Chapter 4 – Long Walk Home

Leia was catatonic.

She stared at the blue and white swirl out the viewport, this rushing rivulet of hyperspace. She wanted to cry. She was unable.

"We'll cover for you!" Biggs had said over the com. "You'll be safe at the coordinates I gave you! Make the jump!"

"Don't worry about us. We'll be okay," said Val. "Look out for yourself."

Look out for yourself.

That's all she was good at.

She had left Alderaan to make a difference. What had she accomplished since? She had no idea if her friends were dead, if they had been taken prisoner. She knew they couldn't possibly have escaped. Those TIEs they flew hadn't been equipped with hyperdrives. They had sacrificed themselves – either their lives or their freedom – for her. Why?

Was it because they were loyal to her? It went beyond that. It had to. That was not loyalty, but fervor. They must truly believe that her life was worth more than theirs.

But it wasn't. She wasn't special. She was worthless. She fashioned herself a leader, then she proved herself a failure. A true leader didn't abscond into the night. A true leader protected her followers. She fought to the end!

What would that accomplish? Vader would have killed her had she chosen to fight.

Or would he have? His behavior mystified Leia. The way he treated her, it was as if she were his most prized possession, a crowning jewel. He was possessive, obsessive. It scared her. It also fascinated her. Why her? Sure, she was a good pilot, a great one even, but surely there were other exceptional pilots in the galaxy. What was so special about her in particular?

They stole you from me.

That's what he had said. What did he mean? It implied he belonged to her before. But how could that be? She had no memory of Vader. As far as she knew, today was the first time they had met. And yet…

She couldn't think straight. Not now. Vader was not important. She thought instead of Biggs, who had been her friend, her ally. She thought of Val. Oh Val. I never got to tell you. But what was there to tell? That I am in love with you? Am I? Val was her friend, but more often than not, her feelings for her bent toward romantic rather than platonic; and, although she was sheepish to admit it, her thoughts were more than just romantic, but sexual. Before she met Val, Leia had no idea she could ever think about other girls in that way. It scared her as much as it exhilarated her.

But that was not love. It was infatuation. Nothing more.

Tell yourself that, you wicked girl. Val very well may be dead because of you. She may have given her life so that you might escape. And now you try to push her away? To erase her? Oh, she was just a friend, that's all. I didn't care about her. Not really.

It was her coping mechanism. Such was the way of the survivor, the vagabond. She hated herself for it. But she had chosen this life for herself . Are you going to turn back now? Because you can. There's still time. Go back to Alderaan. Plead for your parents' forgiveness. I'm so sorry, Mother, Father. I never should have left.

The thought appealed to her. But it would be cowardly. Her friends hadn't sacrificed themselves so that Leia could return to Alderaan as a princess. They had done it because they all believed in a cause. Freedom from tyranny, from fear. Leia believed in that cause too. Or at least she claimed to.

Leia's heart jumped when she made a sudden realization. This ship was Vader's personal shuttle. It would have a tracking beacon. Wherever she went, the Empire would be able to find her. Biggs said she would be safe at the coordinates he provided – there were people, so he claimed, who could protect her – but they wouldn't be able to protect her if she led the Empire straight to them!

What should she do? There was no way she could find the tracking beacon. They were designed to be unfindable. It would take hours to scour through the whole ship. She didn't have hours. She had minutes, at most. As she thought it, a button on the control panel began flashing. Leia felt a spike of panic. She made herself calm down, take a breath. Think about it clearly. Obviously, she wouldn't be able to land at the exact coordinates. Ideally she would land on a different hemisphere entirely. But that wasn't possible. She had no other means of transportation. No, she would have to land within walking distance. How far could she cut it? Ten miles? Twenty? Hopefully whichever planet Biggs had sent her to was hospitable.

As fate would have it, the planet in question was not hospitable. Not in the slightest. The ship exited hyperspace and Leia groaned when she saw the sandy rock in her viewport. Great. A desert planet. Leia peeled off her flight jacket. Besides being too bulky for the heat, it would make her immediately recognizable. She searched the shuttle's various compartments for some supplies which might prove useful. It was slim pickings. There was a canister, but no water. Great. Might as well bring it in case she found a water source, but she was doubtful. There was an assortment of blasters in a weapons locker. That would come in handy in case she was caught, but it wouldn't do much to keep her alive in the meantime. Either way, she felt marginally better with the DL-22 pistol tucked into her waistband.

A klaxon alerted her it was time to return to the cockpit. She assumed manual control over the shuttle as she piloted it into the desert planet's atmosphere. She glanced at the navcom, plotting out her landing spot. The planet had a rough geography, very hilly. Mountains to the north would need to be avoided. She chose a location southwest of the coordinates Biggs provided. That seemed to be the most even terrain.

The landing went smoothly. No TIEs came to shoot her out of the sky. She would have to move quickly, though. The Imperials would no doubt be right on her tail. Pulling up her sleeves, strapping the empty canister to a carabiner on her belt, Leia headed to the hatch. She pressed the button, opening it. Standing at the top of the ramp, she squinted at the desert. Not one, but two suns dominated the bright blue sky. Sandy dunes stretched for miles, the air simmering in the heat. Leia took a breath, steeled herself, and began to walk.

She took the datapad from the shuttle. It had the results of her blood test which, while interesting, were unimportant to her now. What she needed from it was the compass function. She needed to head southwest for nearly fifteen miles. How long would that take her? Six hours? Eight? Would she even make it without water?

