He couldn't stay next to his father's body the whole trip, and anyway, what would be the point? The Force was a lot of things, but it didn't make one immortal, it didn't make decisions, and it didn't land shuttles.
His father was dead. He was free. Nothing could touch him. It was just a body, wedged behind a seat so it didn't slide about during lift off. But- sorry, little descendants. Luke rubbed his chest, feeling like he couldn't do it. Couldn't tell the story anymore. Ever again. Living it had been hard enough.
Atmospheric re-entry clanged, and that's why Luke stood. A symbolic shift. He's still dead, he could hear Han say, and he followed him- him? Force Han? friendship?- to the cockpit, and he's gonna stay dead, stooped and aching. He had opened his shirt and seen no marks on his body from that blue dark energy but he didn't feel right. Emptied, like a bad night in the 'fresher. He supposed it was natural to feel exhausted, but he worried it might be a bit more than that.
The Force was real. Luke knew that; knew it when he took a breath. It had been used as a weapon but the fact there was nothing to point to, no proof or reason for his vague pains, nothing a med droid could explain- did that make them not real? And maybe it was the jaundiced lighting of the cockpit, his skin reflected in the black of his shirt, or maybe it was the blaze of the blue energy from Palpatine's attack that seared behind his eye lids, but his skin seemed to cast a blue pallor. He put a hand at the juncture of his hip and thigh, where it felt like he might snap in two, and the ache was- became remembered, imaginary. It lifted; he was wrong: it didn't hurt there, but here- it had migrated, and he rubbed his chest, chasing it away, and it filled his head.
It wasn't real for everyone. Not for his mother, who had loved a Jedi, nor for Han. Whatever, Han had said, dismissing the whole concept when Luke asked him, You. I believe you.
The Force was real. But it was also... what was the word? ... Imaginary? ... Faith? It couldn't be measured. It wasn't something definably physical.
"Well done, Luke," Ben Kenobi said.
Luke inhaled, steeling himself. Ben wasn't real either, not really, but Luke wasn't surprised to see him. He rather expected him. Bright light, shimmering and blue, had clapped a hand at his shoulder. There was no weight.
Beru was real. Ben was the crazy old hermit, a legend. And then it had only been a few days aboard a battered old freighter, Luke blocking remote shots he couldn't see, and Ben was never Ben; he was Obi Wan, his father's best friend, and his father killed him.
That's what this was about. What was real; real to Luke, and what mattered. He was too tired to answer Ben. He wasn't sure what he'd accomplished had been done well, but it was the best he could manage.
"Do you feel the difference?" Ben asked. In death, made up of the energy, he was cheerful.
Luke took in the blue that radiated out of Ben, and then down at himself, and he realized that Ben's aura and Palpatine's attempted Force murder were one and the same. "No," he said.
He took a seat, and Ben did, too, a ghostly copilot who was no help at all. Luke keyed the communications and selected an open frequency.
It flared to life immediately, crowded with conversations, instructions and orders. The disconsonant sound blistered Luke's ears, and he sought the volume control while he gazed out the viewport, trying to match sound and sight. There was a great deal of ship traffic: huge ships, floating; a good number of shuttles much like his own- officers, Luke guessed, who saw the imminent destruction of the Death Star and escaped- squadrons of Ties, X- and Y-Wings, only a couple still fighting, like the last sparks of a dying fire.
"- my garden-"
"- to land. Repeat-"
"- on the fish tank immediately!"
Now Luke could listen without wincing. "What's a fish tank?" he wondered.
Ben seemed to sniff deeply. "It's like the air after a storm. Wonderful. You have restored balance to the Force."
"Tie squadron Adjucator! Return and break the fish tank. Repeat-"
"Surrenders will not attempt to land. Repeat, surrenders will not attempt to land."
