Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

18 ABY, Salis D'aar, Bakura

Malinza was singing to herself as she arranged her dolls in their baskets, tucking them in with their little blankets, dressed in their best.  She wanted the nursery to be tidy for Mommy, so she could remember it that way while she was gone.  Mommy had tried to explain to her that she had to go away for a while, not just away from home, but away from Bakura, away into the stars.  Malinza had never been to the stars before, and they looked very far away.  She wasn’t sure why Mommy had to go, but it seemed important.  Malinza wasn’t sure Mommy had ever been to the stars before either, but it must not be dangerous to go there, or Mommy wouldn’t be going.

“Have you been to the stars?” she asked her nurse. 

Nurse Romie smiled, and shook her head.  “No, I haven’t.  But don’t worry about your mother, sweetie.  People visit the stars all the time.  She’ll be back before you know it.”

“Maybe she’ll bring me back a piece of one.”

Nurse Romie laughed.  “No, the stars have to stay where they are.  Maybe she could bring you a piece of another world, though.  There are lots of them, some much like ours.”

“How many?”

“More than you can count, dear.”

Malinza tried to imagine countless worlds floating among the stars, each one full of different people doing different things, people who occasionally wandered through the dark sky in their starships.  It sounded a little scary, no matter what Nurse Romie said.  

“Malinza?”

She looked up from her dolls as her mother entered the room and reached for her hand with a gentle smile.  “Come with me,” she said, “and remember your manners.  There’s someone here I want you to meet.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Malinza took her mother’s hand and together they left the house and descended the stairs into the courtyard garden.  The gardens were always so calm and quiet, with the sounds of birds singing and fountains bubbling, that it was hard to be scared there.  That’s why they had buried Daddy there, they said, when he had gone away.  He had always loved the gardens.  Malinza hopped down the stairs one at a time, still singing that little song to herself as they went.  

“Good morning, Luke,” her mother was saying as they reached the bottom.  “It’s good of you to come.  I wanted the two of you to meet.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” the stranger said.

Mommy seemed pleased.  “I’m glad.  Malinza, I want you to meet a very special friend of mine.  He’s going with me on my trip.”

Malinza finally stopped singing and looked up.  She had met lots of Mommy’s friends, but this one was different somehow, different from anyone she had ever met before.  He had a nice face, friendly blue eyes, and he was definitely from the stars.

She just looked at him for a while, fascinated, but she had been told many times that it was rude to stare.  “Hello,” she said.  “Are you going along to take care of my mommy?”

Instead of standing over her, as important grown-ups always did, he slowly sank to his knees and sat on his heels so they could speak face to face.  “I’m not going along to take care of her,” he explained, very solemn and very kind, “but I will watch out for her.  And even if your mother has to go away for a while, she’d never do it if she didn’t make sure someone was here to take care of you.”

“That’s right, Malinza.”  Mommy knelt down beside her too, giving her an encouraging pat on the shoulder.  “Madame Boble will stay with you, and Lady Corwell will come by every single day to make sure everything is all right.  And all your family will be here, too.  They’ll all watch out for you.”

Suddenly the garden wasn’t helping her stay calm anymore.  “But I want you, Mommy,” Malinza insisted.  The idea of being left behind was becoming too real.

“I know you do, sweetheart,” her mother said, stroking her long black hair.  “It would break my heart if you didn’t.  But sometimes grown-ups have to do things they don’t want to do.  I don’t want to leave, but I have to.  Luke’s friends helped us an awful lot, a long time ago.  Now they need help, and we have to pay them back.”  

Malinza turned back to Luke with a very serious expression, needing him to understand just how much he was asking.  “Do you really need my mommy to help you?” she asked.  

Luke seemed sad, maybe just as worried as she was, and Malinza supposed whatever trouble had brought him there must be very serious for him to be asking for help at all.  She could tell he didn’t want to, and that he was sorry.  “Yes,” he finally said.  “We really do need her help.”  

All her life, she had heard stories of fantasy and adventure, of noble ladies and heroes, of children who had to be brave through the bad times until the good times came again.  Nothing had changed on Bakura, but between Mommy and her friend Luke, Malinza could tell that bad times were definitely happening somewhere.  This must be her turn to be brave.  

“All right,” she said, lifting her chin and trying to look courageous.  “But you watch out for her, like you promised.”  

Luke smiled, but even that seemed sad somehow, sad and strong, like the heroes in her stories.  “I will,” he said.  “I will.”

“And I want you to bring something back for me,” Malinza insisted, turning to her mother and naming her price.  “Nurse Romie said you could bring me a piece of another world.”

“I certainly will, if I can,” Mommy promised.  “If I land on any other worlds while I’m gone, I’ll pick up a pretty rock for you.”

The adults climbed back to their feet and spoke a bit longer between themselves about things Malinza didn’t understand, boring things like when the fleet would be ready and where they would meet.  Luke finally turned to go, sparing a small wave for her as he went.

Nurse Romie was waiting at the top of the stairs, just inside the door.  “So, that was the famous Commander Skywalker,” she said, wearing that silly look some girls did when they talked about boys.  

“He hasn’t been ‘Commander’ Skywalker for some time,” Mommy corrected her.  “I believe ‘Master’ is the appropriate form of address now.”

Skywalker.   It sounded like a hero’s name, Malinza decided.  Perfect for a hero from the stars.  

Chapter Text

Everything was different now.  Nothing in their house had changed, but it didn’t feel like home anymore.  People came and went, some she knew, others she had never seen before.  No one seemed to want to look at her, everyone spoke quietly as though life was suddenly full of secrets, and the air felt heavy.  The only thing Malinza was sure of was that something very bad had happened.

Madame Boble was still staying at their house.  She and Nurse Romie had both tried to explain to her what had happened, that something had gone wrong and that Mommy wouldn’t be coming back.  Mommy was gone.  

Malinza thought she knew what that meant.  One morning, a year ago when she had been only three, she had woken up to find that Daddy was gone.  He had been sick for a long time, and Mommy had told her that he had died.  Malinza had never seen anything die, but she thought she knew what dead meant.  When people died they disappeared forever, and if Mommy was dead, then it was true that she would never be coming back.

Everyone was trying to pretend like nothing had happened, that everything was just the same, but that was silly.  The worst thing in the world had happened, and pretending couldn’t change it.  Nurse Romie had to say goodbye after a few days, trying not to cry, but she wouldn’t say why.  Some of Malinza’s things had already been packed into crates.  Madame Boble was more uncomfortable by the day, not grumpy or angry, but nervous and worried, having long conversations with Lady Corwell when she came to check on them.  Malinza began to feel like they were always talking about her, that she had become a problem.  It made her feel very alone.

She was hiding behind the far end of the big couch in the living room.  No one ever bothered her there.  Maybe it was easier for the grown-ups to pretend she wasn’t there if she was hiding.  She huddled in the shadows with her blanket and her favorite doll, the one Mommy had given her on her last birthday.  When Mommy had left her there, she had been so sure that there were lots of people who would be looking out for her.  Why did nobody seem to want her now?

Madame Boble was nervously sharing after-dinner tea with Lady Corwell now, both of them speaking in those scary low voices although Malinza was pretty sure neither of them knew she was there.  They were talking about her again, about what they could possibly do about her.  She just gripped her doll tighter, hoping that whatever happened to her wouldn’t be as terrible as whatever had happened to Mommy.

The door chime rang, and Madame Boble nearly jumped out of her skin.  Malinza shrank farther into the shadows behind the couch, and Lady Corwell got up to check the security feed.  

She hissed angrily.  “What’s he doing here?” she demanded.  “What more can he possibly want?”

Madame Boble gasped, peering at the feed herself.  “Jedi,” she sneered.  “They go wherever they please, take whatever they please, whoever they please.”

“Shall I get rid of him?” Lady Corwell offered.

Madame Boble sighed unsteadily.  “No.  His sister is still the Republic’s Chief of State, remember.  We can’t afford an incident.”   

“A pity.”  

Lady Corwell went to answer the door.  “Master Skywalker,” she said icily, although the name pricked Malinza’s attention.  “You’re either very brave or very presumptuous to show your face here now.”

“At the risk of sounding presumptuous, I assure you it’s the former,” Master Skywalker replied.  He didn’t seem surprised by the unfriendly reception.  “I came to see Malinza.”

“Malinza is in no fit state to see anyone,” Madame Boble insisted, “and certainly not you.  Have you no shame at all?  It’s your fault that she’s in this predicament.”

He was inside now, despite the two angry women.  Malinza could just see his boots if she lay down and peered beneath the couch.  “What predicament?” he asked, ignoring their other comments.  “What are you talking about?”

“Gaeriel named me Malinza’s guardian in the event of her death!” Madame Boble seethed.  “But I can’t possibly take on a child!  I’m on a fixed income, and I don’t have the resources.  She’s so young; her inheritance won’t last five years!”

“Wait, are you refusing to take her?  Why did you accept legal responsibility if you don’t have the means to follow through?

“Because she wasn’t supposed to die!  If you had just done your job properly, we wouldn't be in this mess.”

“What about you?   Gaeriel obviously considered you a friend.”

“Impossible,” Lady Corwell insisted.  “I have five children already.”

“What about the rest of her family?  Gaeriel mentioned that she had family here before we left.”

“None of them are fit to take her, either.  Gaeri’s sister is in a mental hospital, and all their other relations are only a few years short of dotage themselves.  I was happy to help, and we love Malinza dearly, but none of us can cope with this.  I’ve already had to dismiss her nurse, and soon enough we’ll be forced to sell this house.  We have our own obligations, and this will ruin us!”

Luke made a sharp and impatient sound.  “You’re talking about her like she’s the problem,” he protested, lowering his voice.  “She’s right there.   Get a hold of yourself.” 

He paced across the living room carpets, then back toward the door, and then back the other way again.  His presence seemed to fill the room, making Malinza feel much less lonely, although she wasn’t sure how she felt about Master Skywalker now.  He obviously hadn’t been able to keep his promise.  He had let her mother die, and yet he was the only person who seemed to really care about her anymore.

“What happens if you refuse to accept her?  Officially?  What then?”

Madame Boble hesitated.  “I suppose then the competent authorities would place her with someone.”

“Someone?  Just anyone?”

“I’m sure all applicants are properly vetted.”  

Malinza didn’t think she sounded as sure as she said she was.

After a few intense minutes, Luke stopped pacing.  “All right,” he said.  “If I take her, are you willing to relinquish custody?”

The women were stunned.  “Are you serious?” Lady Corwell asked.  “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m trying to do what’s best for Malinza,” Luke insisted.  “I came back because I owe her an apology, but this is unacceptable.  If no one here has the will or the wherewithal to handle it, then I will.  One way or another, I’m not leaving until I’m satisfied that she’s provided for.  So, are you willing to relinquish custody?”

“Well . . . well, yes,” Madame Boble stammered.  “What do you propose to do?”

“Whatever I have to.”  Luke was moving across the room again.  “First I’ll need to make a call.”  Malinza heard the series of sharp clicks as he inserted his own comlink into the holoport and keyed the appropriate codes.  “Call her nurse back right now and tell her she’s still employed.  Then pull out whatever documents we’re going to need.”  

The two ladies lingered for a moment, but then moved to cooperate.  Malinza listened as the holocall was routed to Coruscant, through several different offices, until finally an automated voice advised him that he was speaking to the Chief of State of the New Republic.  “Leia?  Glad I could catch you.”

“Yes, Luke, what is it?  Are you still on Bakura?”

“Yes, something’s come up.  I need you to fire up that discretionary credit account again, at least for a few weeks.”

Malinza didn’t know whether to feel scared or excited, hopeful or miserable.  Things were changing again, and there was nothing she could do about it.  Nobody ever asked her what she wanted.  Right now she didn’t even know what she wanted.  She wanted everything to be the way it was before.  

