VICTORY DAWN, PART 2
By Kathryn Olsen
"Anyone home?"
Leia yawned and beckoned General Rieekan into her office. "I thought that if I waited
long enough, you'd come wandering around."
He sank into a chair. "I just made a visit to your malingering love. He complained
that you hadn't been around in the last fifteen minutes."
Leia blushed deeply. "Back on Hoth, he accused me of not being able to let a gorgeous
guy like him out of my sight. I'm proving him wrong."
Rieekan laughed. "He's suffering from a royal case of withdrawal."
"I bet." She sat back and folded her arms. "I hear Guardian came back today. Did
they succeed?"
Rieekan nodded gravely. "I just hope it's worth the price we paid. Out of the twelve-
man team we sent, two returned."
Leia's shoulders slumped. "But they have the information about the Death Star?"
"Yes." He leaned forward, grinning like a child dying to tell their secret. "There's
a new development. The Emperor, impatient with the fact that Vader is behind schedule, is personally
overseeing the construction on-site."
Leia gasped. "That ought to motivate them, if nothing else will."
"If we time it right, we can have the chance to take out the Emperor and Darth Vader
in a single attack."
Leia grinned. "How long is the waiting list for *that* mission?"
"You're the first one other than Mon Mothma and Admiral Ackbar to know about this. I'm
expecting that Mon will want you by her side, rather than risking your neck."
Leia winced slightly. "Mon hasn't exactly spoken to me since I got back. I think she's
still furious about my 'desertion.'"
"Not so much about the actual act as the fires she had to put out afterwards."
"What do you mean?"
Rieekan shrugged. "When word got out that the two most respected members of the Alliance
had resigned or taken a protracted leave of absence on the same day, everyone assumed it was
Mon's fault. Wedge Antilles and half of Rogue Squadron threatened to resign if she didn't resolve
the situation."
Leia stifled a laugh. "I never thought of it that way. If I had known..."
"You still would have done the same thing," he countered. "Nevertheless, we haven't
had a morale crisis like the one you two caused since we lost Bel Iblis and your father."
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "But I had to do this."
"I know." He reached across the desk and took her hand. "I assume it's been worth it."
Leia smiled wearily. "Absolutely."
"Even being a Huttese slave-girl?"
Her eyes narrowed to slits and her expression darkened. "Who told you about it?"
"Han. I told him how lucky he was to have you and he said, 'I know. Any girl who would
endure being a Huttese slave-girl to rescue me is more than worth any other trouble she might
give me.'"
She blushed. "I'd kill him if it weren't bad for my reputation."
"I doubt it."
Her comm rang and she sighed deeply. "Someone let it slip that I'm home."
She keyed it on. "Organa here."
"Welcome back," Mon Mothma's brittle voice replied. "Are you still willing to participate
in the Rebellion?"
"Naturally," Leia said diplomatically. "How can I help you?"
* * *
"Your Highness, welcome back."
Leia turned and embraced Wedge quickly. "Good to see you again. How's command suiting
you?"
Wedge pulled back and grinned. "It's not the same without Luke, but it's nice to have
someone other than my R5 unit obeying my orders."
Leia laughed. "I can imagine."
He released her arms and fixed her with an intense stare. "Are you snobs ever going
to tell us why they're assembling the entire Fleet?"
"In due time, Commander." She nodded towards the entrance to the hangar. "I believe
Mon Mothma will be briefing you regarding that matter within four hours."
"Glad to hear it." He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "My squadron is dying to know
and they claim that Luke would have known by now."
"Hazzards of the trade," she quipped. "Don't let it worry you just yet. Wait until
you find out what's in store for you."
"Touche," he conceded. "You going to see Han?"
"Naturally." She glanced at the *Falcon.* "How's his mood?"
"You don't want to know. Being away from the *Falcon* for six months has heightened
his appreciation of that piece of junk even more and he's being overprotective. I think anyone
in this sector knows what he thinks of Lando Calrissian and the Imperial Starfleet's 'Sithspawned
rookie gunners.'"
Leia grinned. "I'd better go see what I can do for his morale."
She turned and sprinted up the ramp into the main corridor. "Is it safe to come in?"
"Go ahead," Han called from the maintenance bay.
Leia could hear Chewie grumbling from the overhead compartment and as she passed beneath
it, a soddering iron fell. She caught it and tossed up a macrowelder. Chewie roared his thanks
and went back to work.
Han was hunched over the ship's central computer terminal, yanking furiously at wires.
He was mumbling something that Leia was relieved not to understand.
She extended the iron and he looked up. "I believe this belongs to you? Your personal
upholstery discarded it."
He grinned. "You're so beautiful when you're insulting people."
"Thank you."
She sank onto the workbench and glanced over the panel. "Anything I can help with?"
"No," he grumbled. "Only Lando doesn't know the meaning of 'hot-wiring.' He let *mechanics*
work on my ship. Permanent scarring."
"I'm sorry," she said genuinely. "So that's why you're in a bad mood."
He blew out his breath and rolled his eyes. "That's just the beginning."
"I'm sorry."
He turned and took her delicate hands in his grimy ones. "You do a lot to improve my
mood."
"My hands are dirty," she teased.
He pulled her in for a quick kiss. "Good."
She smiled slightly. "Let me rescue you."
He squeezed her fingertips. "Isn't once a week enough?"
