.
.
.
Leia walked down the narrow corridors of the Wasp, feeling, for the first time ever, on edge in an Alliance vessel. Because of Madine; Madine, who was playing his own power games. Madine, who was splitting the Alliance in two with this; Madine, who had captured and imprisoned her own… her own brother.
Though the General's power plays had gained her something; she'd been allowed onboard the Wasp with minimal conflict after only four days' wait, mainly due to the fact that Madine was still working hard to gain popularity and standing on the back of his actions, and since the Council had backed Leia's request to see the Emperor, he'd been unable to object too much—and for the same reason, Leia felt reasonably safe in coming here…for now. Not that safe that she hadn't brought two Frigates to the meeting point and an 'honor guard' of ten commandos onboard with her of course, but that was just common sense.
In fact, at the moment, Leia was far more worried about what Han—who had remained conspicuously onboard Home One when Leia had left, in accordance with Madine's conditions of her visit—might do off his own back than whatever Madine would muster, still seeking maintain favour in the Council.
Han however, had no such political leanings, so the only thing that was holding him in check right now was Leia's request of him not to do anything yet, for Luke's sake. But she knew that the moment she got back, Han would fire a hundred questions at her about the Wasp, its layout and its defences. And she knew why.
To Leia's mind, their best bet was still to get Luke off the Wasp and onboard Home One, where she had control of the situation, and to that end she was unwilling to do anything which would exacerbate the situation until she had to; Han was right—Madine wasn't the kind of man you backed into a corner or tried to bluff.
Still, at the back of her mind right now, as she walked the Wasp's corridors behind her wary guides, she was aware of counting troop numbers and looking for security and defences, should it come to a fight. And since four of the six commandos Tag Massa had assigned to Leia were Intel, she was pretty sure that Tag was thinking the same, sending trained eyes and ears in to gain valuable information.
Tag had, of course, been her usual efficient self before Leia had set off for the rendezvous, trying to offer a level voice when Han had been pushing to get a transmitter onboard the Wasp so they could track it, and Leia had been reticent, not wishing to risk its discovery.
"What's he gonna do if he does find it," Han had said, "tell the Council? I don't think so. Worst case, he finds it and disables it."
"And becomes more awkward because of it." Leia had said firmly.
"Could he be any more awkward?" Han had growled.
Tag had shrugged, voice neutral, "He could take what he knows about Leia to the Council."
Han had rocked back in the chair he sat in, rubbing his face, frustration obvious. He was, she knew, painfully aware of the days counting down and like her, his thoughts were on what would happen when they reached zero.
Perhaps the only answer was to take this to trial; at least it would buy time. But some on the Council were beginning to whisper, as the first wave of shock died down; beginning to ask whether, in view of continuing reforms, a trial was the right course under any terms. And Force help her, but knowing that Luke had been pushing to start peace talks, Leia desperately wanted to stand by them.
.
In a quieter moment, just before Leia had set out for the Wasp, the Intel Chief had again come forward, "I'm assuming you'll want to speak to him privately…"
Leia had glanced down; Tag was holding out a small anti-surveillance scrambler, about half the length of Leia's little finger and close to the same size round. Smiling, Leia pulled the smaller anti-surveillance device that Han had given her long ago from her pocket, "Snap."
"May I?" Tag took Leia's device and studied it, then held out the one she'd offered. "Take this one, it won't show up on any surveillance sweep unless it's active at the time, plus we know for a fact that it'll de-rezz any surveillance equipment within about ten standard meters. Just press the button to activate or deactivate it—it's magnetic so you can place it or leave it just about anywhere onboard a ship. They'll know you have it the moment you start using it though."
"But if they admit that, then they admit they were trying to eavesdrop." Leia said, and Tag smiled approvingly.
"Hey, want a job in Intel?"
Leia took the small device, then paused; though she doubted they'd frisk the leader of the Alliance, putting it in a pocket wasn't an option, even small as it was. For a moment she dithered uncertain, then remembering, she lifted her hands and pushed it onto the inside of the wide hammered metal slide she wore pinned across the plaited bun of her hair, gathered at the nape of her neck. Now, when she wanted it working, she had only to reach up as if neatening her hair to push the button.
