Chapter 1
Three Days Previous
Luke Skywalker wiped the sweat away from his brow and regarded his handiwork with a critical eye, searching for any defect in craftsmanship, anything he could have missed in its construction. To his admittedly inexperienced perception, everything looked properly placed and functional, but as his experience with lightsabers consisted of his father's blade Ben had given him when they had left Tatooine for the first time, he could not be certain.
His father's lightsaber he had lost on Bespin.
As always, the thought of his ill-fated duel with Darth Vader – his father – and the events which had taken place on the gantry in Cloud City caused him to flex his hand – his artificial hand. Gripping it tightly into a fist, Luke felt pain and despair wash over his senses once again, the passage of almost six months since the event having done nothing to ease the shock and pain of betrayal he had felt upon learning the truth.
Forcing himself to calm, Luke once again turned his attention back to the lightsaber lying on the workbench. He had shied away from the same design as his father's –perhaps unconsciously, perhaps not – and had instead designed a functional weapon, one which was more similar to Ben's weapon than his previous blade.
Of course, having found Ben's instructions and materials in his hut on Tatooine had likely influenced the design he had ultimately chosen for his lightsaber – without this information, he doubted he would have been able to construct a working weapon. He had taken his father's lightsaber apart a number of times in the years he had had it, but even that had not been enough preparation for the actual task.
Sighing, Luke sat back in his chair and considered the last several months. Lando and Chewie had managed to find the Hutt's location very quickly, notorious as the gangster was. Luke had followed with Leia soon after, setting up their base of operations in the old Jedi's former home while they waited for Lando to infiltrate Jabba's palace. The former baron had ingratiated himself into the Hutt's operations and had managed to acquire a position as one of the gangster's guards – a position which would likely prove useful in the days to come. And he had managed to verify the fact that the vile gangster had yet to release Han from the carbonite – instead he was being used as a wall decoration. The memory of Leia crying in his arms at the news still filled him with anger.
However, knowing that rashly reacting to this news would only put them all in great danger, Luke had forced himself to be patient and allow time for their plans to come to fruition. He had busied himself, studying everything he could of the Jedi from the materials he found in Ben's hut, poring over books, training manuals and old manuscripts. It had also been necessary to train diligently in the use of his artificial hand; in time, he gotten so used to it, he was hardly aware of any difference between it and the original.
Through it all, he knew had had changed – he was definitely not the boy he had been. Experience and knowledge had forever changed him and sorrow had forged him into what he was now. He knew deep down that he was more confident, competent and wiser than he had ever been before.
What he did not know, was whether it was enough.
He had also attended to the construction of his lightsaber, using the Force to guide him in its planning, construction and execution. The task had taken him longer than he had expected, much of the time taken by the necessity of having to forge his own focusing crystal. Among the Jedi teachings he had discovered in Ben's hut, he had found a trove of material related to lightsaber construction. Reading the information voraciously, he had learned that the Jedi of the past had generally built their lightsabers using ilum crystals from the Belgaroth system. Unfortunately, not having had the opportunity to obtain one of these crystals for himself, Luke had determined to create his own. Luke was not certain if the Jedi Master had made his own crystal, or simply had the information in case he ended up having to, but the entire process had been detailed in his notes and it had been a simple, if time consuming, matter for Luke to follow the notes and create his own crystal. Given the length of time the Jedi had spent exiled on this rock with nothing to do, Luke could well imagine the old master having to create one for himself if anything happened to his original crystal.
Now was the ultimate test; he would know if all his hard work had paid off with a working lightsaber. Yet Luke hesitated, thinking back over his numerous failures of the past several weeks. He had come to this point before, convinced of his success, only have the blade fizzle out after only a few seconds, or even worse yet – not ignite at all. The longing for a completed lightsaber was almost a physical pain – he felt naked without its reassuring presence. He had carried a lightsaber since the time Ben had him given his father's weapon and being without one had been taxing.
Knowing he was running out of time and that he was avoiding the possibility of his new weapon not working, Luke resolutely picked up the lightsaber and thumbed the switch. Instantly, an emerald blade shot out of the emitter as the lightsaber hummed into life.
