CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The formal reception hall in the Galactic Senate building was filled to capacity. Warm sunlight streamed in the tall, narrow windows behind the dais, making the dress-whites uniforms of the rows of soldiers seem even brighter than usual. Supreme Chancellor Trellem and other dignitaries bestowed Medals of Honor upon various units and individuals in recognition of exceptional service in the Vyhrragian crisis or other, less prominent conflicts in the Republic.
The next group called forward was the surviving members of the Army Special Forces platoon commanded by Lieutenant Bryon Skywalker; seventeen of their forty-eight had been killed in the Battle of the Trade Spine. In place of the usual profuse description of the relevant military glories the Chancellor read a simple statement extolling the platoon's success in a covert operation, noting that while further detail would be inappropriate the unit's achievement should not be underestimated. Then he and several prominent committee chairmen presented the medals by draping them formally over each man's respectfully bowed head.
As one the men turned around to acknowledge the cheering and applause from the crowd. Bryon's eyes passed over the many rows of soldiers to the smaller section of guests at the rear of the long room. It took him only a few seconds to find his sister Leia, looking as radiant as ever in her dark blue formal gown and elaborate Naboo hairstyle. At her right shoulder her handmaiden wore a simple blue dress and hooded cloak. Although the cowl concealed Sarré's eyes, he saw the broad grin on her face – and watched her reach up to wipe tears off her cheeks.
Without taking his eyes from her, he wondered about the medal now hanging from his neck. Although there was no official explanation, of course, the only mission for which it could have been awarded was the slaughter at the pirate's base. To him it seemed highly offensive to celebrate their victory that day. While it indeed was an impressive tactical accomplishment, it hardly warranted treatment as something positive. Bryon sighed deeply. Fortunately his platoon had a months' leave effective immediately, so he not only would have a lot of time with Sarré but also could talk out his feelings with his father.
A short time later Navy officers Solo, Chewbacca, and Calrissian were awarded their medals for exemplary voluntary service in the rescue from Vyhrragian custody of Senator Leia Organa of Naboo. At the rear of the hall the Senator had a broad smile on her face and cheered loudly and happily for the trio.
When the ceremony finally ended, Han and Bryon found Leia and Sarré at the previously arranged spot in the bright and wide corridor. Each man already had tucked his medal away in a pocket; Bryon because of his discomfort, Han because it seemed like some kind of gaudy necklace – and Han Solo did not wear necklaces. Habitually the men took the outside positions as the four began to stride quickly toward the turbolifts.
"I'll walk you back to your office, but then I'll need a few hours," Han explained. "Lando's shipping out. The Special Ops guys have some data analysis that really caught his interest. And I owe him a dinner before he leaves."
"Let me guess," Leia grinned. "You lost a wager?"
"Let's just say I blame it all on Luke and Mara," he laughed.
To their left Sarré reached out her hand and took Bryon's. He already had told her about his leave, so there was nothing at all they needed to say.
"Wait," Leia said, "I thought you and Chewie and Lando were still entitled to be on vacation? Why is he reporting back so soon?"
"Oh, yeah," Han chuckled. "We figured this was all the excitement we could handle for a while. Plus, we can bank the leave time for later. And Lando really does want this assignment, so we don't mind."
"Okay," she smiled. "Be sure to stop by my office when you're free later."
Han flashed her a lopsided grin. "As you wish, Princess."
Struggling to keep pace with the quartet, Threepio and Artoo cut their way around a stalled group of soldiers.
Artoo blooped and whistled. "Yes, I did think the ceremony was a bit showy," Threepio answered. "But humans seem to enjoy such festivities."
Another burst of beeps and squawks. "While I may be programmed to understand human behavior, there certainly are some aspects of their society that I simply never will understand," the protocol droid complained. "And this, I'm afraid, is one of them."
Artoo whistled sharply in consternation. "What? Oh dear!" Threepio looked up just in time to see the turbolift door sliding down. "Mistress Leia! Wait! Wait for us!"
The door closed and the lift whisked away. Threepio looked down at Artoo. "This is all your fault!"
The astromech honked rudely and rolled toward the next available lift.
---
Leia leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. She reached out her hands and traced them along the edges of broad surface of the dark wooden desk. It had been about three weeks since she last had sat here in her office in the Senate. Is that possible? Has it really been only three weeks? Shaking her head sadly, she felt as if the young woman sitting here now was a completely different person than the one who had been there previously.
Sarré stepped through the office door slowly, pulling on her cloak again. "Leia?"
"Yes, Sarré. What is it?"
"They'll be here momentarily."
"Good," she smiled. "Very good."
Leia rose from her chair and paced to the middle of the brightly lit blue room. After a few more relaxing breaths to calm her thoughts, Leia watched Sarré lead Sabé and Bail Millius through the door.
"Leia!" Sabé rushed forward and pulled her into a fierce embrace. "It's so wonderful to see you. I was so worried."
"It's nice to see you too," Leia smiled. "It's good to be here again."
