Definitions of Destiny: Chapter 15
Title: Definitions of Destiny
Author: Caryn B
Fandom: Star Wars (film canon only - see notes)
Timeline: 6 months after RotJ
Pairing: Luke/Han, slash
Rating: NC-17 overall; this chapter PG-13
Warnings: None
The list of chapters is here
Chapter 15
Three days after leaving Arudin, Luke brought the Chandrilan cruiser down in the desolate mining colony of Polis Massa. He studied the place through the cockpit window. They'd arrived at the asteroid's only landing pad - a flat, gray expanse of rock only marginally distinguishable from the rest of the asteroid by its smoother surface. A transparisteel tunnel led from the bay into the center of Polis Massa's main settlement, and Luke watched as a small group of the unfamiliar inhabitants maneuvered and activated a portable airlock between the cruiser and the tunnel.
There was no sunlight here, no natural oxygen, and no breeze to disturb the overwhelming atmosphere of isolation.
Luke wondered, not for the first time, about his private reasons for wanting to travel with the Senator. Chasing after fragments of the past, which might have no bearing on his future, when there were more urgent problems to be dealt with. It felt like a delaying tactic - an excuse for further avoidance of the decisions he knew he needed to make.
He stood up, fatigue dulling his senses and tightening every muscle. It had been a long flight and he'd had little chance to catch up with much sleep. The Senator had wanted to talk, and Luke, keen to do the same, had struggled to keep going for that very reason. Danu was well-informed considering he'd spent close on two decades in exile, but his knowledge of recent galactic events had huge gaps. It was those he'd wanted to redress, and Luke was a convenient source of information, despite the fact that Luke knew only a little of the Alliance's behind-the-scenes history. He was still relatively new to it himself.
The frustrating thing was that Danu had seemed reluctant to discuss the Jedi, which was surprising for someone who'd been such a close ally of the old Council. Nor had Danu volunteered anything about his father, or the woman Danu had intimated might possibly be his mother. It was as though Danu was waiting for the right moment or a more convenient situation. Luke wondered if their arrival here might prompt Danu to open up about the past a little more.
He could understand the Senator's unwillingness to delve deeply into difficult subjects during the flight. Travel preoccupations and weariness combined were not the ideal circumstances in which to discuss potentially problematic issues.
But none of these personal reservations altered the fact that Mon Mothma and the Senator had asked Luke to undertake the visit in an 'official' capacity. It was an assignment, the same as any other, and he had to take it seriously. And if the Polis Massans had once offered their friendship to the Jedi of the past, then maybe he might find some point of connection to the place.
He still felt strange about the whole visit. It seemed almost fraudulent, as though he was simply borrowing a title he wasn't sure he should lay claim to. He'd done it before, of course. Striding into Jabba's palace with an outward show of confidence and infallibility, calling himself a Jedi Knight and adopting all the customary trappings that went with the name. Like the cloak and the mind tricks.
But that had been a deliberate act, designed to tip the balance in their favor by throwing in that unexpected element. But underneath his self-assured veneer had been a clutter of emotions that were a long way off being contained and controlled, and the sight of Leia chained to Jabba's dais had brought an additional flurry of anger. One that had led to a sudden, impatient move that had nearly cost him his life. How stupid it would've been to have died in the Rancor pit knowing that the recklessness Yoda had criticized him for had put him there.
Yoda had told him he'd become a true Jedi only when he'd confronted his father again. And it had felt right when he'd thrown his lightsaber aside and rejected everything Palpatine had lined up for him. He'd felt a genuine sense of belonging with the term 'Jedi', and his realization that he'd conquered all of his anger and hatred had given him that elusive sense of peace. It had lasted until the return of the doubts that he found so hard to shake off.
This was almost the first time he'd faced the confusion about his role head on. He'd been on plenty of assignments since Endor, but his Jedi side had fitted easily alongside his Rogue Squadron activities and, thanks to Wedge agreeing to joint command, he'd easily made room for both. But usually he was either fighting, or taken along for show. When he'd joined Han and Leia in numerous visits to friendly worlds, confronted by cheering crowds, he'd never felt quite this same feeling of uncertainty as he was feeling now. Then, he'd still been looked on as a Jedi, but more as an object of curiosity and he hadn't had to actually do anything. Now he had to fulfill the expectations of others who were possibly familiar with the Jedi of the past.
But this wasn't the right time to consider this - Senator Danu was waiting for him, as would be the welcoming committee of Polis Massans somewhere deep inside the settlement. He strapped his weapons belt around his hips and flung his cloak over his shoulders. At least he knew how to look the part.
