Out of the Shadows 14

Dagobah

Yoda stretched his tired and aching frame and, as he did first thing every morning, reached out for the bright reassuring presence of his apprentice. He’d once said that the boy had no patience; he could not say that now. He’d also said that Luke was too old to begin the training, that there was too much anger in him but he couldn’t say that now either. The boy had long surpassed all of his expectations, overcoming many of the obstacles with a success that Yoda had once thought Luke could never achieve. Luke was everything a Jedi Knight should be but had managed to retain a little of his own youthful spirit and, despite everything, some of his naive idealism still remained as well as his faith in the innate goodness of others. Yoda decided that it was more than he and Obi-Wan deserved. They hadn’t been fair to Luke and had judged him on his father’s character. They’d been wrong.

For generations the Jedi had trained children from infancy, often taking them away from their families as babies, so that they’d never known another life – would never know the dependency of being a child for its parents, the love of a mother and a father. It had always been a considered risk to take on those that were too old. Perhaps Palpatine might never had succeeded had they a few more Luke Skywalkers amongst the ranks of the Jedi.

In Luke they’d had no choice. He’d been their only hope – the only Jedi child left alive with the strength to combat both Vader and Palpatine. He had not let them down. Yes, Leia Skywalker had also lived but her destiny lay along another path. She hadn’t had the necessary skills needed to combat the Sith.

Yoda had, over the past few years, wondered if the Jedi had been mistaken for all those hundreds of years in many of their training methods. They’d been justifiably concerned with the high failure rate of older younglings arriving at the Jedi temple for training. Perhaps they’d been more susceptible to the dark side because there had been the doubt of the masters who were too quick to question. If there was an expectation that the student might fail, it was all the more easily done.  Perhaps the masters lacked the confidence in their own ability to train those, who by experiencing more of life and its many temptations, would question their methods more thoroughly. Perhaps the council had been weakened by its own ignorance. It became its own self-fulfilling prophecy. They had tried; they had not done.

Luke had passed every test the old Jedi had set for him. Even when he’d at first appeared to fail, the boy had come out of the experience as a survivor, the shadows visible in his clear blue eyes. Yes, he’d been burned or a little scarred but always wiser, heavier with the burdens the slim shoulders had accepted as his lot to bear. Part of Yoda lamented the loss of Luke’s innocence but he knew that experience and pain were the only way that the boy was going to acquire the depth and maturity he needed to fulfil his destiny.

His resemblance to his father had been so strong that on many occasions Yoda had to remind himself that it wasn’t Anakin with all his faults that stood before him. Luke had his father’s strength in the Force but this had been tempered with his mother’s gentleness and determination to see that things were done correctly and the desire to make the galaxy a better, safer place.

“Proud of him you would be, Padme Amidala,” Yoda said to the mud walls of his empty hut. “But with him you should be.” He gave a sigh and shook his head slowly. “Not strong enough to take the pain of Anakin’s turn were you. Helped you more we should have. Knew Anakin’s weakness we did and ignored it at the cost of our lives. Sorry I am.” He hobbled carefully to the door of his hut and pushed it open. Luke always started the day working with his lightsaber in the clearing outside his makeshift dwelling. A good choice this was. The lightsaber was a discipline for the mind as well as the body and the young Jedi had become as accomplished a swordsman as any knight who had lived during the heyday of the Old Republic . An electronic warble reached his ears. Artoo Detoo would be with his young master controlling the firing of the remotes.

Yoda wondered if he had done the right thing in letting the boy come through so much on his own. Should he have insisted on training the princess also? The path of the Jedi had never been a solitary one but Luke had always walked alone. He had kept to the light even though the shade had often beckoned him into its murky depths.

Luke had willingly returned to Dagobah away from his sister and friends to experience what life might have been like for a Jedi initiate during the order’s height, and to take on the final phase of his training. But it could never be what it once was as he was alone. His initial reason had been to prevent more deaths like Dev Sibwarra’s on Bakura but, in fact, Luke had returned not just to learn the ways of the Jedi but how to lead them. This was a very different scenario from anything Luke had envisaged.