"Where are you?" Luke asked Ben. While he watched all the ships he learned what a fish tank was. It was Imperial jargon for the Mon Calamari Star Cruiser. A poor joke on the beings' need to breathe water. The Imperial Star Destroyer Adjucator was firing upon it; her last stand, and Luke thought what a lovely ship the Calamari built.
Ben was amused by the question. "Where do you think?" He leaned forward from his hips a little in the seat. "I am dead, Luke. I am in the Force."
"And there's fresh air to breathe?"
"The memory of it," Ben conceded, bobbing his head to the side once. "A life well lived is rich in the Force."
Luke sighed. It was more of Ben's infinity nonsense speak, but he had always been a sucker for it. "I want that," he said softly.
The same message looped again, in a calm methodical voice. "Repeat. Surrenders will not attempt to land."
"You will have that," Ben told him gently.
"Did I make a mistake? Did I go too far?" Luke looked back at the seat where he knew his father's body was hidden.
Ben followed his gaze. "He was your father," he said gently.
"They'll call up to the Executor, make sure Vader is not on board, and they'll check each Tie, and what they really want to know is that Darth Vader is a million pieces of particle mixed up with an exploded battle station." He rubbed an ache on his forearm absently. "What did he give me, really. He's dead- he's-"
I'm angry at him, Luke realized. Vader had it easy now, didn't he? Or Anakin, even easier. Luke was left to deal with his legacy, his deeds. And he'd stupidly left himself having to account for his body.
He slashed a hand at the air, helpless. "Why does he have to look like- Why does he have to look real? Why couldn't he be like you, or Yoda? I'm- I want to be done. What's the Force want from me now?"
Responsibility, he answered himself. He was the last Jedi, and maybe he was again the first. He was to start over, gather the Force in its users, lay down a philosophy where light and dark were co-rulers, and prevent the creation of a Vader or Palpatine from rising again.
The war might be over, Luke realized. It finally hit him. Not the Death Star exploding into pieces, not the death of his father, but all these pilots out here. Surrenders.
The war was- over. It was hard to believe. Luke would never have imagined it, but victory was incredibly sobering. Looking back, after the first Death Star he couldn't even remember receiving instructions for landing at Yavin. But then, sadly, he, Wedge, and Han were the only ones to return. He remembered he couldn't wait to land, find Leia, and there was so much... energy, or something, built up in him, that all he could do was shout and jump.
Luke watched the Adjucator fire at the Cruiser. So different, he mused. Technically, it should be over, but it wasn't clean. After the first Death Star, he had thought the war over, as simple as finishing a story put to flimsi. You closed it up and that was that.
He thought then he had brought Leia victory. That all he had to do was destroy the Death Star. But then time passed, and they built another Death Star, and his father was part of all that had gone wrong... Now all he wanted was Leia again, but he just wanted to hold her tight, and not move, forever if that was possible, because Alderaan would still be gone, and there would be no more fighting.
"Perhaps," Ben ventured carefully, stroking his beard, "it is for your sister."
Luke scoffed. "You think that will soften her?" He thought of the ugly head of his father, bald and scarred, the look of peace on his face she felt he did not deserve.
Ben raised one shoulder and let it drop. "It is proof. At least she'll know he didn't escape."
"True," Luke nodded.
"And you see how she is with rubble."
Luke opened his mouth, about to ask what Ben meant, but he thought again of that moment coming out of hyperspace, a million voices silenced, the ship rocking and bits of rock hurling themselves desperately at the Falcon. Leia had witnessed the planet's destruction; Ben was right. She didn't know it at the time but she was Force-sensitive and the rubble was the voice of her planet- the only sign of life she had left.
"She collects planets," he told Ben, who answered with a sad small smile. "Their stories." Luke fought off a sudden need to weep. "I have- my sister- she's-" He broke off, wondering what this moment was like for her, wishing he was there.
He shifted his gaze from the ships to the moon. He wondered if Leia were like him, gazing up at the sky and feeling that sense of terrifying openness, that weight of sadness. All these lives, he thought.
