think I'd be a bad father?"
She thinks he is the only man in the world she wants as her baby's father, but she can't tell him that, can she?
"Mara." He frames her face with his hands and she is forced to look at him, and she loves him so much it hurts. "Do you love me?"
She doesn't answer.
But he knows – he reads it in her face, senses it in her presence, sees it in her eyes. The smile spreading over his face is exultant.
"Marry me."
She jerks back, startled. "What?"
"Marry me, Mara Jade."
"Why?"
"Should I feel offended? Because I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
"I am pregnant. People will think I conned you into a wedding."
"You are wonderful. And I don't care what people think, if they can't see you the way I see you, they probably don't think at all."
Terrified is more what she is, right now. But his voice is so certain – his Force presence so calm, so earth-shatteringly sure – there is no way she cannot believe him.
So she falls for him.
Again.
"I tried to kill you."
Do you know how much I love you?
He laughs, winding his arms around her and not flinching when she grabs the back of his tunic so tightly it has to be painful. "I actually expected you to tell me you were breaking up with me tonight. It did kill me, a little bit. Don't do that again, please."
"If you promise to not get into trouble in the future."
He laughs. "We will be just fine, my heart."
Three
"Bad idea. Bad, baaad idea."
Ben has been shaking his head since the twins found him in his little hideaway, blissfully reading about the history of Ryloth and its wandering inhabitants on the datapad he had smuggled into the banquet hall, and dragged him out and away for an adventure.
Ben rarely agrees with his cousin's idea of adventure.
Now, that doesn't mean that he doesn't like adventures per say – he does, actually, although he also likes to sit and read about dusty historic sites and beings that don't exist anymore, so the twins and he probably disagree on their definition of what the word adventure entails. But there also is adventure and there is adventure, and his cousins usually seem to attract the second kind.
"Oh, come on!" Jaina skips along the corridors, her curly hair half out of its confines and trailing behind her. She is wearing a dress – she rarely does, but she knows when she needs to.
Jacen follows Ben, equally energetic, his green eyes sparking. He is dressed similarly to Ben: a dress shirt, trousers and polished shoes. "Confess already, you were as bored as we were."
"I wasn't," Ben protests, caught in between his cousins leading him away from the large halls in which the large evening gala is still going on. "I was happily reading in my corner."
"I don't know why they brought us here in the first place." Jaina stops in front of a door and inspects it. It's closed, and Ben breathes an inaudible sigh of relief. "It's all these politicians discussing a possible alliance or whatsnot, we could have stayed at the Temple. At least we'd be able to watch holovids there."
"Weren't you the ones who refused to stay at the temple while the summit was being held?" Ben sounds resigned, because he knows the answer.
"Well." Jacen shrugs, but he does not look one bit repentant. "They should have forced us to stay, then. Aren't adults supposed to know what's best for kids?"
The twins have the weirdest reasoning, like, ever. Ben's just two years older, but he can see why so many teachers speak of them (in hushed voices, of course) as the bane of their existence. Which, by the way, is a nice term they taught him there, and he has adapted it for his own use already.
"Jay, wait."
Jacen has stopped behind them and is glimpsing out of the window. It's already dark outside, the corridor is dim and unlit, and although Ben's eyes are adjusting to the little light his cousins are mere shadows.
"What is it?" Jaina returns, the bounce clear in her step.
"I think I saw something-"
"Oh, was it one of those bat-like things again?"
"Yes, I think so."
They lean out of the window dangerously and Ben hovers, just in case.
"I saw them over the towers yesterday. They're brilliant fliers. Seemed to be the younger ones, though, I wonder where the elders were."
"And there were some in the caves when they took us on that tour two days ago, but they had a different wing shape-"
"Dad says he felt sentience in them, maybe they can communicate with us-"
"Do you think I could tame one? We could take it back to Coruscant, as a pet, that'd be so cool-"
"I don't think the Qom Qae would appreciate being taken away," a voice offers, next to Ben's elbow, and all three children jump.
Ben feels the twin's surprise, alive and naïve, and pushes himself in front of them. He doesn't have a light saber yet, Uncle Luke won't let him build one until he is fourteen no matter how much he pleads and coaxes and promises. But he gathers the Force around him, stretches his senses in alarm and preparation and waits for his eyes to adjust.
The newcomer stands with his face towards the window, but Jaina's and Jacen's figures are blocking the light.
"Who are you?" Ben demands.
"I did not mean to startle you." The voice is calm, and young, and then a light flashes up and the corridor comes into focus. A boy is standing there, his dark hair combed back stiffly, his hands clasped behind his back. "My name is Jagged Fel. You are with the New Republic's delegation."
Ben nods. "And you?"
"Confederacy."
