It wasn't the same. The base was bigger, busier. There were so many life forms, so many Luke had never seen before. Leia had. Han had, too. Han would tease him, he knew. He felt a rueful smile, thinking about that.
The hangar bay was almost the same. His X-wing resided there, patient and waiting. Techs were all about; again there were many that were not human. But that was ok, he told himself. That was good, even. He was the farm boy; all the Force lessons in the world wouldn't prepare him for extra eyes or appendages or skin scales or fur. Experience would teach him that, and he was getting it here on Home One.
The sense of fun was gone, though. The hangar bay used to be fun, he remembered. The pilots and techs spent more than just shifts here. They gathered to play games, to chat, make music. They used to gather around the Millennium Falcon, if Han was there, working for more than a shift, just tinkering, as he had called it. And the pilots would gather around, to see the modification, to share stories, techniques, to learn. But the Falcon was gone, now. And Han was gone too.
Luke bit back bitterness. So much had changed. He wanted it back. He wanted levity, camaraderie, teamwork. He wanted to be young, and carefree, and he didn't want this burden of guilt.
He stood in the corridors, wondering which way to go. He'd only been in the medical bay since his arrival and was still finding his way around. He felt lost in more than one way. He searched for Leia. They hadn't really talked since their return to base, and really not much at all on the Falcon. Leia told him to sleep, told him it was healing. He did at first, but then lying there just brought the horror of his encounter with Darth Vader to the forefront of his mind and sleep was hard to come by. He sensed when Leia flitted by to check on him that she didn't want to talk either, so he feigned sleep, not wanting to force conversation.
He had wanted to tell her my father cut off my hand when Lando brought him to her on the Falcon but couldn't bring himself to admit that, and he couldn't even say Darth Vader's name without the word 'father' screaming in his brain, so all he said was, "I lost my hand." Leia had sobbed openly when she saw his wound, sobbed like she'd lost a part of herself too. Maybe she had. He'd only learned moments later that Han had been taken.
Luke's experience on Bespin had cost him so much more than his hand. For the first time he was full of self-doubt. The Force withered inside him and he cowered at trying to use it. He'd always wanted to believe the Force had found him; found him willing and eager, forged a partnership born out of his desire to do good. Instead he learned it came to him by birthright, tainting itself. The revelation of his father's identity bothered him far more than the loss of his hand, but he couldn't help looking at the hand and seeing Darth Vader. My father did this.
Leia also seemed to be in flux, like a misdirected nocturnal insect hitting at a candle flame. Her role on base had changed. She spent a lot of time in the medical ward, visiting the wounded. She was able to absorb their pain, take it inside her, help them relieve them of theirs. Luke was struck by the change in her. Instead of focusing on the ideology of the big picture, it was now on the small to the big. He wondered if what had happened to Han had made the change. She now mingled with the individuals, her attention grabbed by those that built and fought her war.
She was coming out of the medward, where he should have looked in the first place. She looked tragic and dignified and beautiful, and... Hanless, Luke thought.
"Hi Leia," he greeted her shyly, guilty for their time apart.
"Luke," she gushed, grabbing him in a hug and clasping his new hand, squeezing it. She looked down at it, then up at him, her brown eyes searching. "How are you?" They both knew there'd be no answering the question out in the corridor, with all the beings milling about, no privacy. That's why she had asked it there.
Leia thought Luke was so different. His blue eyes, once so eager and idealistic, were now shadowed and ancient. It wasn't just the scars of battle. He'd been marked by something else much deeper. He made her a little uncomfortable, and it disturbed her to feel that way about him. She no longer knew what he was thinking, and the bond they forged, which she heard in her head when he called for her from Cloud City, upset her. She wondered, if she could hear Luke, why couldn't she hear Han as well.
"Can we go somewhere?" he said to her, gesturing with his head away from all the beings.
"Sure," she answered and took his arm and led her to her quarters. The door whooshed open, revealing a characterless sitting room. Two doors flanked a porthole, revealing swirling space. Beyond the closed doors lurked a 'fresher and sleeping cabin.
"Master Luke," C-3PO greeted him. "It is good to see you, sir."
"You too, thanks 3PO," Luke answered. It was always the same greeting, the same response. The routine made him feel a little bit better. Something was familiar. "How is your return to base going?" Luke turned to Leia after they seated themselves.
She rolled her eyes briefly in acknowledgment of their situation. "Smoothing out," she told him. "They know I"ll be leaving again."
Luke nodded. "Han," he said.
Leia nodded in return.
It was like a void, this absence of Han, stopping all conversation. It had always been the three of them, plus Chewie and the two driods. Now wherever Luke went, if there were pilots he knew one was missing; if there were ships he knew one that didn't have her captain; if there was Sabacc he knew a player absent. The experiences went on and on, Han's loss like the phantom pain of his missing hand.
The two sat silently for a time, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Leia said, almost perfunctorily, "How's your new hand?"
