This is Not Our Fate

Epilogue 7. They Are a Changing

The noise was so soft, she almost didn't hear it.

It was a deliberate noise, a soft scuffle instead of a clearing of the throat, and just enough to gently draw her attention from the pile of flimsiwork drifting over her desk in white mounds. Her brows drew together, puckering, and her lips twitched downward. If it was important enough to interrupt her, whoever it was should have said so directly, rather than hovering in irritating silence.

Leia lifted her eyes.

It wasn't one of her assistants, nor was it anyone who looked remotely like a dignitary. If anything, the woman looked like a freighter pilot, and though Leia knew not to underestimate the abilities of smugglers, she wasn't sure why one would randomly appear in her office, entirely unannounced and unescorted. The woman was a petite Togruta, with a pair of impressive striped montrals adorning the top of her head, her face framed by an equally impressive looking headdress of triangular, serrated teeth. She had a blaster pistol at her hip, and wore a long brown duster coat, which hung loosely around her as though it were a size too big. There was a patch on one shoulder that looked new, unfaded like the rest of her clothing, as though it were a recent addition; a red, winged star insignia that once represented the old Republic. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she was admiring the landscape of Alderaan hanging from the wall, casually.

She said, almost absently, "You shouldn't be too upset with your attendants. They were actually pretty hard to convince." She paused for a minute, drawing her fingers horizontally through the air, then tilted her head to the side so that Leia could see more than her profile. Her eyes, lightly lined, were an almost startling shade of sky blue. "Hi," she said, and smiled.

Leia's eyes narrowed, and she stood from her seat, though remained behind her desk. "Who are you and what are you doing in here?"

The woman's smile broadened, and she chuckled once before returning her attention to the landscape. Her face sobered, and the smile faded. Her hands unfolded from across her chest to hang at her sides. "I'm an old friend, and I'm here to keep an old promise you probably have forgotten about." Her face grew somewhat more pained as she stared up at the painting. It was a scene of the mountains beyond Aldera, the sun turning the land a mix of lavender and orange and scarlet, the city at the base of the mountains' base cast in shadow, but lit up with little lights from the buildings set there. Leia chose it because it reminded her of the view from the palace, now gone. "You probably don't remember me," the Togruta continued quietly. "But I once promised I'd tell you all about the exciting world of shipping delicate imports and exports."

A smile worked its' way onto her face again, but it faltered until she turned away from the painting. It grew steady, and became gentle rather than sad. "You've grown up," she chuckled, then rolled her eyes. "Wow, I'm old."

Leia relaxed, almost imperceptibly. The woman was right, she didn't remember her, but something tickled in the back of her memory, over the combination of a Togruta woman, and a promise about being told about something once forbidden to her. That, and if the woman meant her physical harm, she would have already attacked. Leia sharpened her focus on the woman's face; a pair of white marks decorated her cheeks, shaped like ginkgo leaves. A set of stripes ran down her forehead, elegant and slightly abstract. She didn't recognize the pattern. The hazy memory bubbling up to the surface of her mind was all solid stripes and bold ovals, lacking in the delicacy this woman possessed.

The Togruta's smile broadened again. "It was Ashla Ebino. But it's really Ahsoka Tano."

Leia really had grown. Her brown eyes were clever as ever, sharp and round and intent. Ahsoka watched her try to make sense of her presence with amusement and pride. Coruscant was slowly beginning to look like Coruscant again, instead of the much loathed ImperialCenter. Glorifying statues of the hooded Emperor were being pulled down, partitions between areas of the city were being lifted, and offices and buildings were being reopened for different purposes and staffed with different people. The change was palpable, moreso when she used the Force to sense it. There was an overwhelming sense of relief, of being able to breathe again. People were still twitchy, frightened, looking over their shoulders as they walked, still afraid soldiers in white armor would come and snatch them, but the fear was fading into something both shaky and strong. It was a brave new galaxy that was forming, and though there was anticipation, there was apprehension, too.

She was like her mother. Padme's apartments and offices were always a wealth of color, of richness, a place you could feel a calming type of opulence, the safety and comfort that could only be offered by someone both powerful and kind. Leia's offices were different than Padme's, still showing evidence of the previous owner's occupation. The walls were slate grey, and here and there were pieces of hyper-modern, mass produced furniture. Wide, rectangular windows stood straight and tall and bare behind the desk, and the yellow sunlight that fell through them fell through starkly. But there were also signs of Leia, in an overstuffed couch of indigo, in a few figurines sculpted in what Ahsoka recognized as an Alderaanian style, and the portrait of a city destroyed in such a devastating manner.

And she was dressed as finely, though perhaps not as extravagantly, as Padme ever was, all greens and yellows and fine material. Her hair was bound up in two rolls on either side of her head, a style she recalled Padme wearing on occasion, a style traditional to Naboo.

She was her mother's daughter, and as Ahsoka envisioned over twenty years ago on Polis Massa, she was strong.

