Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 30

By KnightMara

Disclaimer: Do I really have to give it again?

A/N: Well, folks, there's only this chapter left and an epilogue. Thanks for sticking around with this story for so long . . . thanks for the reviews and the feedback. I'm not much of an AU enthusiast (unless it's a very well-written AU, which I've seen here and there), and I don't write AU, so that should tell you something . . . dun dun dun!

Vilya0: I'm glad you think I've kept Luke in character. I try, really, I do. As far as your questions regarding Laire, both he and Narra both hold the rank of Commander, though Laire is the XO on board the cruiser and in charge of the mission while Narra is in charge of the newly formed Renegade Squadron. Luke is subordinate to both in military rank. (BTW, Narra is not my character—he's a minor player in the time period between ANH and ESB, but he's important in the history of Rogue Squadron. Laire I made up.)

Bjrn: Dark and ominous indeed. And I accept your aversion to constructive criticism. Even I sometimes just want to say "I like this," or "I don't like this," and be done with it. It's okay in my book.

Pip: Thanks. Genna is my first major OC, so I'm glad that she fits in and complements Luke's character. My biggest fear when I started this story was that she would fall into the "Mary Sue" category of OCs. I worked extra hard to prevent that from happening.

Neo-Paladin: I'm glad you popped back in to review. Thanks!

Deja: Sadly, there's not much left. . . almost done now. I hope I don't disappoint with my ending.

Near the end, I "borrowed" a line from the ESB radio-drama. So, I'll add to my disclaimer that Brian Daley owns that line. (A gold star for those who recognize it.)

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"You can't be serious!" Narra was pacing back and forth furiously in the General's office. He couldn't believe they were forcing this on him. Rieekan and Fen both sat watching him, their expressions clearly conveying their strictly businesslike attitudes.

Rieekan spoke first. "She's too great a risk in this capacity. Imperials may try to contact her again, and if that is the case, her connection to Skywalker could be disastrous."

"We need the potential Jedi among us, Narra," Fen added. "With the Force on our side, we can win this war. Cage represents a threat to our hope."

"Aren't you being a little over-dramatic?" Narra shot back. "After all, look at what happened! Cage neutralized the infiltrators, and nearly gave her life doing so! And now you see her as a threat?"

"You make a valid point," Rieekan nodded. "She did nearly lose her life trying to save Skywalker's. And that is precisely why we need to move her away from the Rogues. She, too, is at risk through her contact with him."

"I can transfer her back to the Renegades," Narra suggested, a hint of desperation in his voice.

Fen shook his head. "Narra, you know our fighter squadrons work side by side in battle. Contact would still exist."

Narra was fuming. "Would you have me give up one of my best pilots?"

"For the sake of another whose record is astonishing and who possesses Force-enhanced skills?" Rieekan argued. "Yes. We need Skywalker, I fear more so than Cage."

"Cage has talents best employed elsewhere," Fen supplemented.

Narra held his gaze a moment, startled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she's alive today because she had the sense to break into a secured area, steal one of our most advanced data recording devices, and attempt to record a conversation with a suspected spy while protecting the life of one of our finest pilots," Fen explained. "All without the aid of any Alliance officials."

"What are you saying?" Narra demanded.

"We're saying," answered Rieekan, "that Cage is a highly skilled pilot, as befits her training in the Imperial Academy. However, given specialized training to enhance the aptitude witnessed during the Laire incident, she could become a highly skilled intelligence agent."

"What are you talking about?" Narra argued. "The whole thing was botched!"

"And Skywalker has admitted that he was mostly to blame," Rieekan countered. "And consider the fact that Cage is entirely untrained. What she accomplished without prior experience or even time to really sit down and plan is remarkable. Trained, she could be formidable."

Narra stared at the faces of the two generals, knowing he was not going to win this argument. Defeated, he sank into a chair and asked, "What is your plan?"

"We're moving her out immediately," Fen replied. "Alliance intelligence has a secret base of operations that has been hidden for years. There, she will receive the training she requires and will be put to use."