For the first time, Luke, was truly beginning to believe that he could do what was required. Yoda, however, wished for others to help him in his task. Luke would have to teach and eventually lead these others. The Force had already allowed Yoda to live longer than he had expected and he knew that it was so that he could finish training Luke for this great responsibility he had to undertake.

Yoda took another couple of steps enjoying the familiar humming sound of the lightsaber as it moved through the air. It was like music to him – but it was a solo, the single voice in the darkness. His apprentice would, one day, turn that solo into an entire chorus - the candle’s flame into a roaring fire.

“Good morning, Master Yoda,” Luke called, calmly parrying a couple more shots. “I wouldn’t go as far as saying that it’s a lovely day but it’s not raining this morning.” The buzzing of the green blade ceased as he shut the saber down.

Yoda stared up at the grey sky, its thick grey clouds obscuring the tops of the gnarl trees around them. “Not yet.”

“Is it the Force that tells you this?” Luke queried, swivelling around to face his master, a warm smile on his lips.

“No, my eyes and my old bones use I do. Just as reliable they are when telling the weather.” The little green Jedi scrutinised Luke’s stance. “Form One,” he stated with certainty.

“I’m revising all my saber exercises,” Luke said. “If I’m to teach saber work, I need to have everything clear in my head and be proficient in all styles. So yes, I started at the beginning.” He re-ignited his saber and let his relationship with the Force intensify. Once upon a time he’d found the instantaneous connection difficult. But now…it wasn’t difficult at all. The Force flowed through him – he was part of it and couldn’t imagine ever functioning without it.

“Seven forms of lightsaber combat there are. All have different qualities.” Yoda moved towards a small, flat boulder and carefully placed himself upon it. He could appreciate the way that Luke moved between positions and Yoda could see the line of Jedi stretching back through Obi-Wan to Qui-Gon Jinn and beyond. “Why must form one practised be?”

Luke grinned as he executed a series of basic duelling moves. “Because this is the foundation that all other styles are built upon. A Jedi’s technique depends upon this. Miss out on this part and there will always be basic flaws. This is where the strength and accuracy comes from.”

“Correct. Form two?”

Luke immediately pivoted and executed several neat, rapid slashes with the green humming blade. “I’m not so good at this method,” he muttered, with a slightly wilder slash at one of the bolts that Artoo’s remote had started to fire rapidly in his direction. “But I can envisage how it could build up speed and dexterity. It is extremely precise. A good discipline and one I need more time to perfect.”

“Fell out of favour this style did,” admitted Yoda. “A form of art this was considered to be. Many healers and diplomats this style favoured. Less effective in battle and not used much since the Clone Wars. Count Dooku – an able Jedi till the dark side he discovered – was much admired for his skill in this form.” Yoda assessed Luke’s movements. “Right you are, young one. Not so good in this are you. But worse I have seen. Improved you have. More flexible wrist action need you. Alter the angle of your fingers. ”

“Like this?” Luke asked as he adjusted his grip on the hilt of his saber and attempted a couple of practise jabs. “That certainly makes it easier,” he admitted.

“Good…” Yoda nodded and turned his head towards Artoo and winked. The droid gave a little gurgle and changed the direction of his firepower.

“Ow! Artoo!” Luke complained, as one of the droids shots sneaked through his guard. The little astromech gave a merry peal of electronic laughter. “Lucky,” he muttered under his breath, but didn’t look in the direction of his master as he rubbed his behind.

Yoda smiled, refraining from voicing the favourite Jedi maxim that there was no such thing as luck. “Form three?”

“Form three was defensive,” Luke answered and then gave a resigned sigh as two more remotes floated up towards him from the aged Jedi’s hands. “Not fair,” he complained, but there was no heat to his words as his grin widened.