"Never."
He stood and sank onto the bench next to her. "What did you have in mind?"
She winced. "All I have to offer you is my company and officer's mess rations."
He grinned. "Best combination in the Galaxy."
* * *
"Exciting is *hardly* the word I would use."
Leia offered Luke a wry grin and reached out to squeeze his fingers. "I didn't expect to see you for a few
months yet."
His smile was genuine, broad. "And miss this? Not on your life." He nodded towards Han. "Besides, the expression
on your face when General Solo here made his intentions known was well worth the trip."
Leia blushed and elbowed Han gently in the side. "His fault for never telling me these things."
Han drew her closer and squeezed her arm. "This General has a meeting to go to. I'll catch up with you all
later."
Leia stretched up for a brief, sweet kiss. "Go," she teased. "Desert me as usual."
He wrapped her in a tight embrace, his cheek pressed to her hair. "I'm sorry, Your Whininess, but even a scoundrel
has to shoulder responsibility sometimes."
She sighed deeply. "I'll pretend to understand, for your sake."
He pulled away and grinned. "I'll try not to let your immeasurable beauty distract me from my duties as an
officer."
She shoved him gently. "Go, we can't stand the sight of you a second longer."
"I know."
Luke grinned at the banter, the look of contentment on both their faces. This was familiar, right, and strangely
comforting.
Leia turned to Luke. "My quarters, now."
He sombered. "Is that an order or a request?"
"A suggestion," she amended. "You look like someone who needs to talk."
"Very perceptive," he said wryly. "Are you sure you aren't a Jedi?"
"I leave mind-reading and sword-play to the insane," she countered. "And you."
"Nice," he growled, but she could see the amusement in his eyes. "Come on, then."
"Luke!"
Leia turned to see Wedge Antilles knock her best friend over in a back-slapping hug. "We thought you wouldn't
make it back in time."
"That's what Leia keeps telling me," Luke countered. "I hear you're attempting to be the first person in history
to survive both Death Star runs."
"You should join those ranks." Wedge tapped Luke's collar, where there was a conspicuous lack of insignia.
"We need your skills out there."
"My place is with the ground crew. I have made my choice." Luke shrugged. "Besides, they've got Antilles
out there with them. How can they ever fail?"
Wedge grinned. "Very true."
Luke executed a crisp salute. "I won't wish you luck, Commander, because I know that's not what you need.
May the Force be with you."
"And you."
* * *
Leia took Luke's arm and steered him out of the briefing room. "Well spoken," she said quietly. "I can't imagine
how difficult turning down a command of Rogue Squadron is for you."
He winced. "A necessary evil. Once my priorities are realigned as they have been in the last weeks, I can't
allow myself to deviate from my path."
Leia turned into a side corridor on the right and began searching her pockets for her passkey. "One of the
advantages of being in High Command is that your billet isn't halfway across the star system from the briefing room."
She stopped at the third door down and unlocked the door. It slid open and Luke followed her into the spacious
accomodations. Predictably, they hardly looked lived in. For as long as he had known her, Leia had never been one
to settle. He expected it was an aftereffect of Alderaan, a lingering dread that if she emotionally attached herself
to a place, it would be destroyed.
"Make yourself comfortable. I just need to get changed."
Luke settled into a chair and removed his boots. His legs ached from the long trip in his X-wing and the long
trek to the briefing room from the auxiliary hangars hadn't helped matters any.
Leia emerged in dark brown linen pants and a cream tunic. Her hair, freed from its normal plaits, was gathered
into a low ponytail at the base of her neck.
Luke looked up and grinned. "I have to know. What did you do with your Huttese slave-girl uniform?"
Leia sank onto the couch and sighed. "What else? I accidentally dropped it into the incinerator, then scattered
the ashes and molten metal over the Dune Sea on the way out. Han wanted it for 'fond remembrance's sake...'"
"Also known as blackmail."
She nodded. "I threatened him with sentry duty on Hoth and he conceded the point." She pushed a strand of
hair from her eyes and leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "So, first things first. I thought you were
going to finish your Jedi training."
Luke's throat constricted and he focused on his hands. "Training usually require's a Jedi Master."
She obviously caught the anguish in his sense and rested her hand on top of his. "What happened?"
"I arrived at Yoda's home to find him sick, dying. I barely had five minutes to speak to him before he became
one with the Force." His brow furrowed and he looked up to see her gaze intent, sympathetic. "I am the last of the
Jedi Order. I don't know if there will ever be another."
"Oh, Luke," she said softly. "I'm so sorry."
He nodded fractionally. "The encouraging news is that he told me that I require no more training."
She caught her breath. "So you *are* a Jedi."
He smiled slightly, hearing his own words echoed. "Not yet," he countered hoarsely. "There is one final test."
"What do you have to do?"
She wasn't pressing, not really expecting an answer. She had always respected his distance, even if she could
not understand it. She had been the closest thing he had to family in the last four years, without knowing their true
blood relation.
The connection staggered him. He could remember a night on Ketaris, when they'd both faced down their greatest
fears. *"I always wanted a brother when I was growing up; someone to share in my misery and help carry the weight
of what our lives had in store for us. I'm so glad I have you instead."*
He shuddered. Perhaps it was better that she did not know, for now. Things were too complicated as they were.