Tag took another step forward as Leia turned to go, "Ma'am? Here." She held out a small, short plexiglass sample syringe, the needle inset and still sealed. "Push it against his skin and slap the back. The needle will release and take a small sample."
Leia glanced up and Tag shrugged, "You want to be sure? This is sure. Don't let it out of your sight, and…" Tag shrugged again, "I'd probably ask first."
Leia had to smile.
.
.
Now she passed into the main storage bay onboard the Wasp, where a huge dome had been roughly constructed from a jigsaw of interlocking blocks in some kind of composite Leia didn't recognize, a series of heavy flexible pipes set into its surface, trailing back to what looked to Leia like an industrial vacuum system, rattling on its heavy tubular mounts. It all looked ad-hock and out of place, a solid, cumbersome construction in the centre of the freighter's vast, empty hold.
She walked round its edge following her four guides, all of whom seemed unsettled at her appearance, so much so that Leia was beginning to wonder whether Madine—who hadn't yet bothered to show his face, though that was more of a relief than a snub—had told anyone of her impending arrival.
When they slowed, Leia frowned, confused; she was assuming they'd go round the dome and on into the living quarters…
One of Madine's men hit an industrial switch box roughly bolted into the dome beside a heavy door—and Leia realized she was looking at the construction they were using to keep Luke captive! This was a cell—this was his actual cell!
The door opened on a powered cycle and Leia motioned for the commandos to wait here, knowing they'd not allow anyone outside close enough to eavesdrop, then, squaring her shoulders, she set forward.
.
.
.
In the locked cell, Luke sat tethered to the heavy table again, gritty, burning eyes intent on the locked door; they'd woken him at least a half-dozen times last night, each time shaking him awake and dragging him over to the table to force him to sit, tethering him to the hook set into it by the short, solid post that linked his wrist binders, then leaving him there, waiting, one guard always behind him to shake him awake if he tried to rest his head on the table. Within the hour they'd return, shake him upright and haul him back to the bunk... only to do the same thing again and again throughout the night and what was now presumably the following morning, though he had no real concept of time any more. It should have bothered him a lot more than it did, but Palpatine had used similar softening methods so often over the years that now the mental haze and vague dizziness which came with this kind of deprivation was, if not comfortable, then at least familiar enough that he knew what to expect when; this was only one night—he knew he could make three before the cramps started.
Still, this was the longest they'd left him sat at the table in the centre of the room and more interestingly this time he was alone, which left him torn between studying the exit before him which he was unable to reach at full-stretch when chained to the bunk, or simply laying his head down on the table to take even the briefest chance to sleep. But this was also the first time that they'd left the inner door to his cell open as they'd walked out, not bothering to reinstate the vacuum and locking only the outer one, giving Luke a clear view of the short, single-stride corridor which spanned the void between the inner and outer walls of the cell. He'd watched in silence as the heavy outer door closed with a reverberating clang, wondering what was different today; heard the dull thud of the door's substantial four-stage powered lock pushing home…and it came in a flash of realization;
Powered; the doors were powered—unlike the original, they had conventional locks…why?
He could see from where he sat that the short, confined corridor which separated the inner and the outer walls of his cell had the same large mechanized vents on its sides as the original on Coruscant, separating the short corridor from the larger void between the walls and enabling them to keep the wall void under vacuum and simply open or close the vents to pressurize or depressurize the short corridor between the two doors. It seemed, to all intents and purposes, the same as the cell beneath the Palace...so why have powered locks?
The original cell had relied on the massive force of the vacuum to hold the doors closed more securely than any lock, a method Palpatine had devised to stop Luke concentrating his abilities on forcing a conventional lock…so why this—why use a powered lock in a vacuum? Luke stared intently, aware that he was weaving just slightly with tiredness, mind going back again and again over the same facts… The vacuum; concentrate on the vacuum…the only explanation for the fact that the doors weren't being locked by the vacuum itself was that the vacuum was insufficient. Hadn't he thought that the very first time he'd woken here? He couldn't quite remember, his tired mind struggling to find a use for that fact; to remember every detail he could see so that… The staged lock released, the outer door opening again…
And Leia stepped into the corridor, tense and wired.
