As I sat anxiously staring at the battle console, I was stunned to see a red blip disappear. Then another one. The TIE fighters were being destroyed! The center one, carrying Darth Vader, spun out-of-control and vanished off the side of the screen. A loud yell filled the sound system and I was astonished to hear Solo's voice yell, "You're all clear, kid, now let's blow this thing and go home!" He came back! Han came back! My heart flew to my throat.

Luke fired. My heart pounded. It had to go in. I could feel every drop of blood pulsating in my veins. The blips signifying the few remaining Rebel fighters flew away, but my gaze remained on the huge ball standing for the Death Star. I thought time stood still for a moment. All at once, the Death Star vanished. A loud cry filled the room. "Great shot, kid, that was one in a million!" Solo's voice cheered.

Several minutes later, as the X-wings landed, everyone in the Rebellion rushed to greet them. I brushed past Threepio and squeezed my way to the front. "Luke! Luke!" I threw my arms around him, both of us laughing hysterically.

"Luke! Luke!" Solo's voice came. He hugged Luke.

"You came back!" Luke exclaimed.

Han ruffled his hair. "You don't think I'd let you take all the credit and take all the reward!"

"I knew there was more to you than money!" I cried and threw myself on him, hugging him.

We suddenly noticed Artoo being lowered from the X-wing. The droid was blackened and a red liquid that reminded me of blood was covering him.

"Artoo!" Threepio whimpered. "Artoo! He must be repaired! Sir, if any of my gears would be helpful, I'll gladly donate them!"

"He'll be alright." Luke reassured him. Han and Luke linked arms over my shoulders and, my arms wrapped around each of them, we joyfully walked away, me between my two favorite people in the galaxy.

***

I have no idea how I talked Han into it. It took more diplomatic skills for him than it took for a stubborn Bushnark bent on eating man-flesh. But he had finally agreed, and that was all that mattered. I could tell he still was not happy about it, even as he walked down the aisle in new clothes. (I had insisted he get new ones, and he insisted they be like his old) Luke had a new jacket on, and the two of them walked toward me with Chewbacca behind them. The Rebellion's soldiers stood at attention on either side. The three heroes reached the platform where a few others and I stood. Commander handed me a medal that I hung around Luke's neck. He grinned. I smiled back. I moved to place another medallion around Han's neck. He winked at me. I had to try not to laugh. A whistle sounded at my right side and I turned to see Threepio, who had been polished until I could see my reflection, and Artoo beside him, fixed and looking like new. I couldn't help but smile and as Chewie roared and everyone clapped and cheered for them.

The princess pulled it off. She and her Rebellion destroyed the Death Star. But it doesn't matter. The Empire still lives, as it always will.

I see Padmé's face, and her brown eyes, caught in the reflection of Organa's. They frown at me.

I ignore them.

Padmé is dead.

There is a new threat, more than Organa's weakling Jedi skills. She is nothing compared to this man—no boy—who destroyed the Death Star. His power dwarfs hers, even as mine dwarfs his. I could feel it. Thousands of times more potent than Organa could ever hope for.

Now I know why he is more powerful than she. I have learned his name.

Luke.

Luke Skywalker.

My son.