Chapter Thirty-Eight:
Shmi stood with her mother in the hatchway where they were working on the shields while Chewie and Uncle Han affected repairs on the hyperdrive. Threepio was currently talking with the ship's computer, but Shmi ignored him.
"Hand me those wire-strippers, please," Mara asked as she held a pair of wires in her hands.
Shmi passed the desired tool over and Mara used them on the ends to the wires before she placed them into their respective sockets and tested the connection. When everything showed green on the monitor, Mara breathed a sigh.
"All done."
"Can I go sit down please?" Shmi asked. Her legs were tired, and she wanted to try taking a nap, or at least just relax somewhere quiet.
"Sure, go ahead."
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Han wiped his hands on a greasy rag as he wandered down a narrow hallway, and as he passed a smaller compartment, he caught a glimpse of a petite brunette welding a piece of machinery.
Han usually didn't let anyone else but himself and Chewie touch his ship as far as maintenance was concerned, but this time even Han had accepted that he needed help to speed things along.
Even so, there was something oddly romantic to the smuggler about seeing the woman he loved assuming repairs on his ship. Feeling his heart twinge with the desire to be near her, Han entered the closet-sized room.
Leia was trying and failing to turn a handle, and Han reached over to help... but she shouldered him out of the way.
"Hey, Princess I'm only trying to help," Han protested mildly.
Ever since their quiet moment in the cockpit, she'd become distant and even a little angry. She had to still be sore about his leaving.
"I don't need your help," Leia said in a clipped tone, straining against the handle again before finally giving it up.
Leia first shook and then began to wring her hands. Han stepped forward and took her palms in his before she could protest, and began to massage them. She tensed, ready to snap at him, but Han's ministrations did feel good. Leia felt herself beginning to relax...
But no: he was leaving... she didn't want to risk getting close to him again... or did she?
Trying to remain firm in her decision, Leia tugged her hand, trying to break their grasp, but Han held fast.
"Stop that," Leia told him with conviction.
"Stop what?" Han asked, though he knew perfectly well what.
"It makes me uncomfortable," Leia said, though with less certainty than before. His hands were surprisingly soft and gentle against her much smaller ones.
"You just need to relax," Han suggested quietly.
"... my hands are dirty." Leia felt her resolve begin to slip further...
"So are mine, what's it matter?" Han murmured, feeling his heart beginning to beat more erratically as he realized he was touching her and Leia wasn't jerking away angrily...
He began to lean forward, inch by inch...
Leia swallowed when she realized their much closer proximity and she backed away, though she didn't get very far since the wall was already at her back. She couldn't give in again... she couldn't. She already knew what it was like to have Han's lips upon hers... to have him hold her...
... and she wanted more of it.
But...
"I prefer nice men." Leia tried to jab at him, but her voice was shaking ever-so-slightly. "You're not a nice man..."
"Sure I am," Han purred.
"No... you're a scoundrel..." Leia breathed, his face mere inches from hers now. So close...
Han actually paused, and a wry smile touched his mouth. "A scoundrel? I like the sound of that... especially coming from you."
Leia's heart skipped a beat.
"You're trembling..." Han observed huskily.
"No I'm n..." And then his lips were brushing hers.
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Shmi was most of the way down her current corridor when she happened to glance through a narrow doorway... and promptly froze in her tracks, mouth agape.
Her Uncle Han and Aunt Leia were standing extremely close. Well, actually, Han was leaning over a petite Leia while they murmured things only they could hear. But Shmi didn't need the Force to see that for the first time since her father had married, Han and Leia were happy together.
And then the couple's lips touched... and Shmi's heart leapt with joy...
"Oh, I fixed it!" Threepio's excited voice broke through Shmi's haze, and she spotted the golden droid making a bee-line for the hold her Aunt and Uncle were occupying.
Oh no you don't! Shmi thought at the droid, scrambling to intercept him before he ruined the moment.
"Hey Threepio, can you show me the way you talk with the computer please?" Shmi took his arm and promptly spun him about, determined to help her family in their quest to figure out their hearts.
"Oh, certainly Mistress Shmi, but first I must tell Captain Solo..."
"He's busy, not to be bothered, do you hear me?" Shmi warned him in a durasteel voice, and he looked over his shoulder.
"Oh... very well then."
