"Just relax," Luke was saying, pacing through the grass with his hands behind his back, holding a long switch cut from a green sapling. "You have to wean yourself off your dependence on your eyes. You already know what's around you. You don't have to see it to be aware of it."

Mara and Pooja crept silently into the chairs beneath the tree at the corner of the lawn to watch. Darred's shoulders slumped, partly out of frustration, and partly out of an intense desire to follow the Master's direction and succeed. The blindfold was making him nervy, but it was also partly an exercise in patience.

For the past week they had been helping the boy understand those split-second decisions and shadowy intuitions he had previously taken for granted, making the ability more intentional. Luke had focused primarily on developing Darred's danger sense, probably one of the more practical applications of his natural talents. He wasn't about to hand the child a remote and a lightsaber, so he had innovated an alternative approach.

Luke flicked the switch through the air, and the sound alone made Darred pull up his leg.

"Don't try to anticipate," Luke corrected him. "Just stay calm and be aware."

Perversely, Luke then said and did nothing for a full five minutes, standing like a statue and watching Darred sweat. Finally, they could all see the tension begin to drain out of the boy's posture. The sun was pleasantly warm, the birds were singing, and one could only stand at high alert for so long before the mind began to wander.

Luke whipped the switch across Darred's right arm, sending the kid hopping and howling in protest. Pooja winced.

"It's no worse than the Academy kids get," Mara assured her. "Those training remotes pack a hell of a sting."

"This is impossible!" Darred seethed, obviously tempted to throw a tantrum, but still committed enough to keep the blindfold on.

"Nonsense," Luke insisted, keeping his tone light and pleasant. "That was good. You started moving just before I hit you that time."

"Doesn't feel so good," Darred grumbled, resuming his ready stance.

"Builds character, trust me."

Luke waited only two minutes, and then swung at Darred's ear, but Darred's head wasn't there anymore as he ducked so quickly he almost lost his balance.

"There, you see?" Luke said, triumphant. "You can do it!"

Ben and Ruwee hollered as Mara and Pooja applauded. Darred shook out his limbs and gathered himself again, his scowl transformed into a cautious smile.

"Don't lose focus now, we're finally getting somewhere." Luke turned and silently beckoned to Ruwee. He handed the younger boy the switch with an encouraging nod, and backed away.

A wickedly mischievous look passed Ruwee's face as he crept into position. He swung at his brother's legs, neck, and hips in a chaotic attack that had Darred jumping and convulsing as if someone had slipped an insect into his shirt. It wasn't pretty, but his reaction time was actually impressive.

Darred ripped off the blindfold and rounded on his tormentor. "You! Little twerp!"

Ruwee scrambled away laughing, but Luke stopped the chase before it could really get started. "That was good," he said, drawing the boys back together. "Now, I hope I can trust you both to be team players here. Ruwee, Darred is going to need a lot of practice, and I can't always be here to help him, so I'm counting on you. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have a brother, so don't take each other for granted. Okay?"

There was only a brief hesitation and a sideways look between them. "Yes, Master Skywalker."

"Good." Luke relieved Darred of the blindfold, and Ruwee of the switch. "Enough practice. Go have fun."

Mara sipped her tea, almost sorry they were heading back to Theed in the morning. That week they had spent steeped in Naberrie family heritage had been one of the best and most memorable interludes they had shared together, and which was remarkable considering what she and Luke usually got up to on their infrequent but very intentional vacations. She would have more regret if she wasn't absolutely certain Luke would bring them all back to Varykino before long. Now that he'd found them, he was determined to fully embrace whichever Naberries would have them.

With the most intimate and emotional experiences neatly tied up, their return to their public itinerary in the capital felt much smoother than it had at first. Queen Archana welcomed them back to the palace, and invited them to accompany her on several routine public appearances. The population of Theed enthusiastically welcomed them back as well, obviously disappointed that the Skywalkers had disappeared almost as soon as they had arrived. Luke tried to make it up to them by being especially attentive and patient with the crowds of people eager to exchange a word or two with him wherever they went.

After a brief negotiation with the teaching staff, Luke made good on his conditional promise to visit Darred and Ruwee at their school, resulting in the effective suspension of all classes for the latter half of the day as all the students gathered for an impromptu assembly. Never one to miss an educational opportunity, Grand Master Skywalker treated his captive but eager audience to a scientific explanation of what the Force was, how it worked, and the biological mechanisms required to manipulate it.