She had stopped paying attention to what was going on, might even have fallen asleep against the wall in her tears, but when she opened her eyes Master Skywalker was sitting down on the floor at the opposite end of the couch.  That startled her, reminding her that she wasn’t invisible, but something about him encouraged her to be calm.  He didn’t speak to her right away, didn’t ask her to come out, didn’t even look at her.  He just sat with her for a while.  

Much like the first time they had met, Malinza was able to feel things about him without him having to say anything.  She could feel how very sorry he was, how much he wished things could have been different, and how much he cared about what happened to her now.  It was like seeing colors no one else could see.

Finally, he pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to her.  Encouraged by the calm and quiet around him, Malinza reached out to take it.  It was a smooth pink stone, round and flat like a coin, glimmering in the dim light.  “What is it?” she asked.

“A piece of another world,” Luke explained.  “I remembered you had asked for one, so I picked it up on Selonia in case your mother didn’t have the same chance.  I think she would have wanted you to have it.”

Malinza closed it in her fist and nodded.  

Luke sighed.  “I’m sorry about all this,” he said.  “I’m sorry things have been so confusing for you.  But I promise we’re going to sort them out together, okay?”

She nodded again.  She didn’t know what else to do.  He really did have very kind eyes.

Luke glanced toward the front door.  “I think your nurse is back,” he whispered with something that was almost a smile, “and in that case, I think it’s probably time you were getting ready for bed, don’t you think?”

Another nod.  Now that he mentioned it, she was suddenly very tired.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.  See you in the morning, sweetheart.”

As he got up, Lady Corwell was opening the door and inviting Nurse Romie inside.  Malinza crawled out of her hiding place to meet her.  It was good to see her again.

With her bedtime routine returned to normal, Malinza almost felt like she was getting her wish.  She knew nothing would ever really be the same, but it helped to have some of the little things back. Nurse Romie seemed glad to be back, too, and took special care getting her cleaned, dressed, and tucked into bed.

“Sweet dreams, little one,” she said, kissing her forehead.  “I need to go downstairs and talk to Master Skywalker for a while, to see what he plans to do for us, and if he needs any help.”

“Are we going to be able to stay here?” Malinza asked.  

Nurse Romie shook her head.  “I don’t know,” she admitted.  “Probably not, but please don’t worry.  Whatever happens now, I’m sure Master Skywalker will do the best he can for you.”

“Nurse Romie,” Malinza asked again, stopping her as she was leaving.  “What’s a Jedi?”  She’d heard Madame Boble use that word, and it hadn’t sounded nice.

Her nurse hesitated.  “Master Skywalker is a Jedi,” she said.  “A Jedi is someone with special powers and skills the rest of us don’t have, someone who lives a life of sacrifice and self-discipline for the good of others.  On Bakura, there are those who say they upset the Cosmic Balance, that they bring bad things.”

Malinza was quiet.  It did seem like Master Skywalker had brought bad things into her life, but then he also seemed determined to set things right.  Mommy had once believed in the Cosmic Balance, but when they had talked about it, she hadn’t seemed completely convinced it was true.  She had called Luke a very special friend, and she wouldn’t have been friends with a bad or dangerous person.  

Nurse Romie wished her a good night, and closed the door behind her as she went back downstairs.  

Alone in the dark, hugging her doll close, Malinza thought for a while about the Cosmic Balance, about Jedi, about Luke and Mommy.  Finally, as she drifted to sleep, she decided she didn’t care what anyone else had to say right now.  All she knew was that the house felt different again with Luke in it—a good different, not a bad different.

Somehow it felt like home again.

The sun was streaming in through the gap in her bedroom curtains when Malinza finally woke up.  Nurse Romie hadn’t come to wake her, and it was later than usual.  She must have been very tired.

She slid out of bed and went downstairs, surprised that the whole house smelled like happier times.  Master Skywalker was still there, sorting through several piles of flimsiprint at one end of the table while Nurse Romie was busily arranging breakfast at the other end.  There was no sign of Madame Boble or Lady Corwell.  

“Good morning!” Nurse Romie called to her.  Master Skywalker smiled, but continued gathering his documents.  The table was set with Mommy’s favorite breakfast, warmed green pastries shaped like leaves and filled with nut paste.  There was even a ready pitcher of gorra nut milk, a rare treat.  Malinza couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement, like she might feel on the morning of her birthday.  

“Come and eat,” Romie insisted.  “You might have a long and busy day ahead of you.”

“What are we doing?” Malinza asked as she climbed into her chair, sparing a sidelong glance at Master Skywalker.  

Luke clipped a pile of printouts together and slipped it into a large folder.  “We have to go convince some important people to let me adopt you.  It won’t be forever,” he promised, and Malinza realized she must have looked as surprised as she felt.  “Just until I can find someone who will take good care of you.”  He smiled.  “I hope it won’t take too long.  I’ve seen a lot of government offices in my day, and they’re all kind of boring.  I’ll make it up to you afterward.  Do you have a favorite place you like to visit in the city?”

Malinza thought about that around a mouthful of pastry.  “I like to go see the big fish, and walk on the water stones.”

Master Skywalker looked to Nurse Romie.  “The Deredith Arden Memorial Gardens,” she explained.  “Just outside the government complex, actually.  You could probably walk from there.”

“Oh, perfect.”  Luke turned back to Malinza.  “Big fish, huh?  When I was a kid, I lived in the desert.  No fish anywhere.  Sounds like fun.”

Malinza smiled, and stuffed more pastry into her mouth.  She thought she should probably still be sad and nervous, but she couldn’t help feeling better.  She knew everything was still different, that everything was changed forever, and would keep changing, but her house felt more familiar that morning than it had in a long time.  Nurse Romie was tidying the kitchen the way Mommy always used to, and Master Skywalker was in Daddy’s chair with all his flimsis.  Daddy had always liked to read flimsiprint rather than a datapad screen.  Everything was quiet and calm in that heavy and comfortable way it really hadn’t been since Daddy died, and Malinza felt something deep inside her finally unwind and relax.  

It was still scary, but she realized she wasn’t worried anymore.  Someone finally knew what to do.  Someone was going to make sure everything turned out all right.  He was still mostly a stranger to her, but as Malinza finished her breakfast she decided she really wouldn’t mind being adopted by Master Skywalker.  Every time she looked at him, she remembered her mother’s voice.  A very special friend of mine, she had said.  A very special friend.   She had thanked Luke for coming, saying how much she had wanted the two of them to meet, and Luke, for his part, had said he wouldn’t have missed it for anything.  It was almost as if Mommy had brought the two of them together for a reason.  Maybe the Cosmic Balance had something to do with that.  Master Skywalker must be a very special friend if the universe thought he would be fair compensation for the loss of both her parents.  

Maybe he can be my special friend, too, Malinza thought, sipping her nut milk.  Judging by the formidable thickness of his flimsi folder, he seemed ready to fight for her, and without much time to prepare.  She supposed all heroes were like that, ready to fight at a moment’s notice.  She finished her breakfast and went upstairs with Nurse Romie to get dressed.

She would enjoy showing him the fish.

Venturing into the heart of Salis D’aar with Master Skywalker was exciting at first, especially after being stuck at home for so long, but after waiting for three and a half hours in the offices of the Department for Children’s Welfare, Malinza was ready to agree with his dim view of government offices everywhere.  

She and Luke were seated beside one another in plastiform chairs with at least twenty other people, waiting for someone to call their number.  Malinza had accepted the responsibility of safeguarding the ticket with their number on it.  She had just learned to read, and she listened attentively every time the automated system announced who would be next.  

It was the third number they had held since arriving that morning, and the game was getting old.  Madame Boble had met them there and stayed just long enough to play her part, signing in person whatever she had to sign.  That part hadn’t been hard, especially considering how ready Master Skywalker was with whatever documents the agent wanted to see, but Malinza had been able to witness firsthand some of that local mistrust of Jedi her nurse had described.  

The agent hadn’t been very friendly, and had only seemed to become more unfriendly, almost upset that Master Skywalker was able to answer all his questions.  Malinza didn’t think the meeting was supposed to be a contest, but if it was, she was glad to be on Luke’s team.  Finally, the grumpy agent finished whatever he was doing, gave them another printout, and told them to take another number.

Those chairs weren’t very comfortable.  Malinza was swinging her feet, but not quite brave enough to hum to herself in such a crowded place.  “This is taking a long time,” she said, finally daring to complain a bit.

Master Skywalker looked down at her.  “I know,” he said, looking sympathetic.  He glanced at his wrist chrono.  “And you must be hungry by now.”  Malinza thought she saw a flicker of impatience on his face, but it quickly disappeared.  She didn’t know what Master Skywalker did for work, but he probably had better things to do than stare at these walls.  “Come on,” he decided, standing up.  “Let’s grab a quick break before they call us.”

He led her down a side passage, stood guard while she used the ‘fresher, and then stopped at the snack bank beside the lobby and told her to pick whatever she wanted.  Feeling a naughty thrill, Malinza pointed out a packet of crisps and a box of candied nuts.  Not a vegetable in sight.  

Then it was back to those uncomfortable chairs.  The snacks made the wait less boring, and Malinza tried to eat slowly, but she was very hungry.  Master Skywalker had crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, but she knew he wasn’t sleeping.  He was trying to not be impatient.  

She was starting to notice that it wasn’t just the one agent who didn’t seem friendly.  No one in the office seemed to think much of Master Skywalker, and they were all watching him now with those sneaky sideways looks, the kind that meant they didn’t care if they were caught.  Malinza scowled at one of them, and the man quickly turned back to his workstation.  

Malinza had at least as much reason to be upset as any of them, but whatever had happened at Corellia, she didn’t think it was fair to blame it all on Master Skywalker.  He had been nothing but nice to her.  He had come back from wherever he belonged because he thought she was important, because he cared about her.  He certainly seemed to care more than anyone else in that city, and Mommy had trusted him.  Nobody here knew him at all, so they could keep their nasty looks.  

The injustice gave her new courage, enough to thrust her little hand into his.  Luke was obviously surprised, but he seemed pleased, and he shifted his grip to more comfortably return the gesture.  He didn’t even seem to mind that her fingers were sticky with nut sugar.  

“D1198.”

Malinza had been so lost in her own thoughts that she had forgotten to listen for their number.  She jumped out of her chair with new excitement, waving their flimsi ticket.  Luke guided her to the right desk, and they sat down again in much better chairs.

“A custodial case?” the agent asked, his voice flat and uninterested.  “Name on file, please.”

“Malinza Thanas,” Luke told him, ready with the printed summary the previous agent had prepared.  

The man’s eyes widened as he recognized the name and suddenly realized who he was dealing with.  Then they narrowed again with that same unthinking judgment of all his colleagues.  He took the summary, but clearly had his own opinions about it.  “Presumptive guardian refused custody,” he observed, typing.

“That’s right,” Luke said.  He caught Malinza’s eye and offered a brief but encouraging smile.  

“And you wish to assume full custody, Mister Skywalker?”

Master, Malinza thought with a frown.  Mommy said it was Master.

“I do.”

“Identichip, please.”

Luke handed it over, and the man scanned it into his computer.

“We’ll need at least eight verified character references, not to include family members.  You may submit them within three standard weeks, or—”

“I have twenty,” Luke assured him, producing all of them in hardcopy.  

The agent was visibly annoyed, but he accepted the stack and fed them into his scanner.  

“This is still a highly irregular arrangement,” he observed, still typing.  “I understand you are unmarried, Mister Skywalker.”

“Will that be a problem?” Luke asked, sounding a little annoyed himself.

“It will be a consideration,” the man clarified.  “In the normal course of things, we prefer to place vulnerable children with stable families on Bakura itself, rather than with itinerant bachelors who intend to take them far beyond the scope of our authority.”

He didn’t say the word Jedi the way Madame Boble had, but somehow Malinza imagined she could see it in that sour look on his face.  

“I have no intention of removing Malinza from Bakura,” Luke explained, very patiently.  “This is meant to be a temporary arrangement.”

