The Face in the Shadows

Chapter 21

The morning dawned, as it inevitably had to, and Elaan joined Brenna and the others at the encampment while Luke . Rupert was already at the Falcon, ready to fly in with guns if the auction plan didn't work. The nighttime cloud-seeding Rupert had managed when transporting the Sniffer had only partially worked. The day was cloudy, which would help keep the Falcon hidden, if need be, but by Luke's estimation, it was only a fifty-fifty shot whether they'd actually see rain. Brenna had asked for two communications sets linked to the Falcon and to each other, one of which she disassembled and sewed into the lining of Luke's hood, and the other she kept for herself. Each woman had a blaster strapped high on her leg under her skirt. Luke had his lightsaber under his cloak, and, of course, the com-link. A quick check to make sure the com-links were working, and they were ready.

Luke hoped it wouldn't come to needing the Falcon. It would be a very risky venture, not only for Timmon, but for the many innocents who were there only for the fair, like Jenin. And he really didn't want any new religions started by accident. Not to mention the New Republic penalties for interference in under-developed cultures was severe, and it was a sure bet that Luke, Rupert, and Brenna would see a great deal of jail time if they ever got caught. It was unlikely, but still a possibility that Luke had to consider.

The auction podium was large enough to hold a number of guards, a table, some sort of metal structure, a podium, a bucket, and a brazier.

Timmon was brought out in chains and under a heavy guard. In the daylight, he looked even more drawn than he had in the dark cell, but he was standing on his own, even if he did stumble on his way to the podium. His binders were chained to the metal structure, and the auctioneer took his place at the podium.

Timmon's eyes scanned the crowd until he found Elaan and Aren and locked onto them. Luke had already coached Elaan and Aren not to say anything aloud, not to call Timmon's name or show any sign of recognition, but the longing with which Timmon looked at them and the return gaze they gave him was dangerous. Luke spoke quietly into his com-link, and watched Brenna move her hand to her ear, then steer Elaan to face away from Timmon. Elaan seemed to protest a moment until Brenna whispered something in her ear, and then Elaan nodded. Elaan bent down and whispered into Aren's ear, but the boy would not be turned away from looking at his father. Seeing the exchange, Timmon frowned. Then he seemed to recognize the danger of recognition, why Elaan was turning away, and he did the same.

Luke nodded to himself. Timmon was a little slower than his normal self, but he was still able to think. Aren took a step or two towards his father, but Elaan caught him and pulled him back. Luke realized that Aren would be of little use if push came to shove and they had to fight to free Timmon. He relayed that to Brenna and advised her that the first order of business if they had to go to plan B would be to get Aren out of the way, which wouldn't be an easy thing to do. Brenna replied that Elaan would probably be the one best suited for that task, and promised to relay that to her.

The bidding began, and fairly quickly it narrowed down to Luke, Red Boots, and one other bonder who hadn't wandered the fair at all as the only three who had enough money to continue. Every time Luke made his bid, one or the other would increase it.

As the bidding continued to rise, Luke was nearing the limit of his monetary resources. "Get ready," Luke murmured into his com-link. "Looks like we'll have to go to Plan B. Rupert, start warming up."

Rupert voiced acknowledgement, and Luke could see Brenna give a nod and start hiking up her skirt to make easy access to her blaster. The other women followed her example, to be ready when the fighting started.

Luke made one last-ditch attempt at Plan A, and raised his voice to bid to the copper everything he had: "Ten thousand, three hundred, and eighty-seven!"

Red Boots immediately raised the offer to an even three thousand, and the auctioneer looked to the other bonder to see if there was a higher bid.

"Plan B it is," Luke murmured. "Rupert, let me know when you're airborne."

"One more minute," Rupert promised.

Suddenly Luke felt something being pressed into his hand, and was surprised to see Jenin walking away with only a quick backward glance.

As the other bonder hesitantly outbid Red Boots, and Red Boots countered with another bid, Luke concentrated to form a surface-level mind-link, and was rewarded by Jenin's ready answer. Jenin, what's this?

Jenin continued to move away, and was swallowed up by the crowd. A small gift to repay you for the larger gift you gave me.

Luke didn't have time to ask farther, because it looked like Red Boots was about to win the auction.

"She's up and ready," Rupert said in the com-link.