“The Jedi, guardians of peace and justice they were. Not every being wants such things. Attack they do, learn to defend the Jedi must. The Force is used to protect and defend, never to attack. Fair does not always enter into an opponent's mind.” He lifted a finger and all four remotes began firing at Luke simultaneously.

“Stang!” muttered Luke. He immediately pivoted and began chopping his green blade, blocking the shots with ease. “I’m quite familiar with the defensive shot. My amazing galaxy-wide popularity meant that this happened to me often – way too often.”

“Personal you should not take this.”

“I know. But some of them have never even met me. How do they know that they don’t like me? I’m really a nice guy.” He dropped to one knee and parried another couple of shots sending one of them into the bark of the nearest tree with a solid thud.

Yoda called off the remotes. “This progresses into form V which already you use regularly. More acrobatic, more aggressive than form III this is. We look at these other styles tomorrow.”

“Yeah! My research into Form IV told me that it really takes the initiative which the Jedi are not supposed to do.”

“It is a dangerous style to adopt. Proficient in this style your father was. Tomorrow we deal with these and the others.”

Luke shut down his saber and attached it to his belt. He walked across to where Artoo extended his grasping arm which held Luke’s water container. “Thanks, little fella,” he said, giving the round little head an affectionate pat. “Could you run diagnostics with the X-wing for me this morning?”

Artoo beeped an affirmative and began to make his way slowly to where Luke’s ship sat. The young Jedi stood watching him for a moment, the water bottle clutched in his hand, his mind wandering. He lifted the bottle to his lips and drank thirstily.

Yoda watched his apprentice sensing Luke’s mind move far away from what he had been doing. “Thoughts you have…memories?”

“I used form one on Bespin backed up by form three. On the second Death Star I was far more aggressive. I had to be and it was form V that I used, now that I think about it. I never over-analyse my fights. I suppose I’m too glad to get out of them alive.”

“Saw it I did. Aggressive you were, fought for your life and the future of the Jedi. Turn you did not.”

“No, I did not turn.”

“But with you every day the dark side is.”

“I can feel its power but I will not give in to it.”

“That I know.”

“It’s almost a comfort to know where my boundaries are, to feel the edge of the dark side and know what I must never do.”

“Be mindful still, Luke. Ever cautious.”

The young Jedi nodded. “I will.” He brushed a strand of hair from his eyes. I meant to get this cut on Druckenwell…”

“But other things on your mind you had. Next time.”

“Yes, Master.” He checked his wrist chrono. “It’s time for my training run.” Luke indicated the harness that Yoda had once used to travel on his back. “I found this. It was in my X-wing’s storage compartment. Do you want to come? It would be just like old times.”

Yoda’s eyes widened and then he gave an exasperated shake of his head. “Think I’m a youngling of eight hundred and fifty do you? Time to meditate for me this is.”

“I think you’re making excuses, Master. Once…”

“Unbecoming in a Jedi this sense of humour is.”

Luke grinned. “I disagree. Laughter is a powerful tool. There was too little of it around when the Emperor was still alive.”

“True.” Yoda chuckled. “You are learning young one.”

Luke shook his head. He retreated to his makeshift home and emerged minus his shirt. The sky was overcast but the atmosphere was hot and heavy. The garment would only need washing afterwards as he appeared to have a fatal attraction to grime. Yoda watched with an inscrutable expression on his wrinkled face as Luke disappeared from view.

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Kaellin III

Night fell quickly and with a blackness that only seemed to happen in the Outer Rim territories. Kaellin III, a small, quiet, backwater planet in the Malenstorr system, was definitely not a central part of galactic politics. The population would be surprised to hear that anyone in the Core region even knew of its meagre existence. Even the nightlife seemed to go about their business in relative silence.

Well, not quite total silence. Two figures hurried up the hill in the dark, threading their way through a veritable village of small white square boxes which sufficed as a makeshift camp, their audible puffing and panting giving a hint to their anxiety.

“I don’t know how this could have happened, Doctor Malik,” the taller of the two men, the dig’s Chief of Security, Eryyk Byb, wheezed.

