Thanks to Guest, for popping in with your uplifting comment last chapter (I needed that). Has anyone seen TLJ yet? Come on in for a dose of Luke of old.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Ah, little X-Wing, Luke sighed as he squirmed about in the cockpit, trying to get comfortable. It felt great to be in it again, like wearing his lightsaber. He wouldn't want his ship to get the wrong idea- he loved it, but- you sure are a shitty way to travel.
It seemed they'd have some sort of adventure no matter how simple their needs: they got taken over by a small sandstorm between the Lars farm and the canyons, and Leia's speeder stalled and they had to walk. She wasn't concerned at all about it, but Lando, Han, Chewie and Luke stood about it for a moment, lamenting the cost and the machine. Finally, because the wind kept pushing sand into their mouths when they talked, they let it go. The jawas would find it eventually. They had equipment to find metal buried under the sand.
"It'll show up in the used lot for sale in a few months," Luke shouted over the storm.
"And I'm sure they'll ask way too much," Leia yelled back.
Han had offered him space on the Falcon. He wouldn't be doing the flying, but he was still captain. Luke was tempted to go- he just wanted to stay with the others. Relax, talk. Play holochess. Make sure Han didn't keel over from being sick still. Peace was rare, but it hadn't been won yet.
He was tempted, yes. The jawas would never get over the find of a whole, functioning X-Wing in the canyons, but Luke had a feeling the Alliance would not appreciate its loss, so he declined Han's offer. And since he was alone, he decided to go and have a conversation that should have been had a while ago.
He'd promised Master Yoda he would return. The promise was to finish his training, because they- Yoda and Ben- had told him he hadn't. Well, he felt he didn't need more. Real life turned out to be a better teacher. But he would go, because a good man kept his promise. Uncle Owen had taught him that. He also wanted Yoda to see the Jedi he'd become. And he wanted Yoda to know, if he didn't already, that Luke knew what they'd been hiding from him.
Fear leads to the dark side. Luke humphed at his master's words. It wasn't true. Master Yoda was of the light, but he'd been very afraid.
The others disappeared into the Falcon, anxious to get out of the storm, and Luke lifted R2 into the astromech port with the Force, but on the back side where the others wouldn't see him use it. Not that they'd be able to see anything in this storm, but for some reason he felt private about it. Then he clambered up the ladder and squeezed into his flight suit in the cramped space. While R2 connected with the pulley to stow the ladder and shut the hatch, he warmed the engines and looked out at the Millennium Falcon.
He brushed grains of sand off his own console that sneaked in when the canopy opened, and strained his eyes towards the cockpit of Han's ship. Nobody really said goodbye, he thought. They were all headed for the same destination, so it was more, "see you there," but now that they were all on separate ships, Luke felt oddly lonely.
The storm obliterated most of his vision, but the ramp was up, lights were on, and there might be movement in the cockpit. Chewie, Luke figured, in the copilot's seat, and probably Lando in the captain's chair.
Lando had announced his intention to join the Alliance. "I'm ready to do some good," he told the group. "Settle down."
"Are you ready to die in battle?" Chewie asked.
"Well, I'm hoping I can avoid that part," Lando admitted to laughter.
Luke grinned as another temptation hit him: to make a ship-to-ship and advise Chewie to switch the board so he was doing the piloting and not Lando. False pilot. He chuckled to himself, and bet ten credits Chewie had already done that, and not as a joke.
"Hey, Chewie?" he hailed.
There was an answering roar, and he heard Lando. "What can I do for you, Luke?"
He sounded sincere, so Luke resisted teasing him. "I forgot to tell Leia something."
"Sure, I'll patch it back to the engineering station."
Luke waited a moment, then Leia came on. "Luke?" she sounded breathy, and anxious.
"I just decided," he told her. "I'm going to make a small detour and see an old friend."
"Anyone I know?" Lando chimed in, and Chewie bellowed for Lando to stay out of other's conversations.
"I don't think so," Luke said tolerantly.
"Anyone I know?" Chewie asked.
Luke laughed. "You might. You're old enough. Leia, you still there? Han comfortable?"
Leia's voice was dry, but affectionate. "He's making an inspection. Bumped his knee twice. Are you going to- to see your master?"
"Yeah. I'll meet you back at the fleet in a little while."
"Is that Luke?" he could hear Han in the background. Then closer, "Hey, Luke... Thanks." His voice sounded thick. "Thanks for coming after me."
Luke grinned inside his helmet. "Think nothing of it," he told Han.
"I'm thinking," Han said. "I'm thinking now I owe you one."
Luke's grin turned puzzled. On Hoth, last he remembered, Han tallied two on his side. Now he was minus one, and there'd been only one rescue. It showed how little value Han put on his own life, Luke thought sadly.
