Skywalker's Legacy, page 45
Chapter Nine
From the folds of his robe, Luke withdrew the lightsaber that had remained unused for most of Brenna's lifetime, and approached the ruins of his homestead cautiously. He flattened himself against the wall next to the door of the living area, took a quick peek inside. Nothing. He saw nothing, felt nothing. He went to the sleeping quarters next. Except for the charred remains of furniture and bedding, Brenna's room was empty, his own likewise. He started for the kitchen, with the intention of doing a systematic search of the rest of the premises, when a noise from the garage caught his attention, and he followed the sound to its source.
A quick peek showed him who the intruder was, and with a sigh, he put the lightsaber away, grateful that it was destined to go one more day without being used, but still concerned about his missing daughter. Then he stepped into the garage.
"Hello, Han," he said to the man picking his way around the rubble.
The intruder whirled, his hand moving to his blaster. He was fast---not quite as fast as he used to be, but he could still outdraw many a younger man. Fortunately, Han's wits were also still intact, and he shoved the blaster back into his holster without firing.
"Luke!" he said. Then he let out a breath of relief. "What the Hell happened here? And where are the kids?"
"I was hoping," Luke said dryly, "that you were someone who could tell me."
Han's expression changed from relief to worry again. "You mean you don't know?"
"It's okay, Han. I'd know if Brenna were in trouble."
"That's fine for you, but what about my brood?"
"They got separated. Some sort of explosion on the Falcon. Bomb, possibly. I saw Chewie in Mos Eisley. Poul was hurt, but he'll be okay. Chewbacca's with him now. Rupert is supposed to meet me in Mos Eisley. Lucy was on her way here, but she wasn't here when this happened."
"How do you know?" Han asked.
"No bodies," Luke told him.
Han was silent for a moment, then looked about the ruined garage. "So where the Hell are they?"
"I don't know, remember? Now it's your turn to answer something for me. Where's Leia? Why didn't you bring her with you?"
Han didn't look at him. "Luke...I think she's dead. She...disappeared, along with Corran."
Luke frowned. "I didn't sense anything from her." He closed his eyes for a moment. Then he said, "She's alive."
Han whirled to face him, hope lighting his face.
Luke continued. "But she's not answering me. I don't know why not."
"Corran---?" Han began.
"Corran's dead," Luke told him. "So are all of the others. Tortured. But I don't think Etan Lippa knows about the relationship between Leia and me. That may be the only thing keeping her alive."
Han let out a long breath. Then a sudden thought struck him, and his expression became concerned. "Luke, she wasn't...?"
"No, Han. I'd know if she were tortured. Her disappearance probably fits into the pattern of the other missing senators, not the Jedi Knights. None of the senators really knew any secrets that would have helped Lippa, so whatever his purpose was in kidnapping Leia, torture may not be in his plans."
"Well, that's good, I suppose. You think it has something to do with the New Constitution?"
"That'd be my guess."
Han thought about that for a moment. Then he snapped his fingers as he remembered what he wanted to tell his friend. "Luke, you're not going to believe this, but when I left Coruscant, there was an Imperial Star-Destroyer in orbit over the planet."
Luke stared at him. "A Star-Destroyer? The last one was turned into space-rubble at Deraan Two."
"That's what everyone thought. But I'm telling you what I saw with my own eyes. It jumped into hyperspace just after I saw it."
They both fell silent for a long moment, both wishing the reunion were taking place under better circumstances. Then Han broke the silence again. "Well, what do we do now?"
"We find our kids," Luke said, then began peeling rubble away from what used to be a wall.
Han paled. "I thought you said there were no bodies," he said.
"There aren't," Luke assured him. "But Brenna would have left me a message if she could. The trick is to find it."
Han jerked a thumb towards a pile of debris. "I saw the Artoo unit back there, buried beneath some old fire blankets."
"Blasted?"
"Looked more like it was turned off, to me."
Luke smiled. "I think I may be able to find where the kids went, after all..."