Even if Ben hadn't read everything he could get his hands on about the New Republic's history, he would have heard of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, the separatist faction that left after it lost the civil war against the forces of the Galactic Republic. Even if Ben hadn't read at all, he would recognize the name Fel: he was the son of Leia and Han Skywalker Solo, after all, and the grandson of Padmé and Anakin Skywalker, Heroes of the Republic. Among the followers of the Traitor Chancellor had been a Soontir Fel, one of the best fighter pilots of his age; who had defected to the New Pepublic, had met and married Wynnsa Starflare Antilles, and then… had diappeared. This… could be his son, possibly.
"Hapes Cluster."
A girl steps out of the boy's shadow, her hair almost the same shade of copper as Jacen and Jaina's. She's in an elaborate dress – there are gemstones in her hair and on her wrists – and Kriff, Ben hasn't felt her, either.
"You!" Jaina's eyes light up at the sight of the girl. "I saw you in the gardens yesterday, what were you doing? Training?"
The girl looks back at them with careful grey eyes. "It is a Dathomiri sword dance my mother taught me."
This, apparently, is Jacen's cue. "Awesome! Have you been to Dathomir? Have you seen a wild rancor? They say they are larger and more feral than the jungle rancors of Felucia-"
He stops short at the simultaneous glares the girl and the Fel boy grace him with.
"Ignore him," Jaina breaks into the one-sided conversation again, still focused on the girl. "Those moves, can you teach me?"
The girl blinks, looks at the boy. He shrugs, and she turns back to Jaina. "Why not?"
Ben suddenly has the uncomfortable feeling that they are currently collecting half of the future generation of all major players in the game of politics the New Republic is currently immersed in, so he lets it go quickly.
"Maybe tomorrow? It's dark, anyway."
Thankfully, Jaina is open to reason tonight, maybe because he agreed to join the twins on their adventure.
"Tomorrow, then!" She skips around her twin and Ben and grabs the girl's hand. The girl flinches back first but then calms, and Ben – Ben now can feel her in the Force. She must be Force-sensitive, too. When he stretches out to Jagged again to make sure, there is nothing.
"So what were you doing?" Jagged asks, carefully modulated.
"We were exploring!" Jacen tells him, cheerfully. "I'm sure there is a secret passage somewhere here. The base looks like it is carved from stone. There might be a cave system underneath, or some hidden corridors in the walls… They're far too thick, anyway."
"There is a passage behind the next tapestry," Jagged supplies, and even the Hapan girl perks up.
"Where? Where does it lead? Show us!" Jaina demands, already making her way past them, her hand still holding on to her – new friend, Ben supposes. Jaina makes friends easily.
Sometime later they indeed are in the middle of a hidden passage, dust puffing up underneath their steps, cobwebs clinging to their clothes. Jacen has a smudge of dirt on his nose. The Hapan girl's dress looks seriously crumpled, but she does not seem to care. Jagged's white shirt still is spotless, however is he doing this? But Ben feels the joy of discovery race through his veins, too, and he carefully follows the younger kids, making sure they stay together.
The corridor leads past the banquet hall. There are little slits in the wall, and they can watch the adults inside the room talking and sipping their drinks. Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara are dancing, Aunt Mara is scowling but there is laughter in her eyes. Ben sees his mother at the far side, talking to an elegant lady wearing a dress that is very short and vaguely looks like it is made from animal hide. They spend some time watching and – in Jaina's and Jacen's case – giggling, and the Hapan girl slowly warms up to them (Jacen's jokes she does not get, but that does not seem to matter), and Ben and Jagged find common ground when they talk about starfighters. At one point it gets boring watching the adults, though, so they continue on and find an intersection, and Jagged confesses he never went further than here.
"Let's go right," Jacen decides, and they follow. The corridor leads upwards, slightly, and then straight on without too many twists and turns, and then down a long staircase. There were little slits in the wall before, letting in some light. At this point it gets dark and they have to rely on touch. They form a line and continue on, both giddy and more careful.
"Here's a- wait, a door," Jacen hisses. "It's –"
And because the door opens without a sound, and because all of them are leaning forward to see what he sees, they tumble straight into the room, brightly lit and warm.
It is empty, thank the Force for small favors.
"Wheew," Jaina says and looks at their surroundings. "Looks like a locker room or something?"
"One of the guard rooms," Jagged says. "I never knew there was a second entrance in here."
The door they have come through closes with a thud, and they whirl around. Ben sees Jaina and Jacen exchange glances, and he gets a really bad feeling.
"Ehm, guys?"
Jaina searches for a handle, but the door seems to have merged seamlessly with the wall again, invisible most probably because it is a secret passage. She pulls a face. "Karabast."
The Hapan girl straightens her dress and marches to the other door. "Then we leave through this one-"
She hits the opener. The door remains closed.
Jagged grimaces. "You need a key card to enter or leave these rooms."
"That's stupid," Ben argues. "What if there's an alarm and someone is caught in here?"