There were murmurs on the other end of the comm, Leia ushering Han away. "Hurry back," she returned to Luke. "The Alliance should be assembled by now."
"I will," he promised.
The Falcon warmed up faster. One of Han's adaptations for quick getaways, and Luke waved as the freighter lifted off, though he doubted anyone saw. The ship disappeared into the dark sky of the storm, and Luke gave it time until he was sure it had reached upper atmosphere before he took his Wing up.
R2 beeped.
"Yes, we're going to Dagobah," Luke told his droid.
R2 made a resigned whistle.
"I'm sure it's still wet."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Landing was an entirely different experience than his first time here. It was calm and smooth. Still in water, but more a deep puddle; there was solid ground he managed to anchor to. Luke shed his flight suit and walked on the mossy damp ground.
He was wearing his 'Vader outfit', as Leia called it. He made one addition: a single black glove covering the damaged skin of his prosthetic hand. He wondered if Yoda would give it the same reception Leia had given it the first time she saw it. She was fine with it now. "I just needed to get used to it. It's a good fit," she decided to him.
It was odd, he reflected. He was so familiar with this part of Dagobah. He'd run all sides of the swamp for months, could see the trails he'd stomped in his mind's eye, but it felt like a different place right now. He knew he was walking in the right direction, but he couldn't say he recognized where he was.
Well, he'd only been here a few months, and again only months had passed since he left. It might be he was seeing the swamp in a different season. Just because he'd been here before didn't mean he knew everything about it.
Surely, Yoda heard the X-Wing land. The bat-like mammals had all flapped away in a fright. But he wasn't out to meet Luke.
Luke tried to recall the routine. He wished he knew what time of day it was here right now. He hadn't thought to set his chrono. By the looks of the air, perhaps getting on late afternoon. The mist was starting to creep up. It felt good on Luke's cheeks, like his skin was absorbing water after living in the dry air of the desert.
If Yoda hadn't yet, he would go to the swamp and replenish the pot of perpetual stew with fresh water. Luke regretted his lack of foresight. He should have brought something for Yoda to eat. Something different. Even a ration bar.
There- just when Luke was starting to doubt himself and his memory, he spotted the huge old tree and the hut Yoda had made under the root ball. "Yoda?" he called loudly. And there was the smoke, from his fire.
Relieved and excited, Luke quickened his pace. Every few steps he called his master's name. He didn't knock on the door, just went in like he used to.
"Master Yoda," he said, ducking the low ceiling. "I've come back," he looked around for the diminutive being, "just like I promised."
He was right: Yoda was cooking. He only looked at Luke, then moved to the fire. Luke was surprised to see him rely on his cane as he grunted his way over to the stew pot. He was without vigor, looked smaller, less green. Luke, surprised at the change in his master, blurted, "I've only been gone a few months!"
"That face you make," Yoda said, and Luke averted his eyes quickly, "look I so old to your eyes?" He wasn't at all pleased to see Luke.
"No," Luke lied quickly. He wondered to himself, what happened? For Master Yoda was clearly very frail. Luke could hear air move through his chest as he breathed. He felt badly. Had he brought some illness to Dagobah? Transmitted a harmful disease that didn't affect a human?
He had described to Leia that Yoda was old. Old, yes, but not near death. How old was he anyway? Luke seemed to remember Yoda telling him he'd taught for over eight hundred years.
Yoda appeared to have read his thoughts. "When nine hundred years old you reach, look as good you will not!" and he seemed to think it was very funny.
But Luke was appalled. He'd come to- if he were honest, to preen a little; definitely reproach, but he thought now it to be in very bad taste. "I've come back to complete the training," he told Yoda, as if that would invigorate his aged master.
"Already know that what you need," Yoda sighed as Luke helped him into bed.
"Then I am a Jedi," Luke confirmed.
"Not yet," Yoda coughed. "One thing remains." He lifted his head to catch Luke's eyes. "Vader. You must confront Vader. Only then a Jedi you will be."
Luke fought the urge to roll his eyes and yell. Here they were, back to the same message. He looked down at the single black glove and relived the moment Vader maimed him. I did that already, he thought darkly. Why couldn't Yoda let this go? He had confronted Vader. He hadn't won, but he hadn't quite lost either. As a matter of fact, Luke felt he'd accomplished something quite remarkable. He didn't see Yoda leaving the swamp to duel Vader, did he?
Yoda was having difficulty talking, and he was talking about death. It's the last time I might see my master, Luke realized. But he wasn't exactly upset, or sad. This was another lesson in the Force: how to die. Yoda was calm, at peace, and only Luke's presence seemed to pull him from whatever sanctuary he'd retreated to.