Luke looked down at his lap and turned his new prosthetic hand over. "I'm getting used to it," he told her. He pursed his lips, thinking. "I didn't realize, all these beings I've seen with prosthetics... they work so well, I accept them so totally. I didn't realize how hard it is for the owner to accept it."
Leia nodded, but didn't know how to answer. "It's a form of scar, isn't it?" she commented. "Scars are a reminder. They tell a story."
He opened his mouth, desperate to tell his story, but all that came out was, "yeah."
"I'm just glad you're here with us," she said and cringed. "That you're alive, that it's just a scar."
They fell quiet again. Leia shifted a bit in her seat. "I can have C-3PO bring us a drink," she offered.
"No, thanks. I don't want anything." Silence returned to them. Leia felt badly about it. There seemed to be no going back to the way things were.
"Leia, I..." Luke began.
"What is it, Luke?" she asked.
He shook his head, unable to express himself.
"Tell me," she pressed. "We've always been able to tell each other anything."
He struggled, wondering how to start, what to say, how to express it. "I feel like crap," he said, and huffed regretful laugh.
"Not physically?" Leia guessed. She moved closer to him, finally bridging a gap. "You've been through a lot, Luke. Lost a lot."
I don't want what I've gained. It took him a long time to be able to say anything. He sorted through events and emotions, searching for one that felt safe. "I feel bad about Han."
Her shoulders drew together, and the void was back. "Me, too," she said but it wasn't what she meant at all.
Luke tried to read her. Since he'd first known her she was a study in loss. Now there was one more and she was as gracious and steely as ever. He'd found them on Bespin, not knowing how in the stars they'd made it there, or how long they'd been there. Maybe he shouldn't make this all about himself. "How do you do it?"
Leia pretended to not know what he was talking about. "Do what?"
Luke gestured with his new hand. "This. Carrying on. I feel like there's something so wrong."
Leia sighed. "Time," she said, but that was really not right. Time passed whether you wanted it to or not. "I suppose it's like adapting to a new hand. It assimilates in you, becomes part of you. And then it stops hurting. Eventually. But right now, the Corellian accent is killing me."
He was charmed by her answer. Maybe things could be restored. "How did you wind up on Bespin, anyway?" They had not exchanged stories yet.
There was affection in Leia's eyes. It's a long story," she said, thinking she was too tired to tell it. "But I met the most beautiful man."
It was like she was glowing. "Han," Luke guessed and she smiled ruefully.
She loved him, that was obvious. Really she always had. Luke thought of love, and how generous it made Han and how compassionate it made Leia. In his mind's eye he turned to his father, arm outstretched and beseeching Luke to join him as father and son. Did his father love him? In a way, probably. Who had taught his father to love? Because it was a twisted, selfish love. Vader must have known Leia and Han were his friends; how else would he have devised such a plan? Vader's love for Luke was for them to be side by side, serving the galaxy. But what about just side by side? Was that too much to ask? Had this war imprisoned even his father? And what had he done to someone else, someone Luke would have been proud to introduce as a friend, just to get Luke by his side? He'd swept that friend away with a wave of his hand, dismissed his life and worth entirely.
"It's my fault," Luke said.
Leia shook her head vehemently. "Don't", she warned.
"But -"
"No. Gods, what a trio we make!" she threw her head back to the ceiling in exasperation.
"What?"
"Me, you, and Han. I was sorry he had to drag me around the galaxy; he was sorry he decided on Bespin. Now you're sorry you came after us. Each of us thinking we need to bear the burden. We don't. Blame it on Vader."
Luke swallowed. Like father like...no. "I always wanted to know my father," he burst out suddenly.
Leia's brows rose. She had no idea where that came from. "I know," she said slowly. "You've talked about it before."
"Now I think it's not that important."
She flinched a little. "What happened that changed this?"
If you only knew. He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, hands interlaced. "Look at you. And Han. You were adopted; you don't know who your real father was."
"Right."
'And Han, he grew up not knowing his either. Or any father-type being, for that matter."
Her answer was slow and uncertain, as if she'd boarded a boat in rough water and was going along for the ride. "Right."
"So there's genetics, and then there's environment. Right? Who you become, and how."
"Where are you going with this, Luke?"
"I learned from my aunt and uncle how to love. That's who I am. You, you had your adoptive parents to show you what you value. So you grew up, both of us did, in a loving environment. What about Han?"
"What about him?" Leia was feeling slightly alarmed. There was an urgency to Luke's manner now, almost a fierce desperation.
"He loves you, doesn't he? But he didn't grow up in a loving environment. What taught him to love? Where did he get that? From his parents, that he never knew? Is it in his genes? Are we born with the capacity to love?"
Leia shook her head slightly. "I don't know, Luke. I think that question has been asked for centuries. We don't know about Han. His earliest memories have no one, but that doesn't mean he never had it."
"Can a being learn to love? If there's a loveless child, and it's a monster, can you give it love, can you teach it to love? Would you be capable of giving it love?" Luke's questions followed each other rapidly, pressing into Leia, who would open her mouth to respond but then pause while another was fired at her. "Would you want to love it?"