"If the Force is an energy field," a precocious middle-schooler asked, "why can't we detect it? What kind of energy are we talking about?"

Luke paused mid-presentation, and an insolent titter passed through the assembly as though they had successfully caught him with a trick question. Far too experienced to be outmaneuvered by a crowd of children, Luke gave them a playfully narrow look and accepted the challenge. Mara knew that look very well. "That is a very good question," he admitted, "and the short answer is . . . we don't really know. Believe it or not, that's a bit beyond even my paygrade. But," he continued, "we can make some broad assumptions about it based on how we can use it to interact with other forms of energy."

He picked up a marker and delineated two columns on the wallboard behind him. "Who remembers the two basic kinds of energy?" he asked. "Anyone? Potential energy and . . . kinetic energy, right." He scribbled out labels for his columns as a few voices volunteered the answer. "At least someone was paying attention in science class. If we were trying to put the Force into one of these categories, we would consider it a kind of potential energy generated by all living things in the galaxy, maybe even the universe. We haven't quite figured out how to measure that, but we can obviously use it to manipulate all kinds of kinetic energy. Who can give me some forms of kinetic energy?" Luke turned, and pointed out the kid who had asked the question in the first place. "Come on, hit me."

"Uh," the boy stammered, "motion energy . . . thermal energy . . . radiant energy . . . uh . . . electrical energy . . ."

"And?" Luke prompted, waiting at the end of his list, marker ready. "Anybody? How about sound?"

A groan rippled through the room.

"Ah, remember now? Sound." Luke finished his list and turned back to the assembly. "Okay. Now, backing up a little bit, what is the first rule we learn about all energy?"

An eager girl in front shot her hand up. "It is neither created nor destroyed."

"Louder for the people in the back," Luke agreed. "Energy is neither created nor destroyed. It just changes form. Somehow, the energy of all living things fuels that vast well of potential energy we call the Force. Jedi Knights, and anyone else equipped to access the Force, can use its potential to actualize all these forms of kinetic energy. Motion is probably the most obvious. Who has something I can borrow for a minute?"

A motley assortment of items were thrust into the air, and Luke methodically summoned them one by one into his hand—pens, lunch packs, water bottles, datacards, composition books, even a fruit or two—until he had amassed quite a collection on the teacher's desk. "You can reclaim these after class," he said, rolling one of the fruits through the air for effect before putting it down. "Now, let's continue with an example that will be harder to see at first. What's air made of?"

"Ooo!" Ruwee jumped in his seat. "Nitrogen! Oxygen! Carbon dioxide!"

"That's very specific," Luke agreed with a smile. "Those are all what?"

"Gasses!"

"And what are gasses made of?"

"Uh . . ."

"Same thing everything else is made of," Luke prompted.

"Molecules?" somebody guessed.

Luke raised a finger and nodded. "Molecules are objects that can be moved, whatever state of matter they may be in. So, watch what happens when I use the Force to pull a bunch of air molecules together. Oh, and somebody open the windows. We're going to need more air in here."

Once the room was properly ventilated, Luke gathered himself, and Mara could feel him pulling together a dense mass of air above the center of the room. It was essentially invisible, though.

"I can't see anything," someone complained.

"Bear with me," Luke said, splitting his attention between the class and his demonstration. "Let's see what happens when we move the molecules a bit faster."

It took a minute and some intense concentration, but there was a chorus of surprise, delight, and amazement as the trapped air mass manifested as a ruddy glowball emitting light, heat, and a definite noise.

"So," Luke concluded, his eyes half closed and just a hint of the strain in his voice, "we have successfully channeled the undetectable and immeasurable Force into motion, which is changed into thermal radiation, which is changed into radiant energy, probably a significant electrical charge if you wanted to stick your finger into it, all of which incidentally produces sound." As a grand finale, he released the pressurized air all at once, restoring the equilibrium of the room so rapidly that the place shook with a clap of artificial thunder and more than a few shrieks from startled students. "Any questions?"