Luke could not allow himself to remain silent. He might spend the rest of his life, like Yoda or Ben, alone and always wondering, what is the truth?
"I must know," he told Yoda, who seemed more eager to die than he was to talk to Luke. "Is Darth Vader my father?"
"Unfortunate this is, that you know," Yoda said.
"That I know the truth?" Luke demanded.
And Yoda said the same things he'd said when Luke left before. He tried to put the responsibility on Luke, for his haste to leave, for his failure to complete his training. Yoda was dying, and did not see his own accountability, and Luke was resentful. If you wanted me to stay, you could have told me.
Yet he watched in alarm as Yoda seemed to be failing quickly. He was freeing himself, Luke thought, of his physical surroundings. Maybe he knew he had to have one final talk with Luke before he died, and he'd been awaiting his former student. Even so, he'd been reluctant to talk to Luke. Because he wanted life, or because he dreaded the conversation?
Yoda knew he only had moments. "Strong in your family," Luke thought he heard him say. "Pass on what you have learned..." He tried to say more, but it came out garbled, strangled- death had him and Luke's heart was beating fast, his eyes wide. He could only watch. There was no stopping it.
And then, Yoda was gone. Gone, completely. In spirit and body. There was nothing left. There could be no burial, no grave. The Force did not allow attachments.
Luke stayed in the hut for a while, thinking. Then he put the fire out and went back to find R2. It weighed on him, how strongly Yoda wanted Vader dead. How it must be Luke to be the one to do it.
Luke felt terribly conflicted. There was a part of him that agreed; the part that flew through the rubble of Alderaan and fought the war. Vader was a symptom of the Empire, and he had to be brought down. But there was another part of him, a lonely, sad part; a son, a boy, who had the smallest glimpse of the love of a father only one time.
"I can't do it," he told R2, who whistled consolingly. A glowing caught his eye in the swamp, and the Force spirit of Ben was walking toward him.
Again, resentment bubbled up in him. Ben was already dead. Luke did not have to pity the sick and weak. "Obi Wan," he said, signalling he was aware of Ben's deceptions immediately. The first deception: he let Luke grow up thinking he was Ben, a weird desert hermit. The second, his infuriating attitude about Vader and Anakin. Ben still insisted the two were separate men, sharing the same body at different times. It all, he told Luke, depended on your point of view.
Ben still loved Anakin. Luke sensed it. "There's still good in Vader," he told Ben.
"He's more machine than man now," Ben answered sadly.
Luke shook his head. "I can't kill my own father." He had been planning on informing Yoda he wouldn't kill his father. That their training had backfired. That they themselves were under the influence of the dark side and they didn't even know it.
They told him things, lies. Your father was murdered. They trained him to want his father. To avenge his father. To hate his father's killer. Well, hate leads to the dark side, isn't that right?
Luke had thought, maybe, his masters would see his wisdom, themselves learn why they had failed.
But Ben jerked at Luke's statement like he'd been shot. "Then the Emperor has already won. You were our only hope."
Luke shook his head. To him, this was another lie. There were others that were Force-sensitive- Leia, for example- that, with training, could develop their talents. And these others didn't have the same internal conflict Luke did about killing Darth Vader. He wasn't their father too, was he?
"Yoda spoke of another," Luke broached the subject carefully. If he mentioned about Leia, what would Ben say?
"The other he spoke of is your twin sister."
And Luke felt his stomach plummet the same as his heart lifted. His eyes no longer saw the swamp and Ben gave an explanation he paid no attention to. It was there, in front of him, he caught her scent, all this time, and it was the most joyous, wonderful realization. Better than watching your mother as a beautiful mirage, better than meeting your father for the first time in a contest. Because this person, this sister- oh my words- she was real, she was alive. She was someone he could share his life with. He had a family. A real, loving family. One no one could take away. She would welcome him. They would love and laugh and fight. And be together, even when they were apart. He had a sister.
Luke's whole body was quivering. He was- gods, so many things- scared and overjoyed, exhilarated and frantic. He wanted to rush out of the swamp, find her, grab her in a hug. He wanted to tell her everything about himself, even though she knew, but now she had to know it as his sister. He wanted to know everything about her, go back to that hole in the tower she'd put in her Lace, The Constellation of the Three Goddesses and say show me, show me Leilei and he wanted to grab Han by the collar and say you be careful, you bastard. We are the luckiest men in the galaxy.
He could fly, he was so irrationally sure, right now, to Sullust, just in his Vader clothes, no X-Wing; just on the knowledge, the sheer joy, that Leia was his sister.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Short but sweet.
