The Reluctant Jedi
Standard fanfic disclaimer that wouldn't last ten seconds in a court of law: these aren't my characters, I'm just borrowing them for, um, typing practice. That's it, typing practice. I'll return them to their actual owners (relatively) undamaged. This is an amateur work of fiction; no profit beyond pleasure was derived from the writing. Originally published in Our Favorite Things #25, by Elan Press. Based on characters and situations created by Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, Jean Lorrah, and Chris Clairemont.
The Reluctant Jedi
Star Trek: the Next Generation/Star Wars
Susan M. M.
Chapter 2
"O sweet Vree," Guinan swore. "A Jedi."
Suddenly she felt a familiar vibration, heard a familiar hum. Seconds later, the four of them – and the two 'droids – were in Enterprise's Sickbay.
"Oh, my goodness! Where are we?" Threepio asked.
"On our ship." Guinan led C-3PO out of the way as Dr. Crusher barked orders to her staff. The El-Aurian pushed the button on the wall intercom. "Sickbay to Bridge. We're back safely and Dr. Crusher is attending to the patients. Captain, that ship can't take much more."
"Understood, Guinan. Picard out."
" 'Droid. Artoo. Come here," Guinan ordered. "C'mon, let's give the doctors room to work." The barrel-shaped robot rolled obediently to her side. She turned the viewscreen on and adjusted the controls so it mirrored the main screen on the Bridge. Conqueror loomed in the starry sky: Millennium Falcon wilted under the cruiser's vicious attack. In the distance, another, smaller ship appeared.
"Oh, no, we're being surrounded," Threepio cried out.
"No, that's one of ours," Guinan corrected him quietly. "I just hope they're not too late."
Artoo squealed. Guinan and the 'droids watched in horror as the Falcon glowed incandescently. Her shields flared. And the ship exploded.
"Oh, no."
"The princess – the general – Chewbacca."
"Che-urp!"
Behind them came a mechanical hum, followed by three loud, undignified plops. Guinan whirled to see two human and a large, hairy anthropoid sprawled on the floor.
"Your Highness! You're all right!" Threepio exclaimed joyfully.
"I'm not sure." The petite brunette rose cautiously, looking around her.
"What the hell happened?" demanded a tall man, in a Corellian accent. He was handsome, in a rugged, roguish sort of way.
The Wookiee roared.
"Captain, Millennium Falcon's crew has beamed aboard," Guinan reported.
"Oh, no." Han Solo stared at the viewscreen at the fading light and the debris. "Not my ship. Not the Falcon." He swore quietly.
Chewbacca howled.
"Is this the Enterprise?" the dark-haired woman demanded. At Guinan's nod, she continued, "I am Princess-Senator Leia Organa of Alderaan. We request sanctuary."
Before Guinan had a chance to answer, the door slid open. Worf and Riker stepped inside. They approached the force field separating the quarantine unit from the rest of Sickbay.
Riker, a dark-haired, bearded human in his mid-thirties, introduced himself. "I'm Commander William Riker, First Officer of the Enterprise. This is Lt. Worf, our Chief of Security."
"Senator Leia Organa," she replied. "Allow me to present General Han Solo and his aide, Chewbacca. Your medical staff is attending to General Calrissian and Commander Skywalker."
A whole lot of chiefs – where are the Indians?, Riker wondered.
"As a member of the Imperial Senate and an emissary of the Alliance of Free Planets, I claim diplomatic immunity for myself and my crew. I request sanctuary from Conqueror," Leia stated with calm dignity.
"Why was Conqueror attacking your ship?" Worf wanted to know.
"We are at war with the Empire. At least, we were. Not all the imperials are willing to admit the war is over," the princess told him.
"We can deal with the diplomatic and political arrangements after our medical staff has had a chance to look you over. I hope you don't mind being confined to the quarantine unit for the time being; it's as much for you protection as ours," Riker said.
Leia nodded. "I understand, Commander. We would observe the same precautions were the circumstances reversed."
"Lt. Worf and I will try to make you as comfortable as possible. Captain Picard will want to speak to you in person after he's finished dealing with Conqueror," promised Riker.