"I don't know exactly," he said softly. "It's a test of my character on the deepest level, the most contraversial
aspect of my being. Being a Jedi means abandoning everything that you are predisposed to being and becoming what the
Force would have you be. I have to forsake my darkness."
She nodded. "I can't even begin to imagine how difficult all of this must be for you. You have a deeper understanding
of what this entails; you always have. You also have a more concrete aversion to the darkness, since you keep yourself
acutely aware of its consequences. In a way, I envy you for this understanding, but I know that it's a hard lesson to
learn." She squeezed his hand. "If there's anything I can ever do, please let me know."
"I will," he promised, smiling for the first time in days. "As if I'd even have to ask. You'd probably be
halfway to a solution before I even realized that there was a problem."
She laughed softly, her face easily breaking into a dazzling smile. "You're probably right," she conceded.
"I know you too well. Some semi-mystical thing, I suppose."
He nodded. It was probably something that all twins shared, unconsciously.
She released his hand and stood. "It's late; I'll put in a call to the billeting coordinator, see if I can't
get you a decent set of quarters."
He shook his head. "I'll take up Chewie on the offer of the crew bunk on the *Falcon.* The food's better there
anyway."
She nodded. "I'll walk you down, then?"
He stood and offered his arm. "I'd like that."
* * *
Luke managed to physically remove himself from the Ewok hut where the resident fuzzballs were celebrating their
new-found alliance. In spirit, he had been removed far longer.
He had felt the summons, tugging at the back of his mind. Despite the urgency of the mission he was on, the
inevitable confrontation was at the forefront of every thought. Ben had said that he could not escape his destiny,
but the impressions had the effect of a tractor beam, drawing him further into himself.
If he did not resolve his feelings on the matter soon, he felt that he would go mad. The only resolution would
come at the hands of the father he never knew.
He did not remember the journey from the hut to the bridge leading from the village proper into the forest beyond.
His gaze was fixed on the Death Star that lingered in the sky. He leaned heavily against the railing, letting it support
his burden.
It was there that his sister found him.
She had undoubtedly been drawn by his distress, by the sympathetic bond they shared. Or perhaps just concern
for her friend. She was untrained, but her use of her Force powers was unmistakable.
That they were twins was incredible to him. He saw little of himself in her or the other way around. She was
so very much a Princess, her soul and bearing noble. Her beauty was so distinctive, so deep. He wondered if she had
inherited it from their long-lost mother or if she had inherited some part of Anakin Skywalker.
Perhaps she was so attuned to the dangers of darkness because her adoptive parents knew all too well the darkness
she was born into.
His isolation from the rest of the Galaxy, his harsh upbringing, had undoubtedly been for the same purpose.
Despite the disparity in their upbringings, Luke and Leia had the same regimental, intense dedication to virtue that
had been a necessary part of their lives.
"Luke, what's wrong?"
He turned to look at her, tried to remember anything of their mother, to link the two women somehow, but nothing
came. "Leia," he breathed softly. "Do you remember your mother, your real mother?"
Her face became drawn, concentrated. "Just a little," she said. "She died when I was very young."
*Probably Vader's doing.* "What do you remember?"
"Just images, really. Feelings."
"Tell me," he urged her, almost desperately.
If he were to face the darkness that was his father, he needed some reassurance of his mother's love and reality
to sustain him. It was irrational, something he'd never considered before, but something he felt necessary.
"She was very beautiful," Leia said quietly. "Kind, but sad."
*Like Leia.*
"Luke, tell me, what's troubling you?"
*Where to begin,* he thought bitterly. *What isn't troubling me?*
"Vader's here," he said finally. "Now. On this moon."
Leia drew in her breath sharply, horrified. "How can you tell?"
"I felt his presence. He can feel when I'm near. That's why I have to go."
He could sense her sudden spike in fear, the concern for his safety at the forefront of her mind. She began
to protest, but he shook his head. "I have to face him."
"Why," she demanded.
He swallowed hard, trying to form the words that could possibly explain all of this. "Because he is my father,"
he said simply.
He looked up, dreading the revulsion that would undoubtedly come. Leia's expression was nothing but sympathetic
horror. "Your father," she repeated.
He nodded. "There's more. It won't be easy for you to hear, but you must. If I don't make it back, you're
the only hope for the Alliance."
She shot to her feet, stunned. "Luke, don't talk like that," she implored. "You have powers I don't understand
and could never have."
"You're wrong, Leia," he said quietly. "You have that power too."
Her jaw dropped slightly and confusion resumed. He took her hand gently and looked down at their intertwined
fingers. Her fingers were so delicate, almost fragile. He was always afraid that he might damage her somehow. Now
he had to take that chance.
"The Force runs strong in my family," he continued. "My father has it, I have it. And..." He looked up at
her anguished face. "My sister has it."
The horror he expected didn't come, nor did the confusion or the surprise. Only calm. "I know," she admitted.
"Somehow, I've always known."
He nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. "Then you know why I have to face him."
"No," she burst out. "Luke, run away. Far away. If he can feel your presence, then leave this place."
Luke smiled sadly. *That would be so much simpler, but we both know it can't happen.*
She looked away in hopes of sparing him the sight of her tears, but he saw them anyway. "I wish I could go
with you," she said quietly.
"No, you don't." He reached up to cup her cheek. "You've always been strong."