"I've arranged a meeting with the Administrator first," Danu explained, smiling as Luke joined him at the ramp. "After that, we'll get some time to rest before they give us the grand tour. I understand the medical centers are as advanced as any you'd find in the Core, and hopefully we'll find something of interest to the Alliance."
If there could be anything to find here, Luke thought. It was along way from anywhere. But then, so was Tatooine, and some quirk of fate had found him there. And he'd found Han.
"Will they let us see much of their research?" he asked.
Danu shrugged. "I don't know. They do a lot of other stuff here though, besides the clone-cell procedures."
"The research into the past?"
"I believe it's very important to them."
Danu gave a brief nod to the assembled group of Polis Massans, who'd arrived to accompany them through the tunnel. He turned and glanced back up the ramp.
Luke followed his gaze. Artoo had come to a standstill just outside the hatch. He stood there, making soft sounds of protest.
"Come on, they're waiting for us," Luke pointed out to the droid. There was no positive response, and Artoo made no move forwards. He beeped quietly, sounding distressed.
"I know it's strange, but you've been to stranger places," Luke reasoned. "And there are no monsters here. At least, none that I know of."
Artoo reluctantly followed Luke at a distance, making it clear that venturing off the ship was a bad idea in his opinion. It was also obvious that the droid was equally loathe to let Luke out of his sight.
"Your droid's a strange one," Danu said, with some amusement.
Luke laughed. "Since meeting up with me he's had to put up with quite a lot, so you can't really blame him."
The Polis Massans led them to a low repulsorcar that sped them along the tunnel towards the brightly lit towers of the settlement.
The colony's Administrator greeted them with a swift dip of his head, and served them tiny glasses containing a thick, green liquid. The peculiar, syrupy concoction looked cloying and sweet, but was unexpectedly tart. It always amazed Luke that practically everywhere he visited conformed to similar welcoming rituals, yet they always felt unique and had never become repetitive.
As they sipped their drinks, exchanging the customary pleasantries, Luke sensed the Administrator studying him covertly. It wasn't an unusual occurrence. Many people Luke encountered had never seen a Jedi, and if they'd heard of them, they usually had an exaggerated or uninformed opinion as to what one actually was. In the past six months Luke had encountered hatred, awe, indifference, curiosity, reverence and fear in equal measure and had learned to read the subtle body language of many non-human species. From Administrator Que-raik he detected curiosity, but to a greater degree than usual.
"Have you been Administrator here long?" he asked.
"For just over twenty years," Que-raik answered. "My predecessor was here for 150 years, so I'm still something of a newcomer."
"You must have seen some big changes though," Danu said.
Que-raik shrugged slightly. "We're a long way from the center of power. The Empire chose to ignore us, but it didn't make much difference to the way the colony was run. Our research continues regardless of who controls the galaxy - it's just more open now."
"The Alliance is interested in working with you. We have equipment and procedures that might be of use to you, and we're keen to learn from your technicians."
"You're referring to the advances in neural transmitters? Yes, our team here has long wished to confer with your surgical droids on that. As you most likely know, we've been conducting successful experiments in cell cloning for use in medical reconstruction. The combination of our two areas of expertise should lead to further advances."
Que-raik turned to Luke. "Our focus is on the replacement of synthskin with living cloned skin. However, we haven't mastered the technique of true neural integration, without which our cloned skin has a far smaller capacity for sensation than synthskin."
Luke opted for a neutral response, unsure whether the Administrator was making some indirect, personal reference. "It sounds like working together might be the way forward then."
"I can show you our laboratories - I'm sure they'll be of interest to you. It's likely to be a few more years before we've perfected the technique on other species, so there's no guarantee that it will be of immediate benefit to you."
Luke nodded, aware that Danu was looking at him curiously. So it had been a personal remark, and he wondered how the Administrator had known. He took a sip of his drink to calm the edginess the conversation had brought on. The last thing he'd expected on coming here was to be presented as some sort of medical exhibit, designed to demonstrate the success of neural integration.
Danu cleared his throat and steered the conversation in a new direction. "I understand Polis Massa once had links to the old Jedi Council. Both Jedi Skywalker and myself are very interested in the details of that association."
Que-raik looked again at Luke. "It's been many years since we had a Jedi here and your presence is very welcome. The Jedi Council's connection to our world was primarily a historical one. There is evidence that the indigenous inhabitants of Polis Massa were Force-sensitives. The Council was collaborating with our archaeological teams, who've been piecing together the history of the Eellayin. I'll be arranging a visit for you after you've both had a chance to rest."