"I'm tired, Ben," he said now. "Did you see what the Emperor did to me? Something's wrong." Luke held up his hand, half expecting it to glow. "I feel..." Luke struggled to describe it. "Like I'm breaking up. Big chunks of me falling off. Not pieces of me really; you see I'm whole, just... myself." He checked his other hand, because he probably wouldn't notice if he did lose the prosthetic, but it was still there.
"He attacked you with pure Force. It causes a counter effect on your own sense."
"It feels like I'm disappearing. Fading." It was exactly what Luke had described to himself as he lay screaming and writhing. He'd been trying to hold on to himself. So he wasn't surprised, or even saddened, to learn this. It explained a lot. And it was interesting to know. Something new about the Force, something- and he gathered his will to execute the thought, to root him to his own life- something to teach.
"Have you ever experienced anything like this?" Luke thought of the history of the Jedi, of the masters in the Temple, studying; of the Knights in the field, witnessing.
"Yes, I am familiar with Force lightning," Ben admitted.
"Lightning," Luke repeated. So that's what it was called. "It didn't kill you though. You didn't fade." Luke saw Ben on the Death Star, his lightsaber stilled, a telling glance to Luke before Ben let Vader strike him down. The Force will be with you, always.
Ben read his thoughts. "I was not murdered," he reminded Luke.
"Ah," Luke said, a little bitterly. "Choice." He stirred in his seat, angry again, at Ben, Yoda, his father. At one who definitely chose and at others who made the non-decision to wait. At one who couldn't kill his best friend but expected that friend's son to do it. He wouldn't say anything, though. It was pointless, done. It was choice. Who was he to say they had judged wrong? He'd made a few bad ones himself.
"You do not have to surrender to it."
"No. I know. I'm recovering. Slowly. 'Cause there's nothing here. For me to grab onto. Because- there's life, and…" Luke could grasp it, with his mind- he was so close, but his tongue… I'm a farm boy. "There's life, and there's life in the Force."
Ben smiled, his aura gentle and paternal. "Some call that death."
"I'm only twenty-three. I haven't…" to say not lived enough wasn't true; he'd had suns rising and adventure, and heartache and joy. A lifetime of experiences, really, but his body was far from spent.
He told Ben, "Sometimes there's no choice. Like for Biggs and Dak. It was over like that." Luke snapped his fingers. "It has to be true for Jedi, too. We're just bodies. We're physical. And we die."
"Of course you are correct. My own master was killed,"Ben revealed. "I have often wondered-" Ben broke off, eyes focused on a memory. "I wondered, if he had- if there was something other than the Force, like desire, or will… if he had- if there was... any attachment, to me-" he broke off again.
"- if he would let the Force help him survive," Luke nodded. "But he surrendered. My father remained- that's what the life suit was, right? All those injuries." He looked sharply at Ben, who had most likely inflicted those injuries, whose own attachments wouldn't let him kill his friend. "He had the Force, what Palpatine gave him, and he still wanted… life. He wanted my mother."
"You need peace," Ben nodded. "And rest."
"My mother should know," Luke said. "It's a shame, that she won't."
They were silent a while, listening to snatches of voices, some furious, some wistful.
"Repeat-"
"- wait to see my-"
"Captain Vyrkar," someone hailed, "you closed the hangar."
"Fight, you cowards!" one who might be Captain Vyrkar shrieked. "Protect the ship! Defend your Empire!"
The Star Cruiser was firing back, Luke saw, assisted by some Y-Wings. Its target looked so odd, a Star Destroyer with no Ties.
A new voice, familiar but tired, sneaked into the ten second window of the surrender message loop, "Think twice Tie squadron," and all the other noises fell quiet. "The Alliance is taking prisoners but your Captain'll get you killed."
"I think that was Han," Luke told Ben, who raised his brows and nodded with polite interest.
"Give it up, Imps!" another voice took up a sudden crowing, and a Y-Wing barrel rolled past the shuttle. Luke strained his ears, wanting to hear the first voice again.