She met his gaze and his heart broke at the expression on her face. "But why must you confront him?"
"Because there is still good in him. I've felt it." He bent his forehead to touch hers, gripping her arms
lightly. "I have to try."
He embraced her tightly, half-afraid that he would never see her again, mostly trying to assure himself and
her that he would. They both wept openly, knowing that when the dawn came, they'd be facing their own destinies alone.
He pulled back hesitantly and kissed her forehead in the familiar gesture, then forced himself to turn and leave
her. His feet moved forward of his own free will, taking him towards the inevitable.
He stopped outside the village, leaning against a tree as the emotions finally caught up with him. *"He has
too much of his father in him." "That's what I'm afraid of."* *"I can't kill my own father." "Then the Emperor has
already won."*
He sensed a sudden burst of fear from Leia, one that he'd often felt, that she would be betrayed to Darth Vader.
He stretched out, wrapping every sense of love and comfort that he could muster. He felt the fears recede and somehow,
she returned the sensation with her meager knowledge of the Force.
His mind relaxed, his heart slowed, and he let his breath out slowly. Even if he had been left alone by the
Jedi, the Force was still with him. Love strengthened the Force as much as the life it created and he would never lack
for that vital resource.
* * *
Leia awoke with the dawn, her sleep having been troubled with nightmares of whatever fate waited for her brother.
She was exhausted, emotionally and physically from the previous day's events.
She glanced across the room to see Han, predictably, sound asleep.
She rolled onto her side and stood carefully, not straining her aching muscles. The tumble from the speeder
bike had lasting effects.
Her fatigues were finished drying, so she donned the blue trousers, olive-green tunic, and camouflage overshirt
that they all wore. She raked her fingers through her long hair and began braiding it around her head. She'd been
too many combat situations to not know that any stray strands could play games with her target practice.
The snoring cut off and she turned to see Han sitting up. "Morning always comes too soon," he grumbled.
She tossed a pair of socks at him and pulled on her knee-high boots. "It's the dawn of victory. Today is the
day when we will attack the Empire's most fearsome weapon and pray that we'll make it out of there with all our limbs
and brains present."
"Poetic," he growled. "How are you feeling?"
She stretched languidly, yawning. "Sore."
"I'm not surprised." He pulled on his shirt and buttoned it quickly, then pulled on his vest. "We're about
ten klicks from the shield generator, so we'll have to leave in about thirty minutes."
Leia smiled faintly. "As soon as we've broken off diplomatic relations with our new cousins?"
Han rolled his eyes. "That too. I figured we'd avail ourselves of their food supplies before breaking the
bad news that we're leaving to them."
"How very mercenary of you."
He crossed to her and kissed her deeply, lingeringly. "Luke's going to be fine," he said softly.
"I know. It doesn't keep me from worrying."
He stroked her cheek. "You're too much of a big sister to him."
She buried her chin in her chest and winced. "You have no idea."
He dropped into a crouching position and cupped her chin in his hand. "What happened last night?"
"A lot," she said quietly, "but not enough."
He sighed. "I wish you would trust me to tell me."
She shook her head. "It's not a matter of trust. It's something I need to come to terms with before I can
let anyone else know about it."
He winced. "You're turning into Luke again."
She smiled. "Enigmatic?"
"Elusive."
She shrugged. "It's why you love me."
"The list is a lot longer," he countered. "If we have any downtime, I'll start telling you about it."
She shoved him gently. "I'd rather you be mercenary than hopelessly romantic."
"No harm in the truth."
She sucked in her breath. "Not always."
He drew her into an embrace. "Will you be all right?"
She buried her cheek against his shoulder. "I hope so."
* * *
His brief sleep was blessedly dreamless and left him slightly refreshed. The summons had not vanished, but
he could now deal with them.
He found a sentry patrol five kilometers from the village, comprised of four stormtroopers and a spindly AT-ST
walker.
Luke stepped from the shadows and raised his hands. The trooper nearest him brought his blaster to bear on
him. "Boys, we have company."
"I surrender," Luke said calmly.
"Search him," the first trooper snapped.
They came up with nothing but his newly constructed lightsaber. He could hear someone swear softly. "Who are
you, scum?"
"Commander Luke Skywalker." He passed his hand across his midline. "You will take me to Lord Vader now."
The commander's commlink hissed. "Sentry TX-331 bringing one in."
The AT-ST lowered enough for them to climb aboard and Luke was restrained in the cargo compartment. The hatch
to the cockpit was left open.
"Did you see who we're bringing in?"
"No," the driver admitted. "Anyone interesting?"
"Luke Skywalker."
"Stang," the driver exclaimed. "So he's not a legend."
"Anything but. He's too short to be a stormtrooper, too weak to be a real Jedi. I don't know what the brass
are afraid of."
"Any lightsaber-wielding maniac who's a hot hand in an X-wing is worthy of a little fear."
"True."
"Lord Vader will certainly be pleased with this turn of events."
"Pleased? Vader? I think you overestimate his emotional capacity."
"Nevertheless, Vader himself is meeting us there."
"Patrol X-7, requesting docking permission."
"Granted, Seven. Bring the prisoner to the south passage."
Luke stood and joined his captors at the hatch. One of the braver troopers shoved him none-too-gently, but
he did not react. He did not glower. He did not break stride.
He simply entered the bunker to face his destiny.