“Neither do I. I could perhaps have understood if they’d taken things of value – the gold statues that were found yesterday were still right where we’d found them.”

Byb began to jog slowly. “Jetang…was completely…overpowered,” he panted.

Malik paused, still breathing heavily, as he considered his companion’s words thoughtfully. “No, he wasn’t ‘overpowered’. The stun blast took him completely by surprise but there’s not a mark upon him – he wasn’t touched. The problem is, he doesn’t know how long he’s been out for. It could have happened several hours ago which means that the thief could be well away or we might have just missed the attack by minutes. Doctor Rule isn’t going to be happy about this.”

“She’s very…”

“Intimidating? Was that the word you were looking for, Byb?”

“Yes.” He paused again, trying to catch his breath. He wasn’t as fit as he used to be and he missed the accompanying stormtrooper squadrons that had once accompanied all the digs Doctor Rule and her colleagues once took. “Which one…” He gestured at the rows of identical square shapes in front of them.

“She’s one of the foremost xenoarcheologists in the entire galaxy. She’s not got to that position easily.” Malik pointed to a hut set slightly apart from all the others further up the hill. “She has the largest of the temporary structures while on planet.”

“Doctor…Doctor Rule,” Byb shouted as he ran towards her hut.

Malik took a deep breath and knocked loudly on the door of the makeshift accommodation allotted to the head of the archaeological team while they were on Kaellin III.

“Doctor…”

“I heard you, Professor Malik.” The cultured voice was low and tired. “I’m just coming.” The door slid back revealing a slender, attractive woman in her mid forties, her face still fogged with sleep. She tugged a thick dark robe around her body. “What is it?”

Her assistant rubbed his eyes wearily before looking up at her. “There’s been some sort of incident at the site. Some of the finds we unearthed this morning have disappeared.”

“Disappeared!” her voice shot up sharply and the drowsiness vanished from her expression. “The gold statue of the goddess…”

“No, all the treasure was left untouched…”

“Then…” Her expression changed. “Not the Jedi finds?” she said sharply.

Malik’s face told her the answer. The container holding various items possibly of Jedi origin had been removed. “We do not know if they are Jedi…” he said lamely. “We suspect they’re Jedi but it’s not been proven and...”

“Of course they are,” Folla Rule uttered brusquely cutting him off. “There’s no doubt in my mind. It’s what I was trained to do under the Empire - look for Jedi artefacts - and now I do the same job for the New Republic . It makes no difference to me who is charge – I do not have a political agenda. I work to preserve and find treasures of the past. I just wish whoever was in power would look after their antiquities better. I have been researching the Jedi for many, many years. Such an interest was normally punishable by death. I was lucky to have been given the freedom I had. Come in.” She turned her back on them and marched back into her quarters switching on the small desk luma in the corner of the room. She trained her gimlet-like gaze on the nervous looking Byb hovering just inside the door. “What has security got to say about all of this?”

Professor Malik’s companion’s face paled. “Our man was felled by a stun blast – out cold for hours we think. He’s an experienced guard. He didn’t see or hear anyone.”

“Nothing at all?”

The security chief shrugged. “He didn’t hear or see anyone,” he repeated.

“Excuse me while I change.” Doctor Rule disappeared into the back room of the temporary shelter and emerged minutes later, fully dressed, her hair tightly braided into one long dark rope falling down her back and with two blaster pistols in low-slung draw holsters hung against her slim hips. She was armed and could use them quite effectively.  No one else was removing anything without her say so. “I want to get down to the site and see what damage has been done.”

Byb tried to make amends. “The speeder is ready to go.”

The ride back to the site didn’t take long. Immediately, Doctor Folla Rule leapt from the vehicle and charged into the small temple. Five minutes later she walked back outside and scanned the surrounding area as if the perpetrators of the crime would suddenly appear from under the scrubby brush that grew near the temple. “They’ve taken the scrolls, the data rods and the lightsaber. I could have traced the owner of that weapon.” She slumped onto the dusty ground, her dark eyes listless.

