Not long after that, Leia and Han came in to find Padmé and I holding hands, smiling at each other in the most perfect understanding we would ever share. But the joy within me faded at the sight of the jealousy flashing in Han's eyes, at the narrowing of Leia's.

"Mother!" said Padmé with her childhood gregariousness, hopping to her feet and letting my hand loose. Seemed she was keeping her vow of letting more of herself out. "Dad! Thank goodness you're all here. Because Uncle Luke was just telling me—"

And the boom was lowered.

Padmé couldn't have known, of course. But neither spouse failed to detect the use of—"Uncle Luke, eh?" Han remarked with an easy smile, the blazes in his eyes. "So, you told her?"

Leia kept her tone light. "When did you plan to consult us about that, Luke?"

"I didn't realize I needed to consult you two when she showed up at my front door, having learned the truth of my origins for herself," I lied with a smoothness that shocked me, leaning back in my seat like some casual cantina frequenter. Padmé, too seemed impressed by my sudden fibbing skill.

Yeah, well, I could be sneaky, too, when the moment demanded. (Or so it would seem.)

"That's right," she went on, nodding. "I found out that there was no 'Lord Whitesun' on Riosa, after I was looking into whether or not he was stalking me. So, I decided to investigate further. Well, I learned from your ship's log, Dad, that you'd been to Tatooine more than anywhere else, and from there it was pretty easy to find the farmer you call friend and I call uncle." Nice job, I thought.

"Right," I agreed firmly. "And so when she got there, I explained to her that I was, in fact, her uncle—not her stalker."

"Explaining that part was very important," added Padmé.

"Quite so."

"He explained you two were separated at birth after your adoption, Mom, since the Organas didn't want a son, too."

And both Leia and Han imperceptibly relaxed. "Right," Leia agreed. "Of course. We just wanted to wait for the right time to tell you."

"You seem to want to wait for the right time to tell me many things." Padmé shot them an utterly sparkling smile, then smoothed out her blanket on the window seat and sat back down with grace. Then, "Like Uncle Luke being a farmer! You got the lucky side of it all, you know, Mom," she accused playfully.

Leia's gaze shadowed. I knew she did not consider herself the 'lucky one'; I imagined her thinking of her dead parents and her own dead dreams of being a benevolent queen. In some ways, though, Padmé's comment had merit. Leia just didn't understand what life on Tatooine was like, how harsh, how grinding, how full of toil and often full of disappointment following such toil.

Still. The tension in the room could've been cut by a knife it was so thick.

I jumped in, "Actually, my nickname back home is Lucky Luke, so I'm gonna have to disagree with that."

"Is it? I love that! Lucky Luke. Rhymes well."

"Definitely. And it's much improved over the former nickname given me—'Wormie'."

"Wormie, really? Why?"

"I never learned," I mused.

Padmé burst out laughing—a loud, ringing laugh that contained bell-clear freedom in it—and Han and Leia relaxed more. I smiled at her. We'd fooled them. But making such comments… Well, Padmé was nothing if not bold. And pissed. But at least I'd cheered her up, a fact which won me some level of points later.

Some level.

"We really wish you'd consulted us before telling her, Luke," Leia said a bit later on.

"I'm sorry. Given that she just showed up at my door demanding who I was, I didn't exactly have time to send a holo."

"That's fair enough," Han finally said, almost like the words had been wrenched from him without his consent.

"At least she doesn't know the fullness of it," Leia said, nodding to herself. Because apparently she still insisted on keeping so much from her daughter, despite the fact that it did—what?—anymore. "But she knows not to share it, right?"

"Of course. She knows to keep things close to the vest."

"But will she?"
"Sure she will," I defended. "You know how she is."

"Actually, you seem to more as of lately," Han observed. "Why not share it with us, kid?"

I flushed—half with anger, half with shame. I knew that Padmé going to me rather than him had cut him more deeply than he'd ever admit to anybody, even himself. "Han—you know I'm not trying to—"

"I think it's great that you and Padmé are gettin' on so well, kid!" he said with an abruptly jovial air, slinging an arm around my shoulders, and I knew the conversation topic was stowed. I deflated inwardly, heart still hurting a bit—but nowhere near as much as Han must be.

"We all know how seriously Han takes being a father." And Leia, for her part, winked at her husband, who suddenly seemed cheered—as if by some shared secret. He plopped a none-too-discreet kiss on her lips that lingered on, making me exit the room quite swiftly. But later, as I was leaving, I confessed,

"I'm glad you two seem to be doing better."

Leia smiled—a bit secretively. "Oh, we're getting there."

"Meaning you're convincing him of all your points about the rebellion and leaving all of his behind in the dust?"