"I returned my credentials to the Sergeant-at-Arms. I'm a private citizen again, Senator," Sabé chuckled.
Leia nodded graciously. "I am in your debt." Then she turned to the Senator from Alderaan and shook his hand firmly. "How are you, Bail? How are we doing?"
Millius grinned broadly. "Well and very, very well," he laughed. "I am most delighted to have you back. Our leadership council missed you tremendously. Your insight is important to us. And as for the cowards – we are on the rise, Leia. When you were kidnapped we were down almost two hundred."
Leia frowned at the number. "And now?"
"Your rescue at Xixus. The Battle of the Trade Spine. And then this morning your mother released the word – so far only through back channels, of course – that she not only will be joining our faction but also the leadership council. The dynamics have changed entirely. We're down only fifty."
"Fifty?" Leia's face brightened in delight. In a legislative body comprised of exactly 1200 delegates, it bordered on a statistically insignificant difference. "Trellem can brush us aside no longer. He'll have to compromise if he hopes to get anything accomplished." She paused and considered a thought. "One more mistake and he'd lose a no-confidence vote."
"I agree," Millius nodded. "But we can't afford to move one just yet. Not all of the dissatisfaction with Trellem corresponds to support for whomever we would nominate for Chancellor."
"And replacing him with Rylla or Breena doesn't achieve anything," Sabé chuckled.
"Nevertheless," Leia beamed, "we're not on the outside anymore. He will have to let us play an equal role in setting the agenda."
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Sarré apologized, "but we need to go. The session is about to start."
The three others nodded and followed her out the door.
---
The middle-aged man with long curly black hair and a neatly trimmed moustache and goatee, all streaked with gray, lay on his back in a bed in the plain white room of a healing ward. He knew he was slowly recovering from his wounds: lightsaber injuries to both legs, his left arm, and multiple punctures of his torso. He was lucky to be alive. And he was glad he had lived, because that would enable him to exact a terrible vengeance upon those who had destroyed his life.
The Jedi.
Once he had been one of them. Then one day without warning they had turned against him and tried to kill him. As much as he concentrated and fought to remember, he had no idea how long he had been here.
He remembered clearly only one part of that life: his apprentice. The tall young woman. Long brown hair. Piercing blue eyes. A beautiful face. A strong, lean body. She had been like his daughter.
And the Jedi had taken her from him.
They had not wanted him to train her any longer, so they had come to kill him. They nearly had succeeded too. But he had lived. And he would have his revenge.
The door to his room swished open. A brunette young woman stepped through and walked quickly to his bedside. She wore a low-cut sleeveless black shirt and a short black skirt. "How is your pain?" she asked gently.
"Not so bad today," he sighed.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes," he insisted. He saw the sadness in her eyes. "Where is Bekka?" he asked fearfully. The diminutive blonde had been his constant companion, devoted healer, and tender lover for his recovery. He had seen the truth and restored his memory with the young woman's help. Looking at her friend now, he felt a terrible void.
"I'm… I'm so sorry," the brunette consoled him. "She's gone."
"She's dead?" His face fell. "What happened? Did…" He couldn't speak the thought.
"Yes," she nodded solemnly. "A Jedi killed her."
"Who?" he demanded angrily, a terrible fire burning in his spirit. "Who? Tell me!"
"A Padawan learner named Luke Skywalker."
"No!"
It was impossible. It couldn't be true.
The Jedi had taken his apprentice from him. And now her brother had killed Bekka. His soul filled with hatred. "He will pay for this! He and his father and all the Jedi. They will pay. They will pay with their lives!"
Just outside the room in the hallway three black-cloaked figures waited patiently. Finally the shorter figure sensed the long-anticipated, final incremental shift in the Force.
"It is done," Darth Vengous said coolly to the two tall men standing with her. "Oga Trill is dead. Darth Malus survives."
"Yes, Master," the two men responded in unison.
"Inform General Tarkin that I wish to meet with him. The time has come to move to the second stage of our design."
"Yes, Master," the two men said again.
"Very well, my young apprentices. You are dismissed."
---
In the ever-present commotion and rumbling murmur of noise as the delegates of the Galactic Senate gathered in their respective pods, no one noticed the tall brown-cloaked figure who appeared alone in a small viewing balcony high on the wall of the gigantic bowl of the Senate chamber opposite the Supreme Chancellor's podium. He pulled the billowing fabric around his body and tugged down the cowl fully over his face.
From his perch his eyes picked out two specific pods along the sloping walls. The Senator from Naboo stepped proudly through the open doorway into her pod, receiving a short burst of greetings and even some applause from the nearby delegates. Her handmaiden's face was concealed beneath her cloak's hood, and like the fiercely loyal bodyguard that she was she shadowed her charge only one step off her shoulder. Much farther below near the podium another beautiful woman strode confidently into a waiting pod. Her golden gown shimmered in the chamber's lights and her long brown hair was pulled up into an attractive seashell spiral on the back of her head. Following at a respectful distance, her petite Chief of Staff wore a gray tailored suit and a simple braid that hung down over the front of her jacket.