Que-raik had provided rooms for them in one of the towers that ringed the central hub of the settlement. They'd agreed to meet up again at midday, which gave Luke and Senator Danu several hours in which to catch up with sleep and adjust to the abrupt shift in time their flight had brought about. The Senator hesitated outside the door to Luke's room.
"I'm sorry about before. I'm certain it wasn't Mon Mothma's intention to involve you in anything to do with their medical research. I didn't realize..."
"I know. Don't worry about it," Luke said. He held his hand up, letting the sleeve of his tunic slip back. The soft whirring of the circuits was barely audible over the constant hum of the air conditioners. "They can look at it if it'll help move things along. I guess the Polis Massans have much sharper hearing than we do."
"Probably," Danu agreed. "It'd be difficult to detect it any other way. But it's your choice. You've got enough to think about as it is. Get some sleep first in any case - after all, we've got their grand tour to look forward to."
Luke grinned at him. "It might not be as bad as all that."
"Maybe not," Danu smiled back.
***
Luke lay back on the bed, wondering why it was that whenever he got the chance to rest these days his mind always started to work overtime, making relaxation almost impossible. If he'd been back on Arudin he'd have gone running through the woods until ready to drop from sheer exhaustion. Here, there didn't seem to be anywhere to go, and wandering around the sanitized corridors of the colony didn't appeal. He closed his eyes, willing himself to wind down.
He'd come here hoping for some form of enlightenment, thinking that the break from the Rogues and from Arudin would somehow point him in the right direction. But although it was far too soon to have discovered anything about Polis Massa, he now wondered just why he'd ever thought to find any answers here. Perhaps he'd expected some sense of recognition that he was connected to the place, in view of its past relationship with the Jedi. But whereas on Dagobah he'd been hit by a sudden sense of familiarity and the knowledge that something was there, here he felt nothing. The asteroid struck him simply as a sterile lump of rock, inhabited in a totally artificial way by a race of people who must've become immune to the grayness and lifelessness of the place. But presumably there was more to it than these gleaming towers. Somewhere, the original inhabitants of the once-intact world had left their traces. Maybe in those ancient remains he might perceive a common bond.
Luke turned over onto his side and reached for the chrono he'd put beside the bed. It was the middle of the night on Arudin. And three nights ago he'd been with Han. They'd barely slept at all, too wrapped up in each other to want even that form of separation. Luke wondered wryly just how many unspoken Jedi rules Yoda would consider he'd broken in that one night. Presumably all the ones to do with greed, lust, passion, impatience and lack of restraint. Not to mention misuse of his Jedi training... And if Han was here now, he'd break them all again, given the chance.
He wondered if being unable to control his thoughts fell into the same category. It probably did - he'd been told to be mindful of them often enough, and right now, they seemed to be dominated by his memory of the way Han had touched him. Luke curled up with a short groan, because thinking like this certainly wasn't going to get him any sleep. Artoo trundled up to him, beeping softly.
"No, I'm fine," Luke said. "You power down for a while, and I'll wake you up in a couple of hours."
The whole thing seemed crazy, because if he broke it down into those component emotions, what he felt for Han could be made to sound completely wrong - from a Jedi point of view. But none of those so-called infractions summarized the whole thing adequately. They missed out everything that had to be classified as good. Like trust, support and friendship. They were all part of love too, and wasn't it love that Ben and Yoda had partly counted on? Or was it just his anger they'd wanted?
It was difficult to say, because it'd been love for Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru that'd generated his anger over their deaths. Then the growing bond with Ben, whose sudden death had sustained that anger. And Ben had known how that would work. But both Ben and Yoda seemed to reject the idea of love when it clashed with their cause, both in their reactions to Luke's need to go to Bespin, and their refusal to accept that good still lay within Darth Vader.
And of course, there were different types of love. The Jedi would've approved and appreciated a form of love free from physical desire. An unselfish type of dedication to the happiness of others, undemanding and stable. Ben had spent close on twenty years in the Jundland Wastes, solitary and steadfast, committing his life to watching over Luke from a distance. Had he been happy? There was no way of discovering that now, but if Ben had achieved the ability to free his mind and body from the ties of attachments, then maybe he'd been content. If such a situation presented itself to Luke, could he do as Ben had done? Probably - but he doubted he'd find happiness in it. It was all so difficult. He was so difficult. So damn difficult, as Han had said.