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She shouldn't be kissing him... she... she sh-shouldn't be...
But oh, he tasted so good!
He was a dynamite kisser... and then his hands were around her and she melted into his embrace before her mind could remind her that it was temporary. She wanted this one last time anyway... to remember him by.
So Leia allowed him to caress her lips with his, tasting his mouth like it was her favorite childhood treat. But even as she did so, tears slipped silently down her cheeks, mingling with their intimate embrace until Han caught on, and he pulled away.
Confusion set in, and he frowned. "Leia, what..."
But she shook her head, extricating herself from his presence and slipping out the secondary entrance while he stood befuddled.
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"There will be a substantial reward for the one who finds the Millennium Falcon," Lord Darth Vader rumbled. "However, I want them alive. Dead returns will result in your own demise. You are free to use whatever methods necessary, but I want them alive and in one piece."
All the bounty hunters nodded and dispersed, ignoring the annoyed and disgusted looks they received from just about every Imperial on board the Executor.
Vader walked to the end of the line where Boba Fett stood, waiting patiently.
"You brought what I requested?" he inquired.
"I did," Fett answered. "But it wasn't cheap."
"I will compensate you; with interest," Vader dismissed. "I trust you can give me some insight on where Captain Solo would go from here?"
"Unless his hyperdrive works again, the closest friendly place I know of would be Bespin. He has an old acquaintance there named Lando Calrissian," Fett answered. "But I can give you a definitive answer once I have him in my sights."
Vader nodded.
Apparently Fett knew how to think like the smuggler, which was why the Dark Lord was confident the man would pull through.
"Anything you need will be given to you," Vader promised.
"I have everything. But when you are done with the crew, I want Captain Solo," Fett said.
"Once I have Skywalker, you are free to do what you wish with the smuggler," Vader replied.
Fett bowed respectfully and began to move away. "Oh, your gear is in your shuttle."
"Impressive," Vader murmured, but Fett was already out of earshot.
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Shmi sat glumly in the upper gun turret, thinking about her Aunt and Uncle. Shmi had endured a mind-numbingly boring account of droids and computers while she stalled for the pair of them to make up, but it seemed it had all been for nothing.
Not to mention that Shmi was getting restless. She didn't know exactly how long they'd been inside the asteroid, but it seemed like it had been an eternity. And still Han wasn't comfortable announcing the hyperdrive repairs a success.
Now Leia brooded in the cockpit alone while Han tried to act nonchalant by pouring himself into the repairs with even greater fervor than normal. But everyone else could tell that things were tense between Han and Leia in a new way.
Shmi sighed heavily, looking distractedly out the viewing panes of the turret. Why was it so blasted hard for adults to admit that they loved someone? Shmi hoped she was never so... well, complicated when she was grown up.
Something flickered at the edge of her vision, and Shmi tensed in surprise. Peering out into the mists, Shmi waited to see if anything else moved. However, there was nothing until she relaxed again... and then a figure moved through the fog, and she jumped in shock.
While her heart pounded from the adrenaline of seeing something in the darkened cave, her morbid curiosity got the better of her and Shmi edged as close to the viewport as possible.
With a suddenness that made her jump out of her skin, a winged creature suddenly landed on the transparisteel. With a loud scream Shmi tumbled from her seat, somehow avoiding a dangerous fall down the ladder.
"MOM!" Shmi scrambled for the ladder as feet rumbled to the source of the scream, and when Shmi exited the turret access tunnel, she was met by Han first.
"Shmi, what is it?" Han demanded, and Shmi launched herself into his arms.
"There's something outside the ship!" She cried, still trembling from the shock. "It was brown, and had leathery wings, and a round mouth with gross whiskers!"
Han tensed and then pulled back. "Did it look like some sort of bird?"
Shmi nodded emphatically. "It came out of the mists and scared me!"
Han swore, turning away and racing for the ramp. "Chewie come on!"
Another scream sounded from the cockpit and Leia appeared, slamming into Han since he was much closer than she'd thought.
"There's something out there Han!" Leia said worriedly.
"I know, I think it's mynocks," Han growled. "They're chewing on the power cables... which is why we haven't been able to get the Falcon's hyperdrivefixed right."