Warily, Luke regarded the blade, half expecting the lightsaber to short out yet again. When nothing happened, he began to swing it around experimentally, testing the unfamiliar feeling of the new handle, familiarizing himself with the sensation of having his own weapon – one of his own creation. As his confidence grew, he began swinging the saber in more complicated sequences, a feeling of euphoria beginning to swell. Soon, he was moving through the forms with abandonment, feeling the Force flow through him.
At length he stopped and gazed at the brilliant green of his saber, finally understanding the references he had uncovered to a bond between saber and wielder which littered the writings he had studied. He had never felt this way about his father's lightsaber before.
The door to the chamber opened in that instant and in walked Leia. She stopped and stared, transfixed at the sight of his glowing blade. "So, it's finished."
Luke grinned at her before deactivating the blade. "So it would appear. And it didn't even short out this time."
"Well, you certainly do have a good sense of timing," Leia replied, her face mirroring his grin, "although I would have been much more comfortable if you hadn't cut it so close."
Luke merely flipped a mocking salute before turning back to his workbench, intending to tidy up some of the items he had left there upon finishing his work. This Leia – the warm, bantering friend – had been missing far too often of late. Her moods had been dark, bordering on morose. He was happy to see more of the old Leia he knew and loved.
"So, you doubted me, did you?"
He could hear Leia move closer behind him as her warm voice washed over him. "No, I guess I didn't. No matter what, we have always managed in the past."
"That we have," he agreed. He continued with his task, reveling in the closeness he felt with his companion, until chore completed, he turned and regarded her. She was staring, gazing at something only she could see, once again the new Leia he had come to know in the last several months. She was thinking again.
Suddenly seeming aware of the silence which stretched between them, Leia glanced up again at Luke's face before dropping her gaze to the floor. "Are we ready for this?"
Months ago – before Han's capture – she would never have voiced such a question. The Leia of old had been confident and assured. But since Bespin she had been hesitant and unsure, completely unlike herself. Han's fate at Vader and Jabba's hands had affected her more than she was willing to admit.
Luke reached forward and grasped her hand, squeezing it gently, imparting whatever comfort and reassurance he could. "We are ready," he affirmed, "or as ready as we will ever be. As long as we stick to the plan and trust in the Force, we will succeed."
Leia grimaced slightly at his words, but said nothing.
"Just remember," Luke continued, "we need you in place, ready to assist if my plan for dealing with Jabba doesn't work."
Leia shook her head. "I am still not certain this plan is such a good idea. You said yourself you only had a few months training with your Jedi Master… Are you sure you can pull this off?"
"I'm not certain of anything, Leia," Luke admitted. "But I know enough to put my trust in the Force. I've managed to influence the minds of some of the thugs we've run across in the last couple of months – I see no reason why it shouldn't work with Jabba as well. Hopefully, I can influence him to let us all go without the need for any of us to be put in danger."
Leia pulled her hand away from Luke's grasp and turned away. "I'm not certain I can do this, Luke."
"What?"
"Stay so close to him without doing anything. I know he's suffering, Luke – I can feel it."
"Leia…"
Leia whirled around to face him, a desperate pleading look in her eyes. "I love him, Luke," she began, strain evident in her voice. "I know this may hurt you and come as a shock, but you need to know the truth."
Strange they had spent all these months together and although he had known, they had never actually discussed her feelings for Han. At one time, such an admission would have brought a wave of unbearable pain, a time when he and his best friend had been involved in a friendly rivalry – never spoken of – for the affections of the dark-haired princess. But it had never come between their friendship. And even though he had been closer to Han than anyone else since he had met the smuggler in that dingy cantina in Mos Eisley, Luke would have done just about anything at one time to secure Leia's affections. Those times were long past – and the young, naïve and idealistic boy was gone with them.
"Leia, I know," he soothed.
"You do?" At his affirmative nod she continued, "And you are fine with it?"
A grin appeared on his face as he continued. "I don't actually have much choice, do I?" he teased lightly. Leia flushed and her face fell.
