A/N: Kleenex alert! Don't tell me I didn't warn you!
The Celchus transport took off, leaving only the two of us behind. Slowly I walked up to Myri and gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders as we stared up at the sky through the bay doors. I knew that at some point in my life I would have to pay for the way I had treated Gwen Celchu. Breaking up with her had made me feel hollow and empty. I had a bad feeling about this.
Our becoming a couple officially turned out to be less fulfilling than I had always thought it would be. The whole episode with Gwen had scarred us both and took some time to get over. For my part, I had loved her. Perhaps not with the same intensity and passion as I loved Myri, but in my own way, I had. I missed her. Myri, too, suffered from a guilty conscience. I could see that. Friends and family were shocked, to say the least.
"You dumped Gwen?! How? When? Why?!"
"Wait... you and Myri? Myri Antilles?! Again?!"
"You feeling alright, kid? Are you sure about this?"
"Son, you know I've never interfered with your relationships, but I don't know if what you've done this time is entirely a good thing."
I heard them all out, weary though I was with the continuous judgement. Jag took the two of us aside.
"Are you two sure you want to do this?" he asked, in his usual measured tone.
This time Myri snapped.
"For kriff's sake, Jag! Has anyone happened to notice that the two of us are adults? We know what we're doing! Swell timing for you to start acting all big brotherly-"
I cut Myri off mid-tirade.
"Myri's right, Jag," I said, all Jedi calm, refusing to give in to my irritation as Myri was.
"We aren't here asking for anyone's permission. We came to this decision together and we did what we had to do. I'm sorry if any of you have any objections to this, but it's happening. Both of us have waited far too long to be together."
I was polite but firm. A lot of lips pursed around me, but they all uniformly realized it was no use arguing. Jag looked at the two of us for a while. I met his gaze evenly while Myri glowered. Finally, he gave us a curt nod and stepped aside. I softly breathed a sigh of relief and reached down for Myri's hand.
Finally.
I trailed a finger down her arm, resting loosely on my belly, rising and falling to the rhythm of my breathing. Myri shivered involuntarily.
"Mmmmm...Don't, Ben! That tickles!"
I grinned mischievously.
"Tickles, eh? Let's see if you tickle in other places, too!"
She started to scream. I quickly plunged in with a kiss, stifling her cries. She relaxed and my fingers forgot what they had been doing, reaching up to tangle in her short mussed-up hair. We lay on top of each other, silently savouring our long, deep kiss, the passion that had driven us for most of the night beginning to make itself felt once more. Our lovemaking was silent and slow, very slow, each movement prolonged to stretch out the moment. We fit. Our bodies were meant to be together, enmeshed as one. I realized that perhaps I actually preferred non-Force sensitive women, so I could concentrate on one plane at a time. Myri lazily pulled me in with a soft moan, squeezing the breath out of me so I gave a soft 'oomph'. I nuzzled her neck, breathing in her natural scent, nipping at the soft flesh till she batted my face away. I looked deep into her eyes and saw the love I felt I had waited forever to see. I kept looking into them, unable to quench my thirst for her love, until I saw her pupils constrict in surprise and felt her body spasm around me. She whispered her given name for me, softly in my ear and I felt my own release.
"Oh, Red..."
"I love you, Myri."
I was unable to hold it back any longer. I wanted this, I wanted to let go of my shields and finally be able to open up to the full extent of my feelings for her.
She pulled back and smiled, warm and melting.
"I know."
"I don't ever want to lose you again."
She lifted her hand, stroking my hair, her voice full of emotion.
"You won't, baby. Never again."
Considering what happened next, she might as well have stabbed me in the heart and ended it all right then.
Wedge Antilles marched home in a white-hot blinding rage. He had just had a rather extended comm session and only listened for the most part. His emotions had ranged from shock to dismay to concern and had finally settled on live anger. He punched in the access code to his apartment on Coronet City with much more force than was strictly necessary, and then froze on the doorstep.
There were faint sounds of trilling laughter coming from the kitchen. A deep frown formed on his brows and he went forward slowly, hand hovering near the blaster hidden at all times on his belt. The sight that met his eyes at his destination did absolutely nothing to soothe his already frayed nerves. His younger daughter was casually lounging against the counter with a mug of caf in her hand, an oversize flight jacket over her tank top and shorts while a bare-chested red-haired young man sat at the kitchen table, also cradling a mug of caf, his back turned to Wedge. He had evidently caught them in the middle of an amusing conversation.