.
.
She saw him as soon as the door opened; saw him lift his head, saw his eyes widen… then everything else was lost beneath the shock of his appearance, dirty and bruised, a swollen lip and wide gash across the bridge of his nose which had spread to black one eye to the same side as that long, old scar. He wore a creased, faded flight suit, his dark hair ruffled into disarray, his wrists tethered... but when he saw Leia he straightened, eyes sharpening, as if it were any other meeting that they'd had, nothing more given away or allowed.
Watched in silence by him, his back straight, face completely unreadable, Leia stepped into the strange cell, two of Madine's troops following closely behind to take up positions to one side.
She turned to them, head held high. "You can go, it's alright."
The two troopers paused, uncertain. "Sorry Ma'am, we have orders from Madine to…"
"Now you have orders from me." Leia drew herself up to her full height, which was hardly imposing, but she'd been a diplomat and a leader all her life, and as Han took every chance to tell her, if there was one thing she knew how to do, it was hand out orders.
The stalemate held for a few seconds longer as Leia stared, expectant…then the nearer soldier glanced to his comrade, "C'mon. It's not like he's going anywhere."
For a moment Leia thought the second soldier would argue, but then he grinned, following followed his mate to the door, "Nowhere outside'a ninety meters, at any rate."
Leia remained still as they left, listening to their voices recede. Alone now, she paused, suddenly uncertain how to proceed. "May I sit down?"
Luke glanced briefly to the closing outer door behind her then to the security lens on the wall, clearly uncertain what was going on. After a few moments, Leia pulled out the chair opposite him to sit. Closer now, she could see how tired he was, how drawn. Could see the split in his swollen lip—and she realized that he was actually tethered to the heavy desk before him.
"I…came to see how you were."
"Seriously?" He seemed amused for a second, then gave a small smile and a tilt of his head, "I've been worse."
"Is there anything you need?"
"That you can give me? No."
Leia glanced down, "The intention is to have you stand trial on.."
"Yeah, Madine's explained to me exactly his intention."
Leia paused, taking in his obvious tiredness, his reticence, his wary confusion and awkward, intractable manner. She'd thought he would be different—but she supposed she should have known otherwise; she would be exactly the same in this situation…
Exactly the same… she was looking at her own brother, probably her twin. Leia had run over these facts a thousand times in the last few days, and slowly, it had all begun to make a kind of sense; that was why he'd protected her at the Patriot's launch over Coruscant years ago, that was why he hadn't simply arrested her and handed her over to Palpatine. Why it was her alone he'd wanted to speak to when he made first contact with the Alliance, why it was her he'd tried to win over, why… everything.
It all seemed so clear; it all made sense. Leia straightened, bracing herself, lifting her hand casually to straighten her hair…
"I've just deactivated their surveillance system. I don't know how long we'll have before they decide they don't like that and come in to make me leave."
Luke's mismatched eyes flitted briefly to the lenses, then to the closed outer door, then back to Leia, fine creases at their edges betraying his confusion.
Knowing they'd have little time, Leia rushed to explain. "You should know it's taken me four days of negotiation and rallying the Council to back Madine into a corner sufficiently to get this meeting. We're trying to get you transferred over to Home One, but Madine's…"
"Where am I now?"
"You're still on the Wasp."
"What's outside the cell?"
"Nothing. It's in the main hold—that's where they've built it."
"The soldiers—they're loyal to Madine, not to the Alliance?"
"I don't know…maybe. Probably, if it comes down to a fight."
"How many?"
"I don't know; I saw maybe twenty. Luke, I need to talk to you—"
"How did you get here?"
Leia frowned, "By shuttle—I travelled over from the Verity."
"Not Home One?"
"No, Madine won't let Home One anywhere near you. We have to talk…"
"Were there other shuttles in the bay when you landed?"
"Luke, I know—I know the truth; about you—about us. Madine told me."
"You shouldn't believe a word Madine says." Luke dismissed automatically.