As Rupert passed through the southern sector of the city, the breeze carried the smells of a nearby meat vendor to him. He felt the familiar mouth-watering sensations, the hunger which seemed to come straight from his soul, even though he had just eaten before he left the ship. He felt as if he were starving, like a homeless animal living off scraps from the street.
He forced himself not to hurry, not to stop.
A woman, or maybe it was a girl---it was hard to see through the cosmetics---beckoned to him from an open doorway. Again, he felt mixed desires. He didn't really think she was his type whatever that was but the urge pressed in around him. On its heels was the familiar fear. Fear of being consumed, of not being able to break loose from the passions.
Again he passed by, neither slowly nor quickly.
It helped to have a goal to think about, a purpose for being on the streets. The stirrings now were not as strong as they sometimes were, like the times when his mother had tried to take the family to planets less developed than Coruscant for vacations, what Rupert called the "green" planets. Those were the worst. But even Coruscant had its bad moments. There were times when he felt himself barely under control, and he had to stay in control. Otherwise, it would be like letting a hungry kaleem run loose in a field of grazing muzzi.
Those who noticed Rupert as he passed saw only a calm, purposeful young man. But Rupert himself felt like a walking time-bomb. It was only a matter of time before he cracked. He knew it. He hadn't told his parents because he didn't want them to worry. There would only be more doctors, more testing, more drugs that he didn't want. When Corran had come, Rupert had thought there might be hope. Corran had believed him, had talked to him, helped him through one of his attacks. Corran had taught him how to meditate, had given him a mantra, of sorts, that helped lessen the closing in, the pressure from outside. If it hadn't been for Corran , Rupert wouldn't have been able to make this walk into Mos Eisley. But Corran was gone now. Rupert didn't know how he knew, but he knew. He hadn't felt Corran's death the way Luke had, but he knew Corran was gone nonetheless.
There were some things he needed to pick up in Mos Eisley, supplies for the ship, before going to the cantina to see if Ben Owens was there yet. Nothing major, nothing really traceable, just a lot of nuts and bolts and sealant. He could cannibalize pieces of bulkhead from the cargo holds, and the parts he needed to fix the stabilizer were common enough. What he needed most was time, and a little help from Chewbacca with lifting the heavy bulkhead sections, once he had cut them out. He hoped Poul was all right. He hoped Lucy had made it to the Owens' farm without incident. He focused on those hopes, which he recognized as his own, as Corran had tried to teach him to do.
It helped, a little. The smells of the meat, the feeling of hunger, the animal lust faded a little. They became bearable.
He found the supplies he needed, paid for them in cash, and made his way to the cantina. There was an empty table just inside the shadows, and he squeezed his way past a crew from a freightor to get to it. The freightors were in need of a bath, and their odor carried to Rupert at the table. He was unusually sensitive to odors. Some he liked, like his mother's smell mixed with the perfume which she was careful not to wear too much of, or the smell of his father after a hard game of skeetball. Those were familiar, comfortable odors. He liked Poul's smell, too, and Lucy's although Lucy was likely to change perfumes as frequently as she changed dress, and he wished she would be a little more stingy in the amount of scent she wore but the smell that was distinctly her somehow always managed to come through. The freightors, on the other hand, had a sour, rancid odor about them, and were long overdue for a bath and a change of clothes.
Rupert ignored them as best he could, and ordered a glass of water from the bartender who came to take his order and who smelled nearly as bad as the freightors. Since on Tatooine water actually cost the same as the hard drinks, the bartender didn't balk. Rupert gave him a coin to pay for it, and the humanoid who had brought him his glass of water left him alone.
Rupert carried his glass to a small table towards the rear of the cantina. One of the customers began staring at him. Rupert followed the gaze to his lapels, which bore only one insignia. Rupert turned away and removed the odd insignia that he still wore. No insignia attracted less attention than one insignia, and he didn't want to attract attention. If he needed to show it, he could always pull it out of his pocket. Then he settled down to wait.