Myri's eyes widened at the sight of her father standing in the entrance-way.
"Daddy!" she exclaimed in surprise, rushing forward to throw her arms around him, her eyes sparkling.
Wedge could feel a vein throbbing at his temple.
"Myri," he acknowledged, wishing he could feel more cheerful about having his daughter return home after such a while.
"When did you get back?" he asked.
His eyes were fixed on the young man who had half-turned towards him and was flashing him a lopsided half-grin, and looking awkward and self-conscious at having been caught shirtless in front of his new girlfriend's father.
"Hey, Uncle Wedge."
Both youngsters soon seemed to notice that Wedge did not appear very happy to see them.
"Daddy?" Myri asked, a slight frown forming on her brows.
"What's wrong?"
"What's he doing here?" Wedge asked, indicating Ben with a brief nod in his direction.
"I invited him over. He was dropping me home."
"Why are you wearing his jacket?"
Ben blushed furiously in embarrassment.
Myri raised her eyebrows.
"You really want me to answer that, Dad?"
"Never mind."
Wedge shook his head, as if trying to get rid of a very disturbing mental picture.
"Give him his jacket back. He's leaving."
Now it was Ben's turn to look surprised.
"Oh?"
Myri' s voice had markedly cooled and she was looking defiantly at her father, her arms crossed over her chest.
"I don't believe either of us were aware of that."
"Myri."
Her father's tone held a distinct edge of warning to it, but his daughter was far too stubborn to heed it.
"What's your problem with him, Daddy?"
"I would prefer to discuss that with him and not you, Myri."
Wedge refused to bend before his daughter.
Ben came up to the two, their eyes still locked in a silent battle of wills. He gently prised his jacket from Myri's shoulders and asked with genuine concern,
"What's up, Uncle Wedge?"
Wedge now directed his gaze towards the young man, now fully clothed.
"Myri, I'd like to speak with Ben alone, please."
The flash of hurt and astonishment in her eyes was unmistakable.
She opened her mouth to protest, but Wedge said firmly, "Please", in a voice that brooked no dissent.
Myri glared daggers at her father, then looked at her boyfriend, still regarding the former perplexedly and then whirled and stomped out of the room.
Uncle Wedge's eyes held none of the usual affection they had hithertofore always held for me. I had honestly been rattled by this sudden interruption and his rather strange behaviour towards us. I stood before him, frowning slightly at the barely suppressed hostility I sensed coming from him.
What in the world had gotten into him?
"I received a comm before I came here."
His voice was outwardly calm.
"I'm afraid it was rather bad news."
My heart jumped into my throat and immediately my mind went to the worst case scenario: Had something happened on Coruscant? To Dad? Aunt Leia? Uncle Han? Jaina?
Uncle Wedge was still measuring my reaction.
"From Tycho."
This time my heart took the opposite direction and plunged into my boots. I felt my hands go cold.
Had Uncle Tycho contracted him to shoot me instead?
"I heard what you did to Gwen. Poor girl's inconsolable."
I looked away, wincing in guilt.
"I don't want you near my daughter, Ben."
He said it flatly, finally.
My heart almost stopped. I looked at him with undisguised shock.
"What?"
It came out as a croak. But instantly another incredulous voice chimed in.
"Wait. What?!"
It came from beyond Uncle Wedge's shoulder. Apparently Myri had disobeyed a direct order. Being a former military man, this did not go down well with Wedge Antilles. His head snapped around and he barked,
"What did I tell you, young lady? I'm having this conversation in private!"
"Oh no you're not. Not when it concerns me."
She stood her ground resolutely, refusing to back down even under the anger of her father.
"I'm not a child anymore, Dad! You can't dictate who my friends should be!"
Uncle Wedge turned back slightly and passed a withering gaze up and down me, making me wish the apartment floor would dissolve and drop me straight into space. His tone was uncharacteristically snide.
"According to my information, he would seem to be more than just a...friend, Myri."
Myri bristled.
"That's still none of your business, Dad!"
Uncle Wedge raised his eyebrows.
"You're my daughter. That makes this my business," he pointed out
"No it doesn't! I'm 28 years old! You can't tell me who I should date!"
"If they're trouble, if they have amassed the reputation this young man has, then yes, I can. And I will."
Myri took one more step towards the retired General, this time with a plea.