"Seriously, Leia," he continued, "I have known for quite some time – I would have to be blind not to see.
"I'm sorry, Luke," she whispered, her voice miserable. "I thought once that our relationship could develop into romance when we first met, but it never happened. I don't know how or why, but at some point I developed feelings for Han and I'm sorry, but I simply don't feel a romantic love for you. I never meant to hurt you."
Luke reached out and gently tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "You haven't hurt me, Leia. I realized some time ago that I love you – with all my heart. But I also realized that the love I felt for you – and I suspected the love you felt for me – was not a romantic love. You aren't breaking my heart; you are affirming my own feelings."
Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes as she listened to his confession and she caught him in a fierce embrace, her tears beginning to flow freely. "Thank you, Luke. I feel exactly the same way. I was afraid I had hurt you."
Luke did not reply – holding her as the tears slipped from her eyes to dampen his shirt was enough. He did not know why their relationship had not developed the way he had imagined the first time he had seen her, but he was happy that if she was not his to love, she had managed to secure the affections of the man in the galaxy he most looked up to.
"Don't worry about me, Leia," he assured her. "Besides, with all that Ben and Master Yoda have seen fit to dump on me – restoring the Jedi, confronting Vader and the Emperor – I doubt in the long run I will have time for someone in my life. She would always have to be second best."
Shocked, Leia pulled away and gave him an incredulous look. "Don't say that, Luke. You have so much love to give; I'm certain there is someone out there for you. Please don't talk like that."
Luke merely smiled and shrugged, not wishing to argue with her about something had had not really given much thought to. "I don't know. I think it's a little early to be thinking about this anyway… we still have to worry about defeating the Empire before thinking about a family. Not much of a family life when you're always on the run."
Leia nodded soberly, her gaze once again distant.
"So now you understand why I can't sit and do nothing while Han suffers," she continued at length.
"Leia," he admonished, "You will not do Han any good by getting yourself captured as well. Please, stick to the plan."
Leia's eyes lowered to the floor. "I will try, Luke."
Luke ached for Leia's misery. "I know how hard this is for you, Leia; it's just as hard for me, but Han would be the first to tell you not to risk yourself unduly. There will be risks enough for us all when we are in there – don't take it upon yourself to free Han and get yourself caught by Jabba. We need you undercover, in case this doesn't work out the way we've planned."
Apparently unable to trust her voice, Leia nodded, then leaned in and gave Luke a quick kiss on the cheek before hastily retreating from the room. Luke watched her – uneasy at the direction the conversation had taken. He would not put it past her to throw the entire plan out the window and attempt Han's rescue by herself, given half a chance. Still, he knew how she felt – he had had to restrain himself from doing the exact same thing on a number of occasions.
Shaking his head, he opened his pack and locating several remotes, grabbed them and left the hut to put his lightsaber to a much more strenuous test in the early evening light of the Tatooine suns.
Three days later, Luke entered Jabba's palace, eyes alert and wary for any sign of trouble. But the entrance was dark and empty, so secure was the gang lord in his reputation and power; his fortress was largely unguarded with the exception of the droid at the gate.
Of course, now the task was more difficult – though certainly not impossible – with Leia's capture, which he had known about as soon as it had happened, engaged as he was with tracking her Force presence as she progressed into Jabba's lair. Surprisingly, he had discovered reaching out to her presence was almost second nature, likely a consequence of their close friendship. Perhaps it would be worth further investigation to see if she had some Force sensitivity.
Suddenly, he felt the fleeting brush of another Force sense against his own, shocking him into immobility as he cast his senses around, attempting to trace the touch back to its source. Life on the planet was sparse and the only real concentration of life anywhere in the area was focused around the fortress. He allowed his sense to drift toward the throne room, assuring himself once again of Leia's presence and the fact that she was as of yet unharmed.
But where he would have expected to find only Leia's presence shining through the lesser lights gathered in the room, he instead was struck by the presence of another beacon through the Force – and this one positively glowed with Force potential. A quick, but subtle probe of the other person revealed nothing. Whoever it was, they had learned to shield their thoughts effectively, as his probe had met nothing but walls as strong as durasteel.