"Stand by," Luke told him quietly. Then he lifted his head and raised his voice. "Ten thousand, three hundred, and eighty-seven," he said, repeating his earlier bid, which was now lower than the current bid, and before the amused laughter could build, he held up Jenin's coin, and added, "Plus this."

There was a collective gasp from the audience, and Luke took advantage of the moment of stunned surprise to contact Jenin again. What is it?

A dastra. It is worth a lot of money. It was to be my dowry, but I do not wish to marry, so it is useless to me. More useful to you.

Oh, Jenin… Outwardly, Luke kept his face impassive. He broke the link again and became aware that all eyes were now on him, wondering at the extraordinary amount of money being offered for Timmon.

The auctioneer had sent a soldier who was now making his way toward Luke. The crowd parted to let him through. "Let me see," the soldier said. He examined the coin carefully, even nicking the edge of it with his knife. He shook his head slightly in wonder, then held up the gleaming coin and pronounced loudly, "It is genuine!" Then he returned the coin to Luke, but did not return to the podium himself, standing near Luke, but not blocking his view of the podium.

Luke sensed the amazement and curiosity of the crowd. Why anyone would want to pay so much for a bondsman for the "privilege" of torturing and perhaps killing him, even for the "status of the thing, seemed unreal. Even Timmon was looking at Luke with a frankly uncomprehending gaze.

Luke would have to give them an explanation that would satisfy them. He lifted his arm and pointed to Timmon, then addressed the crowd. "This man took something from me! A woman! My favorite! I will have him, whatever the cost! And he will know what it means to take from me!"

Luke was fairly satisfied with his little speech. The vague threat sounded sinister enough, and even Timmon was looking a bit worried. And every word was absolutely true…from a certain point of view, anyway.

The auctioneer looked from Red Boots to the other bondsman, more as a formality than anything else, and they both shook their heads. The auctioneer declared Luke to be the winning bidder, and told him to pay the soldier

Luke did so, but then the soldier held out his hand again. "Your ring," he said.

Luke took off the ring and gave it to him, and the soldier returned to the auction platform.

"Power down?" Rupert asked in his ear.

"Yes," Luke replied quietly.

At the platform, wax was dripped onto a parchment document, the ring was pressed onto the wax, but then, rather than returning the ring to Luke, another soldier took it, attached it to a tool like tongs, and placed it in the brazier. Luke frowned. He hadn't known Timmon was to be branded in public. And from the quick sense of alarm he felt from Elaan, neither had she.

Luke spoke to Brenna in his comlink, and made his way to the platform. That brazier looked hot, much hotter than the ones in the bonder's stalls.

The ring was glowing red-hot by the time Luke was able to reach the platform. Sever soldiers were already holding Timmons arms, another was holding his head immobile, and another two had grabbed his legs. The soldier in charge of the tongs and ring seemed surprised when Luke mounted the platform and held out his hands for the tongs. "Have I not paid enough for the privilege?" he asked.

The soldier looked to the auctioneer, who shrugged, then stepped away from the tongs.

Luke pulled them out of the brazier as quickly as he dared, and went to where Timmon was being held. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brenna trying to herd Elaan and Aren away. Luke let the tongs dangle loosely from his fingers, taking his time, as if to taunt Timmon, but in actuality trying to cool the ring. He tried to help things along with a little Force-energy, tried to slow the movement of the excited molecules. He waved the ring in front of Timmon's face, again as if to taunt, but in actuality continuing to cool the ring, until he had done as much as he dared without arousing suspicion. Then he knelt next to Timmon, managing a barely audible "Sorry," as his lips passed near Timmon's ears, and pressed the hot ring onto Timmon's forehead.

Timmon's scream caused Elaan and Aren to whirl around. Fortunately, Brenna had gotten them far enough away from the podium not to cause suspicion from the soldiers.

Timmon sagged, still bound by a chain to the metal stand on the podium. His scream had died to a whimper, and he was openly sobbing. Luke hid his pained expression by looking down to drop tongs and ring into the bucket of water. There was a quick hissss, and by the time he looked back up, he was once again wearing his "bonder" expression. "I will take him now," he said.

One of the soldiers nodded and unlocked the chain from the rail and handed it to Luke. "We will provide you an escort where you wish to go, to ensure that he does not escape."

"He will not. But you can come along if you want. Oh, and I'll take the key to those binders, too," Luke said.

