Somewhere in that space between dream and reality, Kyla came to me once more. Disappointment was written across her stonily-set face. "Padmé, Padmé… Why do you insist on doing this? Why do you deny me?"

Propped up as I was in my hospital bed, hazy from the drugs given me to ease the pain of the surgery, I nevertheless met her gaze with evenness and frigidity to rival her own. "Because I refuse to give into you. Yes… you're a part of me, but you aren't all of me. And you're hardly the best part of me. I have nothing for you. Now go away."

My dark doppelgänger broke out in a hideous sneer. Finally the polite venire had been stripped away, leaving the true woman beneath. Dark. Hateful. And willing to kill.

But she could do nothing without my permission.

"Well. I see how it is. Fine, then. You'll regret this, someday, Padmé. I promise you. You'll regret it so much."

Well. At least she sounded like a regular villain, now. I smiled, and though it hurt to talk with my still recovering chest, replied lightly, "I doubt it. Goodbye."

With that, she left me.

The haze of drugs precluded cogency such as that most of the time. The damage from the lightsaber's cut had apparently been extensive to my pulmonodes. I was "lucky to be alive".

Oh, not that again.

But... it was true enough. I was lucky, and I was glad, even if life didn't currently make much sense at all. Between breaths of incoherence, I gained inhalations of comprehension. Alderaan. Home. I might never return. The throne. It was no longer ours, but the Frosts'. We weren't even royalty any longer. And Adalyse was dead.

But the Death Star II had fallen. Somehow Luke had gotten Mother away. She was alive. Father was alive. They visited me sometimes, and I believe that I cried a lot and apologized. Though I can't quite recall.

At some indeterminable hour, I reached full consciousness again. The doctor in charge of me, a cheerful and idiotic man who I nonetheless appreciated for his efforts, could be heard saying happily that it was "remarkable, my recovery"! I fell asleep again, after that.

When I woke, I found Luke sitting by my bed. Even in my haze, I'd noticed a new haunted air about him. Something had happened for him on the second Death Star, just like something had happened for me. But I was shocked to find just how drawn and tortured he looked.

He attempted a serene Jedi mask when he noticed my open eyes. "Padmé."

"Uncle," I returned. Though it still hurt a little, I sat up. I tried to think of something cogent and maybe soothing to say, but all I could think to say was, "I'm sorry."

"You've already mentioned that to all of us."

"Yes, but now I can explain."

"You don't have to."

"I shouldn't have left the team on Endor—"

"No. But it's behind us."

"Can't you just let me say what I need to say before you get all forgiving?" I snapped.

"Oh, sorry. I'll wait." The slightest hint of sass lay in the response.

My lips had to twitch. A hint of hope sprang up in me. "I shouldn't have left... nor should I have recruited Dad to my cause to leave... but I had to go help Mother and Tai-Lin. Well—Mother, anyway." I still didn't want to contemplate Tai-Lin's gruesome death. From Luke's suddenly stricken frown, neither did he. So I went on, "But I can't regret doing it. Because I finally got it."

"Got what?"

"What you meant all those years back about it not being an easy life, becoming a Jedi. I should never have blamed you for not going back for Mother. You made the right call, not the easy one. You made the call that saves more lives. And I thought... I could never do that. That you just didn't get it. That you weren't a hero at all. But when I was on the Death Star... and I felt Adalyse go... I realized I was the one who didn't get it. If I'd stayed where I was, she wouldn't be dead."

"...honey, you don't know that—"

"I think I do. The battle went on longer. She died toward the end. We can all do the math. If you'd been back on Endor to help the Ewoks and rebels bring down the troops faster than the team down there did—instead of up on the station saving my ass—then it would have been over faster."

Luke wasn't cruel. But he didn't contradict me. We both knew its truth.

"And that's how I realized what you meant. By saving one I loved, I condemned another. The Jedi are... called to something higher than last-ditch rescue missions or traditionally heroic actions. You serve the Force, and in doing so trust that all works out for highest good."

"It is the general idea," he said quietly. "But every day I find it harder and harder to live up to the ideal. Codes are one thing. Execution of them... is something vastly different. We just can't ever give up hope that it is achievable, in all of our sentient imperfection. We let the Force transcend our own flawed beings, the better to do its perfect will."

It sounded extremely idealistic to me still. But I could no longer dismiss it, either. I'd seen the raw reality of the Force, of the dark, and of the Sith. There was much I hadn't known—like the fact that there were at least two Sith, and probably three in the Emperor. Like how the Jedi pretty much gave up all in order that others might have more. Like how... I wanted in my heart of hearts to be even fractionally like my uncle.

Like how I now knew I would honor my lost best friend.

It was the purest kind of heroism, and all the more because some people never understood it. It wasn't the heroic legend. It was so much more than that. So much more difficult than that. So much more rewarding than that.

And so I asked him, "Will you teach me?"

Luke betrayed no surprise at this query, only pride. He smiled, no longer looking so haunted, and it was his old smile now—the lightful farmboy grin that made my aching chest momentarily full once more. "This was lesson one."

I inclined my head. "Thank you, my master."

END OF BOOK TWO

OOO

Alright! Done! By the way, that is my view on the beliefs of the old Jedi (as Luke was raised to be in this AU). I'm not necessarily saying I agree with the ideal. In my opinion... Well... you'll see my opinions as the series continues.

In that vein, next up is 'Heirs', which should be a longer book than either Lucky Luke or this one. I'm imagining about 80K. It will be narrated from Luke's POV again and pick up three years after this, with him concluding some of Padmé's training on Dagobah and then both of them heading back to fight with the Alliance. It will be very loose AU of Empire Strikes Back with some elements of other movies thrown in there.

Thanks so much for your support and reviews throughout this story. They motivated and encouraged me a ton.

Crossing my fingers that I'll see and hear from you at the next book!

Warm wishes,
Hope