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SWFF: Last of the Jedi Episode IX
By Marie Wadsworth
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Not rated by the Author.
Leia comes to ask Luke to help teach her a Jedi skill that will help her with Queen Everon. Luke learns about his mother.
The day was already in progress by the time he returned to his quarters.
Luke entered the quaint, sparsely decorated apartment the Alliance had given him.
He hadn't gotten any sleep that night. Actually he didn't remember the last time he slept.
He sighed. He slumped down on the couch. Concentrating he used the Force to refresh himself.
A twinge of guilt filled him. Yoda would rap his knuckles for using the Force for something so trivial.
He knew he should sleep, but he didn't want to. After he left the victory celebrations at Endor, he'd been having these visions, much like he had of Leia and Han -- except Trisha was in them.
He pushed those thoughts from his mind. Slowly he rose, moving from the living room to bedroom. He rummaged through his closet. He had some remotes hidden in one of these boxes.
He dug three remotes out of the boxes in the back of the closet. He returned to the den and switched them on.
Holding his ignited lightsaber in front of him, the remotes hovered around him. A monotonous hum tickled his ear, then bolts fired at him randomly in every direction. He twisted and turned in an elaborate dance routine.
His mini training session was interrupted by a persistent buzzing at his apartment door. He stretched out with the Force. It was Leia.
With a slight gesture, the remotes lost their power, lowering harmlessly to the coffee table near the door. He closed down his lightsaber, returning it to his belt. He pushed buttons on a console on the wall, which commanded the door to open.
Leia smiled at him as she walked into his apartment. Her eyes swept around the room. Her gaze caught a glint of metal objects on the table near the door.
She eyed the remotes suspiciously. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No," her brother said picking up the remotes and throwing them into a closet. He slowed moved over to the couch and took a seat at the left end of the leather piece of furniture.
He relaxed his slim, athletic body on the couch, crossing his right leg over his left. He was so calm and casual, and there were days she wished she could be just like him.
She admired her brother. She remembered what the queen said he was really quite handsome.
"What can I do for you?" He said almost as if he timed the right moment to speak.
Her hand skimmed the top of the antique chair across from him. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to come with me to speak to the queen."
"You don't need me," he said coolly.
She raised her eyebrow. "Oh?"
"You don't need me," he rose from his seat pacing near the edge of the coffee table in front of the couch. "To tell you the queen's not to be trusted."
"You know something don't you?"
"There's something," he said ominously, his lips turning upside down into a frown as his concentration deepened. "But I can't pinpoint it."
"Maybe you can teach me that," she suggested softly.
He wore a chiseled, even expression. "What brought this on?"
"A couple recent discussions with Han," she said with a frown.
"If you're doing this to please him, you're doing it for the wrong reason," he said, his gentle blue eyes shifted toward her. "I wish I had another option to offer you; I don't.
"I'll admit I don't exactly know how to train you, and I don't have anyone to ask," his finger stroked the thin thoughtful line of his lips. "Still Yoda told me to pass on what I learned so if you let me try..."
His sentence just dangled there as his soft laughter filled the air.
"What's so funny?" She smiled, enjoying hearing her brother laugh. He rarely let loose.
Amusement danced in his eyes. "Yoda would tan my hide if he heard me say I'd try to do anything; I can hear Trisha and Alestra ranting about having to try to keep it from back firing."
"Trisha and Alestra are amazing," she said looking at him worriedly. "You know the queen's going to figure out Trisha's not around and try to fix you up permanently."
"I can always tell her attachments are forbidden for a Jedi."
"Is that true ?" Leia asked.
"I don't know," he murmured. He'd been reading Ben's journal and he recalled something about the restrictions placed on the Jedi of the Old Republic. He wondered if these restrictions were a thing of the past since Yoda and Ben had never mentioned them during his training.
"If only there was a crash course on probing the queen's mind," she mused, mostly to herself.
A momentary silence fell between them. He was lost deep in his thoughts and she, in hers.
"You wanted to know about our mother," she said softly.
His expression softened. "I..."
She took his hands in hers. "Luke, I want to help."
"I'm not sure you can."
"What do you mean?" She said perplexed.
He let go of her hands, turning away slightly. "I have mental blocks."
"I see," she said.
A sea of emotions crashed over his face. "Did you want to try anyway?"
"Do you?" She said, not wanting to push him.
He nodded. He gestured toward the couch and they sat down facing each other.
"What do I do?" She asked him.
He exhaled a long, deep breath. "... calm ... peace ..."
She absorbed the relaxed nature and serenity of his voice, letting herself become one with it.
"... let yourself go ... " his voice faded into the heightened state she was now in.
A kaleidoscope of images roared around her like a tornado. She didn't know how to control them; they shrieked at her like a hawk soaring on a breezy horizon.
Through the haze, a woman, dressed in a pure white gown, lay flat on the table. Her long, dark brown locks of hair surrounded her oval face. Tears flowed from her eyes as she screamed in quiet agony.
A surgical droid circled out from behind the tent, cradling in its padded arms a tiny infant, already swabbed clean and breathing, but without even the hint of tears.
The droid announced softly, "It's a boy."
The woman reached for him with her trembling free hand, but she had no strength to take him; she could only touch her fingers to the baby's forehead.
She smiled weakly, "Luke..."
The other droid now rounded the tent as well, with another clean, quietly solemn infant. "... and a girl."
"Leia," the woman muttered, falling back against her pillow.
"Padme, your twins need you," Obi-Wan said to the woman in a sad voice. "Please hang on."
She didn't seem to hear him. Padme reached across with her free hand, with the hand she had laid upon the brow of her firstborn son, and pressed something into Obi-Wan's palm.
For a moment, her eyes cleared, and she knew him.
"Obi-Wan ... there ... is still good in him. I know there is ... still..."
Her voice faded to an empty sigh, and she sagged back against the pillow. Half a dozen different scanners buzzed with conflicting alarm tones, and the medical droids shooed him from the room.
It was over. She blinked, and looked over at her brother sitting across from her. His face buried in his hands. He was sobbing.
She caressed her brother's broad shoulders. "Let it out, Luke."
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