A/N: Okay, so gonna try to get at least a little more done; thanks for reading! The sooner we finish this the sooner we get to the most mis-quoted line in history, lol!
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SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.36—Redemption
"Han!" Luke shouted, "What are you-?"
"Saving you both, like always," was the snarky reply, and on Luke's sensors he could see the Falcon firing at Vader's fighter.
But, apparently some overzealous TIE pilots suddenly craved some of the action and even as Vader adeptly dodged all the freighter's attacks, when the four TIE's entered the trench, they didn't expect Vader to maneuver in the nimble pattern he did.
One of them connected with him, hard, ricocheting him into another fighter.
He veered off into space as the other two slammed into the trench's walls; the other Han got.
"You're all clear, kid," Han happily announced, "now let's blow this thing and go home."
Luke exhaled in infinite relief and let loose the proton torpedoes…albeit his were highly modified.
They flawlessly entered the thermal shaft. The Falcon, Starazor and Biggs's skiff pulled up.
The DS made the brightest, most brilliant explosion Luke had ever beheld before.
He felt the tears come; he didn't care, letting them stream down his face.
Tank deserved such a luminous grave, commemorating just how much Luke would miss him.
He heard Biggs sniffle over the comm, trying to conceal his own grief.
They headed back to the base.
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When Luke strode out of the skiff, he reminded himself that he'd carefully hidden his Specter gear—and that he had to plaster a smile on his face because he was one of the 'heroes.'
He wanted to vomit, he'd just killed one of his best friends in cold blood—motives or not—and who knew how many other decent men who were probably on that station simply because they were forced.
Not all Imperial recruitment was voluntary after all.
Most of the specialist divisions didn't even know what that word meant.
"Luke!" Leia shouted, gleefully running up to him. She threw herself into his arms and Luke had to admit, spinning her around while she joyously laughed salved his bleeding conscience.
"Heyyyyyy!" another voice cried. Han and Chewie, Biggs close behind also rushed up. Leia eagerly hugged Han and Luke grinned when Han pretended to not enjoy it as much as he did.
"I knew you'd come back," Luke told him with certainty.
"Yeah," Han said, grinning disarmingly, and mock cuffing Luke's face, "well…I couldn't just let you take all the credit and get all the reward."
Leia saw right through it. "I knew there was more to you than money."
Han smiled wider than usual when he took in her dazzling smile.
Luke noticed, he and Biggs grinned knowingly at each other.
When Biggs' face suddenly fell, Luke pulled him into a tight embrace.
"He wouldn't want us to grieve," he whispered.
Biggs nodded against his shoulder.
But each knew the other was mourning anyways.
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The rest of the evening was celebrations and ceremonies to commemorate the dead. Leia presided over them, her face beautiful even when etched so grave. The Jedi said soothing words about the dead joining to the Force; that they weren't really gone, but merely in a different place. When Biggs wept, no one wondered, because Biggs had been with the rebellion a long time before being captured so many of the pilots had been friends.
Luke was expected to only look regretful; so he didn't dare shed a tear.
That's why he ensured he was alone in his quarters before leaning against his bed and weeping quietly, Noc and Fade in his lap, trying to comfort him.
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The maxims warning against emotional attachment seemed to mock Luke in the days that followed.
He and the others joined the rebels who'd already fled at another secret base—on Dantooine of all places.
Leia had told them on the way a rebel base had once been there, but since it had been abandoned before she'd leaked the location to Tarkin.
And…as the Empire had already deemed the planet clear of rebels, it'd be the last place they'd be sought out.
For the time being, anyways.
Luke stood behind a large, metal door, dressed in dark brown pants, a black shirt and a yellow jacket that had been Han's when he was a kid, but he'd lent to Luke for the occasion.
"You'll look less like an assassin in yellow," had been the cheeky reasoning.
Luke had wordlessly nodded; he'd not spoken much since…Tank.
Grieving for a dead friend wasn't the same as grieving for a friend you'd killed.