"As you wish, milord." The soldier handed Luke the key, and Luke gave the chain a jerk that rattled it and looked and sounded harder than it actually was.

"Come on," Luke told Timmon. "You belong to me, now."

Timmon stumbled descending the podium, and Luke gave the chain a jerk that chafed Timmon's wrist, but also kept him from falling. The crowd parted before them, and Luke occasionally gave the chain another jerk, for effect. Luke looked back and saw some of the soldiers bringing up the rear. When they reached Luke's lodgings, Luke held up his hand. "This is as far as you go. If you want, you can stay out here to make sure he does not escape, but I want him to myself. And if one of you will go to the gypsy camp over there—" he pointed "—and fetch me the woman, I would be glad of the company."

Once they were inside the building and the door was closed, Luke let out a long breath. "I'll unlock you when we get to the room, he told Timmon quietly. He held Timmon's elobw to help him up the stairs. "Let's get you cleaned up a bit before Elaan gets here, shall we?"

Timmon's eyes were still brimming as he looked up at Luke and said, "I wear your mark."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, but I didn't see an alternative. I've got a first-aid kit in my room. That should help with the pain. We'll take care of the rest later."

Timmon inhaled a shaky breath. "I am marred, now. I will not be able to return home."

"Not to worry," Luke assured him. "There won't be a scar. But I just can't do much more until we get back to Rupert's ship." He got Timmon into the room, unlocked the binders, gave Timmon another dose of antibiotics and painkillers, and had Timmon remove his filthy rags. Luke set those aside – he had another use for them later – gave Timmon some wipes to clean himself off as best he could, and helped him into a clean set of clothes. Luke shook his head sadly at the sight of all the bruises and welts on the other man's body, but was grateful that at least there were no broken bones to deal with. It made travel that much less difficult.

There was a knock at the door, and Luke motioned Timmon to stay out of sight while he partially opened the door to see Elaan and the soldier he had sent. Luke thanked the soldier, told him to wait outside with the others, and for the soldier's benefit, kissed Elaan roughly and drew her into the room. He peeked to make sure the soldier was actually leaving, sighed, and turned to see Elaan already standing before Timmon, his face in her hands, kissing him with gentle tenderness. Luke closed the door and went over to them.

Elaan caressed Timmon's cheek briefly, then turned to Luke. "Thank you," she breathed. Her eyes were liquid gratitude.

Luke nodded. "We're not out of the woods yet, though."

"Aren wanted to come. It was difficult to hold him back."

"Tell Aren that unless he wants to get branded, too, he'd better keep his distance. He'll get his reunion, I promise, but not here. Not now."

"Brenna told him as much already, but I will repeat it to him again." She turned back to her husband, and her expression melted as she took in the brand on his forehead. Then she reached into her pocket and withdrew a small jar of salve. "The herb-crafter Jenin gave me this and said it would help."

Luke smiled a little. "I'll let you take care of that," he said. He took a chair from the table, dragged it to the far corner of the room, and left the pair in as much privacy as he could while Elaan tended to Timmon's hurts.

Rupert arrived at the bonder's fair at first light the next morning, which was still overcast and threatening to rain, and Luke promised to help him take care of unfinished business before they set off for the Falcon. In fact, Luke left Timmon sleeping in the room with strict orders to stay put, and with Rupert's new pet mortu guarding the door in case the soldiers or anyone else became too curious.

After the unfinished business was finished, Luke and Rupert headed back to the gypsy camp.

"I'm hungry," Rupert complained. "Anybody else hungry?"

"Rue," said Brenna softly, taking his arm to lead him aside, "I wouldn't mention food right now, if I were you."

"Why not?" Rupert asked, refusing to be led away.

Brenna tried to be patient. "Because," she explained, "we have a long walk ahead of us, no food, no money, and it's rude to remind people of what they can't have."

Rupert waved a hand. "Nonsense. The Force will provide."

"You can hunt when we're on the road," Brenna said. "But in the meantime —"

"I'm hungry," Rupert insisted. "I want some food, and I want it now."

Brenna turned to her father for assistance. "Dad—?"

Luke shrugged. "The Force will provide."

"I want breakfast," Rupert said.

Brenna glared at Rupert. "Well, unless the Force can provide you with some meal rations right now, I suggest you shut up."

"Hmmm," Rupert said. "I don't have any ration bars, but how about some of those grain cakes they're selling over there?" He produced a coin and gave it to Brenna.