And of course, now he'd allowed his thoughts to dwell on Han, it was inevitable that he'd end up reliving those few moments in the cruiser hangar before he'd left for Polis Massa. Three days later, and he still wasn't sure how to react. He knew why Han had done it, and he also knew that Han would've spent many hours since then worrying that Luke wouldn't have understood his intentions. Over the course of the night they'd spent together, there'd been several occasions when Luke had sensed that Han wanted to say more than he had. But Han had held back, believing Luke wouldn't want any additional pressure. He'd been both right and wrong, and if that was contradictory then Luke felt it probably summed up everything about him these days.
The truth was, it wasn't a contradiction at all, because avoiding the issue had nothing to do with wanting and everything to do with keeping Yoda's teachings in mind. Controlling his emotions. The wanting part was the total opposite, and yes, he wanted that pressure from Han. Wanted to hear Han ask him to stay, to demand some commitment and exact promises from him.
But... there was still Leia, and guilt, and loyalty. And fear of what might happen if something went wrong. How could he forget that clench of anxiety and edge of panic when he'd considered the possibility of failing to rescue Han from Tatooine? Or if the hibernation process had failed, or Han had been unable to shake off the sickness after he'd been released from the carbonite? There were just too many things to consider, and too many repercussions from any course of action he might take.
Clear your mind of questions, Yoda had said. And Yoda had repeatedly implied that he should know the right course to take, simply by taking control of his feelings. You will know. When you are calm, at peace. Passive. Luke drew on the Force, concentrating on shutting off each line of thought, one by one. He drew deep breaths, feeling the Force moving through him, soothing and harmonious. It brought no answers, but it did send him to sleep...
...
A searing, terrifying heat that scorched the soles of his feet even through thick boots, and threatened to boil the blood in his veins.
All around him, a rain of fire and white hot droplets that burned his clothing and stung his skin.
And so much anger and pain.
But hardest of all to bear was the overwhelming aura of betrayal that oozed from the smoldering river of lava, and shadowed him across every heat-warped inch of the walkways.
The place was a living hell, but it had seen emotions and loss more powerful than anything nature could produce. And it held within it an echo of a cry, full of despair and grief...
...
Luke sat up, unsure if that cry had come from his own lips or not. Breathing heavily, he ran a hand through hair that had stuck to his scalp with sweat. He flung himself off the bed, and hit the climate-control panel to allow cooler air into his room. The dream had been intense, leaving him disoriented and uneasy. Beside him, Artoo whirred comfortingly, accustomed to Luke's disrupted sleep patterns which often startled the droid out of his night-time hibernation.
Dreams like that had recurred with persistent regularity throughout his life, but the more in tune with the Force he became, the more vivid were the nightmares. What made them worse was the knowledge that somewhere, in amongst the tangled threads of surreal images, were hard truths.
Things had been like that since he was a child. Aunt Beru had spent countless nights comforting him and sitting with him while he struggled to return to sleep, battling with images that bore little connection to his childhood preoccupations. Chided for having an overactive imagination, he wondered how often his Aunt and Uncle must have questioned their decision to protect him from the truth. Privately, they must have acknowledged the strangeness within him, and accepted that a young child, with no experience of anything beyond a simple farming existence, would never willingly have conjured up such visions.
That they'd known the full truth of what had happened to his father was obvious to him now. Their version of the past was expert and rehearsed, and went hand-in-hand with a vagueness that accompanied his every request for detail. Like his grandmother's death. Killed by the Sandpeople, but he knew no more than that. He'd put Uncle Owen's reluctance to talk about it down to grief, because Aunt Beru had told him that it'd left Owen's father broken and distraught. He'd stayed that way until he died.
Thinking back on the past was doubly hard now, because it seemed to Luke that his family had brought only heartache and suffering to the Lars. Remarrying late in life, Cliegg Lars must've marveled at his new-found happiness, only to have had it brutally snatched away. Then there was Uncle Owen, who must've witnessed the final decline of his father whilst Luke's father was crushing underfoot all the freedoms of the galaxy. Only now could Luke begin to understand the full difficulties his Aunt and Uncle had faced in bringing him up. Having to fear every day for his safety, and to be continually vigilant in protecting him from the wider, shocking truth.
Luke checked the time again and realized he only had another hour before he was due to meet up with Senator Danu again. He stumbled into the adjoining 'fresher and stood under the shower trying to wake himself up properly.