Leia tasted the offered name, warily, slowly. "Ahsoka Tano?" She wasn't Luke, with his special abilities, mysticism, and the Force, but she considered herself a decent judge of character. The woman was harmless, at least to her. But there was something in how she held herself, even relaxed, that suggested she was anything but harmless. At her name, the woman turned to face Leia fully, and she was able to make out the slight bulge of a concealed weapon under her shoulder.

Ahsoka regarded her, followed her gaze and slight frown, and glanced down at her own shoulder. "Ah," she said, and lifted a hand to the lapel of her coat, slowly and with enough deliberation that Leia knew she was being shown what was there instead of having it turned on her. Ahsoka pulled the coat open, and withdrew a silver cylinder.

Leia recognized what it was only a second before it was ignited. Her gasp came out at the same time as the grass green blade. It hummed pleasantly in the silence of the room, casting light up into Ahsoka's face and turning her eyes turquoise. Held horizontally, reverse-gripped, it seemed like a bar of pure light, separating two women and two different eras.

Leia stepped back and fell heavily into her chair, her hands gripping the edge of the desk tightly. "You should be talking to Luke, not me!"

The lightsaber was extinguished, but its' presence could still be felt in the room; there was a brightness now that a moment ago was absent, and the faint smell of ozone. Ahsoka smiled at her, gently. "I didn't promise Luke."

She was a Jedi. There was another. Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead, as was Luke's second teacher, Yoda. Her father had told her that there were only a few that escaped the purge, of General Kenobi's location and that the former Grand Master of the Jedi Order had gone into hiding in places unknown. But he had also said, somewhat cryptically at the time, "And there is another." But he'd refused to name the person or give a location. Leia understood his caution. He was protecting a last resort, a final chance if everything else failed. She knew, in time, he'd have told her, but Alderaan was gone before he could, and him with it.

She bowed her head, trying to breathe. The Force ran strong in her family. Her brother had it. She had it. Leia looked up again. Obi-Wan and Yoda trained Luke. If Luke had failed, was this the woman who would have taught her? A desperate final chance if everything else failed: herself, and one last teacher?

It seemed suddenly cold, and she shivered once. "You said we met before?"

"A couple times, actually, though I've seen you at least once a year, until…" her voice trailed off and her face filled with pain. She looked towards the landscape, heavily. "Until Alderaan."

Only survivors spoke that way, about their homeworld now gone. Others sympathized, understood, offered condolences. They were sad, they were angry. But Alderaani that still lived experienced these things with a heaviness only another Alderaani could share. Ahsoka spoke with the same weight in her words, with the same loss. "You are Alderaani."

"For about twenty years, yes."

A pause. Leia considered what she now knew of the woman and her dress, combined it with the knowledge of where she lived. She made a leap of logic. "You were Alderaanian resistance."

The smile turned towards her was sad and confirming, but not without a hint of humor. "Delicate exports and imports. Very delicate." Se hefted her lightsaber and arched a brow, meaningfully.

Leia found herself smiling in response. "You should still be talking to Luke, not me. To know there's someone else alive. You can be a tremendous help to us."

For a moment, Ahsoka wavered. It was tempting. So very tempting. They could open the Temple again. Her padawans, both grown and still growing, would have a home again. The Jedi Temple would be filled with Jedi again, even if it was barely a dozen. They could see their history, live in the place their predecessors did, have a past and traditions they could be proud of. And not only the padawans. She could go home. Barriss could go home. They could stand in the council chamber, and look out over Coruscant, and feel the vibrancy of a world so teeming with life and growing vitality again. She could teach Leia, like she wanted to so long ago. She could talk to Luke, ask about Master Kenobi and Master Yoda, know how it was they died. They could rebuild some semblance of the life she lost, the day of Order 66.

But it was not a life that should be rebuilt.

Leia knew before Ahsoka spoke the answer was no. Her chair creaked faintly as she leaned back in it, watching as the hopeful, wistful look in Ahsoka's eyes faded and became something resigned. "I'm of the old Order. You and Luke are meant to rebuild things. You the Republic, him the Jedi. It's tempting," she admitted quietly, painfully, "but I'm not meant to be part of it. The Jedi Order needs to be built new, and that can't happen while trying to build it on the foundation of something old."

She sighed, held up her lightsaber so that she could look at it. Its' familiar shape and weight were comforting in the palm of her hand. It was her Master's piece, elegant and well made, and she wielded it much of her adult life. "There's actually a few of us," she admitted, taking Leia slightly by surprise. "But not many. Almost all are younglings found after the Empire formed. We lost some during Alderaan." Once again, she cast her eyes towards the painting, and her face hardened, painfully. "Another like Palpatine can't be allowed to rise. Events are still in motion. We're watching."

"You would be welcome."

Ahsoka smiled at her, kindly, sadly. She looked out the window, afternoon light illuminating her face. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Ahsoka paused, her lips pressing firmly into a line. Her hand tightened around the grip of her lightsaber, and Leia worried at what the question would be.