The agent shrugged with his eyebrows, and returned to his typing.  “Well, thank the fates for that,” he said.  “With that in mind, it may be easier to arrange a simple guardianship until our offices can place her in a more permanent situation.”

“No,” Luke insisted, “I need full parental custody.”

The other stopped typing again and sighed at his screen.  “May I ask why?”

“Because I was serious when I offered to take responsibility for her,” Luke said.  “At this moment, Malinza’s wellbeing is my highest priority, and I need to be free to do what’s best for her without my judgment being hamstrung by considerations from this or any other office.”

The agent’s eyes narrowed again.  “That may not be possible.”

Luke matched him.  “May not?  You don’t know?”

“You may have to appeal directly to the governor for an exemption.  I’m not authorized to approve a full untethered adoption this irregular.  Your best bet would probably be to call the executive offices and schedule another appointment.”

Malinza felt her heart sink.  All that waiting, and they didn’t seem to have gotten much done.

Luke sat there like a stone, his expression flat.  “This kid has been waiting very considerately for over four hours,” he said, becoming so intensely quiet and calm that it was scary.  “We need firm directions, not guesswork.”

The agent, already dialing his comm, tried to wave them away, prepared to call the next number in line.

Malinza was ready to climb down when Luke stood up, reached across the workstation, and terminated the comm connection with the click of a button.  “The next person I want to see you call,” he said with venomous serenity, “is the person who can sort this out for us.  Okay?”

The gardens were a relief after the dull office buildings.  Malinza had taken Master Skywalker directly to her favorite spot, and was skipping from stone to stone across the surface of the lily pond.  Those stones were actually columns of duracrete standing in the clear water, a magical place from which to watch the big orange, white, and purple fish swimming curiously around her feet.   

It was like another world hidden in the middle of the city, a long trail of water stones in sun and shade, surrounded by trailing willow trees.  If it wasn’t for the muffled speeder noise, you could forget you were in a city.  

“Those are pretty big fish,” Master Skywalker said, coming up behind her.  

Malinza turned to face him.  “Can we feed ‘em?” she asked.

He looked confused.  “I don’t know.  Can we?”

“You buy food over there,” she explained, pointing to the far side of the pond.

“Oh.  Then of course we can.”

Malinza led the way to the far end of the path, jumping from stone to stone faster than Mommy would have liked, but somehow she was sure Master Skywalker wouldn’t let her fall in.  Nurse Romie had said Jedi had special powers.  Malinza wasn’t sure what that meant, but that could be why he seemed so different from other people.  Something about him made her feel safe, and that was important at a time when nothing had seemed safe anymore.  

They stopped on the bank beside the cobblestone footpath that wound its way through the gardens, and Master Skywalker swiped his credcard through the automated dispenser, getting them two cups of fish pellets.  

“The cups are food, too,” Malinza explained, holding hers very carefully to avoid any spills, “so when they’re empty, you just throw them in.”

“Well, that’s clever."  

There was a big rock beside the pond where Malinza liked to sit, close enough to the water to feed the fish, but high enough to not be splashed or nipped in the frenzy.  Master Skywalker crossed his legs and settled beside her, apparently enjoying the gardens as much as she was.  The fish crowded in the way they always did, bright flashes of colored scales diving over one another, fighting for tidbits. 

“I know it’s been a long day already,” Master Skywalker apologized, “and you’ve been very patient, but there are just a few things left to do.  I think it’s best we get this done as quickly as possible.  When we’re finished here, I’ll find you something decent for lunch, and then we have our appointment with the governor.  After that, I’ll be able to start looking for someone nice who can be more than just a guardian, someone who can be your new family.”

Malinza wasn’t sure how she felt about that.  She threw another handful of pellets at the fish.  “Can’t I stay with you?” she asked.

Master Skywalker turned to look at her, apparently surprised by the question, and he had to think about his answer for a minute.  “I . . . I wish you could, Malinza,” he said, suddenly very sincere and sad, “but I can’t look after you the way you’d need me to.  My work is very dangerous, and I don’t even have a proper home of my own.  I promise I’ll find someone who can take care of you, send you to school, and help you grow up the way your mother would have wanted.”

Malinza frowned, that creeping feeling twisting inside her again.  She had just started to feel safe again, and she didn’t want to lose that.  “Then you’ll leave?” she asked, afraid she already knew the answer.  Just like everybody else.  “What if they aren’t nice?”

“They’ll be nice,” Master Skywalker insisted, “I promise.  I have ways of telling the nice ones from the mean ones.  And I’ll come visit you as often as I can to be sure you’re all right.  Okay?”

She considered that.  “Okay, I guess,” she mumbled into her hair.  “What if you’re too busy?”

“I’ll make time for you, Malinza.  Your mother was very important to me, and so are you.”  

She sighed, not entirely reassured.  “Okay.  If you promise you won’t forget.”

“I won’t forget, ever.  I’ll be back to check on you, and you can call me whenever you like.  Your new family will have to be okay with that.”

Malinza turned to look at him, but somehow couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, and instead found herself staring at his knee.  She wasn’t sure how to say what she was feeling, that she didn’t want to lose him when he finally went back to wherever he lived, somewhere out there in the stars.  He didn’t feel like a stranger anymore.  Mommy had brought him to her, and Malinza didn’t want him to go away.  Finally she just spit it out.  “Could you be in my new family?”

Again, he seemed surprised.  “I can if you want me to be,” he said.  “Is that what you really want?”

Malinza nodded, finally daring to look up.  “You have any other kids?”

Master Skywalker shook his head.  “No, I don’t.  My sister has three, a girl and two boys.”  

“Madame Boble said your sister was Chief of State,” Malinza said, pleased to have overheard and remembered something important like that.  “Mommy used to be important.  People still called her Madame Prime Minister even when she wasn’t.”  It had all been very stiff and awkward, and she wondered if it was the same in the capital.  “Do they call you Master Skywalker?”

“Nothing so formal,” he assured her with a gentle laugh.  “No, I’m just Uncle Luke to them.”

She liked that.  It was easier, warmer, and much less of a mouthful.  “Can I call you that, too?”

He smiled, and seemed very sad and very happy all at once.  It made her wonder if he wasn’t just as lonely as she was.  “Absolutely,” he said.  “I’d like that very much.” 

The governor, unlike most everyone else they had met that day, seemed very helpful, and he thanked Master Skywalker for taking such an active interest in the situation.  There wasn’t much else to do but sit quietly while His Excellency made calls and had his staff draft the appropriate documents.  Finally, they were presented with the final authorization.  Uncle Luke signed it, the governor’s aide stamped it, and that was that.

The governor smiled and took Uncle Luke’s hand.  “Congratulations, Master Skywalker,” he said.  “I’m sorry it’s come to this, but I deeply appreciate what you’re doing.  I’m sure Madame Thanas would approve.”

“Thank you, sir,” Uncle Luke replied, sounding like a soldier.  “I sincerely hope so.”

“Well, young lady,” the governor said, turning to Malinza.  “Do you understand what’s happened today?  By law, Master Skywalker is now your father, so mind what he says and don’t worry.  I’m sure he’ll take very good care of you.”

Malinza just nodded, too shy to answer.

Nurse Romie had a light and early supper ready when they got back home, which was just as well, because Malinza only got halfway through it before her emotions got the better of her.  She knew the governor had meant well, but it had been a very long day, and what he had said just reminded her of how different things were, that Mommy and Daddy were gone forever, and nothing could bring them back.  Suddenly it all felt too big and too terrible to cope with, and before long she was sobbing incoherently in her chair.

“Too much sugar,” she heard Nurse Romie say over the noise.  “. . . needs a nap.”

Then Nurse Romie was wrestling her out of her seat and carrying her upstairs.  Malinza didn’t want to go upstairs, she didn’t want to go to bed, she didn’t want a nap, and she cried and flailed and screamed for Mommy and Daddy and the way things used to be.  Then she remembered something she could have.  “Uncle Luke!” she shrieked through her tears.  “I want Uncle Luke!”   

She usually didn’t get anything she asked for during a tantrum, so she was a little surprised when she felt herself being passed into a stronger pair of arms.  Luke carried her the rest of the way to her room, sat on the floor beside her bed, and held her while she cried.  She couldn’t help it, and she couldn’t stop, but he wasn’t trying to make her stop.  He was just there, strong and quiet and calm, and he just let her cry.  He seemed to know she needed to.

“It’ll be okay,” he said when she had finally worn herself out.  “I know it’s a lot right now, but I promised that we’d sort it out together.  I had to grow up without my mother and father, too.  It isn’t easy, but you’re not alone, and you’ll be all right.  You’ll never be alone.”  

Malinza didn’t answer, swollen and stuffy, her gasping and sniffling lulled by the gentle rhythm of his breathing.  It still seemed overwhelming, but she was glad she wasn’t alone.  Life was too big for her to manage.  She was just a kid.  Uncle Luke must have been a kid once, but he was a grown man now who had been places and seen things.  He’d fought in wars and lived on other worlds.  He would take care of her.  He would take care of everything.

She was barely awake when she felt her head on her pillow.  “No,” she whimpered, clumsily reaching out with her eyes closed, but unable to find him.  

“I’m still here,” he promised, catching her hand and laying it down on the bed.  “Get some rest.”

The last thing she remembered was falling asleep, reassured by the gentle pressure of his hand on her back.

The search for Malinza’s new family began the very next day.  Word of her situation spread quickly, and not only through official channels.  The local news was briefly obsessed with the story of the orphaned prime minister’s child who had been adopted by her mother’s erstwhile Jedi lover.  Malinza wasn’t sure what all that meant.  Uncle Luke had switched off the holoplayer, told her it was silly and not to worry about it.  

Lots of people seemed to be interested in adopting her, and for a few days Nurse Romie did almost nothing but take calls and compile a list of contacts.  Uncle Luke very methodically called them back, and he interviewed one party at a time at the house each day.  He always had a lot of questions for them, and each meeting went on for hours.  At about midday, Malinza would come downstairs to meet them, and then Uncle Luke would leave with them to see where and how they lived.  A few hours later, he would come back.  

That was the part of the day Malinza always looked forward to.  She’d come tumbling down the stairs and jump into his arms, he’d crush her to his chest, ask her what she’d been up to while he was gone and what she thought of her latest potential family.  Then they’d sit at the table with snacks and talk about what they liked and didn’t like about the people they’d met that day.  Uncle Luke tapped detailed notes into his datapad the whole time, so he wouldn’t lose track of who was who.  They’d spend the evening together, have dinner, he’d tuck her into bed, and the whole routine would begin again in the morning.  

There was one day that was very different, the day of Mommy’s funeral.  Everything else stopped for that day.  Malinza didn’t remember much about Daddy’s funeral, except for crowds of people in black, and this looked like it would be the same.  Nurse Romie put her in a black dress and shiny black shoes, with a black bow in her black hair.  When she went downstairs, she saw Uncle Luke was also robed in black, picking at his breakfast.  

He had explained to her yesterday that because Mommy had died in a starship explosion, there wasn’t anything left for them to bury.  There was going to be a burial anyway, beneath the headstone in the garden where Daddy was buried, but the urn would be filled with tokens and mementoes from everyone who’d loved her.  Malinza had drawn a picture of her and Mommy walking on the water stones and feeding the fish.

She slid it across the table.  “This is what I drew,” she said.

“I saw it,” Uncle Luke said with a sad smile.  “It’s very nice.”

Recognizing that something was missing, and realizing that there was more to Uncle Luke’s relationship with Mommy than she understood, Malinza turned the drawing over and pushed the blank side toward him.  “Do you want to draw something?” she asked.

Uncle Luke seemed to lose his voice for a minute.  “I think I would,” he finally said, accepting the green marker she handed him.  “Thanks.”  

Malinza tucked into her breakfast, and he started writing.  An hour later, he had filled the whole page.  She wondered what it said, but it seemed rude to ask.  