After a breath of stunned silence, the assembly dissolved into laughter and applause. Mara joined in with a twisted smile, expecting that would probably go down as one of the more dramatic science lessons in the school's prestigious history. Once again, she was convinced Luke could teach anything once he put his mind to it.

Pooja leaned in beside her. "Reminds me of Grandfather," she said, looking unexpectedly wistful. "He always managed to bring a dramatic flair to a classroom."

It turned out that Pooja wasn't the only one to notice the resemblance. Days later, a local journo published a retrospective in honor of the occasion, presenting a holostill of the late Professor Ruwee Naberrie lecturing undergraduates at Theed University beside the more recent image of his celebrated grandson, Grand Master Skywalker, demonstrating energy transfer at the preparatory academy. Luke appreciated it very much, so of course they bought five copies and added them to their growing stash of souvenirs.

That stash already included a healthy supply of those dried purple flowers that were so popular steeped in water, a glossy pictorial biography of Padmé Amidala, a smooth stone with striking inclusions from the beach at Varykino, a hand-carved zaelawood figure of Queen Amidala that some thoughtful citizen had pressed into Luke's hand during one of their walkabouts with Archana, and a bar of soap that smelled exactly like the lake country forests. Mara imagined Luke would probably just keep that in a drawer in his office for the occasional shot of aromatherapy. She had almost been obliged to physically pull him away from the display in the street market.

There was no shortage of available ways to spend their time. Scores of formal invitations flooded into the palace, more than they could ever hope to entertain, but Luke insisted upon accepting as many as they could, so many that they almost never ate at the same place twice. Ben found all the etiquette very tiresome, but much like that edifying sting of failure in the training regimen, Mara knew the drudgery of it would build character. They met many interesting individuals from all the major houses clustered at the apex of Naboo high society, most of whom they would probably never see again.

Queen Archana herself began requesting a greater share of their time as the days wore on toward their inevitable departure, inviting them to tour significant sites in the city with her, asking them to elucidate certain aspects of recent galactic events for her, or, as in this case, to simply walk in the palace gardens. Mara was observant enough to suspect the young queen was perhaps a bit infatuated with Luke—whether as a giant of recent history, a prodigious Jedi Master, the son of Amidala, or just the archetype of a strong and kind older man, Mara couldn't say—and was becoming increasingly creative in her quest to share his company. Mara found herself amused rather than offended. Archana was only a teenage girl, after all, and what good was sovereign authority if one couldn't harmlessly leverage it now and then? She couldn't fault her taste.

"This is what I wanted you to see, Your Grace," the queen said, leading them into the very center of the garden. "They budded while you were at Varykino, and I could not allow you to leave without sharing them with you."

It was a small grove of bushes, immaculately tended and pruned, now adorned with sparse but beautiful blossoms.

Luke shared Mara's bemusement. "They're lovely," he said, perfectly polite, certain the shrubs must be more remarkable than they seemed, "but what are they?"

Archana smiled, and probably blushed under the royal white façade. "These are bhansgrek bushes, very delicate and difficult to maintain, but a traditional symbol of royalty and prestige among the Naboo."

Like Leia's Alderaanian ladalums, Mara thought, remembering the trouble and expense her sister-in-law had endured to keep those striking red flowers thriving. Another casualty of the Vong war.

"They bloom only once in a century," Archana explained.

"Oh." That fact certainly put the little blossoms in an entirely new light.

"Senator Amidala kept a bhansgrek in a special horticapsule aboard her diplomatic transport, prolonging its blooms," the queen continued. "These remain at the mercy of nature, I'm afraid. The palace grove blooming in perfect conjunction with your return to us, Your Grace, seems more by design than by chance."

Luke smiled in that warm way he always did, but, more perceptive than he let on, he seemed content to accept the formality of the situation without establishing more familiar terms. "I've been encountering many such chances recently, Your Highness," he admitted. "Thank you. It would have been a shame to leave without seeing them."

Mara could see that Luke's appreciation was real now that he understood the significance of what they were looking at, their whole journey of discovery elegantly symbolized by a plant. There was something in his eyes that wasn't covetousness so much as wishful aspiration. "We have a garden of our own in the new Jedi Temple," he said. "The Room of a Thousand Fountains was always meant to be a quiet place full of growing things where the Jedi could find some peace in the heart of Coruscant. We've tried to replicate it as best we can. It's a shame they're so fragile, because I wouldn't mind having some of these there."