"Something like that." She grinned, then kissed my cheek, that glow I'd noticed in her prior to the parade seeming to shine even brighter in her. "See you at the next meeting."

"Course."

OOO

"Grand Inquisitor Reva: what is the update on the Jedi?"

"My lord… the Inquisitor we sent never returned."
"Interesting. That would be three you've lost by this point, wouldn't it?"

"…yes, my lord."

"Handle the hunt personally. Get them. Bring them to me. The Force is uniquely strong with this one…"

"Yes, Master."

"And do not fail me again."

OOO

On reaching the edge of the homestead, I sensed a presence. But the presence itself was no longer unfamiliar. The feelings behind the presence… were.

I lovingly caressed my lightsaber, set securely within the folds of my cloak. With the Inquisitors around, I always had to be prepared. Who awaited me wasn't of the Inquisitorious variety. But I sensed the visitor may be just as dangerous.

Maybe more.

I headed inside to find Biggs sitting in the kitchen. He no longer looked the part of the pleading would-be lover from a few days ago. He reposed in my chair, dressed in full military uniform, and regarded me with a thin-lipped smile.

"Luke."

"Admiral Darklighter."

"I'm headed back to the fleet. But I just wanted to come by, because a lot of us have been wondering if you were kidnapped by sand people or something. So much time gone from here…"

"I got lost."

"For three days?"

"Very lost," I said sadly. "I was lucky to survive."

"Oh, it'd have to be, Lucky Luke." Biggs got to his feet, speaking almost idly as he adjusted his rancor-leather driving gloves. "Anyway—I just thought you'd be interested to hear: the new Major in charge here finally tracked down the leader of that pesky group messing with commerce." Meaning the group messing with the slave trade around here.

My gut dipped. The leader of the White Suns—grizzled old Vill—he was in custody? Had he talked? Was that why Biggs was here? I tried once again to get a read on him, but he was so tightly controlled.

No, I realized. Vill couldn't have talked. Because then Biggs would be here to arrest me, or someone else here to do it. Biggs merely suspected. He didn't know. That meant Vill's capture was fairly recent.

My gut unclenched. I could work with that.

I said, "That's great news, I guess."

"You guess?"
"I never made it a secret I disagreed with some… commerce the Empire engages in. After all, Shmi was involved in that variety."

I thought I detected the subtlest hint of regret within Biggs's eyes. "Yes," he mused. "Well, the new Major is very effective. The group should be nonexistent within no time. Any members who are found… will pay the proper price."

"What price do you think that would be, Biggs?" I returned, remembering such a similar conversation with my niece only a week and a half ago. We drew nearer and nearer to one another in mutually understood, silently declared stand-off.

And then he leaned into my ear, whispering intently, "Don't make me hurt you, Luke. Be smart about this. Leave while you can."

"I don't think I will," I returned evenly, pulling back to meet his fathomless hazel gaze. Now, he was open to me in the Force. And I saw within the truth of him hints of the boy I once knew—the man I couldn't entirely think evil no matter how hard I tried. "I don't think I will. I think I'll stay… and hold my ground."

"Kark! You're such a stupid, courageous man. Don't you understand that those who disobey the Empire only get hurt?"

"I understand the trend."

Fire flared in Biggs's eyes. He looked apt to speak again. Then, suddenly, he grabbed me. I sucked in a breath, unprepared for the force with which he pinned me against the wall. He was kissing me before I could recover and muster a defense; his moustache tickled my face; his lips moved hotly over mine. And I was turning limp, limp as a rag doll in his arms, letting him do whatever he may…

He demanded, "Open your mouth. Open it…"

And by the stars, I did.

And when it was all over, I suffered from a feeling of delicious faintness, bracing one hand against the wall, breathing every bit as hard as he was. But I needed to get this out. "Biggs… be careful when you get back to the—fleet."

He swallowed, then nodded—maybe a tacit acknowledgement of what we both knew.

I added, "And don't mention me to anyone."

"What?"

"My name. Don't mention it to anyone. Try… try not even to think of me. Or if you do—think only of my first name, and not my location."

His eyes narrowed. But then, though he clearly didn't understand why I said so… he slowly began to nod. With the same solemness with which he'd once promised for us to be best friends forever and ever, he said, "Not a word. Not a soul," and then left, got on his speeder bike, and never looked back.

Sometimes, people surprised you.

But it also meant Biggs now knew some shadow of the secrets I housed within my heart. I touched my lips. I felt the chair, where he'd so recently sat at, taking in the echoes of his presence. I handled the heady beat of my heart, and explored the strange sensation of lack-of-loneliness within me.

Then, I decided to go and save the White Suns. Forget this. Forget all of it, I told the treacherous butterflies in my stomach. I had to go.