The ceremony was crowded, very long and very somber, although everyone who spoke had something nice to say.  Malinza clutched Uncle Luke’s hand the whole time, because it helped her feel better.  Mommy would have wanted her to be well behaved, ladylike, and brave.  She put her folded drawing into the urn with a pink flower when her turn came, pleased that it also had Uncle Luke’s note on it.  Whatever he had written, she was sure it was important, and that Mommy would have appreciated it.  That seemed like Balance to her.

She spent most of the reception hiding in her room, crying quietly to herself.  She didn’t feel as hopeless or miserable as she had before, but she still missed Mommy.  Maybe she always would.  Uncle Luke came to check on her once.  He didn’t try to cheer her up or insist that she go downstairs and be polite to their guests, but he did bring her a slice of sweetbread.  That evening he let her eat supper in her nightgown while they sat on the couch and watched her favorite holoflick.  She felt a little guilty for wanting to be distracted, but Uncle Luke said that was normal.  Mommy wouldn’t have wanted her to be sad forever.

The next morning, the parade of adoption candidates began again.  There had been large families, small families, some hopeful mothers and fathers who didn’t have any children yet, and even some older single ladies who were willing and able to fit a little girl into their lives.  This was one of those, and she made an impression immediately.  Malinza couldn’t tell right away what it was about her that she liked, but she was definitely interesting.  

She left the door of her bedroom open and listened as the woman talked with Uncle Luke downstairs.  She had a nice voice, and Malinza overheard that her name was Laera.  It didn’t sound like she was trying too hard to be polite, which was probably a good sign.  Malinza didn’t want to end up with anybody who secretly disapproved of Uncle Luke.  As she continued to listen, sneaking out to the top of the stairs, Malinza suddenly recognized why she liked her.  There was something about Laera that was strikingly similar to Uncle Luke, an aura that was unmistakably calm, confident, and kind.  Like Mommy.  

She came down when she was called for formal introductions.  Laera smiled at her, but didn’t immediately try to touch her or get too close like some people did.  She had pretty brown hair done up in a crown of braids, and cool gray eyes.  One of Mommy’s eyes had been gray like that.  

“Good afternoon, Malinza,” Laera said.  “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

Malinza didn’t say anything yet, but she dipped into a formal curtsy as she had been taught.  Uncle Luke was smiling when she glanced his way, and she assumed he was also pleased with Laera.  Another good sign.  

“I hope to soon know you better,” Laera continued, “but I suppose that depends on whether I can impress Master Skywalker.”  She nodded at Luke.  “He has very high standards.”  

“Just doing my due diligence,” Uncle Luke insisted.  He turned back to Malinza.  “We’re going to see Miss Laera’s house now, so behave for Nurse Romie, and I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Can I come too?” Malinza blurted out.  She was suddenly very interested in what her possible life with Miss Laera would look like.  

The surprise on Uncle Luke’s face probably gave away the fact that this wasn’t part of the regular routine.  He shrugged.  “I suppose there’s no reason why not.”  He looked to Laera.  “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Laera said.  In fact, she seemed very pleased.  “This must be my one big chance to make the perfect first impression.  Follow me, if you will.”

When they arrived, Malinza liked what she saw.  It was a big house, but not too big, with a grand staircase out front, but not too grand, part of a row of pretty houses in a nice part of Salis D’aar.  Inside it was clean and calm and orderly, bright and welcoming.  It was different, but Malinza could imagine it as her new home.  

“This would be your room, dear,” Laera said, showing Malinza into an upstairs bedroom.  It was a boring sort of guest room, but it had a pretty window seat, and a tall ceiling like a princess tower.  “We’d of course bring in all your own things, and make it as much like home as possible.”

Malinza climbed onto the window seat and looked out over the back garden.  She was glad there was a garden.  Mommy had always liked to have fresh flowers around.

“She’s never been this interested before,” Uncle Luke was quietly telling Laera.  “Full marks for that first impression.”

When they got back home that afternoon, they sat down at the table for snacks the way they always did, and Uncle Luke whipped out his datapad.  “So,” he said, “what do you think of Laera?”

“I like her,” Malinza said, sorting her mixed crackers into organized groups.  “She’s my favorite.”

Uncle Luke smiled.  “Any particular reason?” he asked.  “Not just the window seat, I hope.”

“She reminds me of Mommy,” Malinza confessed, coming right to the point.  “And you.  She’s nice.”

“You’re sure you wouldn’t rather be part of a family with both a mother and a father?  Maybe some brothers and sisters?”

Malinza frowned.  “I don’t know.  I didn’t like the others so much.  Other kids make too much noise.”

“Well, then . . .”  Uncle Luke closed his datapad, still smiling.  “Should we go ahead and meet someone new tomorrow, or should we call Miss Laera again and ask her if she wants to go feed the fish?”

Malinza felt a big, silly grin spread across her face.  “Fish!”

They spent the next week meeting with Laera, and every time they did Malinza liked her even better.  Laera knew how to laugh but wasn’t silly, had very good manners but wasn’t stiff, clearly believed in firm discipline but wasn’t mean.  She liked the gardens, and the animal exhibits, and the museum.  She liked music, and she promised that Malinza would have lessons if she wanted them.  Most importantly, she seemed to like Uncle Luke, and probably wouldn’t mind him coming to visit all the time.  

By the end of that week, they were all in agreement, and they braved the government offices together, legally relieving Luke of all his parental responsibilities and granting them to Miss Laera Tyrel.  In the space of one long afternoon, they had Malinza’s new bedroom refurnished and decorated.  

Then it was finally time for Uncle Luke to go back home.  He had already stayed a few months longer than he had expected to, and he said he really needed to get back to some work he’d been neglecting.  He had students to check on and a praxeum to run, and no doubt his sister, Chief Organa Solo, would have something for him to do as well.  Malinza was sorry to see him go, but she knew he’d be back.  

She and Laera went with him to the spaceport, somewhere Malinza had never been before.  There were starships of all kinds coming and going, and just the sound of it all was enough to make her stomach flutter with anticipation.  Uncle Luke’s ship was nothing fancy, just an X-wing fighter, and she had a hard time imagining traveling across the stars in something so small.  It was being watched by a feisty droid who met them with a cascading flurry of beeps, whistles, and snorts.  Malinza had never seen a droid before, either.  

“All right, all right, Artoo,” Uncle Luke soothed him.  “We’re going.  All unexpected business complete.  Is the ship ready?”

Artoo spat an answer that clearly implied Uncle Luke was the only thing that wasn’t ready.

Luke opened the fighter's cargo hatch and pulled out his orange flight suit and reinforced boots.  He was changed and strapped into his other hardware within two minutes.  Without waiting for the loading winches, he extended his hand toward Artoo and the droid floated into the air and settled into the back of the ship.  Malinza’s mouth fell open.  She had never asked about those special powers Jedi were supposed to have, but that had to be one of them.  

Artoo immediately began to power up the X-wing, and the thin whine of warming thrusters filled the bay.  Luke turned and opened his arms one last time, and Malinza ran up and let him sweep her onto his hip.  “I’m sorry I have to go,” he said, “but I have a lot of work waiting for me.  Behave for Laera, and I’ll call you as soon as I get back to Coruscant, okay?”

“Okay,” Malinza agreed grudgingly, not entirely satisfied with the arrangement, but convinced there was nothing any of them could do about it.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.  Part of her wanted to climb into that ship and go with him.

“I wouldn’t go without knowing I was leaving you in good hands,” he said again, holding her close.  “After all, I promised your mother.”

“Is that what you wrote to her?” Malinza asked.

Luke smiled that sad smile she already knew so well.  “That was part of it,” he confessed.  “This isn’t how I wanted things to turn out for you, but I guess we’re stuck with each other now.”

Artoo blat something impatient again.

“Hey!” Luke snapped, turning very stern.  “Stow it.  I said I’m coming.”

Knowing it was time to go just made her want him to stay, and Uncle Luke didn’t seem to be ready either.  He held her a while longer, and once again Malinza was suddenly aware of things about him without knowing how or why.  Somehow she understood that Uncle Luke had been sad for a very long time, and that with her he had almost been happy again.  Now they both had to go back to the mess each of them had come from, to do what they had to do.  Somehow they both had to learn how to be happy again.

“I’ll come back as soon as I can,” he promised, giving her one last squeeze before setting her down on the ferrocrete.  “Go with Laera and get clear.  I don’t want to blast you with drive exhaust.”

Malinza knew that if she tried to say anything she was going to cry, and that wouldn’t be very nice, so she ran back to Laera as he had asked her to.  Luke and Laera exchanged a parting wave, and then he slipped on his helmet and vaulted into the cockpit without the benefit of a ladder.  The canopy closed as the drive noise grew louder, dust swirling in the air as Uncle Luke cleared his departure with the local traffic authority.  

“Come, child,” Laera said, gently pulling Malinza away by the hand.  

Coruscant seemed so far away, deep in the core of their galaxy, someplace she couldn’t even imagine.  She would have to ask Laera to show her holos of it when they got home.

A new home and a new family.  Everything was different, but not bad.  Bad things had happened, but they had sorted it out together, like he had promised.

Laera waited with her outside the docking bay long enough to see Luke’s X-wing rise into the air on its repulsors.  He flashed his running lights at them before he turned and climbed toward the upper atmosphere.  It wasn’t long before Malinza lost sight of him.  

She suddenly felt very heavy, stuck there on the ground.  It was simply true that she belonged on Bakura, and Uncle Luke belonged among the stars.  He might be able to come back sometimes, but he could never stay.  That was just the way things were.

“I hope he doesn’t forget,” she said, almost to herself.

Laera scoffed in a pleasantly dismissive way.  “He loves you, child,” she said, squeezing her hand.  “You’re his little girl now.  He’ll never forget you.”  

~ HAPPY FATHER'S DAY ~

Chapter Text

19 ABY, northern Prytis mountains, Bakura

“I wish it was winter,” Malinza said, looking up at the gray clouds blanketing the sky.  “It might have snowed.”

“Ugh.”  Uncle Luke shuddered as he helped strap her into her float vest.  “I know you wouldn’t wish that on me.  This is already the coldest summer I’ve ever experienced.”

“It’s not that cold,” Malinza insisted, smiling.  Now that she was in school, she was slowly discovering that Uncle Luke was a much more important, more famous, and more dangerous person than she had known before.  It made her want to laugh thinking of someone like him being afraid of snow.  

“Cold enough,” Uncle Luke maintained, satisfying himself that she was securely strapped in.  “The water is going to be even colder, but you want to ride the waterfalls, so we’ll ride the waterfalls.  Ready?”

Malinza bounced with anticipation.  “Ready!”

She was very glad Uncle Luke had been able to spare enough time to join them on their vacation to the mountains.  Laera had made it very clear beforehand that there would be no riding of waterfalls unless Master Skywalker was there to take her.  Laera was there for the hot springs and the spa at the retreat house, enjoying the wonders of the landscape from a comfortable distance.  

They climbed into the streamlined little boat, just enough space between them for him to row and steer with the double-ended paddle.  With no automated or electrical components except for the little emergency beacons they had to wear, it conjured visions of an imagined simpler time in Malinza’s mind.  The water was clean and clear, and she could see the smooth stones that lined the riverbed.  Uncle Luke exchanged a few last words with the station attendant before he pushed away from the shore, and the current carried them forward.  

“So,” he began, taking advantage of the calm waters at the start of the course, “how’s school?”  

He had only been gone a few months, but a lot had happened.  “It’s okay,” Malinza said, skipping the boring details.  “Aunt Laera says it’s one of the best schools, and I can already read better than anybody.”

He laughed.  “All right, but don’t get used to it.  Sounds like you’ll have some stiff competition from the other kids soon enough.”

“Maybe,” Malinza allowed.  Her classmates certainly weren't stupid, but they seemed awfully distracted by silly things, and hadn’t been very friendly at first.  “Mostly they just ask me about you, and say some things I don’t think are very nice.”  She turned to look at him directly.  “Were you in love with Mommy?”

Uncle Luke looked surprised, like he wanted to frown and laugh all at once.  “I thought we were going to talk about, you know, counting, and spelling, and things like that.”