"I don't, but we'd kept a sample of your blood on our medical files. We tested it against mine. Luke I know who you are, who I am—and I want to know the rest. Tell me."
He shook his head, "You tell me… because I don't know what you're talking about."
"Where were you born, Luke?"
He almost laughed, "Alderaan, if you believe some people."
She stiffened, "Who?"
"What's going on? Where was I born—you know where I was born; Tatooine."
"No, you weren't, were you? The truth, Luke." He frowned just slightly, and Leia pushed on. "I already know part of it—I know I'm your sister."
Luke straightened, the binders at his wrists rattling against their anchor as he leaned back in his chair, eyes widening, his reaction sufficient to halt Leia………then he laughed. He just laughed, uncertainty and dismissal and genuine amusement in his face.
And slowly, as he quieted to a smile, Leia realized the truth; "You really don't know, do you?"
He shook his head, still smiling, "I really don't know what to say."
"Luke, we're brother and sister. I had the genetic tests done…three times."
"Just…" his smile was beginning to fall away, eyes narrowing in confusion, "I don't… why are you even saying this?"
Luke's voice was beginning to rise, his frown of confusion turning to an angry scowl, eyes flicking to the surveillance lens. "What is this, what are you trying to do?"
"I thought you knew…"
"Knew, knew what, that you had some bizarre scheme to.."
He half-rose, hands lifting, the binders rattling against their keep, and Leia had pushed her chair quickly back before she realized it, recoiling, body tensing as she rose.…
"Wait!" Luke tried to hold his hands out, but was again stopped by the restraints, and Leia froze, uncertain. Still, he sat quickly, hands palm-down on the table, consciously relaxing. "Please?"
Leia slowly pulled her own chair back to the table to sit, heart still pounding, as angry at herself for overreacting as she was at Luke for the same…
The same.
She sighed, "Madine contacted me four days ago and told me you were my brother. I denied it too… but I had the test done. We're brother and sister—probably twins."
Luke was shaking his head in denial, "That can't be right—it can't be. You were from Alderaan—you're a member of the Royal Family."
"I was adopted, when I was just a few days old."
"This isn't…it can't be right." He tried again to lift his hands, this time to bring them to his face, and was jarred to an immediate halt by the binders.
Leia felt her heart crumple, watching him go through the self same doubts and bewilderment that she had, with nothing and no-one here to cushion the blow.
"Luke, I know this is hard to accept and I'm coming here with no proof, no explanation, nothing…but I promise you, on my life, this is true." He was still shaking his head, eyes wide now, his scowl melting into bewilderment and denial, but Leia held her ground. "The truth. What can I do to prove it to you?"
"You can't. I don't…" he stuttered to silence, staring at her.
"I have no answers, nothing but this, this one fact; we are brother and sister."
"No…we can't be. Bad blood—this line is bad blood."
Leia frowned, uncertain. "Bad blood?"
Luke only shook his head, looking down, lost.
Leia sighed gently, "What can I tell you? What can I do to help you believe me? Luke, when they told me…I think some part of me always knew—can you understand that? Don't you feel the same? I should have seen it long ago—I did. I dreamed of you so often." She shook her head, "I should have known…I always saw you in my dreams… I saw the wolf howling in the moonlight and I thought…I don't know, I.."
"Wait—you saw a wolf, and the moon?"
Leia shook her head in apology, "I didn't know, I didn't know you then…"
"It doesn't matter," he brushed it away, instantly focused, the change mercurial. "What else did you see?"
Leia shook her head, "They were just dreams."
"Some seemed so much more though, didn't they? Some you had over and over; some seemed so real…"
"…some." Her voice was small, uncertain now beneath the intensity of his attention.
"Tell me the others…tell me what you see?"
"I don't remember."
"Please?"
Leia hesitated, "I knew when you were coming for Mon—I knew!"
Those striking, mismatched eyes were locked on her, passionate and earnest and so completely Luke again in that moment, calling her on, drawing her in. "Tell me what you dream now—tell me exactly what you see?"