"In case of an alarm, all doors open automatically. In most parts of the base, at least."
"Oh."
They look at each other in silence, until Jaina starts giggling. "Well, that's a fine pickle."
Jacen grins at her. "You want to call Dad?"
"Sure as hell not."
Ben sighs and walks over to the door, pulling out a set of microscrewdrivers from his pocket. "Let me try something."
"You know your way around locks?" Jagged asks. He seems calm, too, and the Hapan girl just shrugs, so he guesses he does not need to brace himself for a panic attack from either of them. Jacen and Jaina, he knows. They're having way too much fun.
"I know my way around electronics. Never tried to crack an electronic lock, though."
"Well, worth a try."
The twins busy themselves with going through the room's contents with the Hapan girl, while Jagged – who most likely knows everything in here already – watches Ben. When the twins have nothing left to investigate, they sneak up behind him again.
"How long's that going to take?"
"We should hurry, Mum and Dad could come looking for us anytime. Aunt Leia and Uncle Han, too."
"Hey." He works without turning his head, using his screwdrivers to lift a bunch of wires that look, frankly, like cable salad to him. But he can feel them humming with static, and purpose. "Don't rush me. Someone got us trapped in here, and as sure as Tatooine is a desert planet it wasn't me."
"All of his father's skill…" Jacen says, sighing mournfully.
"And none of his mother's subtlety!" Jaina thrills, completing her twin.
Ben shoots them a pained look. "You sound like Uncle Luke."
"Like Aunt Leia, actually." Jacen smirks at his cousin, who only rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and carefully continues probing the door barring their exit.
Distantly, he can feel the Hapan girl trying to sort out his cousins. He wishes her luck, he's known them since their birth and they're still an unsolvable riddle to him, even though he loves them dearly. He keeps his eyes on the cables, not wanting to lose the right one, scrambles for the microtweezers on the floor next to him and feels it being pushed into his hand.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Jagged is so quiet he almost disappears, and Ben has an idea how he was able to sneak up on them earlier that night.
"Okay. Here goes." He presses the tweezers down, and the kids hold their breath collectively.
There's a discharge somewhere in the depths of the electronic lock, some sparks fly – they jump backwards, Ben landing on his behind rather unceremoniously, while Jagged catches Jaina and Jacen and the Hapan girl never even budges. The door hisses open and reveals a pair of feet, no, two – two people. Many people.
Ben swallows.
"Hi, Mum."
His mother is looking down at him without any expression in her face, and for once he cannot feel amusement bubble within her. Ben swallows again. There is a tall, grey-haired man next to her wearing a stark-white uniform, and the man's gaze goes to Jagged immediately. His voice is almost a growl.
"Jagged. I told you to stay put."
Jagged bows his head. "Yes, Father."
Uncle Luke is behind Mum and General Fel, his smile open and warm. "I believe I told you something similar."
The twins look at each other, and, sensing the situation, keep their mouths firmly shut.
"Your mother is waiting for you, Tenel Ka," Mum says, and there is warmth in her voice. So she is not angry, Ben thinks, relieved. The girl – Tenel Ka – turns to Jaina. They exchange glances – tomorrow – and the girl walks of, poised and graceful. She is joined by two women in uniform-like gear who line up behind her, bodyguards? Jup, definitely not a simple girl.
Ben feels his mother's hand on his shoulder, warm, familiar, and leans into her for a second.
"The commotion they have caught ought to be punishment enough," she says to the strict man in uniform. "And I apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you for this evening, General. Have a good night."
"Good night, Lady Skywalker Solo. Master Skywalker."
"General Fel."
Jacen and Jaina follow her and Ben, Uncle Luke close behind. Ben glances back at Jagged and nods, and the boy nods back. As soon as they are out of earshot, Uncle Luke grins and pats the twin's head, and they bury under his arms, leaning into his side.
"You created quite a ruckus there."
Mum has no need to be diplomatic anymore, and her smile is warm and familiar. She's not angry, and neither is Uncle Luke. For a second, Ben wonders: will it be the same for Jagged and Tenel Ka? Do they have parents like the Skywalker kids have, too? Because for him, this is it, the reason why he never once was afraid tonight, never doubted, for a second, that everything would be alright. He knew his mother would find him. For the twins, it is the same.
"And however you managed to convince the son of the Confederacy's head diplomat and the daughter of the Hapan crown princess to play hooky I would love to know."
The guest quarters are next to each other.
At their respective rooms, Jaina, Jacen and Ben exchange glances, the twins tucked against their father's side, Mum's arm around Ben's shoulder, and the smile they share is equal parts content and expectant.
Tomorrow.
They dream of a large base full of nooks and crannies to hide and play in, of a Hapan princess who teaches them a sword dance and a general's son who discusses starfighter models and watches, hawk-eyed and quiet.
Together.
The Force whispers, peacefully.