Vader's taunt from before about 'blood covering his hands' and 'perhaps their blood won't matter to you,' dogged him often since the battle; he'd woken up from a sound sleep more than once, Vader's words so clear he had been certain the dark lord had been there, beside him in the dead of night.
"Kid? Kid?"
It took Luke a moment to realize Han was shaking his shoulder.
He met the smuggler's gaze. Chewie woofed a question.
"I agree; Kid, Chewie doesn't think you look so good. You okay?"
Luke put his head down. "I will be," he mumbled.
Han's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Kid, he knew; you know that. Once he knew 'the Specter' was involved, he had to have known what would happen. Did the thought ever occur to you that he wanted to die? That he saw no other way out?"
Luke's throat closed; the walls were pressing in all around him.
He shook his head, unable to speak.
No; he hadn't thought of it, but now that Han had said it, it made sense.
There had been many occasions when Luke had considered taking his own life; when he had also seen no other way to escape his fate, no way to be free.
It had taken Luke several years and many experiences to realize that his true prison was his own body…which had been the true meaning of Dromerick's warning that he'd never escape.
How could Luke escape his own flesh?
The simple answer was, he couldn't. But, Noc and Fade had helped him through the initial days and months of readjusting to life outside the facility; they had been there when Luke had tried to drink several poisons, cut his own throat, crush himself beneath a building that was about to be demolished and so on.
It wasn't until he'd begun to search for his parents, telling himself that finding his lost family would give him a sense of purpose, of identity—of normality.
He'd belong, someplace, with someone, at last—he'd be more than an experiment and escaped slave.
Well, at least his slave transmitter had been destroyed; Noc had taken care of that.
He let out a sigh; Han had still been talking, but Luke had no idea what he'd said.
"…and then Chewie challenged the rancor the Sabbacc, but after the rancor won, Chewie had to buy him a Corellian brandy and wear a dress"—
What the-!?
"What?" Luke exclaimed, rattled from his musings.
Han cuffed him over the head. "I knew it! You weren't even listening."
Luke flushed, even when Chewie chuckled at Han's indignation.
"And I was saying really important stuff; wasn't I Chewie?"
"Hanarnrnrnananr…."
"What do you mean you weren't listening either!?"
Luke laughed, he couldn't stop himself. "Thanks Chewie," he said.
He even managed to laugh more when the Wookie scooped him up into a crushing hug.
He wondered how much more…trying it'd be to be embraced by an emotional Wookie if he were a regular human.
He grinned through Chewie's layers of hair dangling over his face at Han, picturing the smuggler yelling and shouting in protest.
Shouting loudly. Han had only one volume setting, after all.
Well two: 'loud' and 'blaster'-albeit, that setting was loud too.
The doors creaked open and Chewie quickly put Luke down. Luke chuckled and straightened his jacket.
It was bizarre, wearing such a bright color. It was so…conspicuous.
When he saw the vast sea of people, he was glad they were facing perpendicular to him and Han.
Biggs jogged up behind them. "Sorry I'm late."
"What were you doing," Han asked as they stepped out of the alcove and made for the corridor to where the princess and General Dondonna were waiting with the Jedi. "Fixing your hair?"
Biggs rolled his eyes and 'accidently' elbowed Han.
Luke was glad for the distraction; he made a point of keeping his eyes fixed on Leia, and not the massive crowd of faces all around him.
Staring at him, eyes focused on him—
It was suddenly hard to breathe.
Allies, he reminded himself, these are allies. And no one knows who I am.
Only a select few.
His constricted throat agreed to open again.
Han had to reach out and stop him when they arrived at the dais.
Thankfully, everyone watching would just assume he was a nervous younger cousin, jittery from all this attention.
Well, they'd be half right at least.
Leia was stunning in her clean white gown with silver belt. Luke let himself take in her elegant hair done up in braids and crystal necklace highlighting her slender neck.
She caught his fixated expression and smiled, blushing a bit as she reached for the medal that Dondonna was offering to her.