Leia shook her head again, uncomfortable beneath this sharp attention. "Nowadays? Just… a ring…two rings, I suppose. And a sun." She hesitated and he nodded reassuringly, completely attentive as she continued. "Well, sometimes one sun, sometimes… it might be two, very bright; sunflares forming a corona around them… but I don't think… I don't get the impression that they're real. I don't know…it's just a dream."
"I can't…if I could just…" he brought his hands up to rub at his temples, but was forced to lean forwards, the binders that held him too short even for this.
For long moments his head remained down on the table, resting in his hands, and Leia's eyes were drawn by the wide blood stain which had spread and dried unheeded across the back of the old flightsuit's collar and down onto his shoulder, his hair matted by a scar to the base of his skull. Leia wanted so much to put her hand to his shoulder in reassurance, but something held her back.
When he looked up, there was wild hope and utter frustration in his eyes, "I could take you through it if I just had access to…" he shook his head again.
"…I hear words." Leia offered at last, hoping to sooth him. "Well, not hear…but not read either—I can't read the script but…I just know."
"Script—you see words…written?"
Did she? She hadn't thought about it before; it was only a dream. "I don't know, I think so, but not written; chiseled maybe…. cut into something, like stone."
.
Luke stared for long seconds, a weight so great pressing down on him that he could barely breathe, a singular stillness taking over him as he heard his own voice, muted and resigned, finally accepting. "It's a throne…was. The Sunburst Throne; two suns, mirrored opposites, one to the front, one to the back, surrounded by sunflares. There's a prophesy engraved onto it, hidden in the carvings—an old prophesy—that's what you're seeing. Part of it's in the shape of two circles, one interlocking the other."
Leia frowned, clearly uncertain why this meant so much to him.
"It's us." Luke said simply into her confusion. "That's what it always was; us. Twin suns. Twin rings, twin riddles."
She was part of that balance; the balance was within them, good and bad, dark and light, yin and yang. It was so obvious; so obvious…now that he was looking at that one final piece to the puzzle. Staring at her and scaring her with his own precarious, insular calm; he could see it quite clearly.
Palpatine's words whispered again, taunting; "What do you fear, Jedi? What do you see in the dark when your demons come?"
"Bad blood…you can't be one of us Leia, you can't be. We're all bad blood."
Leia shook her head, "Why do you keep saying that?"
"Look at us! Look at Vader…my own father handed me over to the Emperor, knowing what he'd do! Do you want to claim part of that—part of that heritage?!"
Her huge hazel brown eyes widened and he knew instantly that the thought hadn't even occurred to her—perhaps she'd forgotten his admission of long ago, or dismissed it without another thought until this moment—but she rallied impressively, shaking her head, unwavering. "I think…the more I know you, the more I think that you do only what you perceive of as necessary."
With painful realization, Luke recognized the self-same thing he'd once accused Palpatine of with such derision; "I believe you capable of anything in pursuit of your goals."
Was he so very different now? Again Palpatine's accusations ran like a shiver through him, damning any possible future; "Bad blood…"
"Yes, I do, and I always will…don't you see? That makes me the most dangerous wolf of all."
"Let me help you…"
"No—I'll drag you down with me, I swear I will."
"I don't believe you—I don't believe you'd do that."
He shook his head, "You're wrong, you're very wrong. I know you're looking at me and you're seeing the man you used to know…but he doesn't exist any more. He doesn't exist. I'm Sith, a Sith trained by Palpatine. No matter what you think you see, that's what I am."
"But it's not all that you are, is it?" Luke frowned, and Leia pushed on, "Because you were trained by Yoda too, weren't you—you said it yourself the last time we spoke, you said Master Yoda had trained you when General Kenobi had died. I know who Master Yoda was. My father—" she stumbled over the word, freshly uncertain, "my adopted father, Bail Organa, spoke of Yoda many times. He was a Jedi Master, one of the Council of Twelve. Didn't you say that yourself, that he was a member of the Jedi Council? If you trained with him, as you said, then you trained as a Jedi."