As the session began, Anakin felt a glimmer of remorse that he could not be at Padmé's side. For the first time in over twenty years she truly was a politician again. Yet he knew this lonely vantage point was the only option. Even had he not worn Jedi robes, his presence with her would have been interpreted by many in the Senate and the galaxy as a whole as nothing less than a public declaration of a political alliance between the new Senator-at-Large and the Jedi Order. While of course that would not be true, the appearance of impropriety could be avoided only by his absence.
With the introductory formalities concluded, Supreme Chancellor Trellem called the next order of business. Along with those of the other seven at-large Senators designated by the Chancellor, Padmé's pod released from the wall and glided forward to hover in mid-air in front of the podium. As everyone had expected, the ceremony was delayed by a thunderous standing ovation from the completely full chamber.
Anakin's gaze found Leia again. She and Sarré had stopped clapping to wipe their eyes. After another moment they gave up on the applause entirely and hugged each other joyously, literally bouncing with happiness. He looked across the chamber and located the Senator from Alderaan. Millius was cheering riotously for Padmé, as Anakin had known he would be. Then he focused on the solemn Supreme Chancellor; a quick scan in the Force revealed dejection and apprehension flowing from him.
When decorum was restored, the Chancellor led the eight new delegates in the oath of office. Anakin's eyes and soul saw only Padmé. Everyone else, even Jenny at her shoulder, seemed to disappear. With a final hopeless sigh he relinquished his control and let tears of joy pour down his cheeks.
---
The usual brightness of early afternoon was muted by a thick fog that shrouded the Jedi Temple plaza and much of its sector of Coruscant. Inside the Council chamber the shadows and gray illumination gave an eerie ambience to the room and the eleven gathered Masters. After a moment of silence to mourn Master Krint, who had yet to be replaced on the Council, the others congratulated Anakin and delivered words of encouragement for Padmé. Then Obi-Wan began the meeting by nodding to Master Offee.
"As you know, I have directed the investigation into the suspicious death of Jarren Organa, the late husband of the Senator from Naboo, six months ago on the third planet of the Gimna system." The golden-skinned Mirialan woman adjusted her deep blue robes, leaned forward in her seat, and braced her elbows on her knees. "After recent developments I am able to present our preliminary conclusion. We now are confident that his death was an assassination."
Anakin sighed. "I wish this were not true. And yet from the beginning we all have believed that this is what we would find, especially once we determined the Sith might be involved."
"For months we were not able to locate any useful information," Master Offee continued after a solemn nod. "Within the last several days, however, one of our teams finally gained access to a facility that had been of interest to us for some time. The facility was the site of a skirmish between local militias and Vyhrragian agents and saboteurs only two days before the killing. Careful analysis of the battle scene revealed indisputable evidence that four enemy combatants wielded lightsabers."
Master Secura leaned forward too. "Four? Are you certain?"
"Yes, Aayla, we are certain," Master Offee confirmed calmly. "Much of the evidence is the deflection pattern of blaster fire. All contingencies were considered, such as energy shields and electromagnetic disruptors, but lightsabers were the only source consistent with all the evidence. In addition, the enemy agents fled in such haste that they apparently did not have time to conceal several examples of physical damage to the facility from lightsabers."
"But the assassination itself was by blaster fire," Master Bthitip pointed out.
"True. Yet for some time we have suspected that the Sith were involved in the death. Nevertheless, there were several aspects of the scene of the assassination that we could not understand – even based on the presence of two Sith Lords. The evidence simply did not make sense. But with the presence of four Sith, all of our prior findings suddenly became coherent and clear. Hence our conclusion."
Without speaking it aloud, all the Masters pondered the question of motive. Knowing that the Sith had directed the killing of Leia's husband was important information – but why they would have targeted him, rather than Leia or Anakin, was not at all clear.
"That is most understandable, Barriss, and I agree fully with your assessment," Master Bthitip nodded. "Until the last few days we simply had no basis to consider the possibility that the Rule of Two might no longer be in place. And now with your report I am willing to state that I believe we have definitive confirmation of its abrogation. We must combine this with what Anakin has presented from Xixus and the Battle of the Trade Spine, and the fact that the disturbance of the dark side in the Force only has continued to grow in recent days. There can be little doubt that the Sith's numbers have become considerably larger than at any time in the last thousand years."
"It is profoundly unsettling," Master Secura frowned. "It means we do not know how many enemies we face. And given the difficulty we have in detecting the Sith in the Force, we cannot even be sure we will be able to determine when final victory has been achieved."
"We will know," Anakin smiled, "because it will be different than last time. We all had thought the Force was in balance. But it was not. It follows that when the Force truly is in balance, it will be a novel sensation. And that is how we will know."
"Anakin is right," Master Offee said confidently. "I have no doubt our ultimate triumph will be apparent in the Force. And yet we need not wait for that eventuality. We should be aggressive in seeking to determine how many Sith there are."