Han Solo looked up, brown eyes blazing angrily. "Deal with? He let those bastards destroy my ship!"
"Easy, Han," Leia soothed. She knew how much the Falcon had meant to him, but after witnessing the destruction of her homeworld, she found it difficult to grieve over the loss of one ship.
"Guinan, the captain would like your report as soon as you finish with decontamination. In the meantime, Senator, may we offer you some refreshments?"
Leia smiled. She had been a diplomat too long not to recognize stalling when she heard it. "That would be very kind of you, Commander."
**** ST: TNG/SW **** ST:TNG/SW **** ST:TNG/SW ****
"We're engaged in a staring match against Conqueror." Picard sat in his ready room, sipping a cup of Earl Grey. "Temujin fired a warning shot close enough to singe their feathers, so they've decided to settle down … at least for now."
"When will Boadicea arrive?" Guinan asked.
"Not for 24 hours, at best possible speed. More likely 36 – we weren't scheduled to meet her for two days yet. We were lucky Temujin was ahead of schedule." He looked up at her. "I want to know everything about these people. Why didn't you ever mention them to us before?"
"I haven't been in the Galactic Republic in years, Jean-Luc. And we're light-years – light-decades – away from them. Solo must've gotten good and lost to wind up in the Federation." Guinan took a sip from her own cup. "There are seven of them: Leia Organa, Han Solo, Lando Calrissian, Luke Skywalker, Chewbacca, and two robots. Organa claims to be both a princess and a senator. She says Solo and Calrissian are generals, and Skywalker's a commander."
"Claims? You don't believe her, then?"
"Actually, I do. It's just there are pieces of her story that don't fit."
"Explain," the captain ordered. He'd learned to trust her judgment.
"If she's Leia Organa, then she's telling the truth about being a princess and a senator, as well as having diplomatic immunity. The Organas are the royal family of Alderaan; the whole clan is noted for their dedication to duty and their ethics. There's a proverb in the Inner Worlds: 'as honest as an Organa.' However, that ship she was referring to as a 'consular vessel' looked like an old freighter to me. And her pilot is Corellian."
"Just what does that mean?"
"Corellians, by their own admission, are the best pilots in the galaxy. You see, Corell is surrounded by asteroid fields, and it's between two major trade routes, so the planet is something of a haven for smugglers," Guinan explained. "It's even money that a Corellian flying a freighter is a smuggler."
"Politics makes strange bedfellows," Picard quoted.
"Uh-huh. Especially if they're at war. Princess Leia said the Alliance of Free Planets was at war with the Galactic Empire, but the Empire wouldn't admit the war was over."
Picard raised an eyebrow at that.
Guinan continued, "I could see where a background in smuggling could come in handy in a wartime situation. It's not impossible for a smuggler to be a general. Odd, but not impossible. If she's telling the truth. I think she is, and I'm usually a pretty fair judge of character. But when I left, the Galactic Republic was one body, ruling most of 'known space.' I never heard of either the Galactic Empire or the Alliance of Free Planets. And the princess referred to herself as a member of the Imperial Senate." She looked her friend and captain in the eye. "I think there's been some sort of civil war."
"That fits with the little I managed to get out of Jeljurr." Picard bowed his head and rested it in cupped hands. "Getting stuck in the middle of someone else's civil war is the last thing I needed today. I find Jeljurr obnoxious, but he may well be right. If the senator and her party are just criminals – political terrorists of some sort – then we should turn them over to him, and possibly see about opening relations with his empire."
"There's a very fine line between freedom fighters and terrorists," Guinan reminded him. "One person's liberation is another person's treason."
"I know." The captain massaged his temples wearily, remembering his CMO's recent abduction by Ansata separatists on Rutia IV, and his mediation between the Gatherers and their estranged homeworld, Acamar III, not long before that. "If I acknowledge the senator's claims of diplomatic privilege – if she's entitled to them, which I have no way of knowing – then –"
"If she's a member of the Senate, she does," Guinan interrupted.