“Axella says you and Mommy were lovers during the war, but you left her.”

Now he did frown.  “Axella’s parents talk too much,” he grumbled.  “Aren’t you kids too young to be worrying about all this?”

“I’m five!” Malinza protested.  It had just been her birthday last week.  “Aunt Laera said it was a rude question and not to talk about it, but it wasn’t me, it was Axella.  Brea said that was why you didn’t come back until the New Republic made you, and Xylie thinks—”

Uncle Luke waved off the rest of the story, and looked at her with a stern expression she understood wasn’t for her.  “I’m starting to regret even asking the question,” he said, “but in service to the truth and order in your classroom, you can tell these delightful young ladies that I respected and admired your mother very much, but we were never ‘lovers,’ whatever they might think that means.  I left when our work here was done, and your mother stayed because this was her home.  Nothing more than that.”

Then why did talking about it seem to make him sad?  “Did you want more than that?” Malinza asked.

Now he looked annoyed, but also amused.  “Is that any of your concern?” he asked.

Malinza shrugged.  “She’s my Mommy.”

Uncle Luke sighed and cracked a smile.  “You’re a feisty one,” he observed, steering them around some rocks.  “I’ll admit I’d have been interested in having more of a relationship with your mother if she’d wanted to.”

“Did you wanna marry her?”

His eyes widened a bit, and Malinza knew she was pushing her luck, but she still had so many questions.  “I would have considered it,” he said, a very careful admission.

“Did you kiss?”

Uncle Luke didn’t even pretend he wasn’t shocked by that one, and for a second he looked like he was about to turn that boat around.  But he didn’t say no.

Malinza raised her eyebrows, smelling the truth.  “You did, didn’t you?  Xylie said you probably did.”

“Once!” Uncle Luke confessed, unable to completely resist an exasperated smile.  “Only once, and that was a goodbye kiss, so I don’t think it counts.  Good grief, what is this, an ethics tribunal?  And you can tell Xylie to mind her own business.”  

“I will,” Malinza promised, but she gave him a smug little sidelong look as she faced forward again.  “Sounds like you were in love with Mommy, though.”

He didn’t have a chance to reply before the river sent them careening down a roaring whitewater maze of rocks.  It was fast, it was fun, and it was very, very wet, everything she’d hoped it would be.  Malinza was dripping and shivering and giggling to herself on the other side.  

“Okay, maybe I was a little bit in love with your mother,” Uncle Luke allowed, “but I didn’t have a chance to know her as well as I would have liked, and it never came to anything.”  

“Anica says you’re in love with Laera now.”

“No.”   There was no hesitation that time.  “No, no, no, no.  The only thing we have in common is you.”

“Did Mommy love you back?”

Uncle Luke was quiet for a minute, and something about that silence made Malinza keep her eyes forward.  “That’s hardly for me to say,” he decided.  He sounded sad again.

“I think she did,” Malinza said, hoping that would make him feel better.  “We found a little holo of you in her stuff.  Aunt Laera put the chip in a hololocket for me.”  It was zipped into a pocket of her jacket now, safe inside a waterproof pouch.  She’d show it to him when they got back.  

Uncle Luke continued to steer them around the obstacles downstream, but he was very quiet for a while.

Another rapids twisted and turned around a bend, and the boat bucked wildly as they sliced their way through it.  The river dropped them in a short freefall at the end, drenching them all over again.

“I think Mommy was happy with Daddy,” Malinza finally said, wiping her wet hair out of her face.  “You didn’t find anybody?”

“I did once,” Uncle Luke admitted.

She turned around, confused.  “So, what happened?  Why aren’t you married?  Didn’t you love her?”

“I did,” he protested, and he looked like he was about to explain, but he obviously thought better of it.  “Why am I explaining this to a five-year-old?” he asked the empty air.  “Look, it’s complicated, Malinza.  I’m not even sure I’m allowed to get married.”

“Not allowed?”   She sneered at the idea.  “Why not?  Could anybody stop you?”

He thought about that for a long second.  “Not really,” he decided.  “It’s to do with being a Jedi.  It’s a discipline.  Being alone might help me do my job better.”

“Being lonely helps?”  She wasn’t convinced.  “Being lonely is bad.”

Malinza expected a correction at the very least, but Uncle Luke just sighed and steered them around a drifting log.  “Part of me is beginning to agree with you,” he said, almost grudgingly.  

The rapids seemed to be situated much closer to each other through the second half of the course, and by the time they arrived at the lodge downriver, even Malinza was sure she had ridden enough waterfalls for a while.  Uncle Luke steered them to the pier where they returned the boat to the attendants and climbed out onto dry land again.  

They went inside the lodge and found themselves in a dining hall apparently designed to accommodate damp adventurers in need of snacks.  Malinza waited in the comfortably molded plastic chair at a matching plastic table until Uncle Luke came back with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.  The minty sugar straw was an unexpected treat.

“All right,” he said, soaking up the warmth of his mug with both hands, bracing himself.  “We’ve come this far, so let’s just have it out.  What other impertinent questions do you need to know how to answer before you go back to school?”

“Well . . .”  Malinza searched her memory.  The girls hadn’t been the only ones with questions.  “Errick wants to know if you really killed the Emperor.  Did you?”

“Nope, but I was there.  My father killed the Emperor to save my life, so I can’t say I regret it.”

“Oh, okay.”  It was good to know Uncle Luke had a daddy who looked out for him.  “Bron asked if everything in Shadows of Mindor really happened.”

Uncle Luke’s eyes narrowed, and he took a long sip through his sugar straw.  “I thought they pulled that off the ‘Net years ago,” he said.  “That’s for me to know, and for him to never find out.  Next.”

“Can Jedi really hibernate like animals do?”

“Yes.  Next.”

“Did the Hapan Queen Mother really hit you with a stick to make you marry her?”

He briefly looked at the ceiling.  “You kids aren’t going to get anywhere in life if you don’t knuckle down to your math and science,” he complained.  “Short answer, yes.  No, no details until you’re older.  Next.”

“Can you walk on lava?”

“Yes.”

“Live without breathing?”

“No.”

“See the future?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you ever sleep?”

“Every day.”

Malinza sighed.  The last was awkward.  “Axella says you might be my real daddy.”

Uncle Luke’s mug came down on the table with a sharp thump.  He was angry, but not at her.  “You can tell Axella that’s ridiculous,” he said, “and a very unkind thing to say.  There’s no question about who your father was.  I hadn’t even seen your mother for almost fifteen years when I met you.”  

He paused to breathe, and closed his eyes for a second.  “Malinza, soon enough you’re going to discover that people say really crazy and messed-up things sometimes, just for the fun of it.  That’s why I’m telling you all this, so you can know what’s true and pick your battles.  I promise you don’t have to worry about who your father was, and you can be proud of him.  Commander Pter Thanas was the best kind of man, brave, decent, and honest.  I’d have been honored to serve alongside him again.”

The whole subject made Malinza a little sad, but her surprise cut through all that.  “You knew Daddy?” she asked.

“Yes.”  Uncle Luke’s expression melted into a sympathetic smile.  “I keep forgetting you’re too young to know most of the history.  You know the difference between the Empire and the Alliance, right?”

She nodded.

“Years and years ago, right after the Emperor died, Bakura was invaded by a fleet of Ssi-ruuk, and the Alliance helped the Imperial defense fleet defeat them.  Your father was the Imperial commander here, and I was leading the Alliance strike force.”

Malinza was suddenly struck by the dim memory of Nurse Romie calling him Commander Skywalker.  She knew Uncle Luke wasn’t old by adult standards, but he had obviously done a lot of living already.  Just that quick description had her imagination gently exploding into visions of warships, danger, sacrifice, and epic heroes, and she was proud that Daddy was part of it.  At this rate, history would be a very interesting subject.  

Uncle Luke smiled to himself.  “The first time we met,” he said, “your father asked me to show him my lightsaber.  I guess he had more than just a passing interest in Jedi in general.  I said no, because lightsabers aren’t things you flash around for no reason, but, in true Imperial fashion, he knew how to get what he wanted.  He threatened to take Artoo, sent two troopers at me, and forced me to defend myself.  We damaged his office a little bit, but nobody got hurt, he got his demonstration, and everybody went home happy.”

Malinza wrinkled her nose and smiled, happy to hear a story about Daddy she hadn’t heard before.  Maybe Mommy hadn’t heard it either.  The more she found out about Uncle Luke, the more it seemed like he had somehow been part of their family the whole time.  

They were politely interrupted by a woman wearing the lodge uniform and carrying a plate.  “Excuse me,” she said with a shy little smile.  “Master Skywalker?”

Uncle Luke looked up, wearing his diplomatic face.  “Yes?”

Her smile widened, and she reached out to clasp his hand.  “It’s an honor to have you with us today, sir,” she said.  “Is this young Miss Thanas?”

“It is,” Uncle Luke confirmed, warmer now that he was sure the interaction wasn’t going to be problematic.  

“On behalf of the whole staff, I just want to say that it’s wonderful what you’re doing for her.  If you don’t mind, we’d like to treat you both to the house specialty,” she said, setting the plate down between them, “and we hope you have a very pleasant stay.”

The house specialty was apparently crispy fried raadic sticks buried in melted cheese and chopped herbs.  Just the sight and the smell of it suddenly made Malinza very hungry.

“Well, we certainly appreciate that,” Uncle Luke said, perfectly at ease again.  “Thank you.”

He turned back to Malinza when the woman had gone.  “The hospitality on Bakura seems to be improving,” he said.

“Yeah,” Malinza agreed with a big smile of her own, “nobody’s been rude to you this whole time.”

“Well, help me eat this,” he said.  “It’ll probably spoil your dinner, but we’ll risk it.  Then we have to catch the next transport back and get you into a hot bath before we’re both in trouble with Laera.”

Chapter Text

Salis D’aar, Bakura, 19 ABY

It was a quiet, ordinary morning.  Malinza was enjoying the brief school holidays, lingering in bed longer than was usually allowed, not inclined to think about her outstanding homework until after lunch.  It was just drawing and identifying ten of her favorite flowers.  She could do that in one or two afternoons, tops.  

Part of her was disappointed that Uncle Luke hadn’t called or made any plans to visit during that break.  School would start again next week, and they hadn’t heard anything from him.  Aunt Laera had gently explained, and Malinza understood, that it had only been five months since he had gone with them to the mountains, and five months wasn’t a very long time for busy grown-ups.  Aunt Laera had also suggested that Uncle Luke had dropped everything and made that trip to the mountains—so soon after he’d left the first time—to prove to Malinza that he hadn’t forgotten her, and that he was serious about his commitment to come back to Bakura from time to time.  The next wait might necessarily be longer.  

Uncle Luke was a very important man, Laera was always reminding her, with very important work to do.  She never meant to suggest that Malinza wasn’t important to him, but that’s what the logic of disappointment made it feel like.  Malinza couldn’t let go of the slim hope that he would drop in unannounced someday just to take her back to the fish pond and talk about life, or that he would at least spare her a holocall now and then.  

Was he really too busy to even call?

Maybe he was.  There seemed to be a lot going on in the galaxy, but Aunt Laera never let her stay up late enough to watch the news programs.  

The aroma of fresh jam tarts was tempting her out of bed.  Malinza finally slid out from under the sheets, first one foot and then the other.  Laera was outside, enjoying her morning caf in the garden as she often did in fair weather.  

Just as she was sitting down at the table, Malinza jumped at the sound of the holoport chime.  Alone in the house, she ran to answer it, her slippers slapping on the polished floor.  The origin of the call was CORUSCANT, and that could only mean one thing.  She really wasn’t supposed to use the holoport by herself, but this was clearly a special case, and she eagerly activated their receiver.

“Good morning, Uncle Luke,” she said, a smile spreading clear across her face.

He smiled back at her.  “Good morning, kiddo,” he said, “although it’s the middle of the night here.  Sorry if it’s too early, but I really wanted to catch you, and all my daylight hours are spoken for.”