Archana seemed both pleased by the opportunity to oblige him and scandalized by his doubt. "If you want them," she insisted adamantly, "you will have them. There are several promising saplings in our greenhouses now. I will send them on to Coruscant as soon as I may, and with them one of our senior gardeners to see them properly established."

Luke's face was momentarily shadowed by a pang of genuine gratitude, touched by the offer. "That would be extraordinarily gracious, Your Highness," he said. "Thank you."

Mara smiled to herself, appreciating the gesture. It would be good to have some of Amidala's royal flower bushes in the Temple gardens, a quiet but persistent reminder of her legacy. It was poetic, really, that none of them would live to see those saplings bloom. Much of Luke's life had been spent planting metaphorical trees that would mature long after he was gone. The whole New Jedi Order was like a forest of saplings.

Unfortunately, the galaxy at large couldn't spare the Masters Skywalker forever. Although Luke still insisted on keeping his comlink switched off until he was good and ready to get back to business, Mara began getting tentative pings from Coruscant and from Ossus, gently inquiring about their possible return. Mara knew her husband couldn't resist the call of duty for long, but she understood his reluctance to finally draw a line beneath their stay on Naboo. There was something undeniably special about it, unlikely to be repeated even if they came back. It would be a shame to break the spell.

"I suppose we've monopolized your time long enough," Pooja sighed as they all stood watching the boys drive hovercarts around a racetrack, "but I can't say I regret a single moment. It won't be the same around here without you."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," Mara advised her. "I doubt you'll be rid of us for long, and we Skywalkers manage to dredge up drama wherever we go."

Pooja shook her head. "Mara, you weaponize the truth so elegantly."

Luke laughed. "I'll have to second that," he said. "But she's right. As grateful as I am to have found you, Pooja, I apologize in advance for whatever insanity of ours you get caught up in. We seem to cast a wide trawl. Sorry."

"I'm not afraid of a little drama." Pooja lifted her chin defiantly at the brilliant sunset in front of them. "Puts the spice in life."

Mara sighed as Ben, Darred, and Ruwee careened around the turn in front of them, their repulsors bouncing them harmlessly from the walls of the course. "It's possible for life to be too spicy sometimes."

"True," Pooja agreed, "but few things are more worth the pain than your own flesh and blood. Whatever else that alleged Skywalker curse may bring, I'll never be sorry that you found me, Luke. You call me anytime. For better or worse, we're in this crazy life together."

Luke turned to her with a look that was particularly heavy with gratitude and family affection. "I'll hold you to that," he promised. "I hope you're ready."

"Luke, we're Naberries," Pooja insisted, her insolent smile recalling the memory of a young woman who had dared to defy an empire. "We were born ready."

He didn't show it, but Mara could feel that plain-spoken sentiment strike Luke so deeply that it could have brought him to tears if he let it. Gaining even one cousin who was prepared to stand by him was worth any grief they met along the way. It never got old, she knew, finding people who obviously had the mettle to be lifelong friends, being able to look at them and see his own enduring loyalty mirrored in their eyes. Life had kicked Luke in the teeth often enough to make those relationships incredibly precious to him, and Mara was glad to see him find another one.

"So," Pooja said, changing the subject, "any plans for your last day tomorrow?"

"Actually," Luke said, "there is one thing I'd like to do before we go. Pooja, do you think you could convince your mother to see me again? There are some things I'd like to say."

Luke gathered his thoughts one last time as Pooja led him through the house to the formal sitting room. They would be heading back to Coruscant in the morning, and he didn't want to leave his relationship with his aunt in such a sorry state if he could help it. He had no intention of abasing himself, dressed in his formal Jedi robes with no gratuitous consideration for Sola's prejudices, but he could still make the first overture, and that on his own terms.

"Wait here," Pooja instructed, leaving him in the hallway. She knocked on the door and eased it open. "Mother, Luke is here." She frowned, expressing her own dissatisfaction with her mother's attitude, but she waved him forward. "Go on in," she said, "for what it's worth."