"Do you know, when he died, how Vader was?"

For a moment, Leia stared at her blankly, understanding neither the question nor the reason for it. Ahsoka, though, seemed mostly sad, her gaze distant, brows drawn together in worry. Leia slid her hands along the arms of her chair until they reached the ends, her nails clicking lightly off the polished metal. "How he was?"

A nod. "Maybe it's a stupid question." She closed her eyes. "I was just hoping maybe I was right."

Not long after Endor, Luke said something that echoed the phrase: "I suspected there was still good in him. He told me to tell my sister I was right."

If the Emperor was the diabolical force of evil behind the Empire, Vader was its' all consuming specter. The mere thought of the man formed fresh terror in her belly, even in memory. She remembered being questioned on board the Death Star, of the drugs and the prodding at her mind, the invasiveness of a man in black clogging up her brain with his deep voice and mechanical breathing, his demands for information, for loyalty. She remembered being backed up against him by a menacing Tarkin, moments before he ordered the destruction of Alderaan, home, and she remembered that Vader did nothing to stop it, only let Tarkin do as he pleased. Billions dead. He was the stuff of nightmares, and he haunted hers. A monster that commanded other monsters.

Her father.

Ahsoka was looking at her, contemplatively. "He wasn't always as you knew him," she offered quietly.

Her brother. Luke was alive because Vader protected him. She couldn't forgive him for everything else. One act of righteousness at the bitter end did not undo all the crimes he committed during his life; but in this one thing – just this one thing – she could find a little softness. Luke was still alive because of him. "Luke believed there was still good in him. He told me Vader said he was right. Luke is still alive because of it."

Ahsoka's eyes suddenly had tears in them, and she turned away so that Leia could not see. She said, after a moment, "That is good."

Leia's voice was harsh. "He was my father."

Ahsoka's voice was quiet. "I know. He was my friend."

The room lay silent, save for their breathing.

Leia lifted her head from where it was bowed. There was so much this woman could tell her, about so many things. And not all of them were about Vader. She didn't want to know about Vader. Not now. Someday, she would have to learn, but not now. Not yet. But there was another she did wish to know about. "Did you know my mother?"

Still distant, staring out the window at the skyline, Ahsoka started, blinked, then grinned, giving her an odd look, almost as though she were examining her hair. "Oh yes. She was much like you. And I think you're closer to her than you know."

There was still sadness in Ahsoka's tone, but her lightheartedness in regards to her mother seemed genuine. Leia didn't know what to think of her mother. What kind of woman fell in love with Darth Vader? Or had she fallen in love at all? In her darker considerations, she feared her mother was forced. Ahsoka's brightness allayed some of that fear. "Who was she?"

Ahsoka laughed, lightly. "A long time ago, I gave you a homework assignment. If you can remember what it was, you'll have your answer." She looked around the office, pointedly, with a grin. "If she could see you, she'd be proud. And pleased."

Homework? Her office? Leia stared at the woman, uncomprehending. Did her mother work in politics? Ahsoka seemed amused by her confusion, chuckling. "She was a good person, Leia. And Anakin Skywalker was not always a bad man. Don't let your imagination run to dark places. You won't find your answers there."

She held her lightsaber firmly in her hand, admired it for a moment, then smiled, lowering it to waist-height, and hooking it onto her belt. Head bent, Ahsoka swiveled slightly to the side, just fast enough to watch the weapon sway against her hip. She rested a hand against the pommel, reassured. The weight tugged slightly at her belt. It took her years to grow accustomed to wearing the lightsaber in its holster beneath her arm, hidden away where no one could see it. She'd wished so many times for the day she could wear it openly again.

"It's been just over twenty years since I've been able to wear my lightsaber where it belongs. It's good, to feel it back where it's supposed to be." The view outside the window wasn't the same as the one from the council chambers, nor did it face the Temple's ruin, but the cityscape was familiar and similar nonetheless. The sunlight was just as warm, and the city just as busy. Skylanes were flowing with afternoon traffic, and the sun was glinting off the rooftops in a steady stream, seeming to flow towards her as it slowly sank towards sunset.

"You'll visit again?" Leia asked. Still so many questions, all left unanswered.

Ahsoka placed her hands on her hips, brushing the edges of her coat back far enough to expose the trademark lightsaber. She seemed thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "I'll be watching."

Leia rose from her seat and stepped forward. She did not move to stand beside this strange Jedi woman, but she did move into the square of light that cut across the floor, as provided by the window. "And you'll still be welcome."

She received a warm smile in return.

Ahsoka did not leave, not immediately. For a little while, they stood quietly, not quite together, but neither were they far apart, both just inside the patch of sunlight offered by the window.

Outside the glass, the galaxy moved forward into the future.

The End.

Again, many thanks to you all, for all your kind words and support throughout the writing of this trilogy. It has been a pleasure and an honor writing for you all.

Please look forward to a new story (though not in this timeline) early next year.

~Queen