The cool water felt good, especially as part of his mind was still in the burning chaos of his dream. In it, he'd had a sense of Obi-Wan and his father. But who did the feeling of betrayal come from? With all that he'd been told, it should've come from Ben, but Luke was certain he'd felt it in equal measure from them both.
chapter 16
Author: Caryn B
Fandom: Star Wars (film canon only - see notes)
Timeline: 6 months after RotJ
Pairing: Luke/Han, slash
Rating: NC-17 overall; this chapter PG-13
Warnings: None
The list of chapters is here
Chapter 15
Three days after leaving Arudin, Luke brought the Chandrilan cruiser down in the desolate mining colony of Polis Massa. He studied the place through the cockpit window. They'd arrived at the asteroid's only landing pad - a flat, gray expanse of rock only marginally distinguishable from the rest of the asteroid by its smoother surface. A transparisteel tunnel led from the bay into the center of Polis Massa's main settlement, and Luke watched as a small group of the unfamiliar inhabitants maneuvered and activated a portable airlock between the cruiser and the tunnel.
There was no sunlight here, no natural oxygen, and no breeze to disturb the overwhelming atmosphere of isolation.
Luke wondered, not for the first time, about his private reasons for wanting to travel with the Senator. Chasing after fragments of the past, which might have no bearing on his future, when there were more urgent problems to be dealt with. It felt like a delaying tactic - an excuse for further avoidance of the decisions he knew he needed to make.
He stood up, fatigue dulling his senses and tightening every muscle. It had been a long flight and he'd had little chance to catch up with much sleep. The Senator had wanted to talk, and Luke, keen to do the same, had struggled to keep going for that very reason. Danu was well-informed considering he'd spent close on two decades in exile, but his knowledge of recent galactic events had huge gaps. It was those he'd wanted to redress, and Luke was a convenient source of information, despite the fact that Luke knew only a little of the Alliance's behind-the-scenes history. He was still relatively new to it himself.
The frustrating thing was that Danu had seemed reluctant to discuss the Jedi, which was surprising for someone who'd been such a close ally of the old Council. Nor had Danu volunteered anything about his father, or the woman Danu had intimated might possibly be his mother. It was as though Danu was waiting for the right moment or a more convenient situation. Luke wondered if their arrival here might prompt Danu to open up about the past a little more.
He could understand the Senator's unwillingness to delve deeply into difficult subjects during the flight. Travel preoccupations and weariness combined were not the ideal circumstances in which to discuss potentially problematic issues.
But none of these personal reservations altered the fact that Mon Mothma and the Senator had asked Luke to undertake the visit in an 'official' capacity. It was an assignment, the same as any other, and he had to take it seriously. And if the Polis Massans had once offered their friendship to the Jedi of the past, then maybe he might find some point of connection to the place.
He still felt strange about the whole visit. It seemed almost fraudulent, as though he was simply borrowing a title he wasn't sure he should lay claim to. He'd done it before, of course. Striding into Jabba's palace with an outward show of confidence and infallibility, calling himself a Jedi Knight and adopting all the customary trappings that went with the name. Like the cloak and the mind tricks.
But that had been a deliberate act, designed to tip the balance in their favor by throwing in that unexpected element. But underneath his self-assured veneer had been a clutter of emotions that were a long way off being contained and controlled, and the sight of Leia chained to Jabba's dais had brought an additional flurry of anger. One that had led to a sudden, impatient move that had nearly cost him his life. How stupid it would've been to have died in the Rancor pit knowing that the recklessness Yoda had criticized him for had put him there.
Yoda had told him he'd become a true Jedi only when he'd confronted his father again. And it had felt right when he'd thrown his lightsaber aside and rejected everything Palpatine had lined up for him. He'd felt a genuine sense of belonging with the term 'Jedi', and his realization that he'd conquered all of his anger and hatred had given him that elusive sense of peace. It had lasted until the return of the doubts that he found so hard to shake off.
This was almost the first time he'd faced the confusion about his role head on. He'd been on plenty of assignments since Endor, but his Jedi side had fitted easily alongside his Rogue Squadron activities and, thanks to Wedge agreeing to joint command, he'd easily made room for both. But usually he was either fighting, or taken along for show. When he'd joined Han and Leia in numerous visits to friendly worlds, confronted by cheering crowds, he'd never felt quite this same feeling of uncertainty as he was feeling now. Then, he'd still been looked on as a Jedi, but more as an object of curiosity and he hadn't had to actually do anything. Now he had to fulfill the expectations of others who were possibly familiar with the Jedi of the past.
But this wasn't the right time to consider this - Senator Danu was waiting for him, as would be the welcoming committee of Polis Massans somewhere deep inside the settlement. He strapped his weapons belt around his hips and flung his cloak over his shoulders. At least he knew how to look the part.