She placed the first over Han, and the twinkle in her eyes implied there was a joke behind that, as if Han thought he deserved the first and so she was humorously obliging him.
Han was oblivious though—figured, Luke thought—only winking at Leia when she straightened the medal.
Luke was next; he only smiled at her, which she returned.
Then Biggs and everyone laughed when Mace Windu lifted the princess by the legs so she was tall enough to drape a medal around Chewie's furry neck too.
Luke and the others turned, and the rebels erupted in cheers and applause.
Nearest to the stage was Ben, standing beside Luke; Fade was in the Jedi's arms, and Noc on his shoulder, but he still managed to clap regardless. Luke tried to not be heartened by the pride in the Jedi's face, the faraway look in his blue eyes, as if remembering a celebration like this from bygone times.
It got easier when his thoughts were jarred by Link and Mouse, in his earpiece.
"Oh," Link said, mock sniffling, "our little Specter is all grown up!" He blew into a hanky.
"I know," Mouse agreed, fake crying, "he finally managed to do something without our help!"
The pair laughed hysterically, knowing full well Luke daren't say a word.
He would…later.
Plenty of words.
Like: 'no raise.'
"Maybe someday, he might even figure out what beautiful women are." Mouse.
Leia came to stand between them, smiling wide, and Luke let himself look his fill.
Which took some time.
He was pretty sure he'd figured out what beautiful women were.
They were Leia.
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After the rebels had congratulated Luke, Han, Biggs, and Chewie, a feast had begun in the mess quarters.
Luke lingered behind, letting Biggs and Han take most of the attention, he didn't like ever talking about his work, not wanting it traceable.
And this…this was definitely traceable.
It would only be a matter of time before the Empire learned that 'Luke Solo' had fired the destructive shot.
He sighed, feeling a familiar hand on his arm.
"Ben."
He turned, seeing Ben and Mace there, Luminara as well, holding Fade.
They were alone, so Fade wiggled out of the Jedi's arms, to hover beside Luke instead.
"Luke," Ben began earnestly, "I wish Anakin had been here; he'd've been"—
"Proud?" Luke somberly said, putting his head down. "That I killed my own friend?"
Ben shook his head. "That you saved the rebellion; the galaxy even."
"It's more than that," Mace added, "you showed the galaxy the Empire isn't invincible. You're a symbol of hope now, Luke. The rebellion will gather behind you, not us. The Empire will try to shove this event under the proverbial rug; but they'll fail. Word will get out to all the worlds that the fledgling rebellion destroyed the Empire's super-weapon. You've changed things—vastly."
Luke nodded, already realizing that. "Why are you saying these things?"
They had to know he'd already surmised as much.
"Because Luke," Ben happily, though tentatively replied, taking Luke's arm as if to steady him, "we've spoken, the three of us and have made a decision."
Luke waited.
"Young one," Luminara said, "we'd like you to join the Jedi Order."
Luke gaped, taking a step back. No; he couldn't have heard that right.
"M…me? But, but I'm"—
"Yes," Ben amiably cut in, "we know Luke; but you have the makings of a great Jedi nonetheless. None of us have flawless pasts; and you've already admitted you want to put that life behind you."
Luke took another step back. "Yes," he firmly agreed, "but after I find my father."
"Luke, you can let go of that life now," Ben countered, "we'll help you find Anakin. Living a dark life won't lead you to your father."
Something about that…the Force shifted in Luke's mind, not in a way that declared Ben was lying, but in a way that said: portentous.
"Thank you," Luke demurely said at length, "but…I'm not ready."
They all looked disappointed, though something in Windu's face said he'd expected this.
"Perhaps at a later time," Luminara kindly offered, "after you've had time."
Luke nodded, grateful to her for leaving it at that.
For letting him leave it at that. "Perhaps," he softly agreed, Fade coming to rest in his arms.
"Well," Ben decided, clearly disappointed in Luke's answer but trying to not show it, "let's join the others."
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A/N: Enjoy! Plz review!