Calming himself, Luke once again opened himself to the Force, questing out toward the other presence, trying to obtain a general impression of the other's plans, motives. As before, the shields around the mind of the other person were impenetrable – he may as well have tried boring through to the center of Tatooine with nothing more than his fingers, for all the progress he was making. Instead, he shifted his focus, consulting the Force, attempting to gain an understanding of what this person may be here for, what effect they might have on his future. His sight blackened momentarily as he was swept away into the Force.
A beautiful face framed with flame-red hair materialized before his eyes. She spoke to him, her laughing green eyes shining as she leaned in for a kiss.
Luke staggered slightly as the vision ended, his eyes widening in shock. Laughing green eyes… he had never seen the face of the woman in his vision – it must be a vision of the future.
Was this a vision of the strange presence he felt in the throne room, or was this someone else he had yet to meet? As he had been trying to obtain a sense of the other's purpose, it would seem logical the vision had been directed at them. And was it a premonition of something to come, or only a possibility?
Always in motion, the future is, he heard the voice of Master Yoda echo in his head.
The thought sobered him – whatever the Force had been trying to tell him, the vision could not be set in stone. There would undoubtedly be many steps before he could arrive at the conclusion hinted at, many tangents in which the destiny foretold could veer off course – propel him to a completely different end.
And he suddenly realized that he wanted it – wanted the stability of a family, a home and the love of a woman – the woman of his vision. It was difficult, almost impossible to explain, but even though he had never met the woman whose face he had fleetingly glimpsed, he felt – sensed – that whoever the woman had been, he was connected to her in some unfathomable way. He thought back to his words to Leia… I doubt in the long run I will have the time for someone in my life. He had not been inspired by a premonition or prompting from the Force – merely the fearful insecurities of a young man bowed under by the weight of his responsibility and destiny. With the woman of his youthful infatuation pledged to another and forever beyond his reach and the burden of his responsibility as a Jedi weighing down on him, Luke had feared, perhaps unconsciously, the life of a husband and father would forever be denied.
What am I doing? Luke thought to himself angrily, ruthlessly reining in his careening daydreams. A brief vision of a woman I have never met and already I'm thinking marriage?
He was disgusted with himself for allowing his focus to slip in such a manner. Master Yoda was right – too many times his head was in the clouds, rather than focusing on the present. Luke closed his eyes and forced himself to consider the situation rationally; whatever the vision had been, he would be a fool to take it literally – it could mean anything, maybe even a warning against the woman. He would simply need to keep his attention focused on the present and deal with the vision when the situation arose.
Reaching out with his mind once again, Luke approached the presence in the throne room, trying to gauge its power and intentions. Whoever it was, it had a strength in the Force Luke had seldom felt in another. The Force sense was generally light, but within contained a roiling mass of grays and darker flecks – as though it was in conflict, although whether the conflict was internal or from outside sources he could not tell. Still, regardless of his inability to penetrate the barriers the other had in place, he could not detect any hint of malice or danger from the presence. It was certainly nothing like the presence of Darth Vader had been, nor did it seem to be associated with what he had come to understand was the dark side. Whatever they were here for, he could sense no danger.
Squaring himself, Luke continued his journey through the crime lord's fortress, willing his thoughts to remain on the goal. The first priority was to free his friends from Jabba's clutches.
As he made his way through the corridors of the fortress, two of Jabba's guards – burly disgusting Gamorreans – stepped out from the sides of the corridor and crossed their pikes in front of him. Annoyed at the delay, Luke raised his hand and applied a slight amount of pressure to the guards' throats, causing them to drop their pikes and stagger back toward the walls. Releasing them, Luke continued on his way, stalking past them without a backward glance. The Gamorreans did not follow.
Outside the throne room, Luke was once more met, this time by a tall Twi'lek with reddish eyes and a sickly pale skin tone, who again attempted to impede his passage.
"The great Jabba is asleep," the Twi'lek rasped in Huttese, fearfully glancing back at the Hutt, who was napping on his throne. The crime lord obviously did not take kindly to interruptions to his afternoon nap. "He has instructed me to tell you there will be no bargains."