Luke glanced down without speaking as Leia leaned in closer, taking his bound hands in her own. "You said something else to me that day too; I remember it distinctly, because it was one of the first things that made me begin to question… You said, whatever else you were, you were still that man who wouldn't leave his friends to die on Bespin…and I believe you."
He hunched back, unable to pull his hands free, unable to make her understand. "You don't know...you don't know what I am…"
"Yes I do," Leia said with absolute conviction. "That's why I'm here."
.
Leia stared as Luke held her gaze for a long, long time, a myriad of thoughts flashing across his eyes quicksilver fast, discernible in the subtle changes on his bruised face as he struggled with inner demons.
When he finally spoke there was an urgency to his words, "Do you trust me?"
Leia paused, deeply unsettled—but she held his eye, "I want to—very much."
"Then keep the talks going, don't let them collapse because of this."
Leia frowned, "We can do that—I hadn't ever thought otherwise for…" she trailed off, realizing what he was saying; that he wanted her to keep the talks going even though he wouldn't be there.
He pushed on, giving her no time to react, "You can't be involved in this! Cut Madine free, make an announcement today, distance yourself and the Alliance."
Leia recoiled, "No! Whilst he's one of us, I have at least some control over him—over this."
"Do you? You said it took four days just to see me. Leia, Madine will do what he wants, what he always intended. You have to back off from any connection to him; publicly distance yourself and the Alliance from his actions."
""Whilst he's one of us and we remain in contact, there's an opportunity to negotiate with him and help you…"
"He won't negotiate—he'll lay down demands and either you meet them or not. If you do, you'll have publicly backed him; become a part of this. Why would you even consider that?"
Leia glanced away, eyes troubled, and perhaps Luke did know Madine as well as he claimed, because he nodded now, voice low and rough. "Because of us. You said Madine told you about us…he's blackmailing you."
She looked to him, suddenly recklessly hopeful, "Maybe it doesn't matter."
"Who else knows?"
"Han, and my Intel chief, Commander Massa."
He nodded, looking down, eyes on his bound hands as he considered, mind clearly racing. "No-one can know—you'd lose control of the Alliance."
"Maybe I should just step down—."
Luke's eyes came to hers immediately, "No! No, absolutely not. What does he want?"
"He wants this to go to a military tribunal, which would give him complete control."
"And he's told you to back him so that it will, all above board and through the right channels?"
"I have fourteen days—nine now—to persuade the Council to vote in his favor." Leia glanced down, "I should let it go to trial; at least there's an opportunity to…."
"No—don't do it." He was absolutely, unshakable certain. "Going to trial will pull the whole of the Alliance in behind Madine's decisions. There'll be no difference in the public's eyes between Madine's actions and the Alliance's. You have to remain separate for the talks to work."
Leia frowned, "What?"
"I don't have time to explain. You said you wanted to trust me—trust me on this. Don't let it go to trial. He'll pull you all down with him because it'll be official Alliance policy. Right now, you still have a chance because if you publicly discharge and denounce Madine, then when he puts a gun to my head, it's Madine. You let this go to trial within the Alliance with Madine in command and it will still have only one possible conclusion, you know that—but then it'll be the Alliance, not the man. You cannot be associated with this, or everything we're trying to achieve will be lost—and I won't give that up to him, I won't let him take that away."
"Luke, one way or another I have to let this go to trial—if I don't, I lose any control of Madine." Only now, speaking to Luke, watching his face and hearing his voice, did all this crystallize in Leia's head. Because here was Luke Skywalker sat before her, as strong and steadfast and absolutely committed to his greater cause as he'd ever been. She had to get him out—she had to.
Luke shook his head, resolute. "You get involved in this and you'll never be able to step back from it, you'll always be tainted. You need to distance yourself right now, before it all blows up in your face. You need to go and not come back."
"No! I can help you."
"You want to help me?"
"Yes."
"Then find my ring."
Leia stopped in her tracks, her line of thought completely broken by his request. "… What?"
"My ring—my ring is gone."
It completely threw Leia; left her blinking rapidly, lost that he would be more concerned about this than his own predicament.
"It was perennium, with a blue stone—I always wear it; look for any image of me and you'll see it. The stone is worthless to anyone but me. The ring…" he hesitated, a frown taking his bruised features, "…it's the only thing I own which once belonged to my mother."