With that, Han grabbed an oxygen mask and left the ship, Chewie and Leia following. Shmi and Mara went to the cockpit and sealed themselves inside since there weren't enough breath masks. Shmi sat upon her mother's lap in the chair behind Chewie's.
"Mom, what's a mynock?" Shmi asked after a moment.
"They're just animals: but they feed on power cables, which makes them a hazard to ships," Mara explained.
"Oh." Shmi was about to ask another question when blasterfire sounded from outside... and suddenly the entire ship rocked, sending mother and daughter scrambling for purchase.
"Mom!" Shmi cried in alarm. "What's going on?"
Shouts could be heard from the other side of the cockpit door, and then Han was inside, slapping buttons on the console while ignoring Leia as she bombarded him with hot-headed queries.
"Sit down Sweetheart, we're taking off!" Han finally snapped. Then, turning to the Skywalkers, he gave a more calm order. "Get to those turrets, and be ready to fight back when the Imps see us."
"Got it." Mara nodded to Shmi and they retreated to their task.
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Han steered the Falcon toward the exit of their 'cave' as fast as the ship would travel, praying that the creature they were inside of didn't swallow before they made it out. Han blanched at the thought of dying as the meal of some space creature in the unknown asteroid field outside of Hoth.
That thought alone was enough for him to try coaxing more speed out of his beloved ship.
"Why are we leaving again?" Leia demanded. "The repairs aren't finished!"
"If we don't leave now, we never will," Han returned, his gaze on the slowly closing maw ahead.
Leia saw it too. "The cave is collapsing!" she gasped.
"This is no cave..." Han informed her.
"What?!" Leia exclaimed. "Then what..."
"Come on, baby, come on..." Han urged the freighter as the giant teeth drew ever closer.
Finally, just as they thought the ship wouldn't make it, they burst through. The creature tried to follow them, angry that they'd shot it.
"What is that?" Leia asked in disgust.
"A space slug," Han replied grimly.
Leia shuddered, and Han wasn't far behind. But his attention was instantly diverted to getting them out of the Imperial's sensor range.
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Captain Needa was not usually a nervous man, but even he was on edge after several days and still the Rebel ship had not been found. He knew that Darth Vader would not remain patient forever.
However, his saving grace came when his sensor officer abruptly waved him over.
"Sir, we have something on the scopes!"
Needa was by his side in seconds, peering over his shoulder. "What is it?"
The officer typed in some commands, and the details became more distinct. "It's that freighter, Captain."
Needa closed his eyes in relief. "Set the tractor beam!"
"Yes sir!"
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"Why are you moving closer to the Star Destroyer?" Threepio cried from where he'd snuck inside the cockpit. "Sir, the odds of...
"Never tell me the odds." Han cut him off. "And shut up."
"But sir!"
"Can it!" Han warned. "Or I'll scrap you myself!"
"Well, I was only trying to do my job!" Threepio huffed. "Sometimes I just don't understand human behavi..."
Leia finally had enough and flipped his main switch... and the droid went blessedly silent.
"Thank you!" Han breathed. "And strap in!"
Leia eyed him. "I hope you know what you're doing."
Han flashed her a lopsided grin despite the situation. "Hey... it's me!"
Leia rolled her eyes, but didn't argue: let the man concentrate.
Han and Chewie maneuvered the ship as laserfire lanced forth from the Star Destroyer, though it was more of a herding shot than one to kill.
[They really seem to want us alive...] The Wookiee rumbled.
"Not happening!" Han assured him confidently.
Mara and Shmi were trading fire with the ship, though it was pretty pointless, since their smaller turrets would do little to hurt the larger vessel. So it was really up to Han, and as they passed by the arrowhead ship, Han suddenly had an idea.
"Turn the ship around, Chewie!" Han ordered.
[What? Are you crazy!]
"Just do it you Furball!" Han barked.
As they zipped by the bridge, Han applied the brakes and pulled hard on the yoke, effectively drawing the Falcon to a standstill. Then he gently attached his ship to the rear of the sensor array station.
"There!" Han beamed proudly. "Now we just wait for them to dump their garbage and we're good to go."
Leia looked skeptical. "Is that all?"
"Yeah. Just watch, Princess." Han smirked. "Just watch..."
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Needa had to stop his jaw from dropping when he saw the little freighter loop around and come straight toward the bridge.