"Surrenders will not attempt to land. Repeat, surrenders will not attempt to land..."
No, it wasn't real to Han, who ignored Maybes and became a general. Not real to his mother, who thought death was the only way to reach her love. "You weren't around the non-Force sensitives much, were you?" Luke said to Ben.
"I was brought to the Temple very young."
"And you protected them. So you don't really know what they're like, except when they need your help."
"I knew your mother," Ben said. "She was exemplary, even without Force powers."
"But you're just telling me that," Luke rubbed his temples, feeling it too important that he had to argue. "Like someone reading a biography. You still only knew her- or interacted with her, let's say, when she needed your help. Or you needed something from her."
Ben turned his gaze from Luke, and whether he could see the Adjudicator begin to list Luke didn't really know.
Luke flipped a switch. "Request landing clearance on the Endor moon," he spoke into the microphone. Just where was this control tower anyway, monitoring all this ship traffic? The Galactic Alliance had matured with speedy efficiency, he saw. The Adjudicator was now being towed in a tractor beam by the Calamari cruiser, her Tie detail flying behind her like in a funeral procession.
"Imperial shuttle, be advised mobile docking ports are on their way," a mysterious voice reported over the open frequency moments later. This one sounded human. "Ships will maintain their orbital path until a docking port becomes available. Surrenders are not to attempt to land."
"There's an awful lot of ship traffic," Luke remarked to Ben. "Docking ports are a good idea." Still, he had no intention of using one and then being shuttled to the moon. He felt- territorial; he was shuttle crew, damn it, and he was part of the Ewok tribe. He ignored the transmission.
Ben rubbed his palm over his beard again. "Your father loved her very much."
The moon grew closer, and Luke could discern the topography of the trees. "The thing about the non-sensitive," he lectured to Ben, aware they seemed to be having separate conversations. His voice was soft. "They still have the Force. They can't feel it, but it's there. So they don't need you." Luke waved his hand. "I mean the Jedi."
When he could see the gap in the forest where the landing pad was situated, the mystery voice hailed him again. "Imperial shuttle, request acknowledgement. Surrenders are to be made on Home One. Use a docking port as one is assigned."
Luke finally responded, since most ship traffic had drifted to an area of space, and Luke stayed separate. "Endor moon, are you talking to me?"
"Affirmative, Imperial shuttle. All ship traffic must maintain an orbital path. Surrenders will be taken as space becomes available. Line up with the others."
"But I'm not a surrender," Luke answered. "Request clearance to land on Endor moon," he repeated stubbornly.
Response came quickly, almost automatically, with a sigh. "Per the General's orders, shuttle, absolutely no landings on the moon. General Solo doesn't want a whole fleet on the ground. He says the forest can't handle it."
Oh, so it was Han. Luke recognized it in the voice; the kind of shrugging, mine is not to reason why, minor anti-authoritarianism underlings felt toward a superior. It was novel to hear it directed toward Han.
"I intend to use the landing pad," Luke answered.
"Repeat," the voice seemed to be losing patience, "all ship tr-" The voice broke off, interrupted by someone else evidently in the control room. "No, sir. Yes, sir, I know. Only three are to land on the pad. This one's not Antilles' Rogue, and it's not General Calrissian's ship-"
"The Falcon is not his ship," Luke heard someone snap.
Luke stirred. He knew that voice, and it was like salve. "Han?" Luke said. "Control, tell General Solo it's Luke Skywalker in the shuttle."
"Wait, sir," the control officer was saying off mic, "the shuttle pilot claims he's Luke Sky- sir!"
"Luke?" Han had apparently wrenched the tech's relay off his head. "You need assistance?"
"Han? Are you OK? How's Leia?"
"More interested in you right now," Han grunted and the concern had Luke feel dizzy.
"Follow his sense," Ben urged. "Do not surrender to the Force as your father has. Attach yourself to him."
