By Knight Mara
Well, this is it . . . the final installment. I'm still playing with George Lucas's characters, and own none of them, although I often wish I did.
VilyaO: And here I thought I was the only tauntaun lover! Yabu-yabu (as Toyfair Magazine described the sound they make)! You should check out the ESB radio-drama. Some cool Han/Luke friendship scenes in there. And of course, Mark Hamill, Anthony Daniels, and Billy Dee Williams reprising their film roles is a good enough reason to listen in. (The ROTJ one was not as good because all but Anthony Daniels backed out).
Déjà Vu: Don't we all just want to give Luke hug? The poor guy just goes through one thing after another. Like McCaffey said in A Few Good Men, "And the hits just keep on comin'." You'll just have to read on now, won't you? (hehe, I'm evillll)
Reagan64: Thanks for popping in to review again. As far as your comment goes, remember that all but this epilogue is pre-ESB, untrained Luke. We're so used to seeing him as a Jedi, it's hard to remember that in ESB he still believed the "certain point of view" lie that Obi-wan told him. He's not adept at reading truths yet.
jjonahjameson: I'm sorry I had to bring this to a close, but I'm glad you've enjoyed it. I like Wedge, too, so it's good to know that I've succeeded in writing him. My biggest fear is always getting a character "wrong." (I'm glad you're enjoying my other stuff, too.)
Bjrn: That's why there's an epilogue. You know I wouldn't leave you hanging like that. After all, Genna is my character (yes, Lucas, I own her. . hehehe), so I had to finish her story arc. Hope it meets with your approval.
A/N: It is not necessary to have read Truce at Bakura to understand the epilogue, though it takes place immediately after that book. All that is needed is the knowledge that Luke was wounded (yet again) near the end of the book, which begins the day after the destruction of the Second Death Star, and that Luke had fallen in love with a woman named Gaeriel, who broke his poor wittle heart.
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Epilogue: Alliance Fleet Orbiting the Endor Moon, after the Mission to Bakura…
"I'm telling you I'm fine!"
The Two-Onebee droid looked at his patient skeptically--if it was possible for a droid to look skeptical--before turning back to his data pad. "Sir, you were instructed to rest on your own or be sedated and immersed in bacta. General Solo has informed me that you did not get adequate rest on your mission to Bakura, and that you suffered injuries to your lungs and leg in battle."
Luke Skywalker turned his ice blue gaze on the Correllian standing casually in the corner. "Han!" he cried, irritation and disbelief at Han's betrayal evident in his voice.
Han merely shrugged. "Sorry, kid," he said. "Her Worshipfulness insisted that I stick with her on this one . . . and you know I'm tryin' to stay on her good side." He favored Luke with a lopsided grin.
Luke drew an exasperated breath and turned back to the droid. "I rested most of the way back from Bakura, and my injuries are practically healed. I'm not checking myself in for any further treatment and that's final!"
"Stop whining, kid," Han teased with a chuckle.
Again, Luke shot the former smuggler an angry glare, but he said nothing.
At that moment, a young man wearing an officer's uniform stepped into the examining room. All eyes on the room turned on him as he spoke authoritatively, "I have been sent to escort Commander Luke Skywalker to Alliance High Command immediately."
Han and Luke exchanged confused glances before Luke spoke, "I am Luke Skywalker."
"Come with me, sir," the young officer barked.
Luke promptly complied, eager to get away from the scrutiny of the medical droid and his best friend's watchful eye. "Do you know what this is about?" he asked as he followed the officer toward the shuttle bay.
"No, sir, I do not," the officer replied curtly.
Something in the tone of the young man's voice persuaded Luke to remain silent throughout their journey from the Medical Frigate to Home One. However, Luke's mind was far from silent. What in the Force had prompted Alliance High Command to summon him? A cold knot of dread had begun forming in the pit of his stomach as his mind flashed to the possibility that they'd learned what he'd refused to disclose. Were they planning to question him about the events on the Death Star? Would he be called up on charges of withholding sensitive information regarding his parentage from those he should have told? Would he be forced to reveal Leia's relationship to him as well?
Or was he just being paranoid?