“Have you been very busy?” Malinza asked, trying to hide her private disappointment beneath polite grown-up interest.

Uncle Luke looked sympathetic, understanding her in spite of the ruse.  “Very,” he said.  “I’m sorry I haven’t called, but lately it’s been the kind of busy that we were lucky to escape alive.  And even when it wasn’t, it was busy for all kinds of other unexpected, amazing, wonderful reasons.”   

He was smiling again, and Malinza couldn’t help but notice that he seemed genuinely happy.  Not just happy to see her, or the polite sort of happy that only glossed over the sadness for a while, but actually happy.  She thought she could guess why.

“We heard about the end of the war,” she said.  “We watched the treaty signing in class.”

“Good for you,” Uncle Luke said.  “It was worth seeing.  It actually seemed a little anticlimactic in person considering everything that had happened and all the work that went into it.”

“Yeah, you didn’t show up until the very end.”  Malinza sniffed accusingly.  “We were all waiting to see you!  You can’t tell me you had someplace better to be.”

There was that smile again.  “Maybe I did,” he suggested.  

Malinza gave him her best incredulous look.

“Well, since you mention it, that’s the whole reason I wanted to talk.  I want to tell you something before you hear it from anyone else.”   He cast half a surreptitious glance over his shoulder that seemed more reflex than otherwise.  “Remember what we were talking about last time on the river?  I think you were right.”

“About it being silly to be lonely on purpose?”  Malinza remembered.  “Of course I was right.”  Then, suddenly, she thought she realized what he was trying to say.  “Wait . . . wait . . . !”  Something important enough to merit a nocturnal holocall, important enough to be newsworthy all the way out on Bakura.  “Wait, are you . . . ?  Do you mean you’re . . . ?  Uncle Luke, what did you do?”

He almost laughed.  “I found someone,” he said simply.

“Already?”

“Oh, we’ve been friends for years.  We seemed to be taking turns these last few months pulling each other out of dangerous situations, and finally there came a point when we had to admit that we weren’t just friends anymore.  I’ve had enough of being lonely, so I asked her to marry me, she said yes, and we’re planning a wedding right now.  Councilor Organa Solo will be making the official announcement in a day or two.”

Malinza shrieked with delight, prompting Uncle Luke to wince around his grin and pull out his earpiece for a second.  It was all so sudden and exciting and unexpected that she carried right on shrieking until Laera came in from the garden.

“Child!” her guardian protested, sweeping into the room.  “What on earth are you—?”

“Aunt Laera!” Malinza gushed.  “Uncle Luke’s getting married!  Uncle Luke’s getting married!   Are we invited?  Can we come?  Is she pretty?  What’s her name?”

“Yes, Master Skywalker,” Laera agreed with new interest, “what is this intriguing lady’s name?”

“Her name is Mara,” Luke said, “and, yes, she’s very pretty.  I don’t think I’d be the only one to say so, either.”   He turned back to Malinza.  “She was with me at the signing.”

“Oh, the Jedi with the pretty hair?”  Malinza knew she had seen her.  Now she wished she had been paying more attention, but the bright red hair was almost all she could remember.

Aunt Laera looked hesitant.  “That Mara?” she asked.  “Mara Jade?  Living dangerously, are we?”

“Hardly,” Uncle Luke assured her with a tolerant smile.  “It’s not like that anymore.”

“Like what?”  Malinza looked back and forth between them.  “Like what anymore?”

“She just means that our friendship had a rough start,” he explained, somehow without really explaining anything.  “But that was ten years ago.  Things change.”

“I hope not too much,” Malinza said.  “You’re still going to visit me, right?  Will Mara come with you?”

“Nothing is going to stop me coming out to visit you,” Uncle Luke insisted.   “I promised, remember?  I’ll have to tell Mara about you sooner rather than later, but I’m not exactly sure how to do that yet.  It might be . . . complicated.”

Malinza felt a sudden worry dragging on all her new buoyant emotions.  “Because of Mommy?” she asked.

Uncle Luke frowned.  He looked like he wanted to deny it but couldn’t.  “Maybe,” he admitted.  “Maybe not.  Don’t worry about it.  I’ll handle it.”

Laera nodded politely and slipped out to the kitchen.  “So, when’s the wedding?” Malinza asked.  There was something about weddings that young girls found irresistibly fascinating, and she wanted all the details she could get before she rejoined her friends.  “Soon?”

“As soon as possible.  Mara and I would have had it done already, but ideally this is supposed to be a once-in-a-lifetime event, and lots of other people apparently have expectations.  So, at least another month, maybe longer.  Of course you’ll be invited,” he said, though with a significant note of caution.  “I just don’t know if you’ll be able to spare that much time out of school.  Bakura is a long way from the Core.”

“Maybe not,” Malinza sighed, knowing he was probably right.  She couldn’t miss more than two weeks if she wanted to pass her classes, once-in-a-lifetime weddings notwithstanding.  It would have been exciting to see Coruscant, maybe be introduced to Councilor Organa Solo, meet Uncle Luke’s other niece and nephews.  Meet Mara.  “I guess all the good stuff will probably be on HoloNet.”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Uncle Luke agreed, “whether we like it or not.”   He offered her an encouraging smile.  “Don’t be too disappointed.  Ultimately it’s just one day, just the first day of the rest of our lives, and I’ll promise you again, right now,” he said, jabbing a finger into the desk for emphasis, “you will be a part of that.  Okay?”

Malinza appreciated the reassurance, but she didn’t try to hide the disappointment or even the twinge of jealousy that wormed its way into her mind.  For all Uncle Luke’s sincerity in agreeing to be part of her extended family, his real family was all on Coruscant with him while she was still stuck on Bakura.  They probably never even thought about her.  She hoped they appreciated being able to see him so often.

Uncle Luke read her face like the master instructor he was, and gave her a significant look.  Then, as one, they drew a deep and deliberate breath, letting it out slowly as he had taught her the last time they had been together.  “What did I say?” he prompted her.

“Patience makes life easier,” Malinza recited with as much good grace as she could muster.

“And?”

“Everyone’s time comes.”  

He smiled again.  “Mara and I are living proof of that.  I hadn’t foreseen this even a few months ago, and yet here we are.  Shoot, there was a time when I was sure I’d never get off Tatooine.  We each have our own unique path.  Everyone’s time comes, sometimes when you least expect it, and you’ll be best prepared if you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing each day until then.”

Malinza scowled and mushed up the smile he was coaxing out of her.  “So, you’re saying you want me to cheer up, make good grades, and not try to grow up too fast.”

“All very good advice,” Uncle Luke agreed, amused by her rebellious petulance.  “But what I really meant was to not waste today wishing for tomorrow.  That’s what I’d tell my younger self, anyway, if he’d bother to listen.  Tomorrow comes regardless, and someday you might find yourself missing those quiet mornings you spent wandering around in your slippers wondering how you were going to spend all your boring free time.”

He was probably right—grown-ups often were—but Malinza didn’t feel like granting the point, and instead skipped right to the heart of the matter.  “I miss you,” she protested.  “Now.”

His expression melted a bit, just as she knew it would.  “I miss you, too,” he assured her.  “Listen, things are going to be crazy for a while until the wedding’s over with, and obviously Mara and I want to spend some time together afterward.  But she still has some work to finish up, and we can’t officially settle down for a while yet.  Give it three or four months, five at the most, and then I should have some time.  Hold me to that, all right?”

Malinza forced herself to smile.  Another five months seemed like a very long time, but she knew he was doing his best, and she really couldn’t be sorry that he was going to be busy getting married and honeymooning with his new wife.  Despite her own disappointment, she was truly happy for him, and that felt like a very grown-up emotion indeed.  “I will,” she promised.  “No excuses.”

“No excuses,” he agreed.  “But, on that note, I really need to get to bed or I’m going to be useless to everyone in the morning, and I’m scheduled to have my sister, my bride-to-be, and half the Jedi Temple after me before lunch.”

“O-kay,” Malinza allowed, dragging out the word to sound playfully reluctant.  “I guess you’d better, then.  Good night, Uncle Luke.  And congratulations.”

He smiled, and did look really tired now that it came to it.  “Thanks, sweetheart.  I’ll be thinking about you.”

“Five months,” she reminded him.

“Five months, come war, plague, invasion, or supernova.  A promise is a promise.”

She hated having to finally switch off the call, and in the sudden silence the sheer distance between Bakura and Coruscant weighed on Malinza again.  She practiced her deep breathing, the best way she could feel close to him in the stillness.  As usual, there was nothing else to do but soldier on, and no doubt that’s what he would have told her to do.  That’s what he was always doing.  

Besides, she still hadn’t had any breakfast.

“Such exciting news about Master Skywalker,” Laera said, putting away the clean dishes.  “I’m afraid he’s right, though.  It would be too impractical for us to try to attend.”

“I know.”  Malinza continued to wear her brave face, picking through the jam tarts.

“We could host a party here,” Laera suggested.  “Dress up, invite your friends, watch it together.”

That was a thought.  It wouldn’t be nearly as good as actually being there, but it would certainly be more fun than sitting at home alone.  “I like that idea,” Malinza said, careful not to talk with her mouth full.  “Can I have a new dress?”

Several weeks later, their house was decked with beribboned flowers, ringing with music, and full of extravagantly-dressed girls.  The large vidscreen in the living room was tuned to the live coverage of the Skywalker wedding, which for now consisted entirely of commentary and different views of the growing crowds both in and outside the immaculate Reflection Gardens in the heart of Galactic City.  The ceremony wasn’t due to begin for at least another half hour, and in the meantime Malinza was enjoying her role as hostess.

In the end she had decided to invite her entire class, not just her favorite friends.  Laera, initially inclined to object to the size of the party, had admitted that it was a diplomatically shrewd move to not give Axella and her sort any more excuse to resent her.  None of the boys had shown any interest in attending, but the event had caught the imagination of all the girls despite Axella’s initial sneers.  Now Malinza had the satisfaction of seeing the social tables turned in her favor, admired rather than mocked for her privileged association with Master Skywalker, and not even Axella had dared to be the odd one out.  She and Xylie had obviously tried to outdress everyone else and were looking down their noses at the rest of the party, but Malinza didn’t care.  She went out of her way to offer them the little tea sandwiches she and Laera had made, and enjoyed her triumph in gracious silence.  

Malinza had chosen a shimmering white and silver gown fit for a formal ball.  Laera had helped her send Uncle Luke a brief message asking what colors Mara had chosen for her wedding party, but he hadn’t been able to reply soon enough for them to take that into account.  Apparently there had been some trouble with the bridal dresses, and last-minute arrangements had to be made.  Almost too late for it to matter, he had sent back a single word: Purple.   There were many shades of purple, but Malinza had chosen a large violet bow for her hair and hoped for the best.  

The formal invitation they had received, sent to an exclusive few, was prominently displayed on the buffet table.  Craft stations had been set up around the room where their guests could use their artistic talents to decorate sweet biscuits or write and illuminate congratulatory cards for the newlyweds.  There was even a miniature wedding cake for dessert, adorned with the hasty addition of purple sugar flowers.  

“ . . . already plagued by violence and other setbacks,” the Coruscanti commentator was saying over an aerial view of the Reflection Gardens, “we can only hope all the excitement is over, and the ceremony can go forward as planned.”

Malinza joined her friend Reena at one of the tables where the other girl was very diligently drawing sprays of purple flowers around her best attempt at the Alliance Starbird.  Reena wasn’t the fanciest or even very pretty, but she more than made up for that by being smart and kind and sensitive, better company than Axella any day.  

“Are you really gonna send these to them?” Reena asked, fussing over the details of her drawing.

“We’ll save them until Uncle Luke comes back,” Malinza explained, “and give them to him then.”

The idea that her card would actually make it into Luke Skywalker’s hand seemed to fill Reena with even more anxiety.  “Oh.  I’ll have to make sure I don’t get any words wrong.”