"Dad, what he did... he did because of me! For me! He loves me, Daddy! He would never hurt me!"
Uncle Wedge stared her down with the same unnerving calm he had been employing on me.
"I heard about your role in all this too, young lady, and I promise you, we shall talk about it later. But as of right now, I want this young man out of my house."
I attempted to intervene, this fresh betrayal of trust still sore and rankling.
"Uncle Wedge... how-how can you do this to me? You know what I went through! You-you fought with my dad! He's one of your oldest friends!"
"Tycho Celchu is my closest friend and any man who hurts his family has lost my respect."
I dared to snort in his face.
"Really, Uncle Wedge? There was a time I seem to remember the two of you were ranged on opposite sides, in a galaxy at war!"
A muscle moved in the man's jaw and I could see it was taking a lot of effort for him to keep his voice level.
"Get out of my house, Skywalker. And don't you even dare try contacting my daughter again."
Myri grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door, her voice soft but seething with outrage.
"Come on, Ben. We're leaving."
Wedge Antilles sighed and asked after us wearily.
"Where do you think you're going, Myri?"
She didn't even deign to answer, her hand reaching out to punch the access pad.
His voice came to us again, softer this time, but the words he spoke were lethal.
"Myri Antilles. You take one step out of this house with that boy and I swear upon my name that you will forsake your place in it... and in my heart."
She froze. My hand dropped from her grasp. She turned to face him slowly, stunned beyond words at what his words implied.
"D-Daddy?"
I could almost hear the tears in her voice.
Her father stood his ground, irresolute.
"Y-you can't!... Daddy, what?! How-how can you even say something like that?!"
"Because I mean it, Myri. Every word. You want to try me?"
Myri moved towards him, completely shaken. I looked on helplessly. There was a roaring in my ears and I couldn't hear what father and daughter said next. All I remember is that she was walking back towards me, a torrent of tears bathing her cheeks, not even lifting her face to meet mine.
"You have to go, Ben."
I wanted to grab her and run away. I reached out to her, but she just stood there stiffly, making no response to my gesture.
"Myri, we..."
"No, Ben. Just-Please, go."
She was crying. It was happening again. All over again.
"Myri, don't do this!"
I was crying, too, and making no effort at restraining myself.
"Don't let him do this to us!"
I would have fallen to my knees and begged, if I could have hoped to make a difference.
"I won't listen if it's just him, Myri. I-I'll come back for you! I'm not afraid."
"No...it's not just him...I-I don't want to see you anymore..."
"Myri! You can't mean that! Not-not after everything-!"
She cut me off, her voice devoid of all life and all feeling.
"I'm sorry, Ben. Please don't call me anymore. Please. Just go away."
"No! I won't! I won't leave you here! Not this time, not again! No!"
She stalled me again with her soulless eyes.
"I'm sorry. But he's my father."
I backed away slowly, reeling, looking at her looking at me, with horror. I couldn't feel, hear anything. I just kept staring at her white face, tears streaming down, watching me. I tried to call out to her, one last time, to reach for her. But my legs seemed to be staggering back of their own accord, my insides crumbling, my heart ripping itself to shreds.
I simply turned and ran. And ran and ran and ran.
Luke Skywalker was browsing through the Temple Archives when he felt the hot, searing flash of pain. His head snapped up and his eyes went very wide. He left the Archives at a run, making for the Temple hangars, nearly barrelling into another slight figure heading the same way.
"Luke!"
"I know. I felt it too, Leia."
"What-?"
"I don't know. But I've got to get to him. Fast."
They found him in a rundown public medcenter curled up into a tight ball. Luke ran to him.
"Ben! Are you alright? What happened?"
His aunt sat down on the bed next to him, gently stroking his hair. His shoulders heaved in silence.
"Ben, sweetheart, it'll be ok. You're coming home with us."
Luke knelt by the bedside, but his son turned his face away. And that's when he saw his hand, clenched tight, half hidden underneath his body. It was lacerated and streaming blood, crudely bound up in what looked like dirty rags. He reached for it. Jagged shards still protruded from his palm.
"Ben," he asked in an appalled whisper.
"What have you done to yourself?"
His son turned then to face them, tear-stained and smudged with blood, his eyes puffy and red-rimmed, but curiously empty.
"It's ok, Dad," he said, his voice hoarse and dry.
"I can't feel it anymore."