The rational portion of his brain reminded him that he had not yet been debriefed about the situation on Bakura, and that he was likely being summoned as part of standard procedure.
But High Command?
With questions still swirling about in his head, he stepped off the transport shuttle and walked beside the officer until they reached a pair of large, closed doors. The young officer paused beside him, indicating that Luke was to enter alone. Apprehensively, Luke opened the doors and walked into surroundings that were not exactly what he expected.
The large doors opened into a comparatively small room—an office to be exact. Within, two chairs sat facing a solitary desk, the occupant of which was smiling at him warmly.
"You summoned me, Mon Mothma?" Luke spoke with a slight bow, trying to keep the confusion out of his voice and barely succeeding.
"Commander," she greeted him, nodding toward one of the two chairs. "Please have a seat."
Wordlessly, Luke crossed the room and sat down in the chair she had indicated.
"I imagine you are rather curious as to why you have been brought here," Mon Mothma began once he was seated. "I felt that it would be best to meet with you here, in a more personal fashion, especially when dealing with such sensitive information."
All at once, Luke found it difficult to swallow, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears. Masking any expression on his face, he took a deep breath through his nose and released his anxieties. Breaking into a panic would do him no good, though it seemed that his worst fears were being confirmed.
Further doubt was erased as she continued, "It has come to my understanding, Commander, that you have not been exactly forthcoming in terms of your activities on board the Death Star and your reasons for allowing yourself to be taken captive. Am I correct in that assumption?"
Luke nodded, swallowing in a throat gone terribly dry. "Yes, Madam."
"Would you care to enlighten me on these issues, then, Commander?" she pressed, leaning her delicate frame slightly forward.
Trying to steady his racing pulse, Luke lowered his gaze a moment before replying, "Perhaps it would help if you told me what you already know."
Mon Mothma nodded her head and leaned back in her chair once more. "During your trip to Bakura, an investigation into your activities during the Battle of Endor was begun. Testimony from several sources, including that of Commander Antilles and General Calrissian, seemed to confirm our initial trust in your loyalty to the Alliance. Although you allowed yourself to be captured, it was believed that you had gone on some Jedi crusade to face the Emperor himself, though none of us clearly understood why. After all, even I do not presume to know the ways of the Jedi, and I was alive during the glory days of the Old Republic." She paused for a moment. "However, one of our intelligence operatives came to me with a piece of information she had encountered shortly before our relocation to Hoth. Our operative never gave it much thought, for she could not confirm the validity of this information, but I was hoping you could. It is, after all, something of a rather personal nature."
Luke shut his eyes for a moment, seeking the calm within. "You are referring to my parentage." It was not a question.
"Indeed."
Drawing a deep breath, Luke opened his eyes and focused on the woman before him. This was the moment of truth, the moment in which he revealed to the Alliance what he had revealed to only a precious few. A part of him wondered what would happen once they knew the truth, but he couldn't hide from his past any longer. He had confronted it on the Death Star, in that moment when he had seen how deep the still waters ran that linked him to his father, when he had renounced the Darkness and embraced the Light, nearly paying for his choice with his life. He had faced it when he watched the dark man his father had become disappear in that defining moment, when the servant destroyed the master, and Anakin Skywalker became whole again. And he had embraced it when he looked into the eyes of a dying man, a man who had risked everything for the son he barely knew and had sought forgiveness from the daughter he had never seen with his own eyes. Luke Skywalker would not—could not—back away from that truth now.
"I can confirm only this," he said, his voice soft but unwavering. "I am the son of Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi who was consumed and destroyed by the Dark Side more than twenty years ago. And during my lifetime, until the moment he gave his own life to save mine aboard the Death Star, he was known as Darth Vader."
It was hard not to miss the slight stiffening of Mon Mothma's posture in response to Luke's declaration. But he'd said it, and there was no turning back, not that he'd want to anyway. He'd made his peace with the truth. Now he could only wait to see what others would do with it.
"How long have you known of this?" the Alliance leader asked quietly.
Luke sighed and lowered his gaze. "Vader told me himself at Bespin, but I refused to believe it for a long time. In fact, it wasn't until just before the mission to Endor that I learned that he spoke the truth."
