Chapter Thirty-Six:

It was another full day before Leia came up to him with the news that made him squirm.

"A medal ceremony?" He gaped. "Why?"

"Because you are a hero," Leia replied.

"No I'm not." Luke shook his head. "And I don't want a medal to honor the untold number I killed with one shot."

Leia sighed and placed a hand on his arm. "Luke, you did not murder anyone if that's what's bothering you. Yes, a good number of people were killed in the Death Star's destruction. But think of the people on Alderaan, and of any other systems that may have also fallen prey to the superlaser the thing carried."

Luke bit his lip, holding back a sigh. He appreciated her words, he really did… but she just didn't get it. No one seemed to understand.

Luke glanced back to where Shmi was playing with Chewbacca near the Millennium Falcon. He'd managed to shield her from his depression, but he didn't know if he could keep it up indefinitely.

"I still don't want to be rewarded," Luke said softly, eyes following his daughter still.

"Then don't think of it that way," Leia urged gently.

Luke turned back to her, lifting a questioning brow.

"The people in the Alliance need this Luke," Leia informed him. "I know your welcome among the pilots wasn't the warmest, but you brought us something we were seriously beginning to lack: hope."

She gestured to the motley assembly of technicians and other random personnel in the hangar bay.

"They need to be given a symbol of optimism, and right now that icon is you. You did so much more than just destroy a super weapon, Luke. You gave these people back their fire. I see springs in steps that had become heavy-laden after months of little to no success. Our pilots are more willing to go up now, and morale is higher than I have ever seen it." She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "I know you don't want to be celebrated, because that's the good man you are. But if you won't do it for yourself, then please do it for the Alliance. Give them a celebration, a reason to keep fighting."

Luke swallowed at the feel of her hand upon his cheek, feeling his heart reach for her. He tried to keep his emotional confusion from surfacing, but then Leia's eyes flickered with something foreign, and she pulled away haltingly.

"Just let me know, okay?" she began to walk away.

"Leia."

The princess paused, turning back around.

"I'll do it." Luke agreed.

Her smile was warm and grateful all at once. "Thank you Luke. I'll arrange everything. It'll be tomorrow morning."

Luke's brow lifted. "That soon?"

Leia nodded. "We won't be staying on Yavin IV much longer, because the Empire won't sit around twiddling their thumbs once they get wind of what happened here."

"That does make sense," Luke murmured. "Where will we go next?"

"I'm not certain just yet; we are still figuring that out." Leia smiled at him. "See you around Luke."

00000

Later that night, when Shmi was fast asleep in her bed, Luke lay awake in his bunk, unable to sleep. As he'd told Han yesterday, everything was catching up with him, now that he was no longer running on overdrive.

At the present his mind was on everything at once, with it all swirling around in a chaotic mess.

Finally he could stand it no longer, and he got out of bed to silently leave the room, but not before checking on Shmi.

Then he was out in the hall, where he wandered aimlessly for he didn't know how long, trying to collect his mind into some semblance of order.

He found the first bit of control by focusing on Owen and Beru.

What had been on their minds as they burned? Had they begged for mercy?

No, Luke couldn't imagine they would have, especially not Owen. He would have fought to the end, standing tall, and Beru would have been there with him.

Then there was the loss of Ben Kenobi. Ben had been an anchor for him on a few occasions, saving him from himself when he needed it most. If it hadn't been for the old Jedi, Luke was certain he would not have made it through Shmi's first nine months of existence.

Shmi… she was truly the only bright constant in his life anymore, for which he was eternally grateful. Shmi kept him anchored when he was certain that otherwise he'd be floundering in the dark like some wet-behind-the-ears boy.

He would and already had done anything and everything to protect Shmi… to save her. Including giving her up to a man he'd only known for a few days.

The memory still plagued his heart in his darkest hours, and the thought of how close Shmi had come to being made an orphan was not something he chose to dwell on.

Of course, the reason for that near-orphanage was freshest on his conscience.

The Death Star.