"But isn't it too soon? She only just regained consciousness," Narra tried to reason.

"And you are the only person aware of this as far as we know," Fen stated. "Which is why you are privy to this information. Otherwise you'd be hearing from us what you will tell the members of Rogue Squadron, Renegade Squadron, and Commander Skywalker--that Cage succumbed to her injuries and passed away this morning."

Narra stared at them in disbelief. They couldn't mean it.

"No one is to know that she's alive or where she's gone," Fen continued, ignoring the look of shock on Narra's face. "Which is why, for all anyone is to know, Genna Cage does not exist."

"But Skywalker . . . he's grown very close to her," Narra stammered.

Rieekan looked at him grimly. "I'm sorry. He can't know that she's alive." He paused with a sigh. "He's suffered greater losses before this. He'll come through it."

Feeling cold and sickened, Narra could only stare at the two Generals in front of him, dreading the duty before him.

--

It was a weary Luke Skywalker who climbed out of his X-wing two days later. The experience of working with Han and the Princess on this mission had reinforced what he already believed to be true: Hoth was a Force-forsaken ice cube. Yet, the Alliance had already come to the decision that no one would think to look for them there, and Luke grudgingly had to agree. At the moment, however, he had more pressing matters on his mind.

He pulled off his flight helmet and tucked it under his arm as he made his way out of the hangar. As he walked, he caught sight of Narra coming to meet him. A greeting froze on his lips as he noted the expression on the man's face. It drew him up short and caused his stomach to do a sickening roll. With a white-knuckled grip on his helmet, he forced his feet to cross the distance between himself and his commanding officer and stared at him, unable to ask the question that been on his mind when he'd first climbed out of his fighter.

Narra, too, seemed unable to speak. Instead he met Luke's gaze with a look of great sorrow and sympathy, one that answered the unspoken question. At length, seeing the understanding in Luke's own eyes, he said, "I'm sorry, Luke."

Luke dug his fingers hard enough into his helmet to cause pain, though he felt nothing. His body trembled slightly; his lips moved, but there was no voice. Suddenly, his legs lost their ability to support him, and he sank to the floor engulfed by a sense of loss. His helmet clattered against the hard ground and rolled out of his numbed fingers unnoticed. Narra crouched beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder and saying words Luke couldn't hear or understand.

Genna was gone.

Not another. Force help him, not another loss! Not another person torn from him too soon!

The sickening feeling in his stomach was making it hard to breathe. He was gasping, his breath coming in sobs. Yet there were no tears. He was from Tatooine. He did not cry.

But he grieved. Then and there, on the deck of the hangar, in front of his commanding officer, he drew his trembling legs to his chest with his numbed arms and gave way to grief he was too exhausted to fight. His body shook as he gasped for breath, his insides on the verge of rebellion. He didn't even notice the approach of two others.

"What happened?" the familiar voice of Leia asked gently.

Narra's reply was soft and filled with sorrow. "Genna's gone."

Hearing those words spoken for the first time was like a physical blow. Luke doubled over, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes as a million thoughts and questions clamored in his brain. Had she known how much he cared? Had she suffered? Had she regained consciousness at all, wondering why he wasn't there? Had she felt abandoned by him? Betrayed by him? Had she hated him for the mess he had made? Had she held him responsible for her death? Guilt overcame him, and a low moan escaped his lips. "It's all my fault."

"No, Luke," Narra hastened to respond. "It's not your fault."

"What happened?" It was Han's voice. Luke hadn't even registered the fact that the former smuggler was there.

Narra continued to look at Luke as he answered. "It was sudden, unexpected. She never regained consciousness. Quick and painless, the medics said. She didn't suffer."

The words registered consciously, but they did nothing to ease the pain or the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. Not now. Not yet. Dimly, Luke felt Leia's arms slip around his shoulders, and he sank into her embrace, tearlessly shaking in her arms. Yet even as he grieved, a part of his mind was steeling itself, resolving to seek vengeance. He'd lost too many, suffered too much.

