What was Luke doing wrong?
He could swear- swear- Ben was-
But it sounded crazy, crazier now, now that-
Where had he gone?
Ben had spoken... from the Force. In Luke's head, anyway. But he wasn't going to tell anyone that.
Even then Luke wasn't really sure. If it was instinct- of course his mind is going to tell him to flee. Would it though, in Ben's voice?
There was celebration, too. The Force will be with you, always.
Maybe.
Was it real? Or was it like Han said, the mystical ramblings of a man whose eyes gleamed with fevered belief?
Was Luke Force-sensitive, or was he a convert?
Use the Force, Luke.
Well, sure. Who was afraid of death when you could just come back?
Did Ben mean get shot down? Die, instead of aim without seeing, so Ben could pull him from the Force and together they'd fight Darth Vader?
What were they going to do, haunt him? Drive him mad, with their disembodied voices in his head?
Ben had given Luke his father's lightsaber and the strange technique of closing his eyes to see. That had worked, twice. Now Luke kept bumping into things.
The Jedi's weapon was the lightsaber. A very intimate way of fighting, as Han had pointed out rather tactlessly. A physical weapon.
Luke imagined a Jedi had a relationship with his lightsaber, on a different level than Han had with his blaster. Oh, Han liked his blaster all right, but it was a tool he selected that emphasized his abilities. He didn't sleep with it.
Maybe he did. But under his pillow where it provided ready access in case someone came in.
Luke kept his lightsaber with him at all times. He cleaned it, took it apart and put it back together. He tried to put across to Leia just what it meant to him and felt he was failing. It wasn't a tool so much as an extension of himself, he told her. An assistant, a colleague, maybe even another limb, if a human could imagine having three arms.
From the look on Leia's face, he could see the idea of having three arms did not appeal to her.
Luke tried fighting the remote trainer with the blast shield covering his face as he had the very first time he felt the Force, but he got zapped.
He tried waving his hand and arranging the tauntauns in a row just like Ben had convinced the stormtrooper the droids sitting in the back of the landspeeder weren't the ones sought by the Empire, but the animals ignored him.
He put himself in life and death situations, just to hear that voice again, telling him how to escape.
There was silence. Unless he counted Han's frustrated cursing, yelling at him for having a death wish.
It wasn't a death wish. Luke wanted to open his mouth and confess, It's a Ben wish, Han.
Why couldn't he hear Ben anymore?
He had to do something. It was building up in him: frustration, failure. Not the Force, unfortunately.
If he couldn't come back, if the Force couldn't protect him from death, then... Darth Vader was going to kill him, like he had killed Ben.
Sometimes Luke had to look at Han and Leia to be sure he hadn't dreamed it. Ben's instruction, was so quick, so... quiet compared to the noise Darth Vader made when he breathed.
He missed Ben. Missed what Ben meant. He was kind and wise, and... weird, really, when Luke thought about home and the reputation Ben had.
Weirder, now, that Luke realized Ben knew who Luke was the whole time and never said a word.
And his sympathy for the older man would dissolve into anger. Luke could be so much by now!
There must have been a reason. Luke had to console himself with the reminder that he wasn't the center of the galaxy.
It sure felt like Darth Vader was, though.
"How come you don't have the Force?" he asked Han once. It wasn't the best time to ask questions. They were being chased by enemy ships, but Luke's tongue was always loosened when he was excited.
Han banked his ship steeply on its side. Luke's hip bumped into the arm of a chair but he saw that the bolts from the Tie fighters passed by harmlessly.
Chewie, the Wookiee copilot, gave a grunt of approval. Luke didn't know how long the two had been partners, but it seemed like maybe it had been a while. They made a good team.
"You could, you know," Luke said. "Your piloting is very... instinctive."
"I don't want it," Han said calmly, rolling the ship back the other way and firing the belly cannons.
"Something's failing," Leia warned. An indicator light was flashing red.
"It's the shielding," Han said. "Don't worry. Just get us some coordinates to jump to."
"It's a crowded system," Leia answered coolly, but her eyes watched the flashing light. "It's taking a while to calculate a safe route."
Luke gripped the copilot's seat so he wouldn't fall. "But how do you know you don't?" he said to Han. "I don't think you can just refuse it."
"Luke, sit down," Leia ordered, tugging on his shirt. She was in the navigator's seat.
"Try it," Han said.
Luke sat on the floor because Leia had the only other seat. He wrapped his legs around the trunk of the navigator's seat to keep himself in place. It was stupid; he really should go back to the lounge and strap in. He'd offered to man the guns but Han said it wasn't necessary and he was jealous that Leia got to be up front with the others.
"Try what?"
"Refuse it."
Luke almost laughed. "No," he said.
Chewie made a growling noise but except for a quick cock of his head, Han ignored him.
"What'd he say?" Luke asked Han.
"Nothing. Just cursing the Imps."
"Oh."
"There was a test," Leia said. Like Han, her focus was out the cockpit, her lips pressed into a thin line from the tension, but she was able to follow the conversation like it was one of the gauges blinking on the nav'puter. "Back when the Order still existed, they tested young beings. They had a sort of traveling admissions department."