Leia stared for long seconds, heart wrenched by the restrained emotion in his quiet voice—and he didn't hide it, didn't look away but simply watched her, mismatched eyes made pale by dark-rimmed bruises he didn't even seem to notice—didn't seem to care.
"Who was she?" Leia murmured gently, her hands resting on his.
Luke glanced about, understandably reluctant considering his surroundings, "Another time perhaps. Can you help me? It's very important to me."
"I'll try, I promise."
"If you find it—don't let it go. My…your father gave it to your mother before we were born. Don't ever lose it."
The heavy door sounded as it ground through its staged lock release behind her, making Leia jump.
Luke glanced back, "Time's up."
As he said it he took her hand where it rested on his, fingers curling around hers and for a moment he held her…then he pulled away—as much as he could—for her safety, she knew.
On impulse, as the last bolt freed, Leia reached back and took the small anti-surveillance scrambler from her hair, handing it quickly down to his bound hands, "Here; a little privacy."
Luke glanced down, frowning.
"It's a scrambler; it's undetectable unless it's on," Leia said quickly, turning it over, "on, off; same button."
Given the tiny device, Luke floundered a second as the door lock came free, uncertain where to hide it...then he bobbed his head down to his tethered hands and put it in his mouth, sitting straight again by the time the soldier entered. Leia rose quickly, wishing to keep the guards' eyes on her and not Luke, but she needn't have worried; he was already the picture of still calm, face falling to blank neutrality, eyes focused on nothing.
Unable to stop herself in that moment that she reached the heavy door, Leia risked one final glance to Luke…and he winked, purple-bruised eyes gleaming defiantly.
.
.
Turning, Leia walked from the cell in silence, her Commandos falling into step behind her, Madine's soldiers either brazenly defiant or avoiding her eyes entirely. She was halfway back when she pushed her hands into her pockets her fingers brushing against the sample syringe that Tag had given her. For a split-second she silently cursed, breaking her stride…then a smile spread slowly as Leia walked down the corridor, shaking her head infinitesimally.
Because the truth was…the truth was she didn't need it. She knew.
.
.
Alone in the cell again, Luke waited until after the doors had locked, counting to twenty to give Leia time to be a reasonable distance away so that it would seem logical that whatever she had been using to block the surveillance inside the cell was now out of range, before moving the scrambler subtly about in his mouth, positioning it between upper and lower teeth to bite it gently, hearing and feeling the subtle 'click' as it deactivated.
When they came back into the cell minutes later, Luke felt a moment of blind panic that Madine might appear to ask him what he and Leia had spoken of when he still had the small scrambler in his mouth…
But the two soldiers simply released his binders from the table and manhandled him back to his bunk to tie his ankle chain there before walking out without a single word said, as they generally did.
Glancing once to the surveillance lens, Luke lay down and turned on his side, his back to the lens, to spit the scrambler out, leaving a few seconds more before he risked lifting his cuffed hands to take hold of it and gently slide it down over the edge of the canvas to the heavy A-frame metal that the canvas was stretched over. With the tips of his fingers, he slid the small device over the metal and placed it on the inside of the frame, safely away from prying eyes.
He should be thinking of the scrambler, he knew; of the door, of the unexpected locks—of how to combine these things and use them. But all he could think about was Leia's revelation. All he could think about was how this one fact could touch every part of his life.
Always, always Palpatine had pronounced over and over again that Luke was, at his core, a creature of Darkness and so his best efforts could ultimately do nothing but fail. He was his father's son; how often had Palpatine thrown that at him as a condemnation.
Everything that he was, he had accepted based on Palpatine's assertions of lineage…claims that he had created Luke's father—his bloodline—to fulfill the prophesy. Created it of Darkness, and in doing so damned Luke and everyone else in it to the same. That was why they all held this unique connection, this attunement…this curse. They were created by Darkness. How then, could they be anything else? How could anyone in this line be other than their nature?