It was time for the Empire to pay.

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"It's a lousy way to step into someone's shoes, Luke--I know. But you can handle the job. That's why you've got it."

Han's words replayed themselves in Luke's mind as he fastened his thermal gear in preparation for Hoth's frigid terrain. It still seemed so unreal. Just moments ago, he'd been promoted to Commander. Just moments ago he'd learned that the entire Renegade Flight had been lost trying to protect a convoy of supply ships from Derra IV. Just moments ago, he'd stepped into Narra's shoes in the same instant he'd been notified of the man's death.

He was numb, and it wasn't just from the cold. Narra was gone, and now Luke was in command. And he didn't think he was ready, no matter what Han had said.

"You ready, kid?"

Luke glanced at the Corellian smuggler standing in his doorway and replied, "Just about." He was supposed to join Han on a trek out into the ice plains to place sensors along the base perimeter. They would be riding Tauntauns, as the techs had been having difficulty adapting the speeders to Hoth's icy temperatures. He reached for his gloves and was in the process of pulling them on when he noticed that Han was staring at him intently. "What?"

"You okay?" Han asked, his tone unusually serious.

Luke nodded in reassurance. "Yeah. It's just a little hard to take in, ya' know?"

"Sure, kid," Han replied, the same unexpected solemnity in his voice.

Upon hearing Han's reply, Luke chuckled mirthlessly. "I used to wonder about you, how you could seem so hard and uncaring," he said, fastening the seals of his gloves as he spoke. "I didn't understand back then. I didn't realize how much it hurts to care about people. How easy it is to lose someone. I mean, for eighteen years, I never lost anybody. The people in my life were always there, ya' know? But now . . .." His voice trailed off and he took a deep breath. "I've lost more people in the past two years than I ever thought possible. And it doesn't stop hurting. I guess it's easier not to care."

"Don't say that, Luke!" Han said suddenly, his voice surprisingly harsh. "Don't you ever stop caring! It's what makes you special, kid!"

"I thought you said it's what made me soft!" Luke countered.

Han shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, that's before I realized there was some good in caring. Not that I'm about to rush out into one of these blizzards to save someone's life or anything—I'll leave that type of insane heroism to you." He smiled wanly.

Luke tried to return the weak smile, but didn't quite succeed. "I just don't know how much more I can take. I mean, I continually let myself care, and my heart inevitably breaks. I mean . . . this business with Narra, I . . . I don't know. It's made all the hurts from before come back. All the heartbreak." Like Genna, he thought to himself, and a deep pang penetrated the numbness.

Han picked up on Luke's unspoken thought. "Well, you know what they say, kid," He quipped, placing a comforting arm around Luke's shoulder. "Hearts are meant to be broken."

Involuntarily, Luke shivered. "I've heard that one before," he said softly.

Sensing Luke's somber mood, Han added, "Yeah, it ranks right up there with 'It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.' Well, I've loved and lost, and I can't say I'm all that better for it."

"Me neither," Luke whispered, his voice tinged with sadness. In the months since Genna had so cruelly and unexpectedly disappeared from his life, the pain had refused to subside. Only to himself would he admit how much she had meant to him, and how much the loss of her presence had wounded him. He doubted he would ever meet another woman like her, or that he would ever care that much again. He didn't think he'd be able to take it.

Han must have sensed Luke's mood, for he gave the young commander's shoulder a playful punch before saying, "Well then let's forget our loves and losses with a joyful excursion onto the snow-covered plains of Hoth! Frostbite awaits!"

At that, Luke chuckled slightly. "How cheery! Han the Optimist! Of course, don't show Leia this side of you. She just might be swept of her feet!"

"That's the plan, Junior," Han laughed, leading Luke toward the North Entrance where their tauntauns awaited them.

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And segue to The Empire Strikes Back!

A/N: Again please review and let me know what you think. . . there is an epilogue to follow.