"I agree," Obi-Wan declared. "We are in agreement, I believe, that Argis' so-called Crusaders of Justice are Sith Lords. We can request that the Special Operations Division and the Intelligence Service begin immediately with information analysis and covert operations to determine the number of individual Crusaders. That will at least tell us the minimum number."
"An excellent plan, Obi-Wan," Master Bthitip concurred. "I propose that we provide several senior Padawans to assist in those endeavors where possible."
"Second," said Master Secura quickly.
"Done," Obi-Wan decreed, seeing agreement from the other Council members.
In the brief pause in the discussion, Master Offee spoke up again. "Anakin, our report about your son-in-law's death is only in preliminary form. How should we inform your daughter? Although of course there rarely are any leaks to the Holonet from the Temple, I would be most chagrined to inadvertently increase the pain of the news for her should this be one of them." The other Masters nodded solemnly.
"Thank you, Barriss. Your sensitivity to my family's suffering, especially those who are not Jedi, has been most appreciated by all of us." Anakin took a deep breath. "Unless there is objection, I will tell her. She has a busy itinerary the next few days, but no doubt there will be a quiet moment within the week when I can speak with her." They all nodded.
"How is she managing her grief, Anakin?" Master Secura asked quietly.
"Some days are better than others," he admitted calmly. "Odd as it may seem, her recent experiences have reinvigorated her spirit. And seemingly in a permanent way."
Although none of the other members of the Council had personal experience with families of their own, between the younglings and the process of training and raising a Padawan in the odd social climate that was the Temple, they understood enough to celebrate Leia's recovery and appreciate her newfound levity.
Obi-Wan decided that the meeting seemed to be drawing to its natural conclusion. "I have begun to draft our report to the Senate," he explained. "The section on the Xixus mission is nearly finished. It benefits from the fact that I procured the slain Sith's lightsaber before we departed – such physical proof is much more difficult to question. The Battle of the Trade Spine will take some careful analysis to establish our points, because we are asking the Senators to draw more inferences from the flow of the battle. And once Barriss' missive is finished I will of course include much of it within our full report as well."
"I am the second reader on the report," Anakin confirmed. "Once I've completed my review, I will be sure to circulate it to the rest of you for comments. This one is significant enough that we all should sign off on it."
Obi-Wan nodded. "Is there any other business?" The others shook their heads. "Then the meeting is adjourned. See you all this evening for the brief scheduled audience. May the Force be with you."
---
Luke and Mara arranged the timing of their return to the Jedi Temple to exploit the relative anonymity of the bustle of the dinner hour. The spacious hallways were mostly empty while they walked to the cafeteria, the hoods of their brown cloaks drawn up over their heads. Neither of them was in the mood to talk to casual acquaintances yet. When they entered the wide room with its high arching ceiling, they melted into the crowd and made their way to the spot they and their closest friends always shared.
As they had expected, at the usual small round table a group of five was seated with two empty chairs. The young Jedi halted their idle banter and looked up curiously at the two cloaked figures who stopped beside them. Simultaneously the pair lowered their hoods.
"Luke! Mara! You're back!" The words burst out in excitement as the quintet sprang to their feet. Hugs and happy greetings were exchanged for several minutes.
Finally Gars Von Krindlemeier, a tall, dashing man from Chandrilla, shook his head. "We've been so inconsiderate," he apologized. "I didn't even ask if we should get you something to eat."
"Don't worry about it," Luke insisted. "We ate earlier back at my parents' place."
The five friends shared a quick glance. Something had changed. Mara had not immediately snapped a witty retort at Luke. And Luke had said "we" instead of "I," which he always had done in the past even on those occasions when Mara had accompanied him.
It was bizarre.
As the seven of them took seats at the table, Ralli Gialla passed by her chair and lowered herself into Luke's lap. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and snuggled her face against his neck.
"I missed you," Ralli whispered in his ear.
"Yeah," he answered.
Ignoring the couple, the others began to pepper Mara with questions about the mission on Gimna 3, the rescue on Xixus, and the Battle of the Trade Spine. Politely she answered them one by one, yet her mind was utterly distracted.
She was jealous. Was she? Yes, it definitely was there. Pondering the surprising emotion, Mara assumed she was envious of Luke – of the overt manifestations of a physical and emotional relationship he had that she did not. As soon as she tried to brush the thought aside, however, a memory from only yesterday evening blasted to the fore in her mind. Without missing a beat in her conversation with her friends, she let it play out again.
She was walking through the Skywalker residence when she passed Luke's bedroom and heard an emotional conversation inside. Unable to stop herself, she locked down her Force presence and eavesdropped outside the closed door.
"We can't do this, Luke," Jenny was saying.
"Why not?" he demanded passionately. "I thought you said you loved me!"
"Luke, be reasonable," she pleaded. "Of course I love you. I helped raise you. You're like my little brother. That's the way I love you."
"That's not true," he insisted. "I can sense more in you, and your actions speak for themselves. What, are you asking me to forget what you did? I'm supposed to say it was a kiss you should never have given me and pretend it never happened?"