Luke entered as he was bidden, and closed the door behind him. "Good evening, Aunt Sola," he said, keeping his tone even and businesslike, with just enough confrontational familiarity to make his point. Sola was seated in her chair, the image of a proud and venerable matron, her eyes fixed on the far wall as though at least some part of her was there under duress. She didn't condescend to answer him, or even to look at him, but that didn't matter. For his part, Luke didn't condescend to react to her petty acts of pique. "That's all right," he said, "you don't have to say anything. I just need you to hear me out."

He let the silence linger. "I came to say that my family and I will be flying out in the morning, but I'm not going away. I'll be back, often, and I have no intention of letting anything or anyone sour my relationship with the rest of the Naberries. I'm not asking anything from you, but you're still my mother's sister, and if at any point you change your mind, I'll be glad to hear from you."

Luke pulled a datacard from his pocket and laid it on the table beside Sola's chair. "I've compiled some of Artoo's recordings," he said. "Watch them if you want some insight into the truth of Padmé's relationship with Anakin, what their marriage was like at its best. Or don't. Your choice. I found them to be very enlightening."

That was it, really. Luke could have some peace knowing he had made it clear that he would always be open to having a relationship with Sola if she offered one, but he wouldn't demand it. He thought he could sense a subtle change in her, although that might be wishful thinking. She looked as stubborn and as cold as ever, still staring at the far wall. Grief could become a prison that was deceptively difficult to escape, especially if someone was unwilling to let it go.

It recalled something Han had stung him with ten years ago when they were all struggling to cope with losing Chewie. Sometimes people don't want to be saved, Luke. If Anakin's hardest lesson had been letting go, Luke's was standing down. Maybe he wanted things for Sola she didn't want for herself yet. He couldn't force her to have peace in her life. He could only make himself available, and be ready if she called.

Hiding that twinge of disappointment, Luke drew himself up and offered his aunt a formal nod. "Thank you for your time," he said. "Goodbye, Lady Naberrie."

"Wait."

Luke stopped mid-turn, and Sola finally looked him in the eye. There was something there, perhaps not quite as stubborn or cold as he'd supposed. Without another word, she slowly rose out of her chair and crossed the room, opened a storage cupboard and pulled something out.

It was a large blue report binder, stuffed with flimsis and prints of mismatched colors and sizes, and as Sola came back and laid it in his hands, Luke knew exactly what it was.

It was his grandfather's scrapbook.

Luke was genuinely speechless for a moment. "I thought you'd gotten rid of it," he finally managed to say.

"I almost did," Sola admitted. She was plainly still at war with herself, not ashamed of her reservations, but slowly turning to face that reality they were all living. It wasn't peace that Luke saw in her, but it was the first stirrings of acceptance, and he was pleased to see it. "Goodbye, Master Skywalker. May the goodwill of all Naboo go with you."

They hadn't done so badly, Mara thought.

The adults lingered outside the Jade Shadow as Darred and Ruwee helped Ben and Nanna load and stow the luggage. Despite Artoo's predictions of doom, they had come through the storm and were better for it. Some of them may have indeed been scarred by the experience, but that was just a consequence of breathing. Life was a gradual process of collecting scars.

"I expect to hear from you all on a regular basis," Pooja was saying. "I know the Galactic Alliance doesn't pay good money for you to be forever on holiday, but that's no excuse to lose touch."

"Absolutely not," Luke agreed. "If you don't hear from us for a while, and you're sure another war hasn't broken out and Coruscant isn't burning, it's just because things got busy. You'd be surprised how little free time we actually have."

"Maybe not," Pooja countered. "I remember what civil service was like."

The kids returned noisily down the ramp, jabbering about things that were important to pre-adolescent boys.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he hits you up sooner than you expect," Mara warned her. "He's already thinking about coming back."

"Something about this place already feels like home to me," Luke said, unapologetic. "It's almost too perfect, like something out of a dream. Air that always smells like flowers, a shimmering palace on a cliff . . ."

"The sound of waterfalls," Mara suggested with a sly glance at Pooja. "He can't help it. These Tatooine types are always intrigued by a good waterfall."

Pooja smiled. "As the story goes, Padmé was especially fascinated by the waterfalls when they came to Theed. They were the first she had ever seen." She looked down as Artoo came trundling up alongside them. "Thank you, R2-D2, for your long and exemplary service to the Naberrie Skywalkers. I expect there's a long road ahead yet, so keep yourself well, and don't let Master Luke fly too close to any suns."