"How very bureaucratic," Han said. "Chewie, angle the shields at thirty. D'ja get a test?" he asked Luke. He even turned around to look at Luke, and the ship dipped. Luke saw Leia's knuckles turn white.
"No. Ben told me."
"That's certain, then," Han said drolly.
"Don't make him doubt himself," Leia chided Han. "It's hard enough on his own like this-"
"Why would he lie?" Luke wanted to know.
"How we coming on those coordinates?" Han said.
"Almost set," Leia answered.
"I don't doubt myself," Luke said. "At all."
Chewie said something again, and Han glanced sharply at him this time. "Just full of secrets, aren't you."
"What?" Luke wanted to know.
"Said he had the test."
"Really?"
"He's probably lying'."
Chewie answered angrily, waving his arm at Han.
"Hold at thirty!" Han snapped.
"He's not lying," Luke said.
"Ready!" Leia said.
"Hit it, Chewie, and stop complaining."
Looking outside, it looked like time froze, but then the stars stretched and blurred, and Luke felt like his whole insides shifted to the left side of his body. Leia let her arms hang limply over the arms of the seat as the ship safely entered hyperspace.
"Instinct is born of desperation," she proclaimed of Han's flying.
"My piloting is inspired," Han corrected. He had unstrapped and was going to see what new damage the ship had incurred. Luke followed him.
Leia followed, too. "You're no artist, Captain."
"Is Chewie Force-sensitive?" Luke asked.
"No," Han said. "You're not, are ya, pal? We're gonna have to replace the coil." He nodded at Leia confidently. "I have my moments."
Chewie caught Luke's attention and spoke to him. Even without knowing exactly what the barks, growls and hoots meant, Luke understood Chewie was telling him he did not possess the ability to manipulate the Force.
"From back when the Jedi occupied the defense of Kasshyyk," Han explained.
"Was he very young?" Luke had no idea how old the Wookiee was, but everyone assumed he was at least a couple of centuries old.
"The defense was during the Clone Wars," Leia told Luke. "Not very long ago. Shortly before the purge."
"Why would he get tested?"
Han shrugged. "For fun."
Leia shook her head at him. "You're impossible."
Han winked at her and smiled.
"You just can't make up answers," Leia said.
"Sure I can."
"At that time," Leia explained to Luke, "there weren't enough Knights to fight. The Jedi were stretched terribly thin."
"Yeah, that admissions department must have been terribly busy."
Leia made a disappointed face at Han, but she kept talking to Luke. "They weren't exactly recruiting, but they made a push to identify more Force-sensitive."
Luke nodded. History didn't really interest him all that much. Usually he felt it was done; move on, but Chewie right now loomed before him. Living history.
Like Ben and Darth Vader. A tale of loss and regret, and then Ben died.
"How come you didn't know before, Han?"
"Know what?" Han had opened a maintenance hatch in the floor and had disappeared inside it.
"That Chewie was with the Jedi. That he got tested."
Han was unconcerned. "Chewie thinks he's got two hundred years to fill me in."
Luke looked at Chewie, who answered by widening his eyes and peeling his lips back. Luke smiled.
"He's heard most of my stories," Han talked while he worked.
Chewie growled something.
"What?" Luke said.
"Shut up." Han sounded good-natured. "Said I'm startin' to repeat myself."
Something was nudging Luke's mind. Was it the Force? It didn't have a voice, but it was telling him to pay attention.
"We all know you're full of hot air, Captain," Leia said, joining Chewie in teasing Han.
Luke thought maybe, in that weird way of Ben's, the old Jedi's spirit spoke softly through Chewie.
Han's head appeared when Leia spoke. "You oughta come and listen," he said to her. "Keep you warm on those cold Hoth nights," and he waggled his brows.
And if it spoke through Chewie, then it might- should, since it was the Force- speak through Leia, through Han-
They certainly had their own dialog, didn't they, Luke mused.
- Maybe even the tauntauns who grumbled at him when he asked them to move.
He hadn't been listening. He thought he needed a master: Ben, if there was no one else.
Ben had died too soon. That much was true. He'd given Luke the lesson about closing his eyes to see. Obviously there wasn't enough time to tell Luke everything. Ben hadn't gotten the opportunity to tell Luke that one didn't have to listen to hear.
"You're telling me I've got to experience," Luke answered Ben through Chewie. "I've got to be patient."
Chewie said something. Luke looked at Han.
"He said he hasn't heard all your stories."
"No, I guess you haven't, Chewie."
Luke asked a lot of questions usually. Too many, perhaps. Han sometimes rolled his eyes at him. But he didn't say much about himself. He was brooding, he supposed. Or not interested in his own history.
"He says he's dying to hear about moisture farming," Han interpreted for Luke.
Leia laughed and even Han enjoyed the sarcasm. "Wait until I'm out with the tauntauns before you launch into that one."
It was about a week after their return to Echo Base- Luke stopped counting the days in an effort to be patient- he was able to call his lightsaber into his hand, and the Force sounded like his own voice in his head.