The next day, Anakin and Obi-Wan were eagerly joined in the sim room by Luke, whom they had invited knowing how much he enjoyed piloting.
"At least in a sim your reckless stunts won't come close to getting you killed," Obi-Wan commented amusedly to Anakin, who as a young man had pulled more reckless maneuvers than Obi-Wan believed himself capable of counting.
"I seem to remember a certain Jedi Master performing a few reckless stunts of his own," the other returned good-naturedly.
"Is talking all you humans do?" Luke inserted, the impatience in his voice probably inspired by too much time with Biggs and Wedge. "What about action?"
The two older Force users were quick to comply, bringing the guns of their simulated ships to bear on Luke, who easily dodged their blasts and let out a chuckle of triumph.
"A bit more difficult than I remember," Obi-Wan commented after a few minutes of failing to hit Luke's quickly maneuvering simulated ship.
Anakin smiled. "A bit more difficult without the Force, you mean." It was certainly more difficult for him with the ysalamir present than it had been in his TIE without the creature—still, it seemed to be doing its job in dampening his anger. His sim shuddered as his fighter was hit—such was the price of allowing himself to be distracted.
"I will get you yet, Luke," he laughed. The boy certainly did take after him in piloting ability, he thought with pride.
****
He wasn't supposed to be dead.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
He was supposed to be leading the Alliance. He was supposed to be reprimanding her for the reckless things she was doing. He was supposed to be smiling at her and telling her how much she looked like her mother.
He had loved life, promoted it, protected it. He had been so healthy and full of vitality—he was supposed to live for several more decades and spoil his future grandchildren. Death wasn't due to visit him this soon.
A numbness had spread throughout Leia's body. She didn't see the grim messenger who had come to deliver the bad news. She didn't feel Han's arms around her. She didn't hear his consoling words. All she could see was her father's lifeless face.
And then it all faded into black.
****
The sim games were cut short by Threepio's appearance and flustered explanation of the misfortunate event that had transpired. The talkative droid wasn't even allowed to finish speaking before Anakin fled the room with Obi-Wan and Luke.
Though he bore the ysalamir backpack, the former Sith Lord felt a strangely cool fire spreading throughout his body, touching him with its familiar tendrils of anger. Curse that blasted boy. This was the last thing Leia needed.
If the boy hadn't already killed himself, Anakin would be saving him the trouble. Bail was the one source of stability in Leia's life—he had performed the duty Anakin had been unable to. And now Bail—the young woman's true father, for Anakin could not fill that role—was gone, killed during the Rebel Alliance's most triumphant time, a time when at last his diplomatic skills could be used in full to fulfill a desperate need.
When Threepio finally led them to the room where Leia and Han were, they brushed by several faces wracked with concern and grief, two of which Anakin recognized as belonging to Mon Mothma and Garm Bel Iblis. Chewbacca was standing at the door performing crowd control, and few people seemed inclined to attempt to move past him.
They rushed into the room to find Leia unconscious on the floor with Han kneeling beside her. The smuggler looked more worried than Anakin had ever seen him.
"She passed out," Han stated quietly in explanation, though it was obvious what had happened. "We moved her here...Krethin' boy shouldn't have done that." His thoughts seemed to be paralleling Anakin's.
Obi-Wan looked a little shaken himself, but he ventured, "The boy was confused...Bail had to make a difficult decision Nial could never understand."
"You don't kill someone in cold blood," Han declared as he stood, his brow furrowed in anger. "Doesn't matter how confused you are."
Anakin felt his own rage building, but it was doing so slowly—without the Dark Side to enhance it, his anger lacked its former strength.
"Anakin," his master said softly. "Let go of your anger. It will bring you nothing."
It was much easier for Obi-Wan to give the advice than it was for Anakin to take it. He felt a burning hatred for the boy—how could he have killed one of his own family members?
But he also felt a hatred that was directed toward himself. How could he have killed Padmé?
Anakin stared down at Leia, remembering how he had felt when his mother had died at the hands of the Tuskens.
****
"Our contact says the songbird is crushed, sir," Pellaeon said quietly. He was speaking at the bridge, a rather public area, but his vagueness should ensure that none of the nearby officers would know what he was talking about even if they could hear him.
"Indeed," his superior replied simply, his red eyes glinting in satisfaction.
****
Leia was sitting alone in her room, staring blankly at the wall. They had finally left her alone, trying to give her some space. But she didn't need space. She needed her father back. That was all she wanted.
When Anakin came to her door, she called for him to enter. She didn't know why she let him come in. She certainly knew it was him, for he was the only one constantly followed by a Forceless bubble. Perhaps she let him come in because she knew she shouldn't be reaching for the Force to strengthen her emotions and she wanted the ysalamir to break her away from that blasted energy field. Or perhaps it was something else. But whatever it was, she asked him to enter the room.