Luke thought again of the ring; of the mother he never knew…
"I loved her—very much." His father's words…
Palpatine had convinced Luke that because he was his father's son, he shared his father's destiny, and he couldn't forgive his father for that—nor himself. Couldn't ignore the fear that no matter what he did, Darkness would claim him because of it. Could remember with painful, pinsharp precision those unbalanced, chaotic, explosive days when he had felt himself slipping increment by increment and had cursed his father and his heritage and himself.
And now he held himself in check by holding back; by never stepping beyond the safe confines of tightly-controlled emotions. People said he was cold, withdrawn, reserved…and he was. Because the alternative was to give those emotions reign; give Palpatine's wolf room to run.
Those were the two options in his life.
And Mara— Mara he'd held at arm's length for so long not simply because he was wary to let her close again, but also because of the very real fear that he could hurt her; that because of what Palpatine had twisted him into he could, in some blind rage, turn on her before he knew what he was doing, his father's broken past a constant barb.
He knew that she wasn't afraid; that she'd lived all her days among wolves of one shade or another. But his words to her long ago had been a warning, not threat; "If you put your hand out of a wolf, don't be surprised if it bites."
That knowledge had held him from her for so long, fearing that he would destroy her and take so much more down with him in the spiral of self-destruction that would follow, as it had been for his father.
Bad blood.
But Leia…something good had come from his father's love of his mother.
Something good could be salvaged from his own forbidden love of Mara. Something good could be created—was being created at this minute.
Because Leia—Leia, who had the same cursed blood running through her veins—Leia was ethical and honorable, an incandescent beacon of light. Leia, his sister, his twin, his blood; Leia was good—and her blood ran in his veins. Could he claim some part of that?
He thought again of his father, of the connections that ran too deep to ever harbor conditions or constraints. Beneath everything else, every frustration, every accusation, every fear of Palpatine's assertions and predictions, Vader was still his father… and Luke was still proud to have known him.
He did, in the last, love his father… and that was in his blood too.
"Bad blood…" Palpatine's endless accusations ran again like a shiver through him, damning any possible future.
He had always sworn that the one thing he would never give Palpatine was the continuation of this contaminated bloodline…but now Mara had taken that choice from him, and his deepest fears were becoming real. Only not so, because if Leia was his sister…if Leia was his sister, she wasn't tainted. He knew that absolutely.
And where did that leave Luke in his condemnation of this line; in his desire to end it with himself? The bloodline wasn't tainted—Leia was proof of that. She wasn't doomed to a failure of conscience, he knew that. Nothing was written. It was all lies, by the man who had lived by them and died by them.
The future of his unborn son hadn't been decided by the self-serving actions of a bitter old man; he would come into this galaxy as every other child did, free and new and untainted; unclaimed by destiny or providence. He would make his own way, cut his own path in life, live by his own actions. It was dizzying, this release. This reprieve. It tilted the universe on its axis, it brought light to the deepest, darkest shadows.
Now the responsibility he'd placed upon himself to end this bloodline was not only irrelevant, but out of his hands; Leia would live, even if Luke died here, and she wouldn't be bound by any of his beliefs. The decision was taken out of his hands…in every possible way, it was out of his hands. Mara was having his child, continuing the legacy he'd sought to end, but even if that weren't so then Leia would probably do the same one day. And his child...his son had the same limitless potential that every other newborn had, a galaxy of possibilities and a lifetime to choose and achieve them.
He smiled, tired, knowing they'd come for him soon, shake him awake and drag him back to the table to start demanding and dictating and chastising again, but right now…Luke let out a slow breath and studied the moment, remaining silent and still for fear of breaking it.
It was out of his hands…and the only thing he felt was utter relief.
It pulsed through him, a monumental victory handed to him with no idea of its depth or scale by the sister he never knew he had, simply by existing.
Even here, even now; nothing could take this moment from him.
This triumph.
.
Save for one fact, one knowledge which burned through him and dragged him mercilessly back to this small cell and its bleak, grim reality.
Because he very much doubted he'd ever get the opportunity to take this reprieve back to the one person he wanted to tell, the one person he wanted so desperately to share this new future with;
Mara.
.
.
.
.