There was no mistaking the sound of a ship, and to Luke's practiced ears, even after being away for so long, there was no mistaking the special noise of the Millennium Falcon. Han was making an unexpected visit.
The class of course heard it too, and Luke lost all their attention. They were glad for the break in monotony, and really he couldn't blame them. Luke had a lot of memories of being a child.
He held up his prosthetic hand, to work its magic. The class looked at him, mouths open. Some said, "oooh."
He had a glove for it, and usually kept it covered. But he had discovered recently the shiny metal of delicate, replicated fingers fascinated children. The prosthetic, more than anything else, is what made Luke The Master. It lent him an air of mystery; spoke of the experience of nightmares, always a profound part of childhood; and whenever the children saw it, they thought he was a badass. Not other times, as far as Luke could tell, which was interesting and no doubt meant something, but he'd have to think about that later; they kept him pretty busy.
But for now, in their youth, his prosthetic hand commanded their imaginations and attention. "Alright, alright," he told them, wiggling the metal fingers a bit. "Do you want to go outside and see General Solo?" The class cheered. "Then get your coats on. It's cold out there."
He smiled to himself as he waited for his students to ready themselves for the outdoors. They got so excited. Some were jumping up and down, one was lunge-walking across the room and shouting, "yeah" in as deep a voice as his young larynx allowed. At twenty-eight years old, Luke was long past childhood, but he remembered how thrilling it was for something different to happen, and he let the class indulge themselves.
Han was waiting outside. A crate was at his feet. He wore the Alliance great coat buttoned, and he cut a dashing figure. The only thing moving was his hair blowing in the wind. Luke checked his charges once more, ensuring their coats were all on properly. The crisp wind went through his own thin sleeves. The glove was back over his prosthetic hand, but that didn't feel the cold. Luke had lost its pair a long time ago.
"I'm sorry about your robes, Master Skywalker," one of the little boys said. He was human, one of Luke's disruptive kids. Not a bad kid. Luke hadn't decided if the child was bored or hadn't been taught to not act on his impulses. He needed to decide, because today he had learned the boy was inordinately talented.
Sometimes Luke thought he learned more from his students than they did from him.
He gave the chubby boy a gentle squeeze with his right hand, which happened to both be his dominant and prosthetic one. "Do you feel I am cold, Little Master?" he asked.
The boy nodded.
"That's very kind of you. We'll talk more about my robes later." He let the boy feel a tiny shove through the Force, pushing him towards Han.
The youngsters crowded around, cheeks turning ruddy in the cold air. They greeted General Solo cheerfully, a frequent visitor, and jumped about, asking him what he had brought.
"Little Masters, walk around and find something yellow," Luke instructed his young charges. He wanted a few moments alone with Han. Something yellow shouldn't be too hard to find. The leaves of the trees had changed color and fallen to the ground; most were brown but there were some that retained the red or yellow color they displayed before they dropped from the tree. And beyond where Luke liked to teach, past the big boulder, there was a patch of yellow flowers.
He hugged Han, looked him in the eyes. They were warm and wary, in between brown and green. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Luke asked, the formality of his language ruined by his huge grin.
Han lowered his eyes to indicate the crate. "Brought you something."
"How's Leia? She couldn't come?"
"She wanted to. Had a bag packed. But then a Bothan had to start a slide in diplomatic alliances."
"Ah, too bad," Luke sympathized. "That same one? What's his name- Fey'la?"
Han nodded. "Remember the good old days when so many Bothans died to bring us some important information?"
He had telegraphed the joke, or maybe Luke just knew him so well. "And you wish he was one of them. What'd you bring?"
"Life would be easier. I don't know how he got elected." Han opened the crate and Luke peered in. "And you'd see your sister more."
"Someone's always around to make life difficult," Luke said wisely. "It used to be you."
Han growled at him, "Very funny."
"It might still be you," Luke considered aloud, wondering what Han was thinking with the latest delivery.
Luke welcomed anything he could use at the Academy for the Force-Sensitive. But at first he blinked and arranged his face so it remained friendly yet neutral.
It was balls. The crate was crammed full with them.