"Then I can't turn her down," he continued. "But again, I don't know the situation. And I don't know what Conqueror's weapons capability is. I do know that Jeljurr's aggressive and unafraid. Can I risk my crew's lives for a handful of strangers who may well be fugitives from justice?"
"If it makes a difference, Jean-Luc, one of the wounded men is a Jedi."
"What the devil is a Jedi?"
She smiled, as if remembering something. "Either heroes or meddling busybodies, depending on whom you ask. For millennia, the Jedi knights have been the self-appointed guardians of peace and justice in the Galactic Republic. The fact that a Jedi's traveling with her says something about Leia Organa and her cause."
"To you, at least. I still don't have enough information for a valid assessment. Not for something that could affect the Federation so drastically."
"Have Deanna talk to them," she suggested, "especially Skywalker."
Picard nodded; it was good advice. "Guinan, is there anything else you've neglected to tell us about?"
Her brown eyes twinkled, at once merry and wise, as she thought of the Kobolese colonies, and twin-mooned Lyra, and dull and distant Gallifrey. "Space is vast, Captain, and I like to travel."
" 'There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio', " he quoted softly.
"Exactly."
"I'd appreciate it if you'd continue to act as liaison to the senator and her people until we get this straightened out," Picard requested. "I may need you to assist on translations with Jeljurr."
"Certainly, Captain." She picked up her cup and drained it. "If you'll excuse me, I'll go check up on our guests."
Picard nodded, more in agreement than as a dismissal. Once Guinan was out of his ready room, he called Sickbay for Dr. Crusher's report.
**** ST:TNG/SW **** ST:TNG/SW **** ST:TNG/SW ****
Han was sitting on the bed. He looked up when Leia entered the cabin. "How'd it go?" he asked.
"Stalemate." The princess walked to his side, took his hand in hers, and gently kissed his cheek. "Captain Picard acknowledges the fact we claim diplomatic immunity, but until he knows more about the Alliance and the Empire, he refuses to grant it. However, he's not ready to turn us over to Conqueror yet."
"So are we guests or prisoners?" the Corellian demanded half-heartedly.
"Luke and Lando are guests. Picard promised he won't do anything to them one way or the other until it's safe to release them from Sickbay. You, Chewie, and I are in limbo." She jutted her chin at the door. "And there's a guard outside this cabin."
Han swore.
"How are Luke and Lando doing?" she asked.
"Lando's critical. They wouldn't let me anywhere near him. Luke's not as bad as we thought. The doc said they got to him just in time to prevent any scarring from the burns." He sounded distracted, as though he were preoccupied.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just a couple of bumps and bruises."
"That's not what I meant, Han." She sat beside him on the bed and ran a finger down his left cheek. "I'm sorry about the Falcon. I know how you felt about her."
"Damn it, Leia, I know she was just steel and circuits, and broken half the time anyway, but –" He stopped, unable or unwilling to express his feelings. Leia pretended not to notice the tears welling up in his eyes. After a moment, he continued, "I guess the important thing is we all got out alive. Wonder how the hell that transporter of theirs works."
Leia recognized an attempt to change the subject when she heard one. "I don't know. I got the impression all the information Picard gave me was the sort of stuff you'd get from a press release. All very generic – certainly nothing classified, which I assume that transporter is. I filled him in on the Alliance of Free Planets (I may have made us sound a little more stable than we are at the moment) and the Rebellion, and he told me about their Federation. It sounds a little like the Old Republic."
"Will they help us?"
"I don't know." Leia was more worried than she wanted to admit. If Picard believed Jeljurr's claims that they were outlaws and traitors (which, technically, they were) and allowed them to be extradited back to the Empire, they'd be executed. Probably the minute they set foot on Conqueror's decks, unless Jeljurr wanted to make an example of them and take them back for the spectacle of a mock-trial.
Leia shivered. She had no desire to be a martyr for the Rebellion. Not any more, not now that she'd found Han. After Alderaan's destruction, General Dodonna had often scolded her for undertaking so many dangerous missions herself, rather than delegating them to subordinates. But now that she'd discovered the brother she'd never known existed and found that she herself had the makings of a Jedi, now that she'd learned the cold, mercenary smuggler was also a passionate lover, a trustworthy friend, a gentle sweetheart … she no longer sought martyrdom. She had too much to live for.