He seemed just as unsure as she was, standing in front of the doorway awkwardly for a few moments before he finally spoke. "It may not matter, but I know how you feel."
Leia didn't move. She simply queried sotto voce, "How could you possibly know how I feel?"
He remained silent for several moments, and she began to wonder if he would simply leave and save them both the heartache, but he suddenly broke the quiet with a story which was told in a voice of pain and sorrow. "My mother was killed when I was around your age. She was...tortured by Tusken Raiders, and she died in my arms. I was angry...Angry at the Tuskens, angry at myself. After all, I had left her behind on Tatooine, and I had returned too late to save her. I killed everyone in the Tusken tribe—men, women, children—without a second thought. I allowed my hatred to consume me. I—do not make my mistakes, Leia." He released a soft sigh, closing his eyes. "Do not let anger take over your life...Remember the love that you held for your father and your cousin—remember that your cousin went through something no man should go through...Find forgiveness in your heart where I could not."
But how? Leia wanted to cry out. How can I forgive him for succeeding where the Empire failed? How can I forgive the fact that he destroyed the man who loved him unconditionally all his life?
Instead, she said nothing.
After a few minutes of silence, the former Sith Lord spoke uneasily. Strange, how she could make him, once one of the most feared men in the galaxy, ill at ease.
"Your cousin left behind a datacard with cryptic instruct—"
Leia interrupted, a hint of sorrowful eagerness in her voice, "Did he say anything about why he did it?"
Anakin shook his head. "No. He simply left us bare instructions. Obi-Wan is looking at the information right now and requested that I retrieve you."
His daughter stood up resolutely, swathing herself in a no-nonsense attitude. "Let's go, then."
****
Go to the planet with two bright orbs glaring down on a barren landscape. Look for the Skinwalker.
That was all the datacard said. Anakin hadn't been lying when he had called the instructions "bare."
Leia frowned in contemplation, trying to add any kind of significance to the two sentences. What exactly could it mean?
"I do not like this resemblance to your name," Obi-Wan said at last, looking at Anakin.
"It could be a coincidence," the latter man suggested.
"Not likely," Han inserted, shaking his head with an uneasy grimness. "I don't like the looks of this at all."
"I'm going to check it out," Leia said firmly. Her eyes were red, and her hair was a mess—it didn't take a Jedi to know she was still heartbroken over the death of her father and her cousin. But the resolve in her eyes was strong.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Leia, I think you should stay for your father's funeral and then return to Dagobah. We'll go to—"
"No!" Leia cried out. "Father would have wanted me to follow my cousin's last wishes."
"Your Worship, these are not your cousin's last wishes," Han said, gently lifting up her chin and meeting her eyes. "These are the wishes of a madman."
****
Chinnatah watched the smuggler's movements with interest, somehow feeling that there was a strange tenderness present. Could this be part of human courtship? Or was this merely the way friends expressed themselves?
Leia seemed to be trying to ignore the gesture. She began to speak but cut off as Mon Mothma walked in.
The older woman's eyes were just as red as Leia's were. "Leia, I wanted to tell you again—I'm sorry for your loss."
****
"I'm sorry for your loss."
The words were sincere, but they seemed flat to Leia somehow.
The princess bit her lip and looked down at the floor with a nod of acknowledgment. She felt as if she were equal parts rage and sadness—Anakin's words of warning were resounding in her head, but she couldn't put them into practice. She was in too much pain.
"I am sorry, Leia...But you need to be strong during this time," the red-haired woman continued. "The Alliance needs your strength—others are hurting, too."
"I can't even hold myself together," Leia laughed bitterly. "How can I be strong for others?"
"Leia, you are a pillar of strength," Mon Mothma said quietly. "You always have been...In fact, Garm and I think you should take your father's place—provided you are voted in, of course."
"What?" Leia couldn't keep the word from slipping out any more than she could hide her incredulity.
"We need someone to take up your father's leadership...You will be welcomed by Alliance members as the proper person to do so. Your father has been grooming you to take his place for a long time—now is the time for you to make him proud. I think it's what he would have wanted."
The young woman looked from Mon Mothma to Obi-Wan, torn in so many ways. She wanted to avenge her father's death—but couldn't. Going to Tatooine wouldn't change anything. Becoming a full-fledged Jedi would make Obi-Wan happy, but what did she think she needed?
"It is your choice," Obi-Wan said gently. She knew he would not stop her from staying. He might be disappointed if she never returned to Dagobah, but he would not try to convince her that her decision was wrong. He wanted her to make her own choices.
"I'll—I'll stay," Leia whispered at last. The decision was hard to make, but she was doing what she felt was right. It felt as if a part of her life were finally clicking into place.