"I've arranged a meeting with the Administrator first," Danu explained, smiling as Luke joined him at the ramp. "After that, we'll get some time to rest before they give us the grand tour. I understand the medical centers are as advanced as any you'd find in the Core, and hopefully we'll find something of interest to the Alliance."
If there could be anything to find here, Luke thought. It was along way from anywhere. But then, so was Tatooine, and some quirk of fate had found him there. And he'd found Han.
"Will they let us see much of their research?" he asked.
Danu shrugged. "I don't know. They do a lot of other stuff here though, besides the clone-cell procedures."
"The research into the past?"
"I believe it's very important to them."
Danu gave a brief nod to the assembled group of Polis Massans, who'd arrived to accompany them through the tunnel. He turned and glanced back up the ramp.
Luke followed his gaze. Artoo had come to a standstill just outside the hatch. He stood there, making soft sounds of protest.
"Come on, they're waiting for us," Luke pointed out to the droid. There was no positive response, and Artoo made no move forwards. He beeped quietly, sounding distressed.
"I know it's strange, but you've been to stranger places," Luke reasoned. "And there are no monsters here. At least, none that I know of."
Artoo reluctantly followed Luke at a distance, making it clear that venturing off the ship was a bad idea in his opinion. It was also obvious that the droid was equally loathe to let Luke out of his sight.
"Your droid's a strange one," Danu said, with some amusement.
Luke laughed. "Since meeting up with me he's had to put up with quite a lot, so you can't really blame him."
The Polis Massans led them to a low repulsorcar that sped them along the tunnel towards the brightly lit towers of the settlement.
The colony's Administrator greeted them with a swift dip of his head, and served them tiny glasses containing a thick, green liquid. The peculiar, syrupy concoction looked cloying and sweet, but was unexpectedly tart. It always amazed Luke that practically everywhere he visited conformed to similar welcoming rituals, yet they always felt unique and had never become repetitive.
As they sipped their drinks, exchanging the customary pleasantries, Luke sensed the Administrator studying him covertly. It wasn't an unusual occurrence. Many people Luke encountered had never seen a Jedi, and if they'd heard of them, they usually had an exaggerated or uninformed opinion as to what one actually was. In the past six months Luke had encountered hatred, awe, indifference, curiosity, reverence and fear in equal measure and had learned to read the subtle body language of many non-human species. From Administrator Que-raik he detected curiosity, but to a greater degree than usual.
"Have you been Administrator here long?" he asked.
"For just over twenty years," Que-raik answered. "My predecessor was here for 150 years, so I'm still something of a newcomer."
"You must have seen some big changes though," Danu said.
Que-raik shrugged slightly. "We're a long way from the center of power. The Empire chose to ignore us, but it didn't make much difference to the way the colony was run. Our research continues regardless of who controls the galaxy - it's just more open now."
"The Alliance is interested in working with you. We have equipment and procedures that might be of use to you, and we're keen to learn from your technicians."
"You're referring to the advances in neural transmitters? Yes, our team here has long wished to confer with your surgical droids on that. As you most likely know, we've been conducting successful experiments in cell cloning for use in medical reconstruction. The combination of our two areas of expertise should lead to further advances."
Que-raik turned to Luke. "Our focus is on the replacement of synthskin with living cloned skin. However, we haven't mastered the technique of true neural integration, without which our cloned skin has a far smaller capacity for sensation than synthskin."
Luke opted for a neutral response, unsure whether the Administrator was making some indirect, personal reference. "It sounds like working together might be the way forward then."
"I can show you our laboratories - I'm sure they'll be of interest to you. It's likely to be a few more years before we've perfected the technique on other species, so there's no guarantee that it will be of immediate benefit to you."
Luke nodded, aware that Danu was looking at him curiously. So it had been a personal remark, and he wondered how the Administrator had known. He took a sip of his drink to calm the edginess the conversation had brought on. The last thing he'd expected on coming here was to be presented as some sort of medical exhibit, designed to demonstrate the success of neural integration.
Danu cleared his throat and steered the conversation in a new direction. "I understand Polis Massa once had links to the old Jedi Council. Both Jedi Skywalker and myself are very interested in the details of that association."
Que-raik looked again at Luke. "It's been many years since we had a Jedi here and your presence is very welcome. The Jedi Council's connection to our world was primarily a historical one. There is evidence that the indigenous inhabitants of Polis Massa were Force-sensitives. The Council was collaborating with our archaeological teams, who've been piecing together the history of the Eellayin. I'll be arranging a visit for you after you've both had a chance to rest."