Balls, Luke thought. Balls? He scratched his head. It wasn't very sensible. But as perplexing as it was, it sure did have Han Solo written all over it.
For one, the crate contained- not a dozen, not a couple dozen- several hundred dozen. Luke stared at the balls, his inner voice saying loudly and slowly so his brain understood how crazy it was. General Solo had purchased a huge quantity of balls for eight children.
"It's kind of a lot," Luke told Han.
Han was obviously satisfied with his present. He toed the crate with a recently polished boot. "Fool was betting-"
"What fool?"
"- these would be the next fad. Motion balls. They detect movement when you get close and bounce away."
"I have eight students," Luke reminded his brother-in-law.
"They're impossible to catch. He practically gave them away," Han said smugly.
"Where am I supposed to store them?" Luke wondered.
Han shrugged, unconcerned. "Half'll be in the lake before dinner."
Luke took in the presence of his friend. They'd known each other almost ten years now. Han didn't do much without a reason, and true, often his reasoning was spontaneous and not logical, but he wasn't just dropping by. Unless the motion ball deal was that good.
His thoughts were interrupted by a roar from Chewie, coming muffled from inside the Falcon.
"Yeah," Han shouted over his shoulder. "And do something for this fool, would ya?"
Luke looked around. "Me?"
"Yeah. You usin' the Force against the weather?"
"What do you mean?"
Chewie came down the ramp bearing a blanket. Han gestured at Luke's thin shirt. "You telling me you ain't cold?"
Luke smiled and waved at Chewie. "No, I would never do that. Lesson one: The Force grants you a power, but it doesn't make you powerful. Thanks, Chewie," he laughed as the Wookiee draped the blanket over his shoulders and then proceeded to drape his long, furry arms around him in a squeezing hug.
"I just dashed out," he explained. "We don't get visitors often."
"You're the one who picked the middle of nowhere."
"Almost nowhere. I'm glad to see you. Surprised, too. Don't you have a deployment coming up?" Luke asked Han. His sister Leia had told him the fleet was going on a peace mission. The fifth anniversary of the fall of the Empire was approaching, and the New Republic was going to celebrate with a show of force.
Not Luke's kind of Force. He was quite content to have resigned from the Alliance.
"Few days or so." Han was inexact, rather ungeneral-like.
Chewie seemed to grow bored with the conversation and gave Luke a ruffle of the hair before joining the Little Master class at play.
"And you guys have your anniversary to look forward to," Luke kept on chatting. Any New Republic holiday always brought to Luke's mind the romance of Han and Leia. War paralleled it, made it difficult but also strong, and they had wed not long after victory was declared.
The thought brought an involuntary smile to Han's lips. "Still thinkin' what to get her."
Luke reached into the crate and immediately there was a mass of wriggling toys. "How about a motion ball? I'll share."
Han smiled. "Nah, you enjoy."
"Hey, Little Masters," Luke called out to his students. The children all thought he didn't know their names, but that wasn't true. He just only called them all Little Master, because that's what they were.
They dropped their collection of yellow where they stood and came running.
This was Luke's first class, and they were together two years now. It was a very slow start to reintroducing the concept of the Force, but Luke had made a few important realizations after the Empire fell and the ways of the Jedi were free to return.
First of all, there was only Luke that in the past twenty years had any bit of training, and that consisted of one day aboard the Falcon and then three years later a few months in a swamp. Even a mouse droid could tell him his training was lacking.
Secondly, and while Luke meant no disrespect to his masters, he felt it. Underneath his admiration, there was a festering resentment. Oh, they may have been great Jedis once upon a time, but the only explanation Luke had for their behavior was all that training took away one's backbone.
The potential of the Force was another consideration. Once he had wanted to be the Jedi his father was, and then he had learned the identity of his father. He was a fallen Jedi, a rather important distinction. Luke had no desire to bring about another era of war, casual evil and horrific loss.
And the galaxy was enormous. He wasn't old, but how could one human reach so many in the few years he had left? The lesson in the mistakes of his father and the Emperor was the Force needed to spread on its own, and it needed to be shared.