Leia sat a little straighter, eyes widening. "I'm sure there are some who want to give love. That's why there are orphanages, and charities." She thought of Kobaji, the palace kitchen manager. "We had a chef, at my palace, and there was a feral bora. Kobaji would put out food every night and sit there while it ate. Eventually, it let him touch it." She smiled sadly, thinking how the Bora also perished in the explosion. "He named it Nevreelo: 'lost one' in Alderaani. They were very close."
"So you think there's hope?"
"For who? For Han?" Leia pictured him, feral in his own way, fierce and scared and alone and how eventually he opened up. "More than hope. He loves. And is loved."
Luke was nodding fervently. "So it's possible," he muttered to himself.
"What is it, Luke? Did you meet someone ...unloved... during all this?" she finished weakly.
He looked at her, eyes blue and again full of purpose. But he flushed. "Sort of," was all he offered. "But we have to get Han. For Han's sake, to show him what love is capable of."
"Han knows," Leia asserted. "He went after you in that blizzard."
"Right." But Luke had been thinking of Vader.
"You've got me thinking," Leia said. "I've been so worried for Han." The truth was her anxiety was so great it was torture. "Lando told me about what happens to sentients if not properly prepared for carbon freeze. Medically. Physically." She waved a hand, trying to seem casual. "Emotionally."
Luke felt himself go on guard again, wanting to apologize for his father's lack of empathy.
"I think, emotionally, Han's background has prepared him as best it can for something like this. It's got to be awful, in there," she felt her teeth begin to chatter again, her only symptom. "Lando said there'd likely be awareness." Luke's eyes got wide "But he's so used to surviving, being on his own. It's probably been a while since he let himself feel scared, but it's in him somewhere, how to cope with it. Hopefully, he won't have to be wait long."
"Do you think he's waiting?" Luke asked, curious.
"No," Leia answered sadly. "We both thought he would die. But if he's aware, he'll expect Chewie, only because of the Life Debt." It made her sad to think that he would await rescue because he felt someone had to; not because they wanted to. She knew Han, knew he would remember, knew he never regretted but also that he never planned for the future. She allowed herself to be lost for a time, thinking he had no idea how much she needed him, and how precious that made him to her. Luke watched her thoughts flit across her face. He felt a shift in himself.
"I'm starting to feel better," he told her slowly. "You know I've been training to learn the Force? When I was there, I felt it so strongly. Like it was my friend, in me, making me better. Then I left, because of you two, and even though they warned me I didn't listen. I still had it inside me, this strength. I thought I could handle anything."
Leia nodded in encouragement.
"Then I got to Bespin, and I was... it all fell apart. I couldn't control myself. I saw another -" he swallowed, still finding he could say neither 'father' or 'Vader' "- use the Force. It was their ally, too. Not just mine. I came so close to losing everything. And we lost Han." He gripped his new hand with his other one, squeezing it to see if he felt wires and rods rather than bones and tendon. He felt it again, that restless urgent energy that told him to move, to make it right. "I wanted to be the hero."
Leia leaned forward and touched his wrist and it was like no time had passed between them. "You always did." Her tone was sweet, forgiving.
Luke sat into her touch. "But I was so stupid. I know better now. I feel this pressing need to go off and be the hero again. But I know I need to wait. To plan. I'm going to make this right. I can't get my hand back, but I can get my friend back."
Luke had learned, sitting here with Leia and talking about life and limbs, that he had resolved the Force in himself. There was a flexibility in his character he hadn't experienced before. He had lost a hand, but it had been replaced. He had lost a friend, but his friend wasn't lost. He had gained a father, and it was up to Luke whether or not to build a relationship. And it would be on his terms. The Force gave him an enhanced awareness that spread out beyond Home One. Inside him, radiating outward, was the love from Leia and Han. It was the one thing he could count on since learning of his Force ability and he knew it was the one thing that wouldn't change.
"I changed my mind," he told Leia. "I'd like a drink after all."
They sat together for a long time, drinking and talking. Leia told him of her efforts to learn about carbon freezing and what to expect of Han's condition when they got him out. They talked about all the bounty hunters they'd encountered and vilified Bob Fett together until they were laughing. He learned her flight to Bespin was about as long as his time on Dagobah and if she got a little too personal he teased her until she flushed deeply. He told her about Dagobah and showed her a few things the Force had shown him.
The lights in the cabin remained on dim and the stars glowed brighter out the porthole window.
They came to a pause in conversation. Luke swirled his drink inside the glass, enjoying the tinkling sound the ice made. Leia was looking at him with shining eyes. "I'm so glad you're here," she told him. "I can't imagine going through this without you."
He nodded back with a smile, knowing she almost did. He found they had filled the void that arose every time they mentioned Han, filled it with friendship and determination. Terror and guilt and anger no longer separated them. There was still a pang. It was remorseful and bittersweet, but it would go away when Han was theirs again.