"They're moving to attack?" he said incredulously. "What fools. Shields up!"
"Shields up, Sir!"
The Rebel ship flashed by the viewport so closely that everyone instinctively ducked.
Needa scanned the area with quick eyes. "Track them, they might try another pass."
"Captain, Needa, the ship no longer appears on our scopes," reported the sensor officer.
"Captain," a communications officer spoke up. "Lord Vader demands an update!"
Needa swallowed hard. "Continue the search. I will apologize to Lord Vader, and assume full responsibility for this."
His officers didn't say anything, but they all knew he was walking to his death. Several of his men threw him honorable salutes on his way to the turbolift.
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"Apology accepted, Captain Needa," Vader growled angrily.
The fool had had the Millennium Falcon in his sights... and then he'd lost it!
Vader waved at two guards to remove the body and then he returned to business, confident that he would have the smuggler's location soon.
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"Looks like the fleet's beginning to break up," Han murmured as the warships drew out of their current formation. He toggled the communications console. "Chewie get ready to detach."
A roar was the only reply, and then Han waited...
"Detach now!"
A clunk sounded from the ship, and then they were floating freely as the Star Destroyer pulled away and made the jump to lightspeed. No flashes of deadly laserfire assaulted them as the remainder of the Imperials departed.
Leia breathed easier when there were no more signs of danger, and she patted Han's shoulder lightly.
"Alright, I admit it: you were right. You don't have many moments, but when you do, they're amazing."
Han snorted softly, grinning at her with a shake of his head. "Thanks... I think."
"So, where to?" Leia moved on to business as usual.
Han brought up the navicomputer. "Looks like the closest friendly thing... well now... you don't say?"
"Say what?"
"Lando..."
"What?" Leia frowned. "If that's a system, I've never heard of it."
"No no, Lando's a man. He and I go way back... he'll help us. I know it."
Leia eyed him. "Do you trust him?"
"Not really. But he has no love for the Empire, I can tell you that. Besides, we go way back, Lando and me... way back."
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Unbeknownst to the crew of the Corellian freighter they were tracked by a smooth-lined vessel built before the Clone Wars. Once he was assured of their direction, he sent Vader the confirmation and discreetly left the area too.
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If Luke had believed himself to be in shape before, he'd been sorely mistaken. Yoda had wasted no time in putting Luke through the ringer as far as endurance and strength were concerned. And while Luke understood the importance of both, he was still sore at night they called it quits.
He was required to make long, wearisome runs in the jungle; climbing vines and navigating the often treacherous knots of roots, all while avoiding the general dangers inherent in a swamp.
And while he was tired, Luke could feel that he was already making progress in his endurance. Luke could go most of the run now without many mishaps, and now he loved the challenge presented in the obstacle course run.
Also involved in his training was his saber-technique, which always came after his run. Luke had brought along his remote practice droids, and Yoda used his Force abilities to work the things as he saw fit, forcing Luke into ever more advanced lessons until Luke was able to wield his blade with total confidence again.
Yoda also taught him— much to Luke's surprise— the actual forms of lightsaber combat, from one to seven. Luke was amazed at how in-depth the little green master's lessons were compared to Mara's.
Not that he minded. Like his daughter, Luke soaked up all Yoda would give, eager to learn anything his master was willing to teach.
However, Luke's greatest shock from the ancient Jedi was when he produced a lightsaber of his own... the smallest one Luke had ever seen.
Not that I've seen a lot... Luke amended dryly.
Yoda now stood before him, still grasping his gimer stick— a stick Luke had come to respect as a weapon in the Jedi Master's tiny hands. He often used it to whack Luke— usually in the shins— if he thought Luke wasn't paying attention, or was getting out of sorts in the wrong place or time.
In the Master's other grasp was his unlit lightsaber. Luke had assumed until now that Yoda simply didn't carry one, though of course now that seemed a ridiculous notion. Why wouldn't the Jedi Master carry the Jedi weapon?
"Great strides in your lightsaber technique you have made, Young Skywalker. But against a live opponent, you have little experience."
Luke frowned. "I spar with Mara all the time, Master."
"Hmm, a Sith Lord is she?" Yoda countered pointedly.
Luke deflated, seeing the logic in his master's wisdom. "No."