Even if Picard agreed to shelter them, they'd be refugees, with no way to get home and nothing but the clothes on their backs. Without the Millennium Falcon's nav-computers, they had no way of knowing where home was. Not to mention being completely dependent on the Federation's mercy and charity, Leia thought despairingly. It would take every trick of rhetoric the Senate had taught her to persuade Picard to help them. If she failed .… I don't dare fail, she realized.
***** ST:TNG/SW ***** ST:TNG/SW ****** ST:TNG/SW *****
Slowly, Luke Skywalker turned his head when he heard the knock on the door. "Come," he called.
The door slid open. An attractive brunette, perhaps ten years his senior, stepped inside. "Hello, my name is Deanna Troi. Do you feel up to visitors?"
"Sure." He tried to smile, then winced. The healing gel smeared over his burned skin had not had enough time to finish its work. "Come on in."
"Your friend Chewbacca tells me you were burned saving General Calrissian's life."
"Well, Lando couldn't get out of the way of the fire, what with his arm broken and his sprained ankle not all the way healed yet, and I was the closest." Luke tried to dismiss any implications of heroism. Then he realized what she had said. "Chewbacca told you? You speak Wookiee?"
"No, but Guinan reprogrammed your interpreter, See-Threepio, to speak our language, and he translated for me." The universal translator had been unable to handle the howls and roars of the Wookiee language. "Guinan is … a woman of many talents," Troi added.
"Not that many non-Wookiees can speak the language," Luke explained. In point of fact, he'd only known two: Han Solo and Obi-wan Kenobi. "Han understands it, but he can't pronounce it properly. At least, that's what Chewie says, but I'm not sure how much he's teasing and how much is serious."
"You don't speak his language?" Troi was glad that the Federation had Amanda Grayson's universal translator. Her insignia comm-unit's microcircuits tied into the universal translator, making this conversation possible.
Luke shook his head.
"Isn't it difficult being his shipmate, then, if you can't talk to him?" Troi asked.
"Most of the time I can catch his drift just tone and mood," Luke told her. "If not, Han or Threepio translate."
"I am also told you are something called a Jedi. I'm curious. Could you tell me about that?" Deanna opened her senses to the fullest as she listened to his answer.
"The Jedi knights are a brotherhood, an order, of beings from thousands of different worlds who use the Force to maintain peace and justice." He grinned sheepishly. "Sounds a little melodramatic, doesn't it?"
Troi felt regret and grief as he spoke. "You used force to maintain peace? That sounds a contradiction."
"Not force, the Force. My first teacher described it as 'what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together.' A Jedi can learn to feel the life-energy of the galaxy as a tangible thing, and tap into it and manipulate it. Sorry, that sounds even more melodramatic."
"I would never argue with someone else's religion," Troi reassured him.
"It's more than just a religion. It's, well, it's hard to explain. Anyway, that's who and what the Jedi are. Or were." He sighed. "I'm the last."
"The last?"
Troi and Luke looked up to see Guinan standing in the doorway.
"There were thousands of Jedi – hundreds of thousands. How can they be reduced to only one?" she demanded. And him barely more than an apprentice.
"When the Republic fell, the emperor hunted down and destroyed every Jedi he could find. He was assisted by a renegade Jedi, an apostate who'd turned to the Dark Side of the Force," the young man answered.
Troi sensed grief and anger within the last Jedi as he spoke of the renegade, the sorrow mixed with hatred … and love.
"I may not be the last Jedi," he admitted, "but now that my teacher Yoda is dead, I'm the only one we know of. Maybe there are others still in hiding somewhere, still afraid of the Empire."
Master Yoda – dead? Guinan controlled the shock she felt. "Not to change the subject," she lied, "but Dr. Crusher says you can come out and join the others so long as you don't overtire yourself."
End of Chapter 2
Author's Note: The fact that Spock's mother invented the universal translator came from the fanfiction of Dr. Jean Lorrah.