By Kathryn Olsen
"Anyone home?"
Leia yawned and beckoned General Rieekan into her office. "I thought that if I waited
long enough, you'd come wandering around."
He sank into a chair. "I just made a visit to your malingering love. He complained
that you hadn't been around in the last fifteen minutes."
Leia blushed deeply. "Back on Hoth, he accused me of not being able to let a gorgeous
guy like him out of my sight. I'm proving him wrong."
Rieekan laughed. "He's suffering from a royal case of withdrawal."
"I bet." She sat back and folded her arms. "I hear Guardian came back today. Did
they succeed?"
Rieekan nodded gravely. "I just hope it's worth the price we paid. Out of the twelve-
man team we sent, two returned."
Leia's shoulders slumped. "But they have the information about the Death Star?"
"Yes." He leaned forward, grinning like a child dying to tell their secret. "There's
a new development. The Emperor, impatient with the fact that Vader is behind schedule, is personally
overseeing the construction on-site."
Leia gasped. "That ought to motivate them, if nothing else will."
"If we time it right, we can have the chance to take out the Emperor and Darth Vader
in a single attack."
Leia grinned. "How long is the waiting list for *that* mission?"
"You're the first one other than Mon Mothma and Admiral Ackbar to know about this. I'm
expecting that Mon will want you by her side, rather than risking your neck."
Leia winced slightly. "Mon hasn't exactly spoken to me since I got back. I think she's
still furious about my 'desertion.'"
"Not so much about the actual act as the fires she had to put out afterwards."
"What do you mean?"
Rieekan shrugged. "When word got out that the two most respected members of the Alliance
had resigned or taken a protracted leave of absence on the same day, everyone assumed it was
Mon's fault. Wedge Antilles and half of Rogue Squadron threatened to resign if she didn't resolve
the situation."
Leia stifled a laugh. "I never thought of it that way. If I had known..."
"You still would have done the same thing," he countered. "Nevertheless, we haven't
had a morale crisis like the one you two caused since we lost Bel Iblis and your father."
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "But I had to do this."
"I know." He reached across the desk and took her hand. "I assume it's been worth it."
Leia smiled wearily. "Absolutely."
"Even being a Huttese slave-girl?"
Her eyes narrowed to slits and her expression darkened. "Who told you about it?"
"Han. I told him how lucky he was to have you and he said, 'I know. Any girl who would
endure being a Huttese slave-girl to rescue me is more than worth any other trouble she might
give me.'"
She blushed. "I'd kill him if it weren't bad for my reputation."
"I doubt it."
Her comm rang and she sighed deeply. "Someone let it slip that I'm home."
She keyed it on. "Organa here."
"Welcome back," Mon Mothma's brittle voice replied. "Are you still willing to participate
in the Rebellion?"
"Naturally," Leia said diplomatically. "How can I help you?"
* * *
"Your Highness, welcome back."
Leia turned and embraced Wedge quickly. "Good to see you again. How's command suiting
you?"
Wedge pulled back and grinned. "It's not the same without Luke, but it's nice to have
someone other than my R5 unit obeying my orders."
Leia laughed. "I can imagine."
He released her arms and fixed her with an intense stare. "Are you snobs ever going
to tell us why they're assembling the entire Fleet?"
"In due time, Commander." She nodded towards the entrance to the hangar. "I believe
Mon Mothma will be briefing you regarding that matter within four hours."
"Glad to hear it." He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "My squadron is dying to know
and they claim that Luke would have known by now."
"Hazzards of the trade," she quipped. "Don't let it worry you just yet. Wait until
you find out what's in store for you."
"Touche," he conceded. "You going to see Han?"
"Naturally." She glanced at the *Falcon.* "How's his mood?"
"You don't want to know. Being away from the *Falcon* for six months has heightened
his appreciation of that piece of junk even more and he's being overprotective. I think anyone
in this sector knows what he thinks of Lando Calrissian and the Imperial Starfleet's 'Sithspawned
rookie gunners.'"
Leia grinned. "I'd better go see what I can do for his morale."
She turned and sprinted up the ramp into the main corridor. "Is it safe to come in?"
"Go ahead," Han called from the maintenance bay.
Leia could hear Chewie grumbling from the overhead compartment and as she passed beneath
it, a soddering iron fell. She caught it and tossed up a macrowelder. Chewie roared his thanks
and went back to work.
Han was hunched over the ship's central computer terminal, yanking furiously at wires.
He was mumbling something that Leia was relieved not to understand.
She extended the iron and he looked up. "I believe this belongs to you? Your personal
upholstery discarded it."
He grinned. "You're so beautiful when you're insulting people."
"Thank you."
She sank onto the workbench and glanced over the panel. "Anything I can help with?"
"No," he grumbled. "Only Lando doesn't know the meaning of 'hot-wiring.' He let *mechanics*
work on my ship. Permanent scarring."
"I'm sorry," she said genuinely. "So that's why you're in a bad mood."
He blew out his breath and rolled his eyes. "That's just the beginning."
"I'm sorry."
He turned and took her delicate hands in his grimy ones. "You do a lot to improve my
mood."
"My hands are dirty," she teased.
He pulled her in for a quick kiss. "Good."
She smiled slightly. "Let me rescue you."
He squeezed her fingertips. "Isn't once a week enough?"