“We barely know how to write,” Malinza snickered.  “We’re allowed to get words wrong.”

“ . . . understand there was a private ceremony yesterday in the Jedi Temple.  Do we know yet what that entailed?”

“So far no one’s talking, but we’re all curious.  As you know, there’s no recent precedent for a Jedi wedding, so the ceremony had to be almost entirely improvised.  It’s a fundamental break with tradition, Mav, no matter how you slice it, and an unambiguous statement about the way Master Skywalker intends to govern this new Jedi Order during his tenure.”

“They make it sound like he’s doing something wrong,” Whyn observed, frowning at the screen.

“Not wrong, just different,” Malinza insisted, secretly pleased that in some tiny way she had helped talk Uncle Luke into such an important decision.  “Things change.”

“Anyway, I made these,” Whyn said, holding a plate of biscuits decorated with lopsided pink hearts.  “Can we eat them now?”

“Why not?”  Malinza picked one for herself.  “It’s a party.”  

“What happened yesterday?” Lyza asked, licking a biscuit that was buried beneath a small mountain of icing.  “They keep talking about it, but I haven’t been able to hear.”

“Somebody attacked Uncle Luke and his friends while they were at a party,” Malinza explained.  “He still has a lot of enemies, I guess, even though the war’s over.  Then somebody tried to kill Mara, but she almost killed him instead.  She’s a Jedi, too, you know.”

Reena looked horrified.  “They’re just trying to get married,” she protested, unable to understand how anyone could be mean-spirited enough to want to ruin that.  

Malinza shrugged.  “I guess they’re kind of already married, but they have to do it all again for some reason.”

“The Jedi wedding wasn’t strictly legal as far as the government is concerned,” Laera explained, sweeping into the room with a pitcher of sparkling fruit water.  “This ceremony will finally make it official.”

“Maybe I can have two different weddings,” Lyza wondered out loud.  “Do you get two different gowns?”

“. . . we’re hearing now that there’s been another delay.  Someone actually tried to steal the gowns as they were being delivered, if you can believe that!”

Laera paused on her way back to the kitchen, and the chatter in the room quieted.

“That’s ridiculous!  Someone is really determined to disrupt this wedding.”

“Well, they haven’t been successful yet.  Our reporters on the ground apparently asked General Wedge Antilles, one of the groomsmen, if the ceremony was going ahead as planned, and he said . . . well, we can’t repeat what he said, but it seems they intend to press on regardless of any mayhem yet to be seen.”

“I hope everything’s okay,” Reena fretted, powerless to do anything else.  “Miss Laera, how do you spell ‘congratulations?’”

Malinza was starting to get offended for Uncle Luke’s sake, and Mara’s too.  This was getting silly, and she had a bad feeling there would be more to come.  She loaded a plate with sandwiches and iced biscuits and sat in front of the vidscreen to pay more attention.  Lyza, Whyn, and Lulie followed her example.

“. . . might be a sad commentary on the state of the security forces in this sector of the city if they can’t secure something as high profile as this event.  Did the Skywalkers decline extra countermeasures?”

“Not to my knowledge, but obviously anyone determined to come against this crowd is going to have his work cut out for him.”

“Why are they doing this?” Malinza grumped, taking it personally.  “It’s just one day.  It’s just a party!  It’s so rude!”

“It’s always hard to lose a war,” Laera said, still lingering outside the kitchen, her eyes fixed on the screen with a quiet sort of dread.  “Some people just can’t let it go.”

“I’m told our feed is live now inside.  Let’s switch to that now.”

The view dissolved into an image of the interior of the vaulted hall with its tall stained glass windows.  Guests were seated, but the principals of the ceremony were obviously less than ready.  Malinza finally saw Uncle Luke in the middle of a knot of restless groomsmen.  He looked annoyed—and rather dashing—but not overly concerned.  

Reena slipped in from the side and sat on the floor.

“General Antilles seems to be taking charge of the situation.  Let’s see if we can’t angle in closer.”

Malinza grabbed the remote and turned down the music just as the stream zoomed in on the wedding party.  “No, Luke, you’re not going anywhere,” General Antilles seemed to be saying, although it was hard to hear.  “I heard you.  You, Han, Karrde, you all have parts in the ceremony, so you’re going nowhere.  You’ve saved the galaxy enough, now the galaxy is going to pay its debt to you.  Chewie, Tycho, Corran, Kam, the rest of you, on me.  We have trouble.  Threepio, get Jacen Solo—you’re the ushers now, go!”

The knot of men scattered, and the newsfeed zoomed out and fractured into three different views of the grounds.  “The Rogues have deployed to meet an active threat,” the newsmen were saying, their excitement rising.  “I repeat, we seem to have an active threat to the venue right now!  Do we have eyes on what’s happening outside?  Someone needs to start evacuating those people out there.  Are we hearing anything from the police about this?  Wait . . . CSF reports unmarked swoops approaching at speed!  Repeat, unmarked swoops!  If you or anyone you know is in the crowd outside the Reflection Gardens, you need to move or take cover right now!”  

It wasn’t a party anymore.  They all watched in stunned amazement as the crowd on the screen began to churn, people started screaming, and a gang of black swoops descended out of the sky and opened fire.  Luke’s groomsmen answered with blasters and lightsabers, and the scene devolved into fiery chaos.  

Malinza had never seen anything like a real battle before.  Laera was stiff and pale, looking as though she wanted to switch it off but couldn’t stop watching.  People were falling wounded, swoops were crashing, the gardens were burning, and sirens were wailing.  Strangely, in another part of the split screen, the ceremony seemed to be continuing as planned.  The hall shook from time to time, and most of the groomsmen were missing, but otherwise everything was calm.  

“It looks like they’re going ahead anyway,” the newsmen were saying, pausing just a moment from their coverage of the fight.  “I guess they’ve all seen worse than a few swoopies in their day.  As you can see, Admiral Gial Ackbar is officiating.  Master Skywalker is ready, waiting with Captain Solo.  And here at last is the bride, looking quite stunning in the exclusive designer gown we’ve all been waiting to see.  Oh.”  The walls on the right side of the screen shuddered beneath the force of an explosion they saw on the left side.  “That’s another swoop down.  CSF are containing the violence now.  And it looks like Chewbacca the Wookiee has intercepted a few more terrorists attempting to gain entry through the rooftop ventilation.  I have to say, Mav, this is the strangest wedding I’ve ever seen.”

“It sure is!” Brea agreed, suddenly remembering the plateful of snacks in her lap.  “This isn’t what I expected at all.”

“Are those people dead?” Axella demanded, looking disgusted.

“I sincerely hope not,” Laera said firmly, lifting her voice to be heard over the clamor of both their guests and the reporters, clearly implying her wish that they not talk about it.

“There’s a lot of blood on the ground!”

“He’s still alive, I saw him moving.”

“You can’t bleed from blaster wounds, stupid!”

“Yes, you can!   Look!

“Her arm’s falling off!”

“I’ll bet they can put it back on.  Look, the medics got her.”

“That swoop guy’s dead.  They shot him in the face.”

“I’ve never seen dead people before.”

“He’s on fire!”

“Stupid boys said weddings were boring.”

Malinza chewed her way through a biscuit without really tasting it.  Mara looked quite lovely in her white gown and veil, apparently happy to ignore the occasional explosions accompanying the ceremonial music as she processed with a train of purple bridesmaids to the front of the hall to join Luke.  The quiet but radiant look they shared despite everything going on around them convinced Malinza that this was what true love looked like.  It was real, and that made her very happy.  

“She's so pretty,” Reena sighed.

“Yeah,” Malinza agreed, “but Uncle Luke wouldn’t love her if she wasn’t a good person.  Pretty isn’t everything.”

“Well, with the attack more or less contained outside, it looks like they’re ready to begin the ceremony,” the presenters said, muting the violence but leaving it on the screen.  

“Friends, family, people of so many diverse worlds,” Admiral Ackbar began in what passed for silence inside the hall, “we are gathered here to celebrate—”

“Celebrate a travesty!” a crazed man hollered, leaping out of the crowd to the shrieks and yelps of both the nervous guests and the crowd of schoolgirls who had just begun to relax.  Luke swept Mara behind him, and the wedding party collapsed into a defensive formation.  “Celebrate the destruction of a people and their culture, Imperial culture!  I cannot allow this abomination to take place!”

“Oh, preserve us!” Laera gasped, positively gray.  “Is that a—?”

“Is that a bomb?” the newsmen finished for her, caught between horror and excitement.  “Could this be a suicide attack?  He’s clearly armed with a deadman’s switch, and his cloak seems to be weaponized.  Wait . . . no, he’s threatening a cyberattack, a computer virus to cripple the Republic’s infrastructure.  Let’s listen.”

“My thumb comes off this switch,” the madman was saying, “the virus downloads.  Your Republic dies the way my Empire did, in pieces.”   

The few moments of awkward silence were tentatively broken by the commentators.  “Hasn’t the Coruscanti communications network been shielded against these kinds of cyberattacks for years?” one of them asked.   “Who is this guy?  I wonder if he knows that.”

Malinza watched, hardly daring to breathe, as Luke waved the others down and carefully approached the attacker alone.  “I don’t understand,” he said, still a force of calm and patience in the midst of the confusion.  “Why here, why now?”  

“Because they are all watching, Skywalker,” the man growled, brandishing the wired switch in his fist.  “When the virus goes, all trade between worlds will stop.  Famine, disease, poverty . . . all the things given to Imperials.”

That hardly seemed fair, but Malinza kept her comments to herself.

“You’re protesting an evil,” Luke surmised, advancing a few more paces.   “What was yours has been taken away.  Others have been given what was taken from you.”

“I don’t want charity!” the Imperial protested.  “I just want what is mine.  I just want what is fair!”

“You want to be treated equally, not punished because of your family and its status.”

“Yes, exactly, that’s right.”

Uncle Luke looked sympathetic, but firm.  “Congratulations.  You want what all of us wanted, the freedom to be who we want to be.  You’ve just become a rebel, and that’s okay, because we welcome that change in anyone.”

The whole room was quiet, just listening.  Something about Uncle Luke’s voice—so calm, so gentle, so kind, and so completely reasonable—made it extremely compelling.  Malinza wasn’t surprised when even the angry terrorist began to relax.

“It occurs to me now that you, a Jedi Master, could have kept the button down on this deadman’s switch no matter what,” he was saying, looking appropriately ashamed of himself.

“I could have,” Uncle Luke agreed.

“You didn’t.  Why?”

Malinza finally smiled to herself.  She could feel the lesson coming.

“If I stopped you, you’d still be angry,” Uncle Luke explained.  “If I let you stop yourself, a doorway to peace would open to you.  You saw this as a travesty because, by marrying Mara, I was taking an important icon from you.  But this is about starting a new life, not ending an old one.”

At some point, while everyone had been fixated on the standoff inside the hall, the swoop gang had been dealt with, and now the scorched and filthy groomsmen came back inside to stand with Luke.  They were a formidable bunch, glaring quietly at the intruder, but Uncle Luke offset their hostility with a genuine smile.  “Come join us,” he said, extending an invitation.  “Join the celebration.”

The man slumped even further.  “You can’t mean that,” he said, apparently echoing the sentiments of several in the wedding party, most of the guests, and probably all of the gathered security forces.  

“I do,” Uncle Luke insisted, putting a hand on the other’s shoulder like an old friend.  “Let everyone see the rifts be healed.  The New Republic is a family.  We always have room for new members.”

The commentators immediately started jabbering as the disillusioned Imperial—stripped of his wired disguise and all hidden weapons—was escorted to a seat under close guard, putting their thoughts out there before the ceremony resumed.

“He isn’t even angry,” Reena said, amazed.

“Uncle Luke is always trying to see the best in people,” Malinza explained, “and trying to teach everyone else to do that, too.”

Even as she said it, she realized that was exactly what he had just done.  Because they are all watching, the man had said, and he wasn’t wrong.  Whole worlds full of people were probably watching right now just like they were, and like a true master Uncle Luke had demonstrated to them all how to handle enemies not just with force, but with kindness.