“Doctor Rule…Folla?” Malik bent over her in concern. He hadn’t seen a lightsaber. It hadn’t been in the wooden box with the rest of the stuff. “I did not see…”

“This wasn’t a well-known operation. Only the University and certain members of the Senate Council knew what we were searching for. We couldn’t risk pirates and treasure hunters finding out about our assignments. Hopefully the powers that be won’t cut our funding after this. I can’t afford to lose any more decent assistants.”

“We were looking for the Jedi items?” Malik was stunned, wondering if he’d just heard a threat in his boss’s voice. He’d been overjoyed when the gold statue of the goddess Aleema had been found. He’d assumed that this was the type of article they were hunting for.

“We were not originally searching for Jedi artefacts but considering that this was once an outpost for the members of this vanished order…” She drew a booted foot back and forth across a patch of soil. “On the other hand, the statue is a bonus and if nothing more is said about the rest...” Her lips firmed into a thin line. “The public will pay good credits and queue to see it when it goes on display in the museum.”

Malik sighed. He was second-in-charge of this operation and he hadn’t been told about this. These things were integral to their work and he had not been informed. A slow anger began to burn inside but he was a professional and his job was to assist the doctor. Something teased his memory and he thought it could be important. “A box of Jedi artefacts was recently stolen from a library on Praesitlyn.”

“Speculation,” Folla snapped. “I never saw the contents.”

“I’d heard that Princess Leia Organa saw some of the items over the holonet – including lightsabers.”

“Princess Leia Organa of the Royal House of Alderaan is very interested in the Jedi for some reason.” Folla’s voice was hard. “I wonder why?”

“Probably because of her friendship with Commander Skywalker.”

“Commander Skywalker! Hah!” she said disgustedly.

“They served together in the Rebellion,” Malik said. “And he’s a Jedi – the only one as far as we know.”

“Not proven. Until I meet him face to face and he waves his lightsaber at me or performs one of their magic tricks I am unconvinced. When I see him do that, then I might believe that he’s real. 'A half-trained boy – my sources tell me that's all he is. I’ve studied the Jedi and the artefacts they’ve left behind. ‘Left’ being the operative word. The Jedi are a dead civilisation and I’ve seen little evidence of a return to life.”

“When he returns from his current mission…”

“Current mission?” She shook her head. “There’s been no sight or sound of the man for about three years. He’s not been to visit me at the University and ask about my research into ancient artefacts. To me that’s somewhat odd. I am the expert in such things.” She wasn’t boasting; she was just stating a fact. “In fact, I don’t think he’s set foot on Coruscant at all.”

Malik shifted uneasily. “We need to contact Coruscant, Doctor Rule.”

“Why?”

“We need official investigators out here if things are missing from the site and I have to report to the University funding committee.”

Folla’s dark eyes narrowed coldly. “I hadn’t pegged you as a spy for the establishment, Malik.”

The little rotund man stopped his agitated fussing and looked at the woman strangely. “That’s a peculiar thing for you to say, Doctor. You are employed by the university as am I. Although I enjoy what I do, I am dependent on the governors for my salary. You are the head of this excavation and I am honoured to be learning so much from such an acknowledged expert. But our main artefact of value is the gold statue – suppose they grabbed the wrong object by mistake. We must get it back to the university and safekeeping for a proper examination.”

“Of course.” She pulled a small, beeping data pad from one of her pockets and checked the information written on the screen. “I have to return to the Core immediately in any case. There has been a new discovery on Coruscant itself.”

Malik had worked with Doctor Folla Rule for just over three years and he was one of the first to admit that he did not understand her at all. She was a brilliant academic but difficult to work for and he did not understand this sudden obsession with the Jedi. He couldn’t recall her ever being this fanatical about the subject before.

