A/N: Chapter modified for Matrixyness and Plot-conductivity...actually only for the latter. Thanks, lone reviewer!

Fourth Record...

The clamor of a bandoleer of thermal detonators falling to the floor invaded my brain. More clamor--each of us placed an explosive packet around the tall dark cylindrical shield generator. Deep in the struggling places of Imperial space, we fought like soldiers beyond our time. Most, like me, were topping off our teenage years. War-life would never end...a mop-up crew for the Great Battle, we were mopping up our innocence as well, it seemed...

With the demolitions team I hurried to our insertion point into this floating ring-station, a Corvette that would hook to an umbilical for seconds at a time, checking, in case, and then juke away again, in case. Still TIE fighters divorced from Carida tried to swarm us as, under Mon Mothma and Princess Leia's orders, we maneuvered war into peace by way of more war.

You think about that stuff long on the battlefield you get-- as the others rushed with me, all orange and weapons, interlinked comms silent now but for breathing, the warning lights began to wink red on the hatch ahead of us. Red; immediate evacuation.

Through the hustle people began running, not stormtroopers but others, small humans with vibroshivs and the like--they almost looked like us--someone sidled up to me and I turned and slapped the body of my blaster under his chin, cracking something. So lovely to exist/affect--"Get in!" I shouted, shrill, to all my little band. "Get in the ship!"

As we pressed forward another came at me and I tripped him, not far off but close, with self-defense holds, so that he fell in the line of the others hastening up the crowded passages, their attack like ours having lost all its element of surprise--I ducked and leapt into the airlock. It shivered and closed. I got off a shot at one of the mercs, but don't know if it hit.

Back at base, a forlorn place called Mas Lachyyk, I entertained myself by aiming to use the highest possible tools on the repair shelf.

I climbed from one iron bar to another, always heeding the balance of these platforms temporarily screwed into the three nearby stone walls. A LE repair droid walked in and turned its spherical head-casing up at me. "Do you need aid, miss?"

At least this one could tell I was a female...I arrogantly took one hand off the shelf to run my fingers through my cropped, fluffy hair, remembering that last incident. That had started a bad day too..."I'm fine."
I snagged the desired hydrospanner, swung out over the room on momentum, caught the nearest vertical strut with my free hand, and slid down twoan'half meters or so to the droid, having meant to do the dramatic entrance part but not the sliding down part.

Dramatic entrance because a young human courier was standing at the doorway behind the LE, pushing blue-black hair out of his small eyes. Probably a little younger than me, actually. He held a large commlink. "Neir-har-manpilot?"

"Yeah that's me." The LE sidled out.

"This is for you."

The comm was pretty ordinary looking, except for its casing-shape...had I seen Bothan spies tossing one of these back and forth, boasting of the Hush-86? SoroSuub spy tech? I had some look of confusion.

Militarily, the boy courier said "It's been checked for self-destruct mechanisms and foreign code only. Came in through high priority."

For me...?

'Ok. Ah, thanks."

We saluted and moved off.

On the way to my X-Wing--now people were preferring the A-Wings for new workings, but my current older model was practically friendly--I stuck the hydrospanner through one of my many belt loops and inspected the commlink. How did one even open one-way settings on these things...

As I stepped into my ship's docking square, the comm chimed.

I snapped it to my mouth. "Hello?..." Instinct tensed me.

The voice was male, implacable, and unknown to me. "Welcome back."

I swallowed the "What?" jumping into my throat. "Who are you?"

"The commlink is mine. It is very expensive--don't drop it."

I almost said "Yes sir." "Who are you."

"Look up."

I pulled my blaster and aimed it up at the ceiling before looking. A small natural walkway from storage catwalks arched to a emergency escape door just ahead of me.

"See the ladder against the wall."

It was just beyond my ship.

"Use it to get to that hatch."

"Why?" I moved the commlink down and started going toward the tech station in our thin cave base. But I lifted it again when the man spoke, his voice a little breathy and almost recognizable now.

"Not that way. You should know to do what a Jedi tells you."