"Me and Chewie will stay with you," Han offered before realizing what he was saying. Quickly, he added gruffly, "For a little while, at least."
Obi-Wan nodded, a slight sadness evident in his bearing. "I think the droids should stay as well. They may be able to help you."
"I've already talked to Winter," Mon Mothma told Leia kindly. "She is eager to serve as your aide."
Obi-Wan spread his hands. "We should leave early tomorrow morning. We would stay for Bail's funeral, Leia, but—"
"I understand," Leia replied quietly. "You need to find this Skinwalker before he disappears."
The Jedi nodded, hesitating a moment before moving to embrace her. "I think...your father would be proud."
The words cost him, Leia knew—she knew he felt he should give her a lecture on the importance of becoming a Jedi, yet he refrained for her sake...and for the sake of her father.
"Thank you, Obi-Wan," she whispered.
****
After they left the room, Chinnatah followed Obi-Wan.
"What is it, Luke?" the Jedi queried, throwing a glance over at him as he continued walking.
"I was—" the youth stopped for a few seconds and then started again, "—I was...wondering if Biggs and Wedge could come with us?"
Obi-Wan frowned. "It could be dangerous. They would be better off staying here. There is little of interest to them there."
The young man nodded, seemingly in acquiescence. A few moments later, however, he tried one more time: "One of—Biggs is from Tatooine."
That caused Obi-Wan to pause in curiosity. "He is? Do you think he might have heard of this Skinwalker?"
"I don't know," the other replied honestly. He was glad to have caught Obi-Wan's interest in the idea. He didn't like the thought of being forced to separate from his friends—separation always seemed to bring about bad things.
Obi-Wan rubbed his beard in thought. "Well, I suppose it cannot hurt to talk to him."
****
"I can never take his place," Leia said nervously, pacing the room. It was an hour before the emergency election meeting, and Han was pretty sure the young woman had nearly worn a hole in the ferrocrete floor.
"Take it easy, Leia," Han said, placing his hands on her shoulders and stopping her anxious movements. He looked her straight in the face. "They are going to bow down at your feet, princess."
Leia shook her head, avoiding his eyes.
"Hey," the smuggler said gently, placing a hand under her chin to lift her head. He knew she was hurting. He could see it in her stance, in her eyes...But he also knew that Mothma had instilled a glimmer of hope into her—hope that maybe she could fulfill her father's role.
"You're not going to be alone up there," he said reassuringly. "After all, there'll be a few nerf-herders silently cheering you on." He gave her his lopsided grin, bringing a hesitant smile to her face.
"Thank you, Han," she whispered, staring into his eyes. She shivered visibly.
"You're welcome, Your Worship," Han replied, moving his face closer to hers and pressing his hand on her arm.
Tilting her head and closing her eyes, Leia whispered, "Han—for once, just stop talking and kiss me."
"Your wish is my command," he smiled, meeting her mouth with his own.
This time, there were no droids nearby to interrupt their bliss.
****
When Luke and Obi-Wan found Wedge and Biggs, they discovered that the two pilots were nursing some suspicious-looking glasses and laughing a little bit more than was really necessary.
"Hey, Luke!" Biggs greeted in a half-yell. Wedge tried to shush him but then burst out into laughter again.
"Hey, Biggs," the former Tusken returned.
"What's up?" Wedge queried, only a slight slur audible.
"We—we were just talking about Tatooine," Luke explained hesitantly.
Biggs sobered up at the planet's name—they probably hadn't drank enough to be intoxicated, anyway. "Really? Why would you be talking about that dustball?"
"We need to go there for somewhat complicated reasons," Obi-Wan explained vaguely. "Luke tells me that you are from Tatooine."
"Yep. I used to live there with my guardians. My real parents were—well..." Biggs trailed off awkwardly.
"I lived briefly on Tatooine myself," Obi-Wan stated, volunteering the information without knowing why. The Force kept prodding at him, so he queried, "What are the names of your guardians?"
"Owen and Beru Lars," Biggs answered.
Obi-Wan felt his heart leap, and a strange thought—Is this what Luke would have been like if he had been raised by the Lars instead of Tusken Raiders?—passed through his mind. "I knew them," the Jedi said with thoughtful quietness.
The dark-mustached man shifted guiltily. "I haven't seen them in a while...I left them a message saying I would try to come visit sometime...But I, uh, haven't yet."
Obi-Wan felt his own share of guilt in regard to the Lars. It was his fault that their first adopted child had been taken away from them...
"Perhaps you should go with us to visit them," he heard himself suggesting. Instantly, he wanted to retract the idea, but Biggs seemed to be agreeing with it.
"Yeah, you're probably right," the dark-haired man said.