She looked at him, the expression on her face one of amusement. “You are wondering about my attitude,” she stated calmly. “I have no love for the Jedi, nor do I dislike them. They are simply a vanished race of beings that I have been allowed to study. Originally I was granted the right to study them by Emperor Palpatine himself because their corrupt behaviour had endangered the galaxy and now – I merely study them. They allowed a vast organisation to just disappear and that takes some doing. A real live specimen would be interesting; however, I do not think that they exist any more apart from Jedi Skywalker and that’s hardly encouraging.” She stalked back into the temple and stared at the remaining items. “I do object to my research materials being interfered with.”

A grey dawn was beginning to streak the sky and the Doctor tiredly checked her wrist chrono. “I’ll have to leave very shortly, Malik. I have a meeting with someone in the government about an area the council would like the university to study. I need, however, to make them refrain from any building work in a certain sector for the foreseeable future. They are not going to like that.” She frowned and then turned her attention to a tall man with a serious face and prematurely greying hair who entered the small temple bowing his head respectfully to whatever deity had once been worshipped there.

“Ah…Kam. Could you wake the workers?”

“Yes, Doctor,” he murmured quietly.

“I need to talk to them before I leave for Coruscant. You haven’t noticed any strangers around this area in the last few days, have you?” she asked.

“No, Doctor.”

She stared at him as if she was trying to test his truthfulness without telling him the reason why. He was merely an employee but had proved to be quiet and hardworking. “They need to be extra vigilant. We are dealing with rare and precious things.”

“Of course, Doctor.” He withdrew quietly.

She stared after him for a moment. Kam wasn’t a trained scholar but had been found to have a natural affinity for working in this field. This was the first excursion he had accompanied them on and she would recommend that he be used again. “Malik, go ahead - contact the university and the security services,” she ordered. “You’re itching to do so. In any case, I do want a team sent out here to investigate.” 

“I have drafted out a request to the Prime Minister. We will see that the spaceports are monitored although I fear we are already too late.”

She moved back to the speeder. “Kam, take me back to the camp and then to the spaceport.”

“Of course, Doctor Rule.”

“And Malik…Pack the gold statue for transportation. I’ll take it with me just in case the thief comes back.”

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The tall, serious-faced man whom Folla Rule had ordered to chauffeur her to the spaceport let out a sigh as he returned the speeder to the camp. With an unhurried stride he moved towards the tiny hut he’d been given as his quarters. Since the dark times in his life had ended he had moved around the galaxy frequently, never staying for very long in any one place, picking up work where he could. His lips tightened into a flat line. He’d learned to fit in with the beings around him; not to do so would have meant his death. He owed too much to far too many beings to just give up and die. He had a mission again and it felt good.

The security officer, Byb, shuffled forward. “We need to search your belongings,” he muttered apologetically.

“Of course,” Kam said calmly and pointed to the meagre pile of possessions – all his possessions in fact – contained in two shabby bags. “I have nothing to hide,” he said waving his hand in a circular motion.

Byb’s eyes took on a glazed expression. “You have nothing to hide.”

“Everything is fine?” Kam asked, his grey eyes intent.

“Everything is fine,” the security guard repeated.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Byb moved from Kam’s quarters and headed towards the next one, not realising that he hadn’t even touched Kam’s things, let alone searched them.

Kam’s mouth took on a bitter twist. He hadn’t known exactly what was being searched for by the team of archaeologists when he’d taken a job as a labourer but he soon guessed what they were after once the first set of scrolls had been unearthed. Folla Rule’s eyes had gleamed with covetousness but not at the golden statue of the Goddess Aleema. He had known that this place had been used by the Jedi at one time. That was one of the reasons he had come to this world.

He had once been a Jedi as had his father before him. But that was before the dark times, before the Empire.

Doctor Folla Rule was a brilliant woman but she did not - could not - understand the ways of his kind. These things did not belong in a museum – they needed to be used and understood by those with the power of the Force. And then, they’d broken into a lower chamber where the gold statue had been found. Kam had seen the lightsaber resting in a niche, hidden behind a boulder. He had returned last night and had removed it before its hiding place had been discovered. He was sure that none of the academics had noted its presence and something told him he had to remove it immediately. It was a feeling he both knew and trusted.