"Vader took your hand at Bespin, did he not?" Mon Mothma asked, clearly dismayed.
"Yes," Luke replied. "I lost my hand, my saber—he made that lightsaber, did you know that?" He paused, not really expecting an answer before he continued, "Ben—Obi-wan Kenobi, I mean—gave it to me. He told me that it belonged to my father, and that my father had been murdered by Darth Vader. Ben had a way of telling the truth from 'a certain point of view,' as he put it. I, of course, took him literally . . . until Bespin." There was another pause, and another sigh. Then Luke plowed on. "On Bespin, Vader told me he was my father, and then he tried to convince me to join him . . . said we could destroy the Emperor and rule the galaxy together. I refused. I chose death instead. I would have died, had the Falcon not rescued me. And for a long time, I wished I had died."
The silence from Mon Mothma pulled his gaze upward, and he met her shaken expression. Apparently she hadn't expected him to reveal all this when she summoned him.
Still holding her gaze, he added, "Then I realized that I had to go on. I owed it to the Alliance, to my dearest friends who had rescued me, to the Jedi who had died for their devotion to the light, and to those who had struggled to survive so that I might bring back that light."
Finding her voice, Mon Mothma asked, "Then why did you leave the strike team on Endor?"
"Because I could never be a true Jedi unless I faced Vader again," he answered, "and because of my presence in the Force. He knew where the team was. He could sense it because he could sense me. I had to surrender—to save the mission, and to save the Jedi. I had to bring Vader back to the light, or die trying."
"But you were his son," she interrupted. "Did you never feel loyalty toward him?"
"Not to Vader, no," Luke answered simply. "My father was Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi. Vader was corrupt, evil, a servant to the Emperor. How could I feel any compassion for that? No, I wanted to bring Anakin back from wherever he'd gone while Vader existed. That was all."
"And you succeeded?"
Luke nodded, his throat constricting. "He died saving my life. He killed the Emperor because the Emperor nearly killed me. In the end . . . in the end, he was Anakin Skywalker again, not Vader. Not the monster who'd killed the Jedi, my family, my friends, and scores of others. Not the vile thing that tormented Leia on the first Death Star. No, that man was destroyed the moment Anakin Skywalker felt compassion, when he gave his own life for mine."
A long silence followed. Luke had run out of things to say, though he felt he'd only just tapped the deep well of emotion he had yet to come to terms with. He fisted his hands to stop them from trembling. How could the feelings still be so raw after a month? Were these all because of Endor, or were more recent events contributing to the turbulence of his emotions? Had a second heartbreak on the heels of Endor been too much to bear?
"With your permission, I'd like to keep this information strictly confidential."
Mon Mothma's words broke into his thoughts unexpectedly, and Luke blinked uncertainly at her. "Madam?"
"Emotions are too high at the moment," she explained softly. "Revealing your parentage would serve no purpose and could only have negative results. However, it was necessary for you to confirm all this, as now I can be sure of your devotion to the Alliance throughout your service. After all, I'm sure you can understand how the news of your possible relationship to Darth Vader might bring your decision to be taken to the Death Star into question."
"I can," Luke agreed, a hint of relief creeping into his voice. "But if I may ask, how are you so certain of my loyalty? You only asked me a few questions."
"You revealed much more than what you were asked, and in a manner that attests to your truthfulness as opposed to some rehearsed speech," she responded. With a wink, she added, "Remember, I've spent most of my life in politics. I'm pretty savvy when it comes to liars, even without that Force of yours."
Luke felt himself ease into the first real smile of the day. "Thank you for your trust and confidence."
"My pleasure, Commander," she said, returning the smile. "I see the return of the Jedi in your eyes, Luke Skywalker, and with them the rise of a New Republic."
Her words, though meant as encouragement, left Luke feeling rather burdened. Yoda had said as much on Dagobah when he called Luke the last of the Jedi and instructed him to pass on what he had learned. However, Mothma's phrasing had placed a vast amount of responsibility on his shoulders, responsibility he was not sure he was ready to handle just yet. There was still so much he needed to learn. "I will try my best to live up to your expectations," he said somberly.