How many people had been on board? How many of them had been innocent men, simply doing their job to provide for families?

How many widows and orphans now littered the Empire because Luke had made that 'impossible shot'?

Overcome, Luke's knees buckled and he collapsed against the nearest wall, unaware of where he was in that moment. He slid down further and trembled on hands and knees, staring without really seeing at the worn stone ground beneath him.

He didn't care what Leia had told him: he had killed thousands— or was it in the millions?— of people. And now, like ripples from a stone thrown into a pond, Luke's actions had now touched and probably ruined the lives of so many more.

He finally collapsed to his stomach on the floor, huddling into himself as sobs wracked his body.

All his aches, pains and sorrows came crashing down upon him, though the Death Star reality had been the straw to break the precariously balanced pile atop Luke's shoulders.

"Luke?"

He jumped when the voice was joined by a tentative hand upon his back, and when he jerked his head up in alarm, it was to see a concerned Wedge looking upon him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Wedge asked worriedly.

Ashamed of himself, Luke hurriedly brushed at his face and sat upright, only then seeing where he was. He had ended up in the hangar bay… again. He was in the far corner, near to where his X-wing rested.

Luke shook his head at the irony: he should've known he'd end up there, what with is thoughts focused on the recent battle.

"Luke?" Wedge pressed, kneeling before him.

"What are you doing up?" Luke asked hoarsely, attempting to deflect the man's interest.

"I was getting a cup of caf when I saw you ambling down the halls, seemingly lost," Wedge admitted. "You looked troubled, so I followed you to make certain you would be alright."

Then Wedge snorted. "But of course that's ridiculous. You certainly don't look fine."

Luke didn't know how to respond to that, so he simply nodded slowly, staring at his clasped hands. Wedge studied him for a moment longer, and then settled next to his fellow pilot on the floor.

When the man did not launch into a multitude of questions, Luke found himself relieved, and ever so grateful. Wedge simply offered silent companionship, and Luke got the feeling that of all the persons' on this base, Wedge was the one who could most likely sympathize with what Luke was going through.

"You know, the first time I flew with Red Squadron I was so eager to kick some Imperial tails that I never stopped to figure out just what that meant," Wedge said softly. "I was rearing to get some action, and I remember Lead giving me these looks, and I couldn't help but feel like he was waiting for me to be knocked off of my high." Wedge laughed bitterly. "Little did he know how soon that would happen."

"We were assigned to take out an Imperial supply convoy, and part of the job was to help secure as much of the cargo for the Alliance as possible. I was selected to be one of the men on the ground, and a firefight ensued." Wedge went on. "At one point I ended up going man-to-man with a stormtrooper. I won, but the killing blow also knocked the man's helmet off."

Wedge paused to collect himself. "I'll never forget the feeling that hit me, like a ronto had just kicked me in the gut. I looked down… and saw a man. Just a man." He shuddered at the memory. "That was when reality really set in for me. That was when I started to see the people around me as just that: people. Sure we were fighting opposite sides of the war, but the base was still there. I wasn't just killing bucket-heads; I was killing good men, with families of some sort in some place I didn't know of."

Wedge looked to Luke now, who was regarding his fellow soldier in a new light. The dark-haired man had Luke's complete attention.

"On the jump back to Home one— that's the Alliance flagship— I had lots of time to think. Too much perhaps," Wedge amended. "But eventually I began to think of the mothers who were going to answer their doors in the next few days… not to a returning son, but to a letter from an officer telling them their child was never again coming home."

He swallowed hard, blinking at tears. "I couldn't sleep for three full nights. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that man… and then I'd see his mother, or his wife, his children…" Wedge shook his head. "I had to learn to live with that, because we are at war. And it took a bit of time, and a lot of help from friends, but I eventually did come to terms with it."

Now Wedge laid a hand on Luke's arm. "I am not telling you that you have to forget, because you will never fail to remember the Death Star. All I'm saying is that you need to accept it and move on. Don't let it eat you up so much that you lose sight of the important things, and fail to live. Especially with Shmi. She needs her father; now more than ever if you two really are going to stick around.