"I'm not surrendering," Luke said to Ben, though everyone must have heard. The comm tech probably thought he was crazy. He thought of the pilots, thinking out loud about a garden, or going home, or even still wanting to fight, and Luke tiredly wondered what the reaction would be if he said, Han, what should I do with my dead father's body?
"Can you land that thing?" Han asked him.
"Yeah, of course. It's just- I don't know. Is it over?"
"Stop babbling," Han said. "Other beings got real worries on this frequency. Chewie's on his way."
"I'm fine," Luke tried to assure him. "I'm- I'm not hurt, but I think the Emperor sucked some of my Force. Or my life. Something. I don't feel right."
"Acknowledged." Han sounded like a distant general, and Luke wished he wouldn't. But after a pause, he added, "And kid- yeah, it's over."
"Han-" Luke paused. He still had no idea why he felt so irrationally sad, and relieved, and frightened. "- congratulations."
Maybe Han was feeling something similar, for he didn't answer right away. Then he finally said, "you, too."
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Han was squatting besides Luke's seat, looking at him and talking to someone else. Ben? Luke wondered. Could he see Ben? He smelled of pine oil and his white shirt was dirty and he had the light of twinkle bugs in his eyes.
"Hey, moon," Luke said, pleased.
Had he dozed off? He didn't remember the landing. He blinked at Han.
"See if this bird has a medpack," Han called over his shoulder.
"How you'd get here so fast?" Luke said.
"And if not pull one from that Walker!" Han turned to Luke. "We rode an AT-AT. Carries more than a speeder. If we got to carry you."
"Something," Luke said. "My head hurts."
"Chewbacca will find the body any moment," Ben said quietly.
"I need help with it anyway," Luke said.
"What?" Han snapped.
"Do you see Ben Kenobi?" Luke asked Han, gesturing at the copilot seat. Ben's arms were folded across his chest and he was smiling at Han.
"I hate when you do that, kid," Han said, his hand on Luke's skin.
"Your hands are cold," Luke complained.
Han took his hand away. "Sorry."
"He was my father, Han."
"I know. You told me. S'long as we don't see him, too."
"Well, you might," Luke said, and in perfect timing there was a roar from the passenger area.
Han stood and took a step out, and then whirled back to Luke. "Luke! I don't care if you're seeing ghosts and I don't care if your head falls off. What the fuck is Chewie sayin'?"
"You would know better than me," Luke murmured. Ben's shimmering light was gone, but that was fine. Luke would take Han, even pissed and not understanding, any day. "I told you," he answered Han wearily, "he was my father."
"Yeah, and? So? I got a father, too. I don't go dragging his corpse around!"
Luke opened one eye. "Is your father dead?"
"It's yours we're talking about! Chewie- no, never mind. I need Wicket. Go get him." Luke waited as Han digested Chewie's added description as he exited the shuttle. He could hear Han breathing loudly through his nose. Then he lowered his face to Luke's. "Did you kill him?"
Eyes closed again, Luke swayed his shoulders side to side to say no instead of shaking his head. "No. Some of those marks are mine. But it was the Emperor- he stepped in for me."
"The Emperor was gonna kill you?"
He couldn't beam very brightly at the moment, but Luke felt proud. "I didn't turn, Han."
"That's great, kid. Leia tried to tell me you knew what you were doing, but it sure looked to me like you went to join your father. I can sit?"
Luke grinned as Han indicated the copilot's seat. He nodded. "I didn't mean to cause a rift between you."
"Especially when you ask for a ride! You thought- you asked him to join you? Why didn't - or better, you could've- And he did?" Han abruptly shut his mouth. "I won't say it now. I can see you're fragile so I'll chew you out later."
"I know I deserve it, but believe me, I put a lot of thought into it. I know you, Han. And I know her. I had to do it that way."
"The Wheel all over again, huh? Leia was sure you were alive, too, so I'll give her that. Nah," Han rested his boot on the console, "you can't cause a rift. Gave us something to argue about, though."