"We can't be together, Luke," she tried again, her voice becoming increasingly filled with agony. "Regardless of the way we feel about each other."
"I knew it! You do feel something!"
"It doesn't matter what I feel," she persisted, clearly through tears. "We can't do this. I know it's wrong. You know it's wrong. And I don't even want to think about what your parents would do. Actually I already know – they'd kill me." She choked down a sob. "Luke, I'm going to walk out of your room and we're both going to move on with our lives and never make this mistake again. There cannot be anything between us. It's just not possible."
"Anything's possible, Jenny, listen to me…"
"No! You listen!" she almost shouted. "I'm sorry if I've hurt you, Luke. I truly am. But you have to accept my decision. If you care about me, you will."
Luke was silent for a long time. "Maybe in time I'll accept it. But right now I'm… I'm… I'm really angry and let's leave it at that. I hope you're right, and everything will be back to normal eventually, but right now I…" He blew out a deep sigh. "You should go."
"Okay," she sniffled.
Counting on Luke's heartache to mask his perceptions, Mara used a burst of Force-assisted Jedi speed to ensure she was gone by the time Jenny emerged from the room seconds later.
Mara's eyes focused again on Luke and Ralli across the table. Still conversing with their friends, she realized she wasn't jealous of Luke after all. She was jealous of Ralli. She wanted to be the one in Luke's lap, holding him close and having a secret whispered dialogue.
Mara yanked her eyes away from them and focused on the smooth surface of the table. She had not anticipated these feelings. Not in the slightest. It was so strange. So confusing. So impossible. She couldn't have feelings for Luke. Of all the men in the Temple, not him. But the jealousy hadn't gone away, and it was poking her incessantly in the back of her mind.
With great effort Mara raised her eyes and looked at Luke and Ralli again. When she did, all she felt was a nearly overpowering desire to reach over the trays of food and grab Ralli by the throat and fling her away from him.
The astonishing sensation left her stunned. So much so that she stopped speaking in mid-sentence.
Fortunately her companions were distracted when a vicious pulse of dark emotions suddenly burst from Ralli. Instantly they all sensed it, and the other five looked to embracing pair.
Ralli sprang to her feet and slapped Luke across the face. Twice. Hard. "Just like that… You're just walking away… After everything you said…" Her voice sputtered in anguish but her face revealed only anger and betrayal. "And you kissed… You didn't care enough to… I can't believe you, Luke. I thought you were a better man than this." She spun on her heel and stormed away.
Gars spoke for the others. "We'll go talk to her. I'm sure she's just surprised and upset. She certainly knew better than to actually let herself develop real… Well, she'll be fine soon." With nods all around the table the four friends rose and jogged after Ralli.
That left Mara and Luke sitting at the table opposite each other. Their eyes met.
She concentrated as hard as she could to keep her newfound emotions from being revealed in her Force presence. Just like that Ralli was out of the picture, and Luke's transitory infatuation with Jenny would pass quickly enough on its own. Mara didn't know what to think.
Luke stared deeply into her eyes but didn't say anything. His blue eyes were dulled and watery; they were filled with regret and anxiety and… understanding. Could it really be understanding? Or was she seeing what she wanted to, instead of what really was there?
Whichever it was, Mara knew that despite her best efforts he had perceived enough of her feelings to discover that she was pleased about Ralli's departure not because she wanted him to suffer but because maybe – or even something stronger than maybe – she wanted to be the one to replace her.
Only a month ago that would have seemed ludicrous in the extreme to either of them.
Not anymore.
"Mara," he sighed, "it's been a long few weeks. I've learned a lot about myself, and not all of it I like. I need… some time before… What I mean is… You're my best friend. And that's…" His voice trailed off, but he released all the controls on his feelings and exposed them to her in the Force.
She absorbed exactly what he meant. It was something. A start. A small start. The first tentative, awkward step on a much longer journey. And right now, it was all either of them was ready for.
She smiled warmly. "Of course, Luke."
---
The two tall Jedi stood in the center of the Council chamber, surrounded by the eleven Masters seated in a circle of chairs around the windowed walls. The warm light of sunset filled the room and gave a healthy glow to the faces of the individuals inside.
On the right the bald, elderly man was an obelisk of confidence and determination. A former member of the Council, he clasped his hands politely on his abdomen and barely seemed to move, even for breathing.
On the left the young woman's face was outwardly calm, but her unsettled emotions were apparent to everyone present. Her hands hung aimlessly at her sides with fingers twitching nervously, and almost imperceptibly she continually shifted her weight, searching in vain for a comfortable posture.
Finally the chairman of the Council broke the silence. "An understanding has been reached, Master Windu?"
"Yes, Master Kenobi," Mace confirmed definitively.
"Very good," Obi-Wan nodded. "Danaé, we would like to hear you explain the arrangement in your own words."