She looked at it, then at Rupert. "You were holding out? My Dad might have needed this at the auction."

"Me? Hold out? No way! I only acquired that this morning."

A slow smile formed on Brenna's face as she realized just how Rupert had acquired it. "From who?"

Rupert glanced off to his left, and Brenna followed his eyes to where Red Boots was talking animatedly to one of the city guards. She averted her gaze and grinned. "I thought he was untouchable."

"He was, until this morning," Rupert said. "He got a little careless. Courtesy of a little telepathic suggestion from your father and a problem rodent population."

Luke grinned. "He was much more susceptible this morning than before the auction. Rupert did the rest."

"So like I was asking," Rupert said, after pulling his tongue out of his cheek and holding out the coin, "are you hungry?"

"Starving," Brenna replied, taking the coin.

"Bring back one for me," Rupert told her.

Not long after breakfast, the soldiers around Luke's lodging saw the bonder and his son leave on ride-beasts, with the bonder leading his unmounted, bound bondsman captive by a length of chain attached to a loop on the bonder's saddle. And if the bondsman's son kept his hood pulled up, it was only to shield from the occasional raindrop that fell from the overcast sky. And if the bonded prisoner's head was bowed and his shoulders were hunched, that was only to be expected. And if the occasional glimpse of a simulated bond-blister and the stench of the clothes was enough to keep most people from seeking a better view, well, that was fine by all involved. And if anyone did take an interest in the party, a little make-up that either hid or simulated a blister, and a little Force-suggestion to switch features was usually enough to satisfy curiosity. And if, occasionally, another bonder would congratulate Luke for winning the auction and noted the "son's" silence, Luke would laugh, clap his son on the back, and confess that the "boy" had fallen for the charms of one of the gypsy women and had gotten little sleep that night, and the "young man" would simply pull his hood lower and remain silent.

And if, every once in a while, the prisoner started to walk more upright, a quick jerk by the bonder on the chain would send the bondsman stumbling and elicit a half-smile from the bonder.

Not long after the bonder and his son and prisoner left the fair, the gypsy encampment, the herb-crafter's encampment, and many of the others were packed and mobilized. With the auction over, most of the fair-goers were leaving, and no one thought twice about the band of gypsies that took to the same road as the bonder and his son.

The rain continued to threaten, but did not come except drip by drip. And after a while, when Luke noticed the sagging shoulders of the "son" riding beside him and there was no one else in sight on the road, Luke stopped for a short break. "How are you holding up?" he asked the rider beside him.

Timmon lifted his eyes, revealing his face. "I shall manage," he answered.

"Need another painkiller?"

"As I said, I can manage, and I do not wish to fall asleep in the saddle."

Luke clapped him gently on the back. "Good man. The sooner we get to the ship, the sooner we can take care of you properly."

Rupert gathered up the chain linking him to Luke as he approached, and straightened his aching back. Then he awkwardly tried to scratch his head. "This wig is making my head itch," he complained. "And I think you should take a turn wearing the stinky clothes."

"Seniority has its privileges," Luke said, smiling.

"But I'm getting tired," Rupert said in an exaggerated whine.

"Exercise is good for you," Luke said, and clicked his beast to get going again. Even Timmon had to give a tired little smile at the ease with which the two men bantered.

Since Rupert was on foot and their progress was necessarily slowed whenever anyone else was in sight, it didn't take long for the others to catch up once they had reached the Falcon. By then, the sky overhead opened up, and finally let loose the rain Luke had been hoping for earlier. Rupert was still in the shower, having trashed his filthy clothes, when Aren came running up to his father with a cry and threw his arms around him. Timmon grimaced at the contact, but then enveloped the boy in a tight hug.

Elaan joined the duet, making it a trio. Then it became a foursome, fivesome, and sixsome as Kayleen, Ranaad, and Sandin joined the hug, all standing in the downpour until Brenna ushered them up the gangplank.

The mortu was already inside. It found its way to Rupert's open cabin door, then whined and scratched at the shower door.

Luke was looking up at the sky from the Falcon's cockpit when Brenna found him. "I think we can risk a daytime trip," he said. "Plenty of cloud cover, and the sound of the rain will mask most of the noise." He looked at his daughter. "Think you can pilot the mini-shuttle through this back to Elaan's farm?"