"Hmm. Strong in the Force your wife may be, and good with the blade, but a wielder of the Dark Side she is not, my Padawan," Yoda told him with gentle sternness. "Not fighting to turn or kill you is she."
"I guess I never thought of it like that," Luke allowed. "Am I really that incapable, Master?"
"Incapable no; inexperienced, yes," Yoda reprimanded with a tap of his walking stick. "A difference there is."
Luke as silent for a moment as he contemplated that. "Master... is the Dark Side stronger?"
That had been weighing in him for a very long time now, and he finally could get an answer form a source who would truly know.
"No." Yoda had never sounded so sure, so firm.
"Then why..."
"Easier, it is, more seductive." Yoda cut him off as he went on. "More power, the user believes he has. And while that may be, due to his personal connection, a deception it is."
Luke was listening with rapt attention, his gaze never wavering.
"Calls to you when in the grip of strong emotion, the Dark Side does," Yoda explained further, sensing Luke's need to know. "Senses your greater sensitivity to its promptings. Ever felt it, have you, when you are not angry or distressed, hmm?"
Luke pondered that one seriously. "No, not really."
Yoda nodded in approval. "A slippery path is the Dark Side. Welcoming and holding all the answers it seems to at first: but once in its snare, impossible to escape, it is."
Luke looked up at Yoda. "How can I be sure I'm strong enough to resist, Master Yoda?"
"Remember, do you, what I told you when first we contacted?" Yoda lifted a brow.
Luke furrowed his forehead, calling the conversation to mind. "You told me... to clear my head. To trust myself and the Force."
"Hmm," Yoda's ears twitched in appreciation. "Remember that, Young Skywalker, for calm and sure you must be. When troubled and doubtful are you, will the Darkness seem strongest. But if trust in the Force you have, utterly, never fail shall you. Even when we lose those we care for, trust in the Force we need."
Luke pondered all this information for a long time. "I will never turn."
"Believe that do I, but really, do you?" Yoda pressed.
Luke knew what he was doing: testing his resolve. "I refuse to become like Vader, or the Emperor."
Yoda held Luke's gaze for a long, drawn-out minute before he relented. "Strong, are you my Padawan, and not just in the Force."
Luke looked down at the compliment. "Thank you Master," he whispered.
"Spar, we shall now." Yoda declared, piquing Luke's interest anew.
"But, how can you fight while using your... um, walking stick?" Luke queried, more curious than anything.
Instead of answering, Yoda merely ignited his blade... and was upon Luke so fast he barely ignited his own lightsaber in time and deflected the lightning-quick strike to his head.
Only his intense sessions in lightsaber technique and his time with Mara on the mat helped Luke meet Yoda's blade blow for blow. The little green alien was all over the place, making leaps and bounds that made up for his shorter stature, but Luke was suddenly abundantly aware of why this Jedi Master had been both feared and respected as one.
Of course, the Force helped too; though even still, Luke was hard-pressed to keep pace. Yoda was a blur of green and tan, is blade moving as though it were ten and Luke, despite the shock he'd received, felt both honored and exhilarated to be sparring with the great Yoda.
Luke delved into his teachings, letting Yoda drive him toward a knot of roots so he could meet the master on more even ground. But once they arrived, Yoda switched tactics, focusing on Luke's legs to force the young man to defend in that area.
Luke blocked parries, jabs and thrusts before he managed to push Yoda onto the defensive, and he almost had the Master cornered when he leapt clear above Luke's head and landed in a tree.
Panting, Luke looked up to him, ready for any new tricks, but Yoda deactivated his blade.
"Enough for today, that is," Yoda said wearily, leaping back down to the ground with practiced ease, and calling his gimer stick to him seconds later. Only then did Luke realize the older master was trembling.
Fearing that he'd pushed Yoda too far, Luke knelt before him. "Master, are you alright?"
"Hmm, not as young as I once was, am I." Yoda chuckled softly. "Time to meditate, it now is. Think on all you have learned."
Luke nodded once and sat right where he was. "Yes Master."
The final part of his training that Yoda had stressed as the most important was meditation, and Luke had already tried out several forms of it. Yoda had also used this time to teach Luke some healing arts.
Sensing the disapproval of his master at his lack of concentration, Luke cleared his mind before the alien's gimer stick was put to use.