"Yes, Master Kenobi," Danaé bowed politely. "Master Windu has agreed to train me. He will not yet, however, formally become my Master." For a brief moment her eyes fell to the floor, then rose again. "In exchange, I have agreed to abide by the Order's ancient rule of decision. If there is no word of Master Trill within a year and a day of his disappearance, then he will be presumed dead." She met Obi-Wan's eyes firmly. "Upon the passage of that threshold, Master Windu will take me as his Padawan learner. I will complete my training with him, even in the unlikely event that Master Trill should later reappear."
"And what will be the focus of your work with Master Windu?" Obi-Wan inquired.
"To begin, the lightsaber," she stated calmly. Then she took a deep breath. "And equally my feelings over the loss of Master Trill. Together we will work on confronting and then surpassing my grief."
"Very good," Obi-Wan smiled. "And you, Master Windu? Have you anything to add?"
"I believe this arrangement is the best solution for Danaé at this time," Mace explained. "I have great confidence in her. She will not long need my tutelage. Soon she will be ready for the Trials." Everyone in the room except Danaé knew Mace well enough to catch the implication in the inflections of his concluding sentence: that she might be ready before her brother.
"Very well, Master Windu. You have served the Order long and well, and have enjoyed a well-deserved retirement. Your devotion to our values is a testament to your spirit and honors us all. For you now to accept this obligation willingly and unhesitatingly is above and beyond any duty that you reasonably owe. The Council expresses its profound gratitude for this commitment." Obi-Wan quickly glanced around the circle to meet the eyes of his ten colleagues, lingering an extra moment in a wordless understanding with Anakin. "The Council approves your request. Danaé, effectively immediately you are assigned exclusively to Master Windu for your training."
"Thank you, Master Kenobi," Danaé bowed politely again.
Seated just outside her peripheral vision at her left shoulder, her father spoke the final words of her audience before the Council.
"May the Force be with you."
---
"I've been meaning to tell you something," Han said somewhat reluctantly.
Leia was standing at the broad window to her Senate office, watching the flow of airspeeder traffic between the Senate building and the amazing late evening skylines of Coruscant beyond. She turned around to face the man standing on the other side of her desk. When she did, he clasped his hands behind his back and straightened his posture, probably hoping to conceal his obvious nervousness. "What's that?"
"I'm not very good at this, you see," he explained. "I wanted to apologize. For the way I've treated you. I was rude and disrespectful and probably offensive." He took a deep breath. "No one told me you were a widow. That you were still observing the customary period of mourning of your homeworld. I didn't know."
Leia laughed happily and stepped out around the desk to stand a few paces away from him. "Listen to what I am about to tell you, Han. Because it's the truth." She made sure she had his full attention. "Yes, I'm a widow. Yes, I suppose I technically was in a period of mourning. But I'm still the same person I was before." She shook her head a little. "Not that you would know what I'm usually like, of course. But I can hold my own with anyone, even someone like you. You'll just have to trust me."
"I trust you," Han nodded.
"Everyone in my family has been treating me like I'm fragile. Like any little complaint or tease is going to shatter me into a million pieces or send me over the edge into some hysterical fit of crying. I'm a stronger person than that. I always have been." She was frowning in frustration. "And I'm sick and tired of it. I want to be treated normally. I don't want special handling. I want to be Leia, not some pampered little girl."
"I understand, I think," he said quietly, letting his hands fall to his sides.
"I guess what I'm saying is that meeting you was very refreshing. You didn't know who I was, or anything about me, or that my family would have wanted you to be polite and considerate to me. You were yourself. You let me see who you really are. And you have no idea how much that meant to me, and still does."
"You're welcome," Han replied. Then he grinned lopsidedly. "Does this mean I've seen the real you too? The Leia I rescued and who flew with me in battle?"
She smiled broadly. "That's the most I've felt like myself in a long time."
He stood there silently, frozen in place. Leia had the distinct impression he was struggling mightily over whether he could bring himself to say what was on his mind. From his smile she thought maybe this time with her had made him feel more alive – more like himself – than he had felt in a long time either. After a long silence he spoke. "Well, Princess, it's been a pleasure. I'm due to head back to the Orn Free Taa tomorrow."
Leia took two steps forward and lifted her face so she could look him closely in the eyes. As a little girl she used to sit for hours watching leaves spinning down whirlpools in the gentle streams on Naboo. Enchanted by Han's deep brown eyes, she felt as if she were being pulled into them the same dizzying way. Her heart was pounding and she knew her face was flushing. She had spent the seemingly endless days and nights of her captivity grieving for Jarren without ever imagining she could react this way to another man so soon. And yet…
"Princess?"
She did what her heart told her to do. "I have a question for you, Han."
"A question? Sure."
"Would you be interested in a three-month assignment on Coruscant?"
"Um, the Admirals Council and I haven't exactly seen eye to eye on a lot of things and…"
"Oh, don't worry, it's not that," she laughed as she interrupted him. "At the Senate. The Navy Oversight subcommittee begins hearings next week on assorted personnel and procurement issues. We need two or three officers detailed full time to the staff to assist the subcommittee with all of the specifics that are involved in the investigations and reports. As chair the duty falls on me to identify and hire appropriate officers. And we expect the hearings to last about three months."