Brenna was surprised that her father was entrusting the shuttle to her. "Sure," she said. "But why not to the Falcon's hold?"

Luke shrugged. "I thought we might leave it here for Elaan and Aren in case of emergency. After all, the escape pod came in handy, didn't it? And the shuttle is in much better shape."

"I'll set it on autopilot for Croyus Four, then. I mean, if that's okay. I never did get your answer on whether or not you want to run the place."

"Uh, about that…" Luke swiveled in his seat to face her. "Sorry, Sweetheart, but my answer is 'no.' I don't really want to run the place. I'll leave that to you. But if you want my help with anything, I have no other pressing engagements. I'm happy to go to Croyus Four to help out, but I don't want to be the one in charge."

"You'll come with me?"

"Only if you want me to. I mean, it sounds like you might need a babysitter."

A slow smile developed on Brenna's face, and her hand moved to her stomach. "Yes," she said. "I could use a babysitter. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He indicated the main cabin behind them. "I think I'd like to drop the nieces and Sandin first, then use the Falcon's blasters to bury the shuttle someplace convenient.

Brenna nodded. "We'll have to show them how to use the auto-pilot."

"Right. And since you've become so handy with the medical equipment, if you wouldn't mind patching Timmon up while I show Elaan and Aren how to work the shuttle, that would be great."

Brenna was dropped off at the shuttle. Ranaad, Kayleen, and Sandin were dropped off at Timmon's brother's farm (which elicited much amazement from Timmon's brother and his brother's wife, but Luke didn't want to stay to satisfy their curiosity), a hole was blasted in the ground, the shuttle was skillfully piloted to the spot Luke picked out, and Luke showed Elaan and Aren how to engage the autopilot while Brenna worked on Timmon.

Luke finished first, and went back inside the Falcon to watch his daughter prepare a bacta patch for Timmon's forehead. After she put the patch in the bacta solution to soak, she handed Timmon a small container of pills. "One a day for the next three days. After I put the patch on, don't touch the patch. You can take it off tomorrow night, but not before. Your forehead may be red for another day after that, but you shouldn't see any marks where the blister was."

"Can I have a minute?" Luke asked.

"Sure."

He flicked his head toward the door, and she understood that he wanted to be alone with Timmon.

When she was gone, Luke studied her handiwork. The blistering was gone. The skin was red, but it looked more like an allergic reaction than bonder's mark. And in a few days, even that would be gone.

"You'll have to finish burying the shuttle yourself," Luke told Timmon. "Keep the earth loose. Maybe use that area as a manure pile or a garden.

Timmon nodded.

Then Luke took off his bonder's ring and offered it to Timmon. "Do you have any use for that?"

"No," Timmon said. "I would never be able to pass as a bonder, nor know any who would. It is more like to be dangerous if discovered."

Luke nodded and put it into his pocket.

"Is the design significant?"

"Sort of," Luke replied. "It says 'Jedi.' Nothing really important."

Timmon gave a little laugh. "I have never before worn the mark of another man. I would know what 'Jedi' means."

Luke shrugged, and searched for words that Timmon would undertand. "The Jedi are – were, I mean – a community of wizard-born do-gooders. I was a member, once. Elaan was, too, in her before-time."

"If all this is required is to be wizard-born and 'do good,' then you are both assuredly still members."

"There's a bit more to it than that, but you're right. Maybe the Jedi haven't quite died out yet." Luke drew in a deep breath. "Timmon, you owe me a life-debt."

"One I fear the cost of repaying," Timmon admitted. "And…there are some prices I am not willing to pay."

"Well, let's see, shall we? She chose you, Timmon. But if she ever…changes her mind, if she ever chooses me…Or if she's ever unhappy here…Or if she ever needs me…you send her to me. Or send your son to fetch me."

Timmon smiled. "That, I can manage." He held out his hand to seal the agreement. "I hope I never have to repay this life-debt."

Luke shook the hand, "Make sure your son knows that, too."

"I will."

"And have a talk with him, will you? I think he'd like to murder me for giving you that 'bonder's blister.'"

"It was necessary," Timmon said. "I will make sure he understands that."

"Good. Take care of yourself, Timmon. This 'Way' of yours is pretty dangerous, as you know by now."

"I will," Timmon said. His mouth quirked. After all, I am worth at least a dastra."

