Third Entry

Endor was the most chaos I have ever experienced. I came down gasping for breath, squished in a corner on the short, tangled tube of my mask because sealant was flapping open on the other side of the cockpit. That was a fun ride down into the forest, hoping to land cleanly or at least directly into the enemy. I felt angry, concerned, futilely unable to know half of what was going on.

My zippy A-Wing jerkily set down, nose toward a valley clustered heavier with towering trees. The Death Star sat high in the sky as I clambered out when the shields settled and cooled metal skin. A wind swept over me then, hot and disturbed. The Death Star was enfolded in a globe of yellow sparks. I tensed, and then screamed with joy as that lurking shape in the sky faded to detritus and emptiness.

When Yaz finally picked me up--my emergency beacon, but not comm, functioned--shards and sparks were falling in little storms out of the atmosphere.

No one said there were native sentients on Endor. They were not what we expected, these 'Ewoks', who worshipped trees and cooed over anything shiny, that could fly or fight Imps and put our squadrons up in their expansive, amazing, daring tree-houses.

I danced, with Yaz or alone to my exultance, in the music and the relief, in the cool evening. Holorecorders were going off all over, and pilot's helmets were thrown in the air to clatter underfoot or over the edge of the railing.

Luke kept apart too. I saw him just staring into space for a time--now, Commander and Jedi Knight. I'd just heard things about him, until the Death Star briefing room when he came in late with eyes only for Leia Organa, and General Solo's mission.

Real pity I didn't have a title yet. Subcommander of Blue Group, until my crash, as of the present, and that didn't count.

Skywalker looked different from all of us, hooded and cloaked from the sadness in his stance. I found him thus, standing apart from the others. After a time I came up next to him, and he turned when I so hesitantly touched his arm, showing none of the surprise some did at my quiet, unannounced arrivals. I said, "Everyone will know your name now."

"They should know all of ours. You're all heroes." He was speaking so quietly.

I smiled, sheepish. Didn't feel much like a hero. "I crashed just before the Death Star exploded." But it exploded! What mattered! Part of me said this. Pause. "And they're saying you killed the emperor."

He looked...old. He was but a few years older than me, by standard, and now his eyes spoke histories of...sadness? Knowledge? Emotion? Funny how those all look the same. "No." He said. "I'll tell you, but no questions."

I nodded.

"Darth Vader killed the emperor."

My mind reeled. Why? I caught myself from saying. No questions, he wanted. Except one was military-minded. "So is Vader still alive?"

"No." And for some reason he said this with utter quiet sadness. No questions.

We stood there together for a while. It felt silly, after all this time, to find him just another one of the acquaintances of war, but I thought he might think something special of me. I knew I always wanted, or wanted to be, the hero. But I had not grown an inch toward heroic, in deed or literal stature, and here was Luke speaking to me as if no days had gone by since Hoth and the last time I saw him.

I said, because not many of 'them' had been speaking of this and it thrilled in me, "So you are a Jedi? You can, read minds and all of it?"

He laughed a little. For some reason we were being quiet, letting the partying cover up our tones. Then he nodded. "I can sense emotion." He turned away a little, hands on the crude and beautiful wooden railing. "I sense you could love me."

So plain was the surprise that I wasn't all that surprised. Yes, sour fear came, but I only needed to say " I could. But you were the greatest of my denials."

He turned around and took my hands. His right was gloved, another barrier between us, and I wondered dully what had happened to him. "I could love you. But not now." Even still his eyes questioned what I would say, what I would do. "I can't feel anything." he said. "I can see emotions, but not feel anything."

And I knew how this felt, from a long time ago when my parents moved to opposite ends of the planet. Often times I could not feel anything– as he spoke of and as he hurt, and it takes a great darkness to do that. I think I nodded. I think I moved closer to him.

"But I would give you a dance." Luke said, bright and mortal again.

I didn't know how to dance, not anything that could be done with Commander Luke! I stammered, "But I erm don't,.." and he turned away. Released my hands slowly, in a drama I would remember for a long time.