"It was a trap," Luke said. "Everything. Down to the shuttle. When did you realize it?"
Han stared at Luke. "Fuck," he said. "You'll remember we considered it flyin' in. Knew for sure when a whole legion of troopers had us."
Luke's eyes widened. "How'd you get free?"
"The Ewoks unleashed their furry brand of hell on 'em," Han said with a sardonic grin.
"The Falcon survived," Luke switched to the others involved in the trap. "I saw her coming down."
"Yeah. You, and Leia n' Chewie." Han actually looked emotional. "Lando keyed in. He'll be landing soon. He's helping set up a flight boundary. Luke," Han tossed his head in the direction of the passenger area. "What are we supposed to do with him?"
"That's the one thing I wasn't sure of," Luke admitted. "He was alive when we left. I didn't want him blowing up."
"Why not?"
Luke smiled again. "But-" Something was being waved under his nose. It was moist and warm, and smelled of earth and dirt and flowers. He jerked his head forward. "Hi, Wicket. What's he doing?"
"Wicket's training with the- whatever the Ewok version of a medic is. Leia got shot. He-"
"What!?" Luke bolted straight up, feeling some energy return. Connections, he realized. Attachments. Something to tie him to life. "What? She's hurt? You let her get sh-"
"I didn't let anything," Han snapped back. "She took a hit, is all. Bolts were flyin' everywhere. We lost two from the strike team-"
Wicket stomped on Han's boots, demanding he add something. "- and some tribe." Han patted the air in front of the Ewok cub to get him to settle down. "Anyway, he helped a lot. Found me this spittle stuff that's a coagulant. Leia chewed on some plant and I think she's high. Not in pain, anyway. And she's talkin' like you, seeing ghosts."
"Is she?" Luke was fascinated and wondered if somehow their Force bond had strengthened, where they could share not just thoughts, but feelings. "Who is she seeing?"
"Her father."
"Which one?"
Han gave Luke a dark look. "We'll talk about that later. You know the Ewoks are gonna help some of our soldiers dispense with Vader," he warned.
"I know," Luke agreed worriedly.
"You need to get rid of him."
"But how?" Luke squirmed. What an awful thing, to speak of dispensing with a body. Even already dead, it seemed like murder.
"Completely. So no one can dig him up, and sell pieces of him-"
"Sell? Gods, Han, this is a body we're- this is a person-"
"- or have any doubt that he could have survived-"
"No, but-"
"Chewie! Siphon some of that fuel out of the Walker." Luke couldn't hear Chewie but Han was obviously responding to a question, "I don't know, use a helmet if you can't find a bucket. Not much."
"Fuel?" Luke asked.
Han was thinking as he talked, his mouth quirked sideways. "We'll take it past Bright Tree Village. We'll use those logs they were gonna cook us with."
Luke hoped Han wasn't suggesting roasting the body of his father and offering it to the Ewoks as a feast. "Build a pyre?" he said to be sure.
"Yeah, burn it all. Don't even let the Ewoks have his helmet to drum on."
Luke considered it. On Tatooine, the dead were buried, but he heard of planets, like Coruscant, where land was limited and space at a premium, and bodies were cremated. He would prefer burial, but Han had a point. And he wasn't likely to just be able to take off for Tatooine right now.
Then there was the question of where. Anakin might want to lie next to his wife or lover, but her identity was still unknown. "I forgot to ask Ben," Luke sighed in disappointment.
"Hm?" Han said.
"About my mother," Luke answered. "I'm trying to decide."
Han shook his head. "You don't often make sense, kid."
Another choice was Anakin's mother Shmi, whom he had buried in the fields of the Lars farm, but Luke had a feeling Owen wouldn't really welcome the remains of his stepbrother.
"Alright," he finally relented. "We'll build a pyre. But I want Leia to be there."
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Not done! It's been too long between updates, and I wanted to offer something.