He’d been right. A matter of a mere few hours later someone had stolen everything else of Jedi origin that they had uncovered in the temple.

He reached into his bag and pulled away a couple of faded tunics to reveal the silver cylinder. He didn’t dare ignite it to see if it still worked. It was too dangerous. These people had no business here. They were messing with things that they didn’t understand.

The lightsaber was his by right. He’d almost given away its location because as soon as he’d seen it he’d recognised it. How could that particular saber have come to be in this place? It had belonged to his father. He’d seen it often enough hanging from his father’s belt and had used it himself as his father had trained him in the art of wielding the symbol of the Jedi. But his father's last movements in the dying days of the Old Republic had been unknown to him. He’d almost convinced himself that he was mistaken but as soon as his calloused fingers had closed over the hilt he had felt the calming presence of his father for the first time in many years.

Once, he had hoped to follow in his father’s footsteps but, lonely and bitter at the fate of the galaxy under Emperor Palpatine; Kam Solusar had descended into a dark haze. The dark side had claimed him for its own.

The news of the Emperor’s death had lifted him from his troubles, yet he still felt restless, rootless and tired. The lines on his face deepened as he brooded over what the fate of the Jedi was to be. Who would lead them? He certainly could not and the news of a Force-strong boy with limited training did not instil him with lasting confidence. He’d given up the darkness but had been unable to find the light. He ran his fingers across the lightsaber casing, smoothing over the familiar instrument as if he’d never been parted from it or its original wielder.

He’d had to steal the saber but hadn’t touched the other items. He, too, had heard of the disappearance of the items on Praesitlyn. Why would someone want to find Jedi artefacts apart from other Jedi? There were several reasons, both light and dark. Kam hoped it was the former though he couldn’t shake off the sensation of darkness around him. But then he’d had many years to get used to the cold seductive power of darkness. He could still be tainted by the darkness himself. His father had often chanted the mantra to him. “Once you start along the path to the dark side it will forever dominate your destiny.” Kam curled up on his bedroll and pulled one of his blankets across his thin shoulders. It was true – every single word. He would check again in the morning but he was sure that they had discovered everything of importance by now. He now had to head for Coruscant also. Whatever Doctor Rule wanted to see, Kam decided that he needed to see. It would just take him longer than he liked to get there. This job had paid but not well enough to travel direct and living in the Core was expensive.

He also had to find more information on the New Republic ’s sole Jedi Knight, Luke Skywalker. After the death of Palpatine the young man had gone on one more mission for the Rebel Alliance and directly after that, he had disappeared. He had to find the whereabouts of the young man. His life could be in danger but the peculiar thing was that no one in the New Republic seemed to be unduly concerned. Perhaps they knew where he was. Kam Solusar, with the discovery of his father’s lightsaber, knew what he wanted out of his life more than anything else. He wanted to be a Jedi Knight again and if Skywalker couldn’t help him, he would do it on his own.

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Coruscant

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Han said softly, as he helped Leia into their waiting speeder.

“Sorry?” she queried, confused.

“I’m sorry that I ran out of patience and I went and hired Karrde to search for Luke.”

“Why?”

He turned his head away from her and stared blankly at the lanes of traffic. “I knew you didn’t really want me to disturb the Kid from whatever he’s studying but I was so sick of not knowing what had happened to him and why he had left us. At first it was kinda easy. The Kid was just away on another mission and we would see him in a couple of weeks but the time grew longer and longer and he still wasn’t coming home. We’re his family and he should be with us.” He glanced quickly at her and then away again, his face tinged with red, his air one of embarrassment. “I…” He hesitated, not sure whether or not to continue.

“Go on,” Leia whispered.

“Aw…hell, princess,” he muttered. “You know I’m not too good at all the mushy stuff.”

“What kind of ‘mushy’ stuff?”