Artoo responded with a cheery whistle, assuring her of his continued attention to the matter. Then he rolled past her and up the boarding ramp.

"I think he's getting itchy out here," Mara observed. "He hasn't been out cruising for trouble in five whole weeks."

"Well, I guess we mustn't keep Artoo waiting." Pooja turned and summoned her grandsons. "Boys, come and say goodbye. They have to get going."

"Goodbye, Master Skywalker," Darred said, taking Luke's hand in a very firm and grown-up manner. "Thanks for everything. It was an honor to meet you."

"I'd say it shouldn't be any special honor to meet members of your own family, Darred," Luke said with an easy smile, "but, considering our circumstances, I guess we can't take even that for granted. And in that case, I can say the honor was all mine. Keep up with your training, but don't neglect your studies either. You never know when those boring school lessons might come in handy. Remind me to tell you about the time Han Solo used liquid hydrogen to destroy a Yuuzhan Vong warship with the fusion explosions caused by its own dovin basals." He turned to the younger brother. "Take care of yourself, Ruwee. Keep him on task for me, and don't forget that I expect to hear great things about you, too."

"Yes, Master Skywalker."

"All right, Ben," Mara said, gesturing into the ship. "Go get the warm-up started."

Pleased to be given the responsibility, Ben waved his last to his cousins and hurried inside.

Luke and Pooja stood looking at each other as the thrusters began to hum. He finally smiled and reached to clasp her hand. "Thank you, Pooja. This has honestly been one of the most memorable adventures of my life, which is really saying something."

"I can imagine," Pooja laughed. "And I can say the same. Don't stay away too long, Luke, and whatever happens, don't forget that we're always here for you. But, practically speaking, I'd appreciate it if you had mercy on an old woman and only called during Theed's daylight hours."

Luke laughed with her, and nodded. "I can do that," he promised. He lingered, and Mara could see that he wanted more than a handshake, but wasn't going to risk any presumptions. Pooja spared him the trouble, drawing him into a warm hug that had been fifty years coming. Mara was happy for them both, and she realized that she actually wouldn't be sorry if a similar reunion fell into her own lap. She still wasn't willing to go hunting for it, though. She doubted Palpatine had left anyone for her to find.

"Goodbye for now, Mara," Pooja said over the growing noise, releasing Luke and clasping her hand in turn. "Take care of him for me."

"I always do," Mara assured her as she and Luke finally headed up the ramp. "Although, feel free to swing by if you ever want to help. He's a handful."

It didn't take long before the Jade Shadow was ready to fly, and everyone strapped themselves in for takeoff.

"Everybody ready?" Mara asked.

"All set," Luke confirmed from the copilot's seat.

"Ready," Ben said from behind them.

"Secured," said Nanna, speaking for herself and Artoo.

Back to their regularly-scheduled lives, although Mara knew their lives would never be quite the same again. They would be better.

They received clearance from spaceport control, and the Jade Shadow rose smoothly into the air. The Palace loomed on the near horizon, brilliant in the morning sun, and Mara felt a thousand emotions pulling Luke back towards it. He exhaled very deliberately, bringing some discipline to bear on those unruly sentiments without burying them completely. Then he smiled as one, two, three flights of starfighters sailed out of the hangar in perfect formation and turned to follow them.

"Jade Shadow, this is Commander Meera with the Naboo Royal Guard. With your permission, Your Grace, we will accompany you into orbit."

"I might have expected Archana wouldn't let you go so easily," Mara muttered, trying to force the smile off her face.

Luke turned to her with a look she would almost describe as self-satisfied. "Thanks for the escort, Commander," he transmitted back. "Give our compliments to the queen."

It was a nice gesture, Mara decided. Too often Luke had to contend with authority figures expecting him to perform miracles on demand, carping at him about problems that were beyond his control, disappointed that he was still in many ways just as human as the next man. The Naboo weren't asking anything of him, just happy to honor him for who he was, and that kind of appreciation could go a long way.

"So, Mom," Ben ventured dryly as the fighters fell in behind them and they all climbed hard for space, "you're still going to tell me Dad isn't a prince?"