(Onboard Cerulean, Central Lounge; 4.3 ABY)
"Sen was holding a syringe when I limped through the infirmary's front door. You know, the standard medtech routine."
Luke watched as she brushed aside a sweep of light golden bangs from her forehead. He still found the gesture endearing. Cala always tried to hide any signs of vulnerability around others, yet the tough girl facade would sometimes fall away. It was nice to see one element in a chaotic universe which remained untouched.
He glanced out the long panel of transparisteel which served as a window to the immediate universe. They had retreated to the central lounge so they could catch up on personal affairs, only after they had taken her daughter to a temporary nursery. The sight of an infant being laid down in a makeshift bed fashioned out of a packing crate was unusual, even in the midst of a refugee crisis. Seeing the young woman who once swore on multiple falling stars that she would never reproduce placing a five-month old baby into that crate was astounding.
"When I bummed up my ankle, then I met someone who didn't know how I was gonna relate to within five seconds."
"Like me, huh?"
"I knew right away how to deal with you. Blue-eyed flyboys are easy to figure out."
He chuckled. "What brought us together?"
"We all heard about the wonder kid who blew up the Death Star. When I saw you near the X-Wing, it seemed like the perfect time to head over and see if you were real."
"I wasn't an illusion."
"Obviously." Cala looked at her feet. "Although I must've seemed like a nightmare coming along with these boots."
"They were a nice calling comm when you came over to say hello. You were standing on the ladder, but all I could see were those boots."
"It was a decent view?"
"After I popped my head out from the hyperdrive compartment, sure. Then I got to see the rest of you."
"Hey, it was these boots that got me into the infirmary. Figures that spiky heels and muddy terrain don't work in harmony." Cala scratched absently at one of the scars still in the healing stage which ran zigzag along her elbow. Wounds on skin, wounds in the psyche, all were signs of damage inflicted that might fade away, or would remain as undesired reminders.
"So that's how you met Sen."
"Yep. He was doing an infirmary rotation because the real doctors hadn't gotten to Aurora yet. Any being with more than three hours' training in anatomy were put on duty to help out the Too-Onebee with the basics." She tapped on the transparisteel window. "He'd been awake for twelve hours, and just quaffed down his sixth mug of caf when Stupid Me comes hobbling in. Not-Quite-Doctor Diour was grouchy, and I wasn't swimming through jubilation either. After he stuck me in the arm, I bit his head off—"
"And a love affair was born," Luke concluded. The fleeting vision of a rough-hewn square room stuffed with shelves and boxes appeared in his mind. Only two people were in this space: Cala, seated on a standard hovercot, and a man, standing off to the left, leaning against a chair. Empathy had provided him with a glimpse into Cala's first meeting with Sen Diour.
"Despite the rough start, he decided to come by and check on his patient. He was definitely a good healer."
"You were together pretty much from day one?"
"By the end of the first month, we got one collapsible double bed and wound up sharing a 'fresher the size of a broom closet."
"Yet you never got married."
"Sen asked me a few times. But I couldn't do it." She twisted a small coil of hair tightly around her index finger. "That was a mistake."
"Do you think saying yes would have prevented his death?"
She trembled. He felt the ripples of sadness and grief fall into the center of his soul. It could seem ridiculous to believe that one decision might be responsible for someone's death. But he understood the feeling; it took him weeks to completely do away with the idea that it was his fault Han was put into carbonite. Every so often, his conscience still flickered with recriminations about leaving Owen and Beru to be murdered by the stormtroopers. Random flashes of guilt, often in the quiet of night, would come and go like ghosts.
"No. Of course I couldn't know he was going to...I'm not in touch with the Force like you." There was only a slight indication of bitterness in her voice.
"It can't tell me everything. Not all those facts I really need to know, and when I really need to know them."
"Like the future."
"Especially the future. I've had visions of events before they happened. Knowing ahead of time doesn't mean you're ever prepared when that thing comes along...if it actually takes place."
"Pessimistic, aren't you?"
"It's true." Luke felt a twinge of despair after he let this comment out into the aether. Could he truly believe there was nothing to be done which could make anyone create their own reality? Did the Force have such power over all matter in the universe that it could act as some divine counterweight against a being's desires?
"That's not the only truth in the universe. Let me tell you another one." She leaned forward, hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Imagine that you never knew anything about your father. You've got some physical characteristics in common, maybe some personal traits as well. If you're really lucky, then you get to share a last name too." Cala's voice was soft: not quite a whisper, more like a prayer. "Neha's got his eye color...basic gray...kind of blue in sunlight." She swallowed back tears. "That's all she can ever know about him. My daughter has Sen's eye color and the surname." Her right hand tightened into a fist. "I've only got one datastick left, with all the holos we took before the invasion. Images are nice, but those aren't enough to make him real when Neha gets older."
Luke wanted to help Cala. But there was nothing in the universe to ease her pain. Hope could turn into poison; any orphan, even if they had some shred of good fortune to still have one parent, knew the pain of loss, of someone who could never be in the child's life. Words could start under the best intentions, yet fall short of comfort.
But he had to say something, anything, that might give her a little bit of comfort.
"Tell her everything about Sen." Luke reached out and stroked his fingers across the back of her hand. "Let her know about your first meeting. Tell her all those details to make her father more than a memory."
"Is that really enough? I had datapads full of my parents' manifestos, and they still felt like myths." A weary sigh escaped from her lips. "Only things I ever heard were bad; my grandfather spent more time blathering on about Dad's affairs, and Mom's spice addiction. They were both miserable."
He reached and grasped both her hands. "You and Sen had a good relationship. There won't be anything bad she'll ever need to know."
Cala nodded. "Just make it up as I go. Maybe when I get back to Ghorman, I can figure out a better solution."
There it was, the ending he knew was inevitable before he asked to come along on the retrieval mission. They had divided fates, same as always. She would go home and start another life. His immediate future was...different...and lonely.
Separate destinies were meant to carry them apart; any vague hope of trying to recapture fragments of their cozy union, back when love seemed possible, was gone. He was a Jedi, destined to become the leader of a new Jedi Order. There was no space or time for distractions, particularly matters of the heart.
Luke tried to put the matter aside, now that he acknowledged an unfortunate truth. But part of his mind would not let go...there was still a desire to have a life with another person. Sooner or later, it would be the perfect time to meet someone and fall in love. What about his feelings for Cala...?
She stood up, long enough to sit down next to him in the little space on the window seat. "I still adore you."
He smiled. Yes, that was the answer. Adoration was a different kind of love; strong and vibrant, joyful, but not possessive. They would always adore each other, no matter the distance or years.
Cala snuggled against him, placing her chin on his shoulder. "Funny, everything out there always seems peaceful. Wars are fought, governments come and go, but none of that makes any difference to them."
Luke placed his arm around her shoulders. "It's like they're keeping vigil, maybe recording events for posterity."
Just like the old days...whenever they were on a planet with a grand vista, they would sit like this, curled up together. Stolen moments with nothing to do except gaze out upon night skies teeming with stars, or day skies alight with radiant suns.
He turned his gaze back out the viewport. There was nothing left to say, for now. The blue and green orb called Aurora rotated almost imperceptibly, alone in the midst of silence.
The past is past, and the future...