“The ‘will you love me forever the way I love you and marry me’ mushy stuff.” The last four words were ejected rapidly from Han’s mouth as he began to gabble. “If you’re not ready…I can wait…”

“What!” Leia knew that Han loved her but she hadn’t expected a proposal.

“You heard me.”

“I heard a stream of words running faster than a hyperdrive engine.”

“But you heard them.”

“Yes.”

“I meant them.” Han’s face held no amusement. “I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

“You’re serious!” she exclaimed awed.

“Yes.” Han started the engine and eased the speeder into one of the busy traffic lanes. For a few minutes there was silence between them. “Surely you knew that. Where you, I and our relationship are concerned, I’m always serious.”

“But marriage…”

“Is right for us.” Han concentrated on his flying, easily moving amongst countless other small craft. “I’m fed up reading about all the Dukes and Princes you’re about to marry. I want to read holos screaming all over the galaxy about Leia Organa marrying a former Corellian smuggler. I love you and want you to be with me. I want to come home to you every time. You’re the reason I’m here, Leia.”

“I want that too but…”

“But nothing!” he said through gritted teeth. “We’ve spent enough time apart. Luke would agree with me.”

“But…” Leia wondered at her sudden inability to form a coherent sentence.

“He’s been away from us long enough, sweetheart. I want him back so that I can ask his approval for your hand in marriage. I want to do it properly as befits the last Princess of Alderaan.”

“His permission?”

“No, his approval.”

“What if he didn’t give it?” Leia asked curiously.

Han gave a burst of mocking laughter. “Then we let Jade kill him.”

Leia removed all traces of amusement from her expression. “It’s worth considering,” she said thoughtfully. “Would she do it?”

“What!” Han’s mouth dropped open as his eyes darted to Leia’s face and then away again, back to his piloting.

“It’s a joke but we could keep the threat hanging over his head.”

“That’s what I thought,” Han said virtuously. “Never hurts to have a back up plan.”

“Now you start thinking of one of those - after how many years?”

“Must be six or seven by now,” he said thoughtfully.

Leia moved and gently pressed herself against him. “However, you must remember that he is my brother and I’m very fond of him.”

“Then we get her to maim him slightly. He’s used to that. He’s one of the reasons bacta is still in short supply.” He eased the speeder and docked at the landing stage of an impressive skyhook. He turned and leered at her, his manner suggestive. “I want you in all the right ways and the wrong ones, sweetheart.”

“Nerf.”

“Listen, Leia…” he said urgently, the joking manner fading away.

Leia’s mouth curved into a warm, slightly tremulous smile. “I’m listening, hotshot.”

“He’s your brother and my best friend, apart from Chewie, and I want him there at our wedding…if you’ll have me.”

Leia opened her mouth to answer but Han shook his head and pressed a finger to her lips. “No, listen until you’ve heard everything I have to say. I want to know that we’re together, that I have the right to be by your side. I don’t want to hear about you marrying the eligible bachelor of the week in a bid to bail out any financial problems the New Republic may have.”

“The New Republic is fine – well, they don’t need me marrying the Duke to bail them out,” Leia interrupted him, her eyes shining with love.

“And hell, Leia,” he swore. “I never meant to propose in a borrowed speeder in the middle of the Coruscant airborne traffic system during rush hour but I couldn’t wait any longer.” There was an awkward silence. “Well?” he demanded.

“You told me not to say anything,” Leia reminded him archly.

“Until I’d finished.”

“You finished now?”

“Of course I’m finished,” he growled.

Leia was about to tease him some more until she took in the way his hands were gripping the speeder’s controls. Only Han could ask her to marry him in one of the busiest speeder lanes on the planet. She wouldn’t have it any other way and Han was the only man she would ever say yes to. She loved him and that was worth far more to her than a fortune of billions of credits.

She leaned against him, uncaring that they were sitting in a speeder while Coruscant’s life buzzed around them.  “Yes, I’ll marry you, you old scoundrel.”

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