Que-raik had provided rooms for them in one of the towers that ringed the central hub of the settlement. They'd agreed to meet up again at midday, which gave Luke and Senator Danu several hours in which to catch up with sleep and adjust to the abrupt shift in time their flight had brought about. The Senator hesitated outside the door to Luke's room.
"I'm sorry about before. I'm certain it wasn't Mon Mothma's intention to involve you in anything to do with their medical research. I didn't realize..."
"I know. Don't worry about it," Luke said. He held his hand up, letting the sleeve of his tunic slip back. The soft whirring of the circuits was barely audible over the constant hum of the air conditioners. "They can look at it if it'll help move things along. I guess the Polis Massans have much sharper hearing than we do."
"Probably," Danu agreed. "It'd be difficult to detect it any other way. But it's your choice. You've got enough to think about as it is. Get some sleep first in any case - after all, we've got their grand tour to look forward to."
Luke grinned at him. "It might not be as bad as all that."
"Maybe not," Danu smiled back.
***
Luke lay back on the bed, wondering why it was that whenever he got the chance to rest these days his mind always started to work overtime, making relaxation almost impossible. If he'd been back on Arudin he'd have gone running through the woods until ready to drop from sheer exhaustion. Here, there didn't seem to be anywhere to go, and wandering around the sanitized corridors of the colony didn't appeal. He closed his eyes, willing himself to wind down.
He'd come here hoping for some form of enlightenment, thinking that the break from the Rogues and from Arudin would somehow point him in the right direction. But although it was far too soon to have discovered anything about Polis Massa, he now wondered just why he'd ever thought to find any answers here. Perhaps he'd expected some sense of recognition that he was connected to the place, in view of its past relationship with the Jedi. But whereas on Dagobah he'd been hit by a sudden sense of familiarity and the knowledge that something was there, here he felt nothing. The asteroid struck him simply as a sterile lump of rock, inhabited in a totally artificial way by a race of people who must've become immune to the grayness and lifelessness of the place. But presumably there was more to it than these gleaming towers. Somewhere, the original inhabitants of the once-intact world had left their traces. Maybe in those ancient remains he might perceive a common bond.
Luke turned over onto his side and reached for the chrono he'd put beside the bed. It was the middle of the night on Arudin. And three nights ago he'd been with Han. They'd barely slept at all, too wrapped up in each other to want even that form of separation. Luke wondered wryly just how many unspoken Jedi rules Yoda would consider he'd broken in that one night. Presumably all the ones to do with greed, lust, passion, impatience and lack of restraint. Not to mention misuse of his Jedi training... And if Han was here now, he'd break them all again, given the chance.
He wondered if being unable to control his thoughts fell into the same category. It probably did - he'd been told to be mindful of them often enough, and right now, they seemed to be dominated by his memory of the way Han had touched him. Luke curled up with a short groan, because thinking like this certainly wasn't going to get him any sleep. Artoo trundled up to him, beeping softly.
"No, I'm fine," Luke said. "You power down for a while, and I'll wake you up in a couple of hours."
The whole thing seemed crazy, because if he broke it down into those component emotions, what he felt for Han could be made to sound completely wrong - from a Jedi point of view. But none of those so-called infractions summarized the whole thing adequately. They missed out everything that had to be classified as good. Like trust, support and friendship. They were all part of love too, and wasn't it love that Ben and Yoda had partly counted on? Or was it just his anger they'd wanted?
It was difficult to say, because it'd been love for Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru that'd generated his anger over their deaths. Then the growing bond with Ben, whose sudden death had sustained that anger. And Ben had known how that would work. But both Ben and Yoda seemed to reject the idea of love when it clashed with their cause, both in their reactions to Luke's need to go to Bespin, and their refusal to accept that good still lay within Darth Vader.
And of course, there were different types of love. The Jedi would've approved and appreciated a form of love free from physical desire. An unselfish type of dedication to the happiness of others, undemanding and stable. Ben had spent close on twenty years in the Jundland Wastes, solitary and steadfast, committing his life to watching over Luke from a distance. Had he been happy? There was no way of discovering that now, but if Ben had achieved the ability to free his mind and body from the ties of attachments, then maybe he'd been content. If such a situation presented itself to Luke, could he do as Ben had done? Probably - but he doubted he'd find happiness in it. It was all so difficult. He was so difficult. So damn difficult, as Han had said.