"Never."
He stood and sank onto the bench next to her. "What did you have in mind?"
She winced. "All I have to offer you is my company and officer's mess rations."
He grinned. "Best combination in the Galaxy."
* * *
"Exciting is *hardly* the word I would use."
Leia offered Luke a wry grin and reached out to squeeze his fingers. "I didn't expect to see you for a few
months yet."
His smile was genuine, broad. "And miss this? Not on your life." He nodded towards Han. "Besides, the expression
on your face when General Solo here made his intentions known was well worth the trip."
Leia blushed and elbowed Han gently in the side. "His fault for never telling me these things."
Han drew her closer and squeezed her arm. "This General has a meeting to go to. I'll catch up with you all
later."
Leia stretched up for a brief, sweet kiss. "Go," she teased. "Desert me as usual."
He wrapped her in a tight embrace, his cheek pressed to her hair. "I'm sorry, Your Whininess, but even a scoundrel
has to shoulder responsibility sometimes."
She sighed deeply. "I'll pretend to understand, for your sake."
He pulled away and grinned. "I'll try not to let your immeasurable beauty distract me from my duties as an
officer."
She shoved him gently. "Go, we can't stand the sight of you a second longer."
"I know."
Luke grinned at the banter, the look of contentment on both their faces. This was familiar, right, and strangely
comforting.
Leia turned to Luke. "My quarters, now."
He sombered. "Is that an order or a request?"
"A suggestion," she amended. "You look like someone who needs to talk."
"Very perceptive," he said wryly. "Are you sure you aren't a Jedi?"
"I leave mind-reading and sword-play to the insane," she countered. "And you."
"Nice," he growled, but she could see the amusement in his eyes. "Come on, then."
"Luke!"
Leia turned to see Wedge Antilles knock her best friend over in a back-slapping hug. "We thought you wouldn't
make it back in time."
"That's what Leia keeps telling me," Luke countered. "I hear you're attempting to be the first person in history
to survive both Death Star runs."
"You should join those ranks." Wedge tapped Luke's collar, where there was a conspicuous lack of insignia.
"We need your skills out there."
"My place is with the ground crew. I have made my choice." Luke shrugged. "Besides, they've got Antilles
out there with them. How can they ever fail?"
Wedge grinned. "Very true."
Luke executed a crisp salute. "I won't wish you luck, Commander, because I know that's not what you need.
May the Force be with you."
"And you."
* * *
Leia took Luke's arm and steered him out of the briefing room. "Well spoken," she said quietly. "I can't imagine
how difficult turning down a command of Rogue Squadron is for you."
He winced. "A necessary evil. Once my priorities are realigned as they have been in the last weeks, I can't
allow myself to deviate from my path."
Leia turned into a side corridor on the right and began searching her pockets for her passkey. "One of the
advantages of being in High Command is that your billet isn't halfway across the star system from the briefing room."
She stopped at the third door down and unlocked the door. It slid open and Luke followed her into the spacious
accomodations. Predictably, they hardly looked lived in. For as long as he had known her, Leia had never been one
to settle. He expected it was an aftereffect of Alderaan, a lingering dread that if she emotionally attached herself
to a place, it would be destroyed.
"Make yourself comfortable. I just need to get changed."
Luke settled into a chair and removed his boots. His legs ached from the long trip in his X-wing and the long
trek to the briefing room from the auxiliary hangars hadn't helped matters any.
Leia emerged in dark brown linen pants and a cream tunic. Her hair, freed from its normal plaits, was gathered
into a low ponytail at the base of her neck.
Luke looked up and grinned. "I have to know. What did you do with your Huttese slave-girl uniform?"
Leia sank onto the couch and sighed. "What else? I accidentally dropped it into the incinerator, then scattered
the ashes and molten metal over the Dune Sea on the way out. Han wanted it for 'fond remembrance's sake...'"
"Also known as blackmail."
She nodded. "I threatened him with sentry duty on Hoth and he conceded the point." She pushed a strand of
hair from her eyes and leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "So, first things first. I thought you were
going to finish your Jedi training."
Luke's throat constricted and he focused on his hands. "Training usually require's a Jedi Master."
She obviously caught the anguish in his sense and rested her hand on top of his. "What happened?"
"I arrived at Yoda's home to find him sick, dying. I barely had five minutes to speak to him before he became
one with the Force." His brow furrowed and he looked up to see her gaze intent, sympathetic. "I am the last of the
Jedi Order. I don't know if there will ever be another."
"Oh, Luke," she said softly. "I'm so sorry."
He nodded fractionally. "The encouraging news is that he told me that I require no more training."
She caught her breath. "So you *are* a Jedi."
He smiled slightly, hearing his own words echoed. "Not yet," he countered hoarsely. "There is one final test."
"What do you have to do?"
She wasn't pressing, not really expecting an answer. She had always respected his distance, even if she could
not understand it. She had been the closest thing he had to family in the last four years, without knowing their true
blood relation.
The connection staggered him. He could remember a night on Ketaris, when they'd both faced down their greatest
fears. *"I always wanted a brother when I was growing up; someone to share in my misery and help carry the weight
of what our lives had in store for us. I'm so glad I have you instead."*
He shuddered. Perhaps it was better that she did not know, for now. Things were too complicated as they were.