You have to make it, Leia told herself. Val, Biggs, and all the others couldn't have sacrificed themselves for nothing. You had to succeed. But Leia didn't even know what that entailed.

She could think about that later once she was safe. For now, she had to focus on survival. She walked steadily, not too fast that she got tired, but not too slow either. She had to put as much distance between herself and the shuttle as possible. But Leia realized a problem. Her footprints were obvious in the sand. When the Imperials found the shuttle, they'd know exactly where she went. Great thinking, Leia. You should have gone to the mountains. It would have been more difficult, but at least it wouldn't be as easy to track you.

She had to live with her decision. No point in dwelling on bad choices. If Leia did that, she'd never be able to get out of bed in the morning. Every choice she ever made, small or large, came with an ounce, or a gallon, of regret.

Speaking of ounces and gallons, she was thirsty. She'd known this would happen. She had prepared herself mentally for the thirst. But experiencing it was something different. Her skin was drenched with sweat. She could taste the salt on her lips. How much longer? Leia looked at the coordinates on her datapad. Not close. Not close at all. She'd only been walking for a couple hours.

The suns began to set. It didn't get any cooler. The sky was carmine red, the desert blazing gold. It was beautiful. What a nice place, Leia thought, for her to die. She couldn't muster the mental strength to reprove such thoughts. She was resigned. This is fitting, isn't it? Wandering, alone, in the desert. No clear aim, no purpose. I am a fool. I thought I could make a difference, and this is where I ended up.

Foolish girl. Leia Organa, the run-away princess of Alderaan, found dead in the desert of a backwater world, her only possessions an empty canister and an unfired blaster, a stolen datapad as well. That was what she would amount to.

Leia stopped. She could not go any longer. She was so tired. She was so thirsty. She unclipped the canister from her belt. It fell to the sand. She flung the datapad like a frisbee. To her knees, she sank. Her shoulders shook, fingers trembled. She reached around her back and pulled out the blaster.

A sound in the distance. Speeder approaching. They had caught up to her, finally. Give up. Turn yourself in. Or better yet… the blaster.

No. She was a coward. She stood, tossed the blaster aside. Turned around.

"Cadet!" a stormtrooper yelled, jumping out of a troop transport. "Hands on your head! Do it!"

Leia did.

"Walk to me. Slowly."

Leia did.

Stormtroopers filed out of the transport. There were a dozen of them, maybe more. Was she really that important? Had they deployed the whole garrison to find her?

Leia stumbled in the sand. She felt as if she'd been punched in the gut. Had one of the stormtroopers stunned her? No, they hadn't fired. The commander barked at her.

"Hey! Keep it moving!"

Leia looked up. Her heart was pounding. She sensed something. It was indescribable. Exciting, awe-inspiring. It took her breath away.

"Commander! Speeder approaching."

The stormtroopers looked beyond her. Leia wanted to turn around, but the commander kept his carbine trained on her. She stood frozen. Behind her, she heard the thrum of an engine approach. It got closer. And closer.

"Stop right there!" a stormtrooper shouted.

A shadow passed overhead. Leia flinched, a cloaked man soared through the air, robes rippling. He landed in front of her, gracefully, and drew a weapon. It looked like the laser sword she'd seen Vader wield, except this blade was green, not red.

"Blast him!"

The hooded man deflected their bolts with exceptional ease. His sword acted as an extension of his arm, a fluid dance of destruction, the stormtroopers felled with precise strikes. It was all over in a matter of seconds. Amid the carnage, the man deactivated his blade. He stood there, motionless, his back to her. Leia stared at him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice cracked. "Who are you?"

He turned around. Removed his hood. A sandy haired young man emerged, tan-skinned with a strong, square chin. He was handsome. Familiar.

"I am Luke Skywalker," he said, smiling. "You're safe now."

Δ Δ Δ

Vader stood on the bridge of the Prerogative, staring, sightlessly, at the expanse of space. An underling cleared his throat.

"Lord Vader, sir."

He sounded terrified. As he should.

"Yes?" Vader said. "Do you have news on the girl?"

"Yes, my lord."

Good. Otherwise Vader would have had to punish him. He had expressly ordered not to be disturbed unless it pertained to the girl. Two hours prior, he had received news that the shuttle had been tracked to Tatooine. The girl was not on the shuttle, but it was only a matter of time before she was found. There was only so far she could have gotten on foot. She would be back in his possession soon.

"The garrison on Tatooine," Vader said. "Did they apprehend her?"

The officer gulped. "No, my lord."

Vader clenched a fist. "Why not?"

"They found her, my lord. She was in their custody, but an unidentified assailant intervened. He killed the whole platoon."

"One man?"

"Yes, my lord. We have helmet cam footage of the incident."

"And?"

"We have not identified him, my lord, but one thing is clear."

Vader was silent.

"He was a Jedi."

Vader unclenched his fist, the breathing apparatus amped. A terrific excitement suffused his metal limbs; electric current sparked in the wires, in the gears, like blood rushing through veins, were he still a full-fleshed man. Yes, yes! Kenobi. He had finally found him. Hiding away on Tatooine all these years, had he been? Clever. He knew Vader would never return there, not willingly.

But now he would. To find his daughter. To exact revenge.

"Bring me to Tatooine," Vader said. "I will deal with this myself."

Darth Vader was returning home.