Luke concluded the best approach was slow and careful. It wasn't him that mattered, but the first generations of active Force users. He felt he had the blessing of the Force. His first class just... came to him. He knew he wanted the very young, and the few places he went, seemingly random encounters on Kasshyyk, Coruscant, and Sullust, brought him his first class of eight.
He wasn't worried about teaching the Force. He was glad his students were all very young, because he was worried about teaching other things, the real life things like math, reading, and science. He wouldn't be able to afford any other instructor for a while, so the students had to accept him.
Han, typically, had summed it up. "You've opened a daycare," he said.
Maybe Luke had, but it was a start. He could handle this age. It was fun. He taught them things like tying knots and colors and how to count. They danced and jumped and explored the lake. Sometimes they cried. When the parents came, their children were happy, and so was Luke. The Force was beautifully present in these youngsters. Seven of them. The mother of the eighth had insisted she was special, and since Luke had no surefire test yet for whether a being was Force-sensitive or not, he took the child in.
The ball's sensor came to life and tried to wriggle out of Luke's hand. Han smiled. "Chase the ball, Little Masters!" Luke shouted. He tossed the motion ball high into the air and watched as his class stopped what they were doing to follow the trajectory of the ball.
"See that Force?" Luke turned to Han.
Han's brows raised politely. "No," he said.
All eight were moving in the same direction after the ball. "Just watch," Luke said. "Where did you get these?" he asked. "And why? Aren't you supposed to be being a general?"
"I get days off," Han grumped.
"You smuggle on your days off?"
"I broker. These are legit."
"I see." But Luke didn't. He was pretty sure Han shouldn't have a side gig.
Han shrugged again. "I wanted to..." He shrugged again. "I don't know. Show support," he grumbled uncomfortably. "I'll take 'em back if you don't want 'em."
"No, they're great." Luke was laughing and had to activate another ball, as sure enough, the first motion ball had sent itself into the lake. His Little Masters were changing tactics, splitting up and hunting the ball from different directions. He added a second ball to the game. Han and Luke watched the children for a while without speaking.
Then Luke told Han, "I had an incident today."
"Yeah?"
"It was partially my fault. I left the kids alone with my lightsaber."
Han chuckled. "This oughta be good. Want me to count their fingers?"
"And I learned something," Luke said.
"I think you should have known not to leave them alone already," Han said. "Anything get damaged?"
"My robe," Luke said sadly.
Han smiled. "I was wondering why you're out here in just a shirt."
"That one," Luke gestured with his chin at a little stout human boy, "managed to set it on fire."
"With the lightsaber?"
"With the Force, I think. A saber would, you know, cut. Slash. Not put to flame. He used it in a way I hadn't. It was hanging on a hook, and when I came back in, it was on fire and the kids were standing back just watching it burn."
"I hope someone had a bad feeling about that."
Luke nodded in agreement. "They were all pretty scared. But you're right; I'm going to have to address complicity and mob mentality."
"They're what- three?"
"Six. You're a bad judge of age. Not that that kind of talent isn't bad-"
"- it is pretty special."
Luke nodded again. "- but he can't use it just because he can do it."
"Give him a job," Han suggested with a shrug. "Even though he's six."
"As what? A pyrotechnic?"
Han shrugged again. "You use flame at all? Light lamps? Stuff like that?"
Luke gazed at Han. "Yeah," he said slowly. "Teach responsibility. I like it."
A motion ball had bounced off one of the students, a Twi-lek with sensitive loku, and the boy was crying. "Come here, Little Master," Luke called. The eight children stopped, checking to see which one their Master Skywalker wanted. "Let me see."
He used his left hand to gently touch the sore spot, cooing and sympathetic. The Twi-lek's sniffling stopped. "It hurts for a minute, doesn't it?" Luke said. "It's telling you something."
"Ow," the boy said.
Luke laughed and he saw Han smile. "Yes, ow. Let it finish feeling the ow. Once it knows you listened it may stop."
The boy nodded. "Can I have a ball, Master Skywalker?"
"Sure." Luke let the boy take one and then he lifted several more out of the crate using the Force, scattering them towards the children.
Han watched them play, an amused and wistful look on his face. "You're good with them," he told Luke.
"I oughta be by now," Luke laughed.