"I don't know exactly," he said softly. "It's a test of my character on the deepest level, the most contraversial
aspect of my being. Being a Jedi means abandoning everything that you are predisposed to being and becoming what the
Force would have you be. I have to forsake my darkness."
She nodded. "I can't even begin to imagine how difficult all of this must be for you. You have a deeper understanding
of what this entails; you always have. You also have a more concrete aversion to the darkness, since you keep yourself
acutely aware of its consequences. In a way, I envy you for this understanding, but I know that it's a hard lesson to
learn." She squeezed his hand. "If there's anything I can ever do, please let me know."
"I will," he promised, smiling for the first time in days. "As if I'd even have to ask. You'd probably be
halfway to a solution before I even realized that there was a problem."
She laughed softly, her face easily breaking into a dazzling smile. "You're probably right," she conceded.
"I know you too well. Some semi-mystical thing, I suppose."
He nodded. It was probably something that all twins shared, unconsciously.
She released his hand and stood. "It's late; I'll put in a call to the billeting coordinator, see if I can't
get you a decent set of quarters."
He shook his head. "I'll take up Chewie on the offer of the crew bunk on the *Falcon.* The food's better there
anyway."
She nodded. "I'll walk you down, then?"
He stood and offered his arm. "I'd like that."
* * *
Luke managed to physically remove himself from the Ewok hut where the resident fuzzballs were celebrating their
new-found alliance. In spirit, he had been removed far longer.
He had felt the summons, tugging at the back of his mind. Despite the urgency of the mission he was on, the
inevitable confrontation was at the forefront of every thought. Ben had said that he could not escape his destiny,
but the impressions had the effect of a tractor beam, drawing him further into himself.
If he did not resolve his feelings on the matter soon, he felt that he would go mad. The only resolution would
come at the hands of the father he never knew.
He did not remember the journey from the hut to the bridge leading from the village proper into the forest beyond.
His gaze was fixed on the Death Star that lingered in the sky. He leaned heavily against the railing, letting it support
his burden.
It was there that his sister found him.
She had undoubtedly been drawn by his distress, by the sympathetic bond they shared. Or perhaps just concern
for her friend. She was untrained, but her use of her Force powers was unmistakable.
That they were twins was incredible to him. He saw little of himself in her or the other way around. She was
so very much a Princess, her soul and bearing noble. Her beauty was so distinctive, so deep. He wondered if she had
inherited it from their long-lost mother or if she had inherited some part of Anakin Skywalker.
Perhaps she was so attuned to the dangers of darkness because her adoptive parents knew all too well the darkness
she was born into.
His isolation from the rest of the Galaxy, his harsh upbringing, had undoubtedly been for the same purpose.
Despite the disparity in their upbringings, Luke and Leia had the same regimental, intense dedication to virtue that
had been a necessary part of their lives.
"Luke, what's wrong?"
He turned to look at her, tried to remember anything of their mother, to link the two women somehow, but nothing
came. "Leia," he breathed softly. "Do you remember your mother, your real mother?"
Her face became drawn, concentrated. "Just a little," she said. "She died when I was very young."
*Probably Vader's doing.* "What do you remember?"
"Just images, really. Feelings."
"Tell me," he urged her, almost desperately.
If he were to face the darkness that was his father, he needed some reassurance of his mother's love and reality
to sustain him. It was irrational, something he'd never considered before, but something he felt necessary.
"She was very beautiful," Leia said quietly. "Kind, but sad."
*Like Leia.*
"Luke, tell me, what's troubling you?"
*Where to begin,* he thought bitterly. *What isn't troubling me?*
"Vader's here," he said finally. "Now. On this moon."
Leia drew in her breath sharply, horrified. "How can you tell?"
"I felt his presence. He can feel when I'm near. That's why I have to go."
He could sense her sudden spike in fear, the concern for his safety at the forefront of her mind. She began
to protest, but he shook his head. "I have to face him."
"Why," she demanded.
He swallowed hard, trying to form the words that could possibly explain all of this. "Because he is my father,"
he said simply.
He looked up, dreading the revulsion that would undoubtedly come. Leia's expression was nothing but sympathetic
horror. "Your father," she repeated.
He nodded. "There's more. It won't be easy for you to hear, but you must. If I don't make it back, you're
the only hope for the Alliance."
She shot to her feet, stunned. "Luke, don't talk like that," she implored. "You have powers I don't understand
and could never have."
"You're wrong, Leia," he said quietly. "You have that power too."
Her jaw dropped slightly and confusion resumed. He took her hand gently and looked down at their intertwined
fingers. Her fingers were so delicate, almost fragile. He was always afraid that he might damage her somehow. Now
he had to take that chance.
"The Force runs strong in my family," he continued. "My father has it, I have it. And..." He looked up at
her anguished face. "My sister has it."
The horror he expected didn't come, nor did the confusion or the surprise. Only calm. "I know," she admitted.
"Somehow, I've always known."
He nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. "Then you know why I have to face him."
"No," she burst out. "Luke, run away. Far away. If he can feel your presence, then leave this place."
Luke smiled sadly. *That would be so much simpler, but we both know it can't happen.*
She looked away in hopes of sparing him the sight of her tears, but he saw them anyway. "I wish I could go
with you," she said quietly.
"No, you don't." He reached up to cup her cheek. "You've always been strong."