Mon Mothma rose from her seat saying, "I know you will."
Taking his cue, Luke stood as well and gripped her proffered hand in a grasp that conveyed more confidence than he felt. He gave her a quick salute before turning toward the door. Halfway to the door, he stopped abruptly as a sudden question sprang to mind. "Mon Mothma?"
"Yes?"
His gaze met hers as he ventured, "You said your operative found out about all of this before Hoth. How is that possible when I only first learned of this from Vader himself long after Hoth had been evacuated?"
Mon Mothma folded her hands in front of her and replied, "She said she came upon it quite by accident, and that the source was sketchy at best. It was ignored for quite some time, for she felt she could not give this source any credence until something more substantial came to the surface."
"My departure from Endor," Luke spoke in understanding.
"Exactly," she replied with a slight nod.
"But what was this source? Who knew about this besides Vader and Kenobi?"
A new voice spoke from behind him. "I did."
Luke spun around at the sound and, for a moment, he thought he was looking at a ghost or a vision. He could feel the blood pool in his feet as he stammered, "Genna?"
--
Genna was struggling to keep up with Luke's rapid strides as he made his way back to the shuttle bay. "Luke, wait! Please! Hear me out!"
Though she had hoped for the best, she'd known he probably wouldn't take this well. She hadn't quite expected him to storm out of the office of one of the Alliance's most prominent leaders without a word, however. After all, from what she'd gathered in the year spent working intelligence, he had matured and mastered some control over his emotions. Apparently, that control was still fragile—especially when tested in such a manner.
Luke still refused to slow down or regard her pleas.
"Luke!" she continued to shout after him. "Damn it, Luke! Stop!"
With an abruptness that startled her, he spun around. His blue eyes flashed brilliantly in a face gone much too pale. "What?"
Genna swallowed. At least he was acknowledging her now. "Please, let me explain all of this."
"Explain what?" he demanded, advancing a step. "Explain how you kept this from me? About how you knew all this time and never bothered to tell me? About how you faked your own death and left me alone to feel heartbroken and miserable and responsible and wretchedly guilty?"
"Luke, I didn't know," Genna hastily interrupted. "I didn't know about Vader. I didn't believe it." At Luke's dubious glare, she went on, "I didn't! Laire told me, the day he shot me. He showed me data that was too ridiculous to be true. He told me, and then he died, and the evidence was destroyed so I had nothing to make me believe it was anything but a twisted lie! Believe me, I wanted to forget!"
The face that stared back at her was one of stone. There was no forgiveness there, nor was there understanding. In fact, there was no emotion whatsoever. "And your 'death'?" The last word was delivered dripping in sarcasm.
"Command," she replied, desperate to reach him. "They moved me to a secret location before I was even recovered. I didn't know what was going on, I swear to you! They didn't want me flying anymore! Instead, they forced me into intelligence! Forced me, Luke! Everything that defined who I was—my identity—was suddenly gone! They wanted me as far away from you as possible, and the only way they thought to do that was to tell you that I was dead. And there was nothing I could do, Luke! Believe me, if I could have done anything, I would. But after everything that had happened . . . with Laire . . . eventually I came to realize it was for the best." She paused, taking a step closer and looking deep into his blue eyes. "I was prepared to die to protect you when I was in that room with Laire. When they took me away, I thought I had."
In response, his eyes softened slightly, but his jaw was still tight. He looked away from her and crossed to a nearby wall, leaning his weight upon it stiffly even as a muscle in his cheek twitched. "Why this? Why now?"
"You deserted the strike team, Luke." She struggled to keep her voice even. "In the middle of one of the most important battles in the Alliance's history, you up and left. And not only that, you allowed yourself to be captured and taken to the Death Star. Command wanted an explanation." She swallowed before saying softly, "I wanted an explanation."
His blue gaze met hers sharply. "You?"
Unable to hold his gaze any longer, she looked down at her booted feet. "I was scared. Scared that Laire had told me the truth, scared that you had somehow allowed family loyalty to override your loyalty to the Alliance, scared that all my trust in you had been betrayed."
Luke gave a dark chuckle. "You're one to talk of betrayed trust."
The remark cut deep. "I never stopped loving you, Luke."