"I could go with you," Wedge suggested cheerfully.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "It could be dangerous. Besides, the Alliance needs pilots like you who are ready to jump into battle at a moment's notice. Taking away your friend could already be a strain on the Alliance..."
"Dangerous?" Biggs perked up, looking excited. Wedge merely looked sour at the thought of being left out.
Obi-Wan nodded. "We are looking for a man called the Skinwalker...Have you heard anything about him?"
Biggs shook his head. "I haven't, but Beru or Owen might have."
"I thought as much. But you are right—perhaps they know of something that could help us." The Jedi Master looked at Luke. "We should probably clear our departure with someone in the higher command. Certainly, we're going to need a ship to take since Captain Solo is staying here."
"Well," Wedge said reluctantly, "I hope you find what you're looking for."
Obi-Wan smiled at him. "Thank you."
"Come on, Wedge," Biggs mussed his friend's hair, "you know someone's gotta keep the rest of the Rogues in line."
Wedge grinned. "Well, it sure in space couldn't be you. You can never even walk a straight line, much less keep anyone else from crossing it."
"You wound me!" Biggs exclaimed, dramatically putting his hand over his heart as he stood. "But don't worry—I won't hold a grudge. I'll be sure to bring back a few vials of sand for you as a souvenir."
Obi-Wan noted the amused twinkle in Luke's eyes as he surveyed the pilot pair's interactions. Yes, perhaps it was good to bring one of them along. Though they may not encourage Jedi-like behavior, at least they could help teach the former Tusken what it was to be human.
****
Leia won by a nearly unanimous vote, taking over her father's position in the Triad. The vote probably would have been unanimous had not the ambitious Bothan Borsk Fey'la decided to stir up some dissent. Leia's victory felt somewhat hollow to her, though—no number of votes could relieve the ache she felt over her father's death, and she felt wrong celebrating anything at such a time.
After receiving great applause at her acceptance speech and talking with several politicians, Leia managed to escape the meeting. Winter, however, was close behind her.
"Leia," she said gently, walking beside the princess. "I hate to cast a shadow over your day, but...we need to discuss funeral arrangements."
The brown-haired woman nodded after inhaling deeply. "I know."
"I think that...he would want his funeral to be here. I am sure Alderaan will understand."
"You're right, Winter," Leia said softly. "I think he would be honored."
****
Knowing that Leia was busy, Obi-Wan went to Mon Mothma to ask for access to a ship. After he delicately explained their situation, she smiled. "How could I refuse to help the group that helped bring down Palpatine, much less such an esteemed Jedi as yourself? As a matter of fact, we have an available Lambda-class Imperial shuttle which we received upon Vade—Anakin's defection."
"That would be suitable. Thank you."
"You are welcome," Mon Mothma told him quietly. She studied him for a moment before talking again. "I was wondering something, Master Kenobi..."
"Yes?"
"Do you intend to help the Jedi rise again?" She watched him closely.
He hesitated. "I hope that the Jedi will rise again, but as you know, we are few in number...Leia has made the choice not to become a Jedi, and I cannot go searching the galaxy for candidates...My last hopes lie in Luke."
The wise woman asked carefully, "Do you think he is strong enough to take on the task you wish to entrust him with? Or do you fear that the Dark Side will cause his fall?" She sighed. "I do not wish to be demanding or cruel, but Force users can be very important in deciding the galaxy's fate—as we learned with the Old Republic. If you think this boy will become another Palpatine—if you even believe there is a good chance—then I must demand that you cease his training at once. I trust your loyalties, but I do not know this boy, and I am unsure if I will ever be able to trust Vader. I do want to trust them both, but for the galaxy's sake I must err on the side of caution."
Obi-Wan had watched her solemnly as she spoke, and he replied only when he was certain she was finished. "My judgment is not infallible, of course. No one's is. But I do know that I prefer to err on the side of Light—I think that Anakin is more focused now than he has ever been. He wants to defeat the Dark Side, to embrace the Light...But do not worry, for as a precaution, we have something in place that prevents him from using the Force. We hope it will aid him in his transformation. And as for Luke—I know that I cannot choose Luke's path for him. I cannot force him to become a Jedi, much less make him train Jedi. Perhaps I am being overly hopeful, considering my past errors, but...I do not believe the Dark Side is Luke's biggest threat. I think his problems lie more in seclusion...If he does begin to bring about the rise of the Jedi, he will be in the public eye. I'm sure that's part of what you're thinking about. I want to assure you that he will not be an embarrassment to the Alliance; he will be an asset. He will become one of the Alliance's heroes."
Mon Mothma nodded, offering him a smile. "Then I wish you all the best of luck."
As Obi-Wan began to leave, she called out to him, "Jedi Kenobi...May the Force be with you."
He smiled, dipped his head in farewell, and left.