"Now, I don't know your history, but I can assure you that whatever happened in the past needs to stay there. Don't let it ruin your future by dwelling on it in the present." Wedge finished, dropping his hand.

Luke simply stared at the man beside him, too lost in thought and taken aback by the soul-dumping Wedge had just offered to Luke.

However, the more the silence went on, the more Luke's story just ached to come free. And so, without concern for how foolish he might seem to Wedge, Luke opened his mouth and began to talk.

"We are here today because my uncle bought Artoo and Threepio…" he started.

He didn't know how much time had passed as Luke recounted his tale up to the point at which Wedge had found him on the floor.

"And it's just been eating away at me." Luke sighed. "Because I just… it's like no one understands. And I know they are just trying to help; with their well-wishes and words of comfort, but…"

When he trailed off, Wedge nodded. "It takes someone who's been in that situation to get it."

"Exactly," Luke agreed emphatically, and they lapsed into another brief hush before he spoke once more. "Thank you for your words, you really did help me."

Wedge offered a small smile. "No problem. I saw your face, and I heard from Princess Leia that you've been reserved the past few days. I'm just glad I got through to you."

"You did." Luke nodded.

They fell into a companionable silence, in which both men simply enjoyed having been able to vent without fear of judgment.

Wedge was the one to break the moment of quiet.

"May I ask… if it's not too sensitive a topic…"

"Go ahead," Luke said without turning his head.

"Where is Shmi's mother?"

Luke froze for a heartbeat in shock, not having expected that. Wedge must have seen something in his face, because he began to backtrack.

"Sorry: that was insensitive, and none of my business."

"No," Luke said quickly, recovering. "You just caught me off guard is all. I don't mind."

Wedge relaxed as he heard the truthful tone in Luke's voice.

"Shmi… well, her mother and I slept together when I was fifteen. The pregnancy was… a difficult time for me, as everyone believed I had forced Venussia to sleep with me," Luke said. "See, we were caught in a sandstorm on our way home from a party, and she got bored. She decided to seduce me, despite my attempts to stave her off."

Luke sighed. "Anyway, one thing led to another and I was shunned and ridiculed by all… including my aunt and uncle. I was all alone, and it hurt so much! Eventually things started to look better and I was allowed to help Venussia with the pregnancy and the birth. Once I held Shmi in my arms… I just knew I'd never be able to forgive myself if I ever let her go."

Wedge cocked his head. "So, does this Venussia have any guardianship over Shmi?"

"None." Luke shook his head, feeling old anger stir, but he forced it away. "She didn't even want the child. She was ready to give our daughter up the moment Shmi was born, but I wouldn't have it. I am her only remaining guardian now that Owen and Beru have passed."

Wedge nodded. "Well, Shmi seems like a wonderful girl, you should be proud."

Luke smiled. "I am."

"I understand she turned five recently?" Wedge asked.

Luke's grin widened. "Yes. She is getting so big."

"She's beautiful, Luke," Wedge said sincerely. "She will definitely be drawing stares when she's older."

Luke offered Wedge a mixed look of horror and humor. "Please don't say that, I want her to stay young and innocent for as long as possible!"

Wedge blushed. "Sorry, but you know she will be grown up at some point."

"I know," Luke said softly, sobering. "I'll just have to cherish all the moments and memories I can until then."

A spike of something in the Force caught Luke's attention, and he frowned. Then the signature attached to the feeling registered, and Luke glanced at his chrono.

"My goodness, its dawn!" Luke struggled to his feet. "Shmi is waking up, I'd better go."

Luke offered Wedge a hand up, which his friend took.

"Yeah, you'd better get cleaned up and ready before Leia finds out you're stalling her big event," Wedge teased.

Luke laughed with him, and they began to wander back toward the main part of the base.

"Wedge?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Luke said sincerely. "Thank you for being a true friend."

"Anytime." Wedge clapped him on the back they parted ways. "See ya at the ceremony."