"That's good to know," Luke responded flatly. "It's certainly comforting to know that the woman I grieved for all those months ago continued to love me while I thought she was dead."
"That's not fair!" Genna snapped, looking back up at him. "I had no choice."
"But I paid for it nevertheless!"
"And for that I am truly sorry, Luke," she cried, desperation compelling her to reach out and take his hand. But even as her fingers touched the skin of his right hand, he jerked it away. The action sent a shockwave of pain through her, but she pressed on, "Luke, it hurt me more than you know to leave you, to know that you thought I was dead. Don't think I didn't about you every day, wishing I could do something—send you a message, catch a glimpse of you—I don't know! I can only apologize for what has happened and move forward, Luke. I can't change the past."
"No, you can't." The anger and hurt had vanished from his voice, and the words had been spoken with a sense of quiet acceptance. In bewilderment, Genna stared at him as he pushed up the sleeve on his right arm and indicated the miniscule seam where the bionic hand had been fused to his skin. "And neither can I."
Genna knew what had happened on Bespin, but seeing the evidence chilled her. She tried to find her voice, but couldn't.
"Why did you come here to see me?" he asked.
Genna shook her head. She didn't know why she had felt such an intense desire to see him again, to show him that she was still alive after all this time. "I guess I thought you deserved to know the truth," she found herself saying. "Especially since things are different now. The things that kept me from ever contacting you no longer exist." She paused, studying the seam in his arm and the look in his eyes. "Though now it's clear that new elements have taken their place."
"Too much has happened too fast," Luke agreed softly. "I'm not the same person I was. I've loved and lost and hurt too much to be the same person you abandoned, Genna." He quickly amended, "The same person they took you away from, I mean."
Looking into his eyes, Genna could see the truth of what he spoke. The innocence was gone. Those blue eyes that had once seemed so trusting now seemed painfully cynical in comparison. Scars marked the once youthful face into which she had stared an eternity ago. "Neither of us is the same," she admitted softly, wishing fervently now that she had never emerged into Mon Mothma's office, had never revealed herself to him. "And I had no right to do this to you. I shouldn't have come back. I should have let Mon Mothma handle everything. I don't know what I was thinking, Luke. Believe me, my heart is breaking over all of this."
Luke sighed. "Well, hearts were meant to be broken," he said simply. There was a long pause before he spoke again, and this time it was in a voice much more gentle than before. The voice of the Luke she had known. "But the good thing about them is that they heal. Mine did. I never thought I'd be able to love again after you, but I did."
Something about this admission made Genna strangely uncomfortable. "You did?"
He nodded and sighed again. "Of course, she broke my heart, too." Before Genna could utter a response he continued with a wry smile, "And don't apologize again, because I saw you were going to."
A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips as she realized the truth of his statement. "Yes, I was."
"And I'm glad you came forward," he went on. "My curiosity would have gotten the better of me and I would have found out about the mystery informant sooner or later. I'm glad I found out from you."
With a sigh and a profound sense of sadness, Genna responded, "Then I'm glad I came forward." She took one last long look at him before saying, "So, I guess this is goodbye."
Luke nodded once more, Genna's own sadness mirrored in his face. "I think the only thing we can give each other now is closure."
Surprised at the sting in her eyes, Genna blinked quickly before any tears could form and leaned over to kiss his cheek gently. When her eyes locked on his once more, she whispered, "Do you know why I refused to believe Laire? You were too beautiful a man. Too compassionate, too honest, too inherently good. And, looking into your eyes, I can tell that you still are. You are going to make some woman incredibly happy, Luke Skywalker."
A faint hint of a smile curved the edges of his mouth and he replied, "And you will always have a piece of my heart, Genna Cage."
It was then that Genna knew the door had been closed. For better or worse, an end had come to Luke's Skywalker's presence in her life. It was time to move on, with no questions and no regrets. "Goodbye, Commander Skywalker," she said with a formal salute.
"Goodbye, Cage." This time, it was his turn to leave her, and she watched him continue his path toward the shuttle bay.
Yes, her heart had broken, but Luke was right. It would heal with time. After all, that's what hearts are meant to do.