"That's why I came."
"Oh, a performance review," Luke joked. "Leia sent you, didn't she? To check I'm good with them?"
"Just thought I'd hang out with you, see what it's like."
"The life of a teacher?"
"The kids."
"Oh." Luke blinked once to hide surprise. "The kids are great. Usually. You, uh-"
"Leia has this pillow," Han said.
Luke nodded. "Sure," he said. He knew it would come out eventually. "Next time bring me a couple hundred of those."
"It's on the couch, and we keep it between us."
"Okay. I'm seeing the beginnings of a pillow fort?" Luke spread his palms open to show he was open to anything.
"No. She said if we're thinking of what it's like to be a parent, to pretend the pillow is in our care and see what we do."
Luke asked the Force to keep him from reacting. This was Han, running scared and directly towards the thing that frightened him.
"What do you do?"
"Well, we fight over it." Han brought his eyes down to Luke's.
"You fight over a pillow? How?"
"Like, who's going to hold it."
Luke covered his mouth with his gloved hand. "Sounds like a lucky pillow."
"Yeah." Han started to grin, one side of his mouth curling up. "It is."
"Maybe you should get another pillow," Luke suggested. "So you don't fight."
"And," Han scratched his head, "the other day, I went to get a beer; Leia wasn't even home, and I'm sittin' on the couch with the damn pillow in my lap. I want a beer, and I'm actually thinkin', what do I do with the pillow? Know what I did?"
Luke's hand had to stay at his mouth. "What'd you do?"
"I brought the fucking thing with me! To the cooler! To get a beer."
His mirth won and Luke laughed. "How nice of you to share that experience with the pillow."
"It's not like it was gonna roll off the couch." Han was bemused at himself.
"No, I don't think pillow parents have to worry as much as, you know, parents of an actual being."
"Right," Han agreed with a nod.
The two men stood and watched the motion balls dance away from the kids, who didn't even seem to want to catch them. They danced and twirled and fell before them, making the balls bounce away. Chewie was playing with them, teaching the kids to stalk. One hung off the Wookiee's great leg. Ripples spread in the lake from the ones that sank below the water.
Luke was thinking of Han and Leia, what must be hours of discussion, so much more than a pillow fight. He missed his sister. He missed her a lot. He thought maybe next year he'd move his school a little closer.
After a long silence, Luke said, "So I'm an uncle to a pillow, huh?"
Han grinned. "Yeah, you can pillow sit anytime."
"That's why you came? To let me know I'll be an uncle?"
"No." Han glared at Luke. "To let you know Leia's gonna be a mother. And me a father."
Tears sprang in Luke's eyes. He didn't expect them, but he showed them to Han. "When?"
"Not yet."
Luke nodded. "Gods damn," he swore. "I'm so happy."
"Yeah," Han nodded again.
Luke watched his students again, letting his mind go, feeling things deeply. "I love Leia and you, you know," he said. "It's great." He looked at Han, the wind blowing his hair, the warmth in the eyes, the love and fear and wonder he tucked carefully away until a pillow- a pillow!- brought it out. It was a fantastic realization, and Luke had a sense of Life, of the Force maybe. If ever the Empire rose again, he knew without a doubt it would be defeated, just from this moment alone.
"I figure kids are different than pillows," Han said with a smile.
"A little bit," Luke said. "But the parent's love is the same."
Han made a face. "A little stronger, I'd think."
"You took a pillow to the cooler 'cause you didn't want it to be alone!"
Han smiled fully.
There, he'd gotten his answer, Luke saw. "How do you turn these balls off?" he wondered.
"I don't think you do. Think that's why they were such a deal," Han admitted.
Luke shook his head. "You're crazy, you know. I can't let you borrow one of my Little Masters but you can hang around for a bit."
"Okay."
"Might not be too interesting, because- actually, it's a good trick. Give 'em lots of fresh air and exercise, and they sleep like a Hutt after a meal."
After the thirtieth ball sank below the surface of the lake, Luke invited his Little Masters for a snack with General Solo and Chewbacca. He used the Force to bring the crate inside, and his Little Masters walked underneath, stretching their arms to pretend to hold it up.