She met his gaze and his heart broke at the expression on her face. "But why must you confront him?"
"Because there is still good in him. I've felt it." He bent his forehead to touch hers, gripping her arms
lightly. "I have to try."
He embraced her tightly, half-afraid that he would never see her again, mostly trying to assure himself and
her that he would. They both wept openly, knowing that when the dawn came, they'd be facing their own destinies alone.
He pulled back hesitantly and kissed her forehead in the familiar gesture, then forced himself to turn and leave
her. His feet moved forward of his own free will, taking him towards the inevitable.
He stopped outside the village, leaning against a tree as the emotions finally caught up with him. *"He has
too much of his father in him." "That's what I'm afraid of."* *"I can't kill my own father." "Then the Emperor has
already won."*
He sensed a sudden burst of fear from Leia, one that he'd often felt, that she would be betrayed to Darth Vader.
He stretched out, wrapping every sense of love and comfort that he could muster. He felt the fears recede and somehow,
she returned the sensation with her meager knowledge of the Force.
His mind relaxed, his heart slowed, and he let his breath out slowly. Even if he had been left alone by the
Jedi, the Force was still with him. Love strengthened the Force as much as the life it created and he would never lack
for that vital resource.
* * *
Leia awoke with the dawn, her sleep having been troubled with nightmares of whatever fate waited for her brother.
She was exhausted, emotionally and physically from the previous day's events.
She glanced across the room to see Han, predictably, sound asleep.
She rolled onto her side and stood carefully, not straining her aching muscles. The tumble from the speeder
bike had lasting effects.
Her fatigues were finished drying, so she donned the blue trousers, olive-green tunic, and camouflage overshirt
that they all wore. She raked her fingers through her long hair and began braiding it around her head. She'd been
too many combat situations to not know that any stray strands could play games with her target practice.
The snoring cut off and she turned to see Han sitting up. "Morning always comes too soon," he grumbled.
She tossed a pair of socks at him and pulled on her knee-high boots. "It's the dawn of victory. Today is the
day when we will attack the Empire's most fearsome weapon and pray that we'll make it out of there with all our limbs
and brains present."
"Poetic," he growled. "How are you feeling?"
She stretched languidly, yawning. "Sore."
"I'm not surprised." He pulled on his shirt and buttoned it quickly, then pulled on his vest. "We're about
ten klicks from the shield generator, so we'll have to leave in about thirty minutes."
Leia smiled faintly. "As soon as we've broken off diplomatic relations with our new cousins?"
Han rolled his eyes. "That too. I figured we'd avail ourselves of their food supplies before breaking the
bad news that we're leaving to them."
"How very mercenary of you."
He crossed to her and kissed her deeply, lingeringly. "Luke's going to be fine," he said softly.
"I know. It doesn't keep me from worrying."
He stroked her cheek. "You're too much of a big sister to him."
She buried her chin in her chest and winced. "You have no idea."
He dropped into a crouching position and cupped her chin in his hand. "What happened last night?"
"A lot," she said quietly, "but not enough."
He sighed. "I wish you would trust me to tell me."
She shook her head. "It's not a matter of trust. It's something I need to come to terms with before I can
let anyone else know about it."
He winced. "You're turning into Luke again."
She smiled. "Enigmatic?"
"Elusive."
She shrugged. "It's why you love me."
"The list is a lot longer," he countered. "If we have any downtime, I'll start telling you about it."
She shoved him gently. "I'd rather you be mercenary than hopelessly romantic."
"No harm in the truth."
She sucked in her breath. "Not always."
He drew her into an embrace. "Will you be all right?"
She buried her cheek against his shoulder. "I hope so."
* * *
His brief sleep was blessedly dreamless and left him slightly refreshed. The summons had not vanished, but
he could now deal with them.
He found a sentry patrol five kilometers from the village, comprised of four stormtroopers and a spindly AT-ST
walker.
Luke stepped from the shadows and raised his hands. The trooper nearest him brought his blaster to bear on
him. "Boys, we have company."
"I surrender," Luke said calmly.
"Search him," the first trooper snapped.
They came up with nothing but his newly constructed lightsaber. He could hear someone swear softly. "Who are
you, scum?"
"Commander Luke Skywalker." He passed his hand across his midline. "You will take me to Lord Vader now."
The commander's commlink hissed. "Sentry TX-331 bringing one in."
The AT-ST lowered enough for them to climb aboard and Luke was restrained in the cargo compartment. The hatch
to the cockpit was left open.
"Did you see who we're bringing in?"
"No," the driver admitted. "Anyone interesting?"
"Luke Skywalker."
"Stang," the driver exclaimed. "So he's not a legend."
"Anything but. He's too short to be a stormtrooper, too weak to be a real Jedi. I don't know what the brass
are afraid of."
"Any lightsaber-wielding maniac who's a hot hand in an X-wing is worthy of a little fear."
"True."
"Lord Vader will certainly be pleased with this turn of events."
"Pleased? Vader? I think you overestimate his emotional capacity."
"Nevertheless, Vader himself is meeting us there."
"Patrol X-7, requesting docking permission."
"Granted, Seven. Bring the prisoner to the south passage."
Luke stood and joined his captors at the hatch. One of the braver troopers shoved him none-too-gently, but
he did not react. He did not glower. He did not break stride.
He simply entered the bunker to face his destiny.