And of course, now he'd allowed his thoughts to dwell on Han, it was inevitable that he'd end up reliving those few moments in the cruiser hangar before he'd left for Polis Massa. Three days later, and he still wasn't sure how to react. He knew why Han had done it, and he also knew that Han would've spent many hours since then worrying that Luke wouldn't have understood his intentions. Over the course of the night they'd spent together, there'd been several occasions when Luke had sensed that Han wanted to say more than he had. But Han had held back, believing Luke wouldn't want any additional pressure. He'd been both right and wrong, and if that was contradictory then Luke felt it probably summed up everything about him these days.
The truth was, it wasn't a contradiction at all, because avoiding the issue had nothing to do with wanting and everything to do with keeping Yoda's teachings in mind. Controlling his emotions. The wanting part was the total opposite, and yes, he wanted that pressure from Han. Wanted to hear Han ask him to stay, to demand some commitment and exact promises from him.
But... there was still Leia, and guilt, and loyalty. And fear of what might happen if something went wrong. How could he forget that clench of anxiety and edge of panic when he'd considered the possibility of failing to rescue Han from Tatooine? Or if the hibernation process had failed, or Han had been unable to shake off the sickness after he'd been released from the carbonite? There were just too many things to consider, and too many repercussions from any course of action he might take.
Clear your mind of questions, Yoda had said. And Yoda had repeatedly implied that he should know the right course to take, simply by taking control of his feelings. You will know. When you are calm, at peace. Passive. Luke drew on the Force, concentrating on shutting off each line of thought, one by one. He drew deep breaths, feeling the Force moving through him, soothing and harmonious. It brought no answers, but it did send him to sleep...
...
A searing, terrifying heat that scorched the soles of his feet even through thick boots, and threatened to boil the blood in his veins.
All around him, a rain of fire and white hot droplets that burned his clothing and stung his skin.
And so much anger and pain.
But hardest of all to bear was the overwhelming aura of betrayal that oozed from the smoldering river of lava, and shadowed him across every heat-warped inch of the walkways.
The place was a living hell, but it had seen emotions and loss more powerful than anything nature could produce. And it held within it an echo of a cry, full of despair and grief...
...
Luke sat up, unsure if that cry had come from his own lips or not. Breathing heavily, he ran a hand through hair that had stuck to his scalp with sweat. He flung himself off the bed, and hit the climate-control panel to allow cooler air into his room. The dream had been intense, leaving him disoriented and uneasy. Beside him, Artoo whirred comfortingly, accustomed to Luke's disrupted sleep patterns which often startled the droid out of his night-time hibernation.
Dreams like that had recurred with persistent regularity throughout his life, but the more in tune with the Force he became, the more vivid were the nightmares. What made them worse was the knowledge that somewhere, in amongst the tangled threads of surreal images, were hard truths.
Things had been like that since he was a child. Aunt Beru had spent countless nights comforting him and sitting with him while he struggled to return to sleep, battling with images that bore little connection to his childhood preoccupations. Chided for having an overactive imagination, he wondered how often his Aunt and Uncle must have questioned their decision to protect him from the truth. Privately, they must have acknowledged the strangeness within him, and accepted that a young child, with no experience of anything beyond a simple farming existence, would never willingly have conjured up such visions.
That they'd known the full truth of what had happened to his father was obvious to him now. Their version of the past was expert and rehearsed, and went hand-in-hand with a vagueness that accompanied his every request for detail. Like his grandmother's death. Killed by the Sandpeople, but he knew no more than that. He'd put Uncle Owen's reluctance to talk about it down to grief, because Aunt Beru had told him that it'd left Owen's father broken and distraught. He'd stayed that way until he died.
Thinking back on the past was doubly hard now, because it seemed to Luke that his family had brought only heartache and suffering to the Lars. Remarrying late in life, Cliegg Lars must've marveled at his new-found happiness, only to have had it brutally snatched away. Then there was Uncle Owen, who must've witnessed the final decline of his father whilst Luke's father was crushing underfoot all the freedoms of the galaxy. Only now could Luke begin to understand the full difficulties his Aunt and Uncle had faced in bringing him up. Having to fear every day for his safety, and to be continually vigilant in protecting him from the wider, shocking truth.
Luke checked the time again and realized he only had another hour before he was due to meet up with Senator Danu again. He stumbled into the adjoining 'fresher and stood under the shower trying to wake himself up properly.
The cool water felt good, especially as part of his mind was still in the burning chaos of his dream. In it, he'd had a sense of Obi-Wan and his father. But who did the feeling of betrayal come from? With all that he'd been told, it should've come from Ben, but Luke was certain he'd felt it in equal measure from them both.
chapter 16