SUMMARY:
Forty years after the destruction of Alderaan and the victory at Yavin, heroes find a moment for reflection.
Told in the same style as Instinct, Reflection: Equality, Reverence, this is my 40th anniversary homage to the galaxy far, far away, especially to our heroes Han and Leia. The three moments of reflection here come first from new canon, then a very familiar and accessible world, and finally a universe that is, perhaps, the way things might really be. Hinting at the complexity of the love for Star Wars, this piece is bittersweet: part lamentation and part love letter.
Happy 40th Anniversary, Star Wars. May the Force be With You. Always.
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Myth
In the universe in which Rey thought Luke Skywalker was a myth, a hero has fallen.
This was the first public ceremony she was to attend commemorating the 40th anniversary of those fateful few days. She let her thoughts drift as the speaker launched into yet another retelling of the now historical events. First, the obliteration of her childhood home, the mention of which touched within her a tender pain that lingered still after all these years. Then, the daring and exciting rescue of a princess held captive in the enemy's lair, in the heart of the unbelievable superweapon. Finally, the destruction of the monstrous weapon by the brave young beings of the then fledgling rebellion. As always, special recognition was reserved for three of the young heroes who brought about the destruction of the weapon, though, as was frequently the case, the special recognition only gave the slightest mention of the other heroes, including the steadfast Wookiee co-pilot, the two trustworthy droids, and the aging Jedi general.
The speaker began to focus on one of the three heroes in particular. The moment she heard the speaker mention the smuggler, she couldn't help thinking about him: The Alliance may not have chosen him, but Obi-Wan certainly did: devoted, quick-thinking, and brave indeed. He wasn't sure of it himself, and certainly tried so hard to keep anyone from suspecting it, but it was true: he was a leader, even then. As she turned to look at the assembled crowd, recalling the Captain she had come to love, more thoughts arose: And how he changed and grew. Opened up. Grew to care for others; to love. Even if he did drive me crazy. He wasn't perfect… but he was a good man... Maybe the best. As she took in the reactions of the audience, seeing the expressions which reflected her own sorrow and despair over the loss of the retired General, her thoughts gave way to a deep understanding more clear than any instinct or thought alone would ever reveal: Oh, my scoundrel. You were my match, my equal, my love. We each followed our own paths, allowing no one to choose them for us, but… if only our paths would have been the same for a little while longer.
The speaker called for a moment of silence to honor the fallen hero.
This man? Gone? If only someone could tell me there's been a mistake.
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Memorial
In the world in which Han Solo and Princess Leia were fiction, a hero has fallen.
This city was congested enough that he normally did not wander aimlessly, yet he had found himself here, without quite knowing how or why. It had been 40 years since that nutty film was released, thrusting him and his colleagues into the strange state of stardom, and he was only here in this town to attend some fancy ceremony celebrating the special anniversary. Sure, his contract sort of stated he needed to be present, but hey, 40 years is pretty impressive. Besides, he found he actually wanted to be around his old friends to mark the milestone with them. So perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised that he had found his way to the local memorial gardens.
He approached the tombstone where one of these old friends had been laid to rest, along with her mother. As he slowed to a stop in front of the tombstone to quietly pay his respects, he knew: I may not have gotten it, but George sure did: she was one strong person. She may not have known it herself, but she was brilliant. As a security guard approached to gently tell him the gardens were closing soon, he knew: She was fearless, too. Sure, we had our fights… but she was a force to be reckoned with. And to see all the work she did in the years since then, all the inspiration she brought to so many people… she did good. Taking in the finality of the moment, knowing he would never again return to this garden and that he would never see his old friend again, he knew, with more certainty than any reflection or instinct alone could ever suggest: No matter what: you were, and always will be, a princess, a survivor, a sweetheart. You were one-of-a-kind, lady. I'm going to miss you.
The memorial garden gates closed behind him, and he was back in the hustle-and-bustle of the city.
What was that line again? Right. Yeah, kid. I'm thinking about her.
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Love
In the universe in which Han and Leia led a happy life together, all heroes will fall eventually. That is the way of things. Until then, they will continue to hold dear the spirit infusing their original adventures: friendship, family, and love.
The Millennium Falcon soared into hyperspace. It had been some time since her last long excursion; she was an aging ship, and this was likely to be her final voyage before she was retired into a museum. Still, as usual, she had it where it counted. The ship's occupants, husband and wife, had programmed and entered their usual itinerary. First, they would spend some time with their dear Wookiee friend and his family on Kashyyyk. Then, along with the Wookiee, they would travel to pick up the Jedi Master. Together, along with the two droids, the six of them would spend the next few weeks together, simply enjoying their time with one another. They had begun to arrange these family reunions more frequently of late, each one in their group keenly aware of the preciousness of any time spent together as the years marched on. This particular year's reunion was especially poignant: it had been 40 years since the Force had thrown them together, forging their life-long bonds of friendship and love in the crucible of immense tragedy and resounding victory. The group intended to spend this year's reunion revisiting the sites of their original adventures together—the desert wastelands and watering holes, the debris field of the lost world, and the crumbling ruins on the jungle moon—no longer wary of the pains visiting these locations might revive, soothed as they had become by time. The group had even arranged to extend this year's reunion and celebratory circle by a few days, locations, and friends; if his health still permitted it (he was the oldest human amongst them), they would meet up with the retired Administrator General in the new developments in the city in the clouds, then finally meet up with the retired squadron leader and fellow trench run survivor on the forest moon where they had achieved their final victory. Forty years was a long time, after all, and none of them were getting any younger. If the historians were insistent on celebrating these individuals and these locations, then the individuals might as well enjoy the celebrations, too.