Once again, Luke reached out, but this time he brushed up against the Twi'lek's mind and planted the suggestion of obedience. "You will take me to Jabba now."
The Twi'lek stopped and blinked, momentarily appearing confused. "I will take you to Jabba now."
Luke continued to murmur instructions to the dominated Twi'lek, playing to the creature's ego, telling him how well he was doing his job. But in his mind he noticed two things immediately. One was the princess. Leia was lounging in front of the loathsome beast, dressed in nothing more than a scanty dancing girl costume, chained at the neck, the other end firmly held by one of Jabba's massive fists. Although she was clearly anguished at her situation, Luke caught her eye briefly, willing her to be still and do nothing. She seemed to sense his thoughts and visibly calmed herself, sitting back to watch with glittering brown eyes.
The second thing he noticed was the presence he had felt earlier – it was strong and near, somewhere in this room. Walking up over a metal grating set in the floor in front of the massive slug's throne, Luke watched, assuring himself that the major domo was doing as he was being prodded, and turned his gaze to the right of the throne.
His gaze was immediately snared by the greenest pair of eyes he had ever seen. It was the woman of his vision – she was even more beautiful than she had appeared in his mind. Her eyes and perfectly smooth, creamy complexion was framed by a mane of pure fire – red and gold locks flowing freely down to the middle of her back, a silver circlet resting on her forehead, nestled among the enchanting curls. As he stared at her, he was taken back to the vision – he could almost see the light in her eyes as she regarded him, the curve of her lips and the feel of them as they pressed against his own, could hear the rich timbre of the sensual contralto he knew her voice would be. And as they gazed at one another, Luke could feel something pass between them, a connection the like of which he had never felt before – not even with Han or Leia. Whatever they were or may eventually be to each other, Luke in that instant knew with clarity that somehow their fates were bound to one another.
Whether this would end up a blessing or a curse, he could not say.
With an almost superhuman effort, Luke dragged his gaze away from the red-haired woman and turned his attention – shattered though his concentration was – back to the Hutt, who was busy chastising the unfortunate Twi'lek Luke had dominated for letting the Jedi into the room.
"I must be allowed to speak," Luke said, infusing his words with a suggestion from the Force.
When the Twi'lek repeated his words dutifully, Jabba seized him with one meaty paw. "You weak-minded fool, he's using an old Jedi mind trick," he growled in disgust, before hurling the major domo to the floor where he landed in an undignified heap.
Suddenly afraid his Force enhanced commands would not be enough, Luke reached out to the mind of the Hutt, noting the malignant alien intelligence, trying to force Jabba to his will. "You will bring Captain Solo and the Wookiee to me," he commanded, using every ounce of Force strength he could muster.
To his horror, the Hutt simply chuckled in response. "Your mind tricks will not work on me, boy. I am not affected by your human thought pattern."
"Nevertheless, I am taking Captain Solo and his friends," Luke declared, altering his plans. He knew that since he could not influence the Hutt's thinking, it was time to move to something else. The Hutt was egotistical and overconfident; Luke knew he could not resist arranging a truly dramatic death for his captives. Now was the time to goad him into it and thereby separate him from the bulk of his thugs.
"You can either profit by this, or be destroyed," Luke continued. "It's your choice, but I warn you not to underestimate my powers."
Once again Jabba chuckled and leered at the Jedi.
"Master Luke, you're standing…" Threepio began, but was silenced by one of Jabba's guards.
"There will be no bargain, young Jedi," Jabba continued. "But I will enjoy watching you die."
Moving with inhuman speed, Luke stretched out his hand and pulled a blaster from the holster of one of the guards. But as he aimed at Jabba, the crime lord slammed his fist down on the side of the throne and Luke felt the ground tip beneath him, his danger sense suddenly screaming at him – too late as it turned out. A nearby guard tumbled down into the hole beneath the grate, pulling a surprised Luke along with him.
As Luke fell, he caught a fleeting glimpse of the woman from his vision. Her face was stony and her eyes were like emeralds – hard and cold.