I stopped immediately. Breathed. Ducked under my ship's nose on the way to the access ladder.

Following that voice, I looked down on our operation.

Small ships of all sizes nestled, constricted, in the tan-rock , raw but for the floors and some, caves. I--and Mon Mothma--didn't like this base. But the planet had air and life, so the Imps didn't expect us to take it for a staging point for raids on their capital ships going in and out of the Carida area. Our shields had held up enough so far, and Mas Lachyyk (not actually named by Wookiees) twirled with a convenient, sensor-facing twin. People moved down there, working or--a Twi'lek couple kissed against the near wall. My expression was allowed to curl in disdain and hurt. No male anything seemed inclined to work at breaking down my barriers.

"Open the hatch." said the commlink.

I did, and levered myself up blaster first, determined to surprise--no one was there on the plateau. Spires of rock, pulled up in the double world's turbulent forming, towered impossibly before the rocky view plunged into a final-seeing canyon on one side and a tame steppe, with green life on its dirt, on the other. "Where are you..." I growled quietly, frightened but--Jedi? What enemy would use a lie like that? So keyed to my recent dreams--

A laugh came form the commlink, a little uncontained. I turned around. In the distance--right up close--which?--stood a cloaked someone.

He moved the veil from my eyes. There was Commander Skywalker, wearing dark green and navy blue fatigues, the orange wristbands of a Special Forces leader, and a great black cloak. An awkward fear grew through me, and then a strange sense of coincidence or deja vu, or resolve, or, er, something...the really weird thing about it was that it erased the fear. The silver casing of a lightsaber (!) hung prominently against his right thigh.

I breathed, "Oh my deity."

Luke smiled. His face looked about the same as from Endor, almost scarred, wonderfully familiar. His eyes were darkened by the shadow of his cowl. He was just feet away from me, standing solid.

It would've been nice to have been able to form full sentences. "How..."

He reached out and touched my face, so light like wind. "Impressive, hmm?" His fingers trailed along the line of my jaw.

I stepped away abruptly, immediately, almost into fighting stance, old restrained unexpected anger leaping into play. "What are you trying to do to me? Ssstang--what are you?"

He spread his hands, bowed his head. "I'm sorry." A little fleet smile, normal. "I'm sorry you're not impressable any more."

I glared at him. He dare make me think--he dare touch me now--the dreams--I broke eye contact in favor of the ground. "I'm so vaping impressable."

"I know."

What's with the flirting, what's with the--what is it--what's with the existing? I almost shouted, "What do you want!"

"I have a proposition for you. Allow me to test you for Jedi potential. My sources note you have had an unusual number of close escapes in wartime." His voice had changed to rote, unhurt.

I pretended to count on my fingers the escapes. "Endor, the Instigator, Dantooine twice, what else?"

"Cy stop it please. I just want to talk."

I turned away a little. If the anger stopped I'd be so afraid-- "Don't touch me." It kept running through my head.

"Why."

I wanted to scream at him. He gently put a hand on my drooped shoulder and I shuddered. Why--I never understood why I will not be touched. Not when--

I sighed. He could vaping read my mind. I'd, notice, completely missed the part about Jedi potential. What romance does to you-- "I've still loved you for a while, Skywalker. But you didn't exist."

Pause. "I did. I've been so many--look at me Cy."

I wrenched my eyes to his.

Softly he said, "Wouldn't you drown?"

A tear took a track down my cheek. He was...the chronicles had turned to ashes and pits. I threw my arms around his shoulders for his sake. The combination of intrigue and this...incredible loneliness felt so wonderful to emotion-starvation.

He calmly enfolded me. My protests dissolved, I savored everything.

In a time he held me at arm's length. "I've put in all the necessary papers. Come with me to Yavin Four?"

I had to laugh for no reason. "Back to Yavin?"

"I'm starting a Jedi school there. You have the power we need. And..." He rippled into my mind, as if my thoughts had a section like a pool of water. the consolation I finally need.

I turned away for a moment, just to prove that I could, to what, escape any glamour and espy any treachery?

I nodded. "Sure."