The swirling blues of hyperspace cast hypnotizing displays of light into the cockpit as husband and wife settled into the journey, content in the comfortable silence of their individual reveries.
As she heard the familiar whines and whirrs of the ship, she knew: We're home. You marvelous bucket of bolts: you certainly are a good ship. All these years, all the mileage, all the memories…. Thank you. Thank you for taking good care of our captain. Thank you for taking good care of our family. Thank you for being our home.
As he sat back in his captain's chair to relax in the quiet moment, he couldn't help but to think about her: Oh baby, I'm still not sure I deserve you. I know the techs will take good care of you when we retire you, and I may not see you as much after that, but… well… Baby baby, you'll always be my gal.
As she fiddled with dials and her thoughts turned to those events 40 years ago, and all the life lived since then, she knew: It's been a life well lived. We defeated evil, we nurtured love—and love prevailed. It hasn't all been perfect, but nothing is. It has been good, though; very, very good… And this man, this marvelous man… forty years together with my scoundrel, my true match, my true love…
As he settled deeper into the familiar and well-worn contours of his seat, and as his mind began to mull over the past 40 years, more thoughts came to him: It turned out alright. I even made it long enough to be an old man! Well, not OLD old… Sure, we've all had some ups and downs, but we made it, we all made it... And this woman, this wonderful woman… forty years together with my princess, my strong survivor, my perfect love…
As she found his presence in the Force, and as his mind attuned to her, they each realized, with the certainty borne from years of life shared together, that their perceptions and thoughts had turned in the same direction: Forty years… "Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter," and all crude matter must eventually give up and give out. But it's not over yet!… Our friends and family have seen more than their fair share of good and bad, tragedy and triumph. Thank the Force we've succeeded in fighting to come through everything—together. Forty years… Forty amazing years…
Moving as one, their hands meeting above the center console, they turned to look into each other's eyes, sparkling and happy in their togetherness. They smiled their shared smile.
I love you… I know.
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NOTES:
Many thanks again to Erin Darroch for giving this a quick check before it was released, and catching the typos and really awkward phrases!
Story Structure: The structure here mimics the structure of Instinct, Reflection: Equality, Reverence. Yet what was set out there—Leia works on instinct, Han on reflection—was toyed with here: after 40 years, it's reasonable to think they each picked up some of the other's traits. So here, in "Myth," Leia's voice come from reflection, while in "Memorial," alter-ego-Han's voice comes more from instinct, and in "Love," the voices are an entwined mixture of each.
Lamentation: The first two segments turned out surprisingly sad. What can I say? May the sadness hint at just how deeply these stories have touched my heart, and how much my heart aches over the loss of these heroes, fictional and real.
Myth: Disney… Oh, Disney, I don't like you, and I don't like what you have done to our heroes. It pains my heart that our heroes can't celebrate this 40th milestone together. It didn't have to be this way. You did this to them. If only someone would say it was a mistake. And fix it. Officially.
Memorial: Carrie Fisher. You actually broke my heart: this one can't be fixed, not by any official writer, not by any fanfic writer, nor by any weird CGI. Carrie, you were an inspiration, both as a real person and as the one who brought Leia to life. Hope you're dancing up a storm wherever you are there in the moonlight. Without your bra.
Love: Friendship, family, love. Our heroes didn't let an Empire or the dark side of the Force destroy their commitment to these values, so certainly they wouldn't let the relatively mundane trials and tribulations of life destroy them either. As the man himself has said, Star Wars is about "friendships" (1) and "family problems-it's not about spaceships" (2). Well, the spaceships are pretty cool, but we get it, George, we get it. Some of us do, anyways. We also get that sometimes, the friends and family succeed in coming through hardships together.
(1) "George Lucas reiterates Star Wars is for '12-year-olds," calls out 'mean" critics"; 2017/4/13/15288998/george-lucas-star-wars-celebration
(2) "George Lucas on His Decision to "break up" with "Star War"; news/george-lucas-on-why-he-is-done-directing-star-wars/
This story isn't perfect, and I would love to spend more time revising and tweaking… but I'm more interested in getting this out on Star Wars' birthday. ;)
Happy Birthday, Star Wars. Love you.