"Probably the only honestly come by coin I paid for you," Luke replied, returning the smile.

Luke passed by Brenna with a flick of his head to indicate that he was done and she should finish tending to Timmon, passed by the mortu, now contentedly sleeping on a large pillow Rupert had tossed on the floor for her, probably the softest bed she'd ever had, and went down the gangplank.

Aren met him at the bottom.

"I owe you another life-debt," Aren said.

"You do," Luke agreed. "So does your father. He will tell you how it may be settled."

Aren nodded once in acknowledgement, then sensed his mother behind him and turned to look at her. She indicated with a movement of her eyes that she wanted him to withdraw, and he did.

Luke and Elaan were alone at the bottom of the gangplank.

"How may such a debt be paid?" Elaan asked softly.

"The debt's not yours," Luke replied. "It belongs to Timmon and Aren."

"But I was the one who asked your help," she pointed out.

"You gave me my daughter back...by giving her back some of what I took away. That settles any debt you owe me."

"Brenna has not finished her journey." Elaan said. "She has not yet...found herself. There is still a distance for her to travel."

"Yes, but you've given her hope that the path itself might not be so bad after all. There is no debt between us."

Elaan nodded, accepting his decision, then looked up at him with eyes that were dark, and deep, and soft, and more than a little moist. "I will never see you again, will I?"

"If you truly want to, you may."

Elaan smiled, a little sadly. "I am glad that you came—not only for Timmon's sake, and not only to show me the daughter I didn't know I had. I am glad...that your face is no longer in the shadows. But I will miss you."

Luke gazed for a long moment into her eyes. Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her. For a moment, she returned the kiss, with all the passion that Luke himself felt. But then she saw or sensed something behind Luke, and her passion was tempered.

Luke felt the change in her, ended the kiss, and glanced back to see Timmon standing at the top of the gangplank. Brenna had finished applying the bacta patch. "Goodbye, Elaan," Luke said quietly, then turned and headed up the gangplank, past Timmon.

He left so swiftly that Elaan wasn't sure if he heard her whispered "Goodbye, Luke," before the bay doors closed. But he did.

He watched through a window from inside the Falcon as Elaan hesitated at the bottom of the gangplank, momentarily torn between two worlds. Then Timmon descended, and Aren walked up to her. She turned slightly to look at them, and each took one of her hands, and she allowed herself to be pulled away from the ship. Luke felt a spark of hope inside him die away.

But then he felt a gentle pressure on his own arm, and turned to see Brenna touching him. "Rupert needs you in the cockpit," she said.

Luke nodded, knowing it was a lie, but needing the lie anyway. He drew a deep breath and headed for the shuttle's brain. Rupert was busy throwing switches and bringing the ship to life as he slid into the co-pilot seat and strapped himself in. "Brenna said you needed me."

Rupert glanced at him. "Uh, yeah." He passed his hand over a button, and a series of numbers vanished from a read-out on the control panel. "See if you can pull up the coordinates for Medea out of the nav-system, will you?"

Luke nodded, knowing that he would simply be re-entering the same numbers that Rupert had just blanked out, but grateful for something to do anyway. After a moment, he felt the freighter lift up on thrusters, and looked out to see Elaan and her small family watching the ship rise. Then Rupert turned the shuttle, and it shot out of the atmosphere.

Luke finished pulling the coordinates up just as Brenna came into the cockpit and slid into the navigator's seat behind him. Luke undid his seat strap. The worst part was over now—the goodbyes, not the bumpy ride through the atmosphere – and he was ready to rest now. "If you need me," he told Rupert, "I'll be in the main cabin."

He stood up and started working his way to the back of the cockpit, but Brenna said, "Wait—"

Luke looked at her. She seemed to be absorbed in something and was frowning. Then she picked up Luke's hand from the arm of her chair and placed it on her stomach.

A second later, Luke felt it. A tiny, almost imperceptible kick. Life.

Luke became enraptured with the wonder of it. He looked at Brenna and saw her eyes shining back up at him, and a genuine smile on her face.

New life.

Something inside Luke had died, but here was fresh, new life to take its place.

The baby kicked again.

Luke felt his own smile growing. His grandson was impatient to come out—a typical Skywalker. But Yoda had promised a new race, a new line, so maybe it wasn't impatience after all.

Maybe the baby was just saying hello.

"Hello to you," Luke replied softly.