"Well, that really doesn't sound like anything I'd usually put in for," he chuckled, his mischievous smile revealing that he understood exactly what she was suggesting, "but I suppose if I get this assignment, I'd be working with your subcommittee all the time?"
"With the subcommittee, yes. Mostly with me, really."
"You can arrange a Coruscant post for Chewie too? You can make this happen?"
"You'd be surprised the things I can make happen," she winked. "So, would you be interested?"
"Is that officially an offer?"
"Yes."
"I accept."
"Done." She paused, still captivated by his eyes. "I look forward to working with you, Captain," she declared in highly exaggerated mock formality.
"I am at your disposal, Senator," he bowed theatrically, tucking his left hand behind his back and doffing his cap into an elaborate, rolling flourish with his right.
Then they stood in silence, simply staring at each other.
---
Bryon carried two empty goblets in each hand and joined Sarré in the kitchen of the Skywalker residence, where she was loading the silverware and dishes into the cleaner unit. As he set them down on the counter next to her pile, he shook his head and smiled. Leia had stayed behind alone at the office, insisting without explanation that her only remaining business for the day she wished to handle herself. Luke, Danaé, and Mara had returned to the Jedi Temple earlier in the day, Jenny had gone home to her apartment, and the droids were deactivated to recharge their fuel cells. The quiet dinner with his parents – just the four of them – had been relaxing and perfectly enjoyable. It was an experience he could get used to. "I can't believe how easy that was."
She laughed lightly. "For someone who's so smart, sometimes you really are stupid, Bryon."
"That's not very nice," he frowned.
"Oh, lighten up," she laughed again while continuing to load the cleaner. "I know you've always been nervous around your parents with me. But after we talked to them on your Dad's ship, and they didn't care when Leia sent us away the first night we were back, how can you still have anything to be concerned about?"
"You're right, of course," he chuckled. "Like you always are. Old habits die hard, I guess."
"Okay. I'll let it go, just this once." She finished her task, closed the unit, and started it running. She looked around quizzically. "Where did your parents go?"
Bryon shrugged. "Does it really matter?"
"No," Sarré smiled. "No, it doesn't." She stepped over and took his hand. "You know, I really hope we're that happy when we've been married twenty-three years."
"Me too," he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. They walked slowly to the residence's large salon and reclined together on one of the long plush sofas facing the large window. For a while they simply reveled in the warmth of their embrace and watched the soft colors of the setting sun create brilliant patterns on the cityscape.
"We're alone," he finally said quietly, "and I'm happy just to lie here with you in my arms."
"It's nice," she whispered. "It's very nice." She adjusted her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled his neck. "Did you mean what you told them on the ship?"
"Huh? Which part?" His hands slipped beneath her white silken shirt and caressed her bare back.
"That we'll probably get married soon." The fingers of one hand began playing with the short hair on the back of his head while the other crawled under his shirt and up his chest.
"Definitely. I definitely meant it." He turned his face and kissed her forehead again. "Unless you've changed your mind, I mean," he teased.
"No. Since we made that decision last year, there hasn't been a single second that I've had any regrets about it." She leaned up to kiss him gently on the lips. "What did you mean by soon?"
"I don't know. Are you free tomorrow?"
She giggled happily. "Bryon, I'm serious!"
"Well, between the two of us we certainly can afford to get our own place and live comfortably. But what troubles me, I think, is that you're still settling into your job with Leia, and I'm one or two promotions away from having any real control over my assignments."
"Yeah."
"And there's a baby to think about too. I worry our lives are too unpredictable right now. I don't know, maybe in a year? Maybe by then we'll be in a position to have a more stable life together?"
"I guess."
"What's wrong? What's bothering you?"
"There's never going to be a perfect time, that's all. I mean, there will always be some reason to wait. Our lives are busy. That's just how it is." She kissed the side of his face tenderly. "Look at your parents. They're two of the busiest people in the galaxy, and yet their marriage is as strong now as it ever was."
"That's true. Although to be fair they had Jenny to help them when we were young," he winked. "But right now we can't even really decide on a date. There's no guarantee I wouldn't be away somewhere on a mission when the day came. I suppose we could pick a general timeframe, but even that might be difficult to do."
"No, it's okay. The best we can do for now is say that we'll get married soon. When the time feels right and everyone's available, we'll just have to make it happen really quickly."
"You think that's feasible?"
She laughed. "Between me and Leia, and your Mom and my Mom? We could set it up in an afternoon!"
He chuckled in agreement. "That would be quite a combination! I think I'd just stay out of the way and let you ladies go to work."
"I think that's very wise of you, Bryon."
He squeezed her tightly. "I suppose you have to head home, huh?"
"Nope," she smiled happily.
"No?"
"When I called Mom from the office before I left to tell her I was coming here for dinner, she told me point blank that it was okay if I wanted to stay the night."
He simply shook his head in disbelief. "Sometimes it really amazes me the relationship you have with her. I would die if my Mom or Dad ever said something like that to me."
She looked questioningly into his eyes. "They won't mind if I stay with you, will they?"
"I think you were right earlier," he smiled. "They've done all they can to support us and make us feel comfortable." Then he laughed. "If they had any objections, Dad would have offered to fly you home in his speeder or something like that. As long as we're… discrete about it, I doubt they'll say anything."
"You're probably right," she sighed contentedly. "So, are you ready to go to bed?"
He looked outside and realized night had fallen. "I'm not really tired," he said in all seriousness.
She pulled away from his embrace entirely and threw up her hands in frustration. "Again, so smart and yet so stupid. Do I actually have to spell it out for you?"
"Oh, right. Yeah, okay," he apologized self-deprecatingly. "Sure, I'm ready." He rose to his feet swiftly, scooping her up in his arms as he did. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips. He grasped her firmly by the waist and began to carry her toward the door with long strides.
"Very good," she winked. "You're catching on."
"Well, I am a slow learner."
---
Anakin's peaceful doze was broken by the anticipatory signal in the Force moments before Padmé shifted in his arms toward the far away edge of their enormous bed. After all these years she still kept trying – but she didn't stand a chance.
"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded in a whisper, locking her into his inescapable embrace.
With a giggle she rolled over to face him. "I thought I might go up and get some air."
"What makes you think you're free to go? Maybe I'm not finished with you yet."
"If you know what's good for you, you are."
He kissed her forehead. "You're free to go."
"Thanks." She kissed his lips tenderly.
"Did you want to be alone?" he asked with a truly pathetic plaintive look in his eyes.
"No," she smiled. "I was going to let you sleep if you wanted to. But you're welcome to join me."
After they pulled on their robes they walked to the narrow spiral staircase tucked into the corner of the room just past the portal to Padmé's gargantuan walk-in closet. They emerged onto the small balcony that was the very top of the towering skyscraper. Only a few feet in diameter, it provided a stunning panorama of the capital city-planet.
Padmé turned a slight angle and walked right up to the railing. Anakin pressed his body against her back, wrapped his arms around her waist, and gently rested his chin on the top of her head. She smothered his arms with hers and let out a deep sigh.
For a few minutes they stood there silently, gazing at the amazing lights of the multitude of buildings and the flowing lines of airspeeder traffic that sparkled and shone in the nighttime cityscape. Near the edge of visible horizon on the left was the enormous dome of the Galactic Senate, as always illuminated fully like some kind of political beacon. At a similar distance on the right was a noticeable gap in the pattern of lights and soaring structures. Although it was not visible, the Jedi Temple's presence was obvious.
Even though the audio-management devices on the balcony not only dampened the buzzing noise of the city but also garbled all conversations to prevent any eavesdropping, she kept her voice hushed. "What's going to happen now, Ani?"
"I'm not sure, angel," he said softly. "The future is always in motion."
"There's going to be a war, isn't there?"
"Yes, I think there will be. One we probably could win easily if the Senate were willing to take decisive action now."
"Which it won't. That will make everything worse."
He squeezed her just a little bit tighter. "I'm afraid so."
"And the Sith?"
"The dark side is growing in strength. It clouds our vision in the Force. The Jedi Council has no real way to take this fight to them." He took a deep breath. "We have to wait for the enemy to make the next move."
"You still believe in the prophecy, right? Even though they came back?"
"The prophecy isn't specific. It doesn't identify me by name. It doesn't say that killing Sidious was my only destiny. It only foretells that the Chosen One will bring balance to the Force." He tenderly rubbed her robed abdomen with his hands. "I'll fulfill the prophecy once and for all this time. I promise."
She pressed herself against him more. For a brief moment her right hand lifted up to clutch the faded japoor snippet pendant hanging from a thin chain around her neck. Ordinarily she wore it only as a soothing charm when she and Anakin were apart. Earlier in the evening she had told him about her enigmatic compulsion to wear the old, lovingly carved good-luck talisman tonight even though they were together. "They're going to try to kill you, aren't they?"
"I assume so. I'd certainly try to kill me if I were them."
She swallowed hard and held back her tears. "You can't die. I need you."
"Same for me, angel. I'm not sure how I would live without you. I'm not sure I could."
The newly inaugurated Senator-at-Large smiled playfully and changed the mood. "Well, then we'll both just have to stay alive, won't we?"
"Yes. Yes, we will." The tranquil Jedi Master kissed the top of her head. "And we've managed that pretty well so far," he agreed teasingly.
"That's true," she nodded gently underneath his chin. Then she squeezed his arms tightly. "I'm not foolish to be hopeful for the future, am I, Ani?"
"No, angel," he reassured her. His eyes gazed into the night at some indefinite point far in the distance. "There is always reason to hope. Even in the midst of the greatest darkness."
THE END
Coming Soon:
Four "Missing Scenes" from A Destiny Renewed with Author's Commentary.
Followed by the sequel: EPISODE V: HOPE AND DARKNESS