Fortunately, the rest of the wedding was allowed to proceed without interruption.  Luke and Mara made their public vows, exchanged rings, and shared a heartfelt kiss that provoked more than a few happy tears around the room.  It was just like a storybook, in spite of or maybe even because of the fighting and bloodshed.  When they finally turned and Admiral Ackbar said, “I present to you, the Skywalkers!” it felt even more earned than it normally would.  Malinza gladly led her guests in a round of applause.  

As the news coverage descended into more retrospective commentary, Laera gladly swooped in to switch it off.  “Well!” she said, obviously relieved that her young charges hadn’t witnessed even more death and destruction than they had.  “That was quite the event.  Who wants some cake?”

Chapter Text

20 ABY, Salis D’aar, Bakura

Malinza was still crying when the school transport dropped her off at home.  

She was trying to stop; today was supposed to be a happy day.  Uncle Luke was coming—true to his word, five months, two weeks, and three days after he had promised to come—although he had barely managed to carve out enough time to make the trip worthwhile.  Malinza had been giddy with anticipation all morning and much of the afternoon, at least until their General Galactic History lesson.  That day, in terms appropriate to six-year-olds, they had discussed the rise of Emperor Palpatine and the fall of an important Jedi named Anakin Skywalker.

The name had cut her at once.  Their teacher didn’t dwell on the details, presenting the important parts as a simple matter of fact: Chancellor Palpatine taking over the Republic within the laws of the day, the sudden appearance of Darth Vader at the same time Anakin was reported to have died, the suppression of the Jedi, and the quiet resistance within the Senate.  She left off with a promise to begin their overview of the Galactic Civil War next week, casually mentioning as if it were an interesting bit of trivia that Darth Vader—Anakin Skywalker—was the father of famous twin children, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker and Chief of State Leia Organa Solo.  

The idea had shaken her.  Unable to resist, Malinza had spent the study hour before dismissal typing prompts as best she could into the public archives, reading sources above her level and much less age-appropriate.  Despite the big words and long sentences, she had plowed through the whole ugly history, images and all: Anakin’s first crimes as he abandoned his life as a Jedi to join the Emperor, the brutality of the Jedi purge, the attack on the Temple at Coruscant, what Darth Vader had done, devastating worlds and hunting down fugitives, what he had done to Uncle Luke and his sister when he had found them, and finally the purported events of the Battle of Endor.  

The story of Darth Vader’s betrayal of Palpatine and his death completely depended on the testimony of Luke Skywalker, the only surviving witness.  When the secret of Darth Vader’s true name had finally come out, Jedi Skywalker had apparently sat down with the New Republic’s military authorities and given a sworn deposition, adding a lot more honest detail to his first account of the battle.  The audio data was publicly available.  Malinza had listened, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, as a younger Uncle Luke told the tragic story in a sort of detached monotone, pausing only to answer the questions of the officers and statesmen gathered to hear it.  

It was horrific.  Her mind echoed with his simple admission to her when they had first met, that he had grown up without his parents, too.  Malinza knew what it was like to lose her mother and father, but it was nothing like that.   Whatever she had imagined for him, it wasn’t that.  That was awful.  It was unjust.  It was cruel.  He, of all people, deserved better.

Weighed down by emotions and realities that were too big for her, Malinza was still inconsolable as she climbed the steps to their front door.  

“Oh, child!” Laera said, meeting her in the entryway, understandably concerned.  She took Malinza’s bag and coaxed her out of her coat.  “What’s wrong?”

Malinza tried to explain, but just burst into sobs again.  Somehow she managed to say something about Darth Vader, that he was Anakin Skywalker, that all the Jedi were dead, and Uncle Luke’s own daddy had tried to kill him.

Laera sighed, both relieved and sympathetic, and enfolded her in a hug.  “Hush, child,” she said.  “It’s not a nice story, to be sure, but I don’t think Master Skywalker would like you upsetting yourself on his account.  Come on.  He’s already on his way from the spaceport, and you can’t greet him looking like that.”

No, that was the last thing she wanted.  Malinza wiped her eyes and tried to calm her shuddering breaths.  She really needed to blow her nose.  

“Go on.  Clean yourself up, and take a minute to calm down.”

She tried to do that.  Malinza washed her face, changed her clothes, practiced her breathing, and blew her sorrows into a tissue.  She sipped cold fruit water and sat in a nest of cushions on the couch, waiting.  But she couldn’t stop thinking about it.  It was too terrible.

It was only fifteen minutes later that the security feed caught Uncle Luke bounding up the stairs.  He seemed to be in a very good mood, with a new spring in his step, a smile on his face, and a gift bag in hand.  Laera met him at the door with the appropriate pleasantries, but he immediately looked past her to catch Malinza’s eye.  “Hey, you,” he said, almost glowing with affectionate satisfaction.  “Told you I’d make it.”

Malinza wanted to be happy, told herself to smile, but just the sight of him made her start crying again.

Uncle Luke’s smile vanished.  “What’s wrong?” he asked Laera as Malinza ran to wrap herself around his waist.  “I’m not that late.”

She heard Laera sigh.  “Her history lesson today was rather distressing,” her guardian explained in low tones.  “The origin of Darth Vader and the rise of the Empire.  I’m afraid she was a bit broadsided by his relationship to you.”

Now Uncle Luke sighed, and gently stroked her hair.  “Well,” he said, “she seems to be taking it about as well as I did when I found out.  Nothing a lot of time and sweets can’t fix.”  He and Laera murmured and nodded among themselves for a moment, and then he whispered, “I’ll handle it.”

Laera turned and disappeared into the kitchen to prepare supper, and Uncle Luke slowly pushed Malinza off him.  “Come on,” he said, reassuringly firm as he turned her back toward the couch.  “Let’s sit down.”

They did, Malinza huddled in the corner with her knees drawn up to her chest.  Uncle Luke handed her the gift bag.  “I brought your wedding favors,” he said.  “I’m sorry you couldn’t come, but at the same time I’m glad you were safe here.”

Malinza sniffled.  “Me, too,” she admitted in a stuffy voice, accepting the bag.  Inside she found a pretty box made of purple paper with SKYWALKER engraved on top in silver letters.  Inside it was an assortment of marbled chocolates stamped with the initials L and M.   She ate one, but then closed the box.  They were too pretty to eat all at once.  

“I also brought you these,” he said, rummaging in his pocket, “for your collection.”  He handed her what looked like a small chunk of duracrete.  “Coruscant,” he explained, and then produced a striated piece of sandstone.  “Tatooine.”

Malinza closed her fingers around the rocks, managing the first real smile of the afternoon.  As comfortable and as familiar as Bakura was, some restless part of her was still itching to visit all those other worlds in their galaxy she was always hearing about.  Uncle Luke couldn’t take her away with him, so instead he seemed determined to bring the galaxy to her, one tiny piece at a time.

“Now,” he said, sobering a bit and lowering his voice, “what did your teacher tell you to make you so upset?”

“She didn’t,” Malinza insisted, sniffling again.  “She just told us who Darth Vader was, who he used to be.  I looked up the rest.”

A spark of alarm crossed his face.  “What, by yourself?  You’re hardly six.  How do you even know how to type?”

“I can read,” Malinza protested, “and you only need one finger to type.”

His eyes lost their focus as his thoughts wandered, but then they bored into her again.  “What did you read?”

Malinza dropped her gaze, twisting her fingers together in her lap.  “Everything I could find,” she admitted.

Uncle Luke sat back and closed his eyes, drawing a long breath while he reevaluated.  He probably knew better than most what was in the public archives.  “Well, I’m sorry you did that,” he said, “for your sake.  The truth is always worth having, but sometimes some truths should wait until you’re old enough to handle them.  There’s a reason your teachers leave out certain details, you know.”

Malinza just nodded, knowing she’d be lucky if those morbid images didn’t give her nightmares for weeks.  

“Ask your teachers if you have questions,” he insisted.  “Ask Laera, or ask me.  But don’t go poking through unfiltered databanks until you’re at least ten, okay?”  

“Okay,” she agreed, nodding again.  It was probably good advice, and now she wished she’d waited and talked to him about it first.  It had been such a shock in the moment that she had needed to know everything she could right away.  “When did you find out?” she asked, almost a whisper.

Uncle Luke just looked at her for a long moment, his expression carefully controlled.  “When I was twenty-two,” he said.  “When he told me.”   

The thought of it gave Malinza the shivers.

“I grew up thinking he was dead, that he’d been a navigator on a freighter,” he continued, “but that wasn’t true.  Then, when I found out more about him, I took some comfort in the idea that he’d died a hero.  But that wasn’t true, either.  Darth Vader, of all people, was the only one who told me the truth, and the truth was so much worse than him being dead.  The truth can be hard, and cruel, but I’d still rather have it than any of the pretty lies I’d believed before that, especially when it was the truth that gave me the power to remind my father of who he was before the end.”  

He smiled, and gently jabbed his fist into her arm.  “So ask me next time.  I might not tell you the whole truth right away, but I promise I’ll never lie to you.  Deal?”

That smile was contagious.  “Deal,” Malinza agreed, but then she frowned again.  “You didn’t tell me they took your sister from you, too.”

“It was a hard time for everyone,” Uncle Luke said.  “They had their reasons.”

It was a bleak and unsatisfying answer, but undoubtedly true.  Maybe it was one of those not-quite-whole truths he would explain when she was older.  Malinza was almost afraid to ask the next question that sprang to mind, but he had told her to ask, so she dared.  “What happened to your mother?”

Something changed behind his eyes, and Malinza immediately understood with some chagrin that there was something about that question that was harder and more disquieting than even his father’s fate.  “I don’t know,” he finally admitted.  “No one’s been able to tell me.  I don’t even know her name.”

That was almost worse than everything else.  Malinza tried to imagine not having any memories of her mother at all, Mommy erased from her life, never knowing even her name or what she looked like, and she felt the tears welling again.

“But that’s old news now,” Uncle Luke insisted kindly, seeing her emotion, “and crying about it isn’t going to do us any good.  It’s not so bad.  I got my father back in the end.  I got my sister back, my best friend for a brother-in-law, a niece, nephews, and you.  I even have a wife now,” he said, holding up the hand with the ring on it, “which I’m still getting used to.  Things could be worse.  They have been worse.  Today is fine.”

“I guess now you’ll have kids too, huh?”  Malinza was trying to follow his example and put all her miserable thoughts out of mind.  She knew she was supposed to be happy for him, was happy for him, but she couldn’t help wondering just how much harder it would be for him to get away to the edge of Wild Space to see her if he had a wife and kids of his own on Coruscant.  It was hard enough already.  

As usual, Uncle Luke saw straight through her, and he gave her a playfully narrow look.  “I don’t care if I have ten kids of my own,” he said very deliberately, “I will never stop caring about you.  I will never stop wanting to see you.”

“But what if your wife doesn’t like me?” Malinza whinged with a smile lurking beneath, sensing that now was an acceptable time to air all her insecurities without compunction.  “What if she hates Bakura?”

“I will never stop checking on you,” Uncle Luke continued, calmly quashing all her objections with a lurking smile of his own.

“What if—?”

“NEV-er,” he insisted, leaning in.  “Never.  I’m a part of your life, you’re a part of my life, and one way or another you’ll be a part of Mara’s life.  I hope we’ll have at least a few kids someday—ten is unlikely, considering our late start—but when we do, we’ll bring them to meet you so that you can be a part of their lives, too.  Okay?”

Malinza was self-aware enough to feel a little ashamed of sounding so needy, but most of her, the part that was an average almost-six-year-old child, appreciated the reassurance.  

Uncle Luke offered his hand.  Malinza gladly put her smaller one in it, and there was something about his touch that immediately calmed her.  “Stop worrying,” he said, looking her in the eye.  Despite his soft tone and gentle smile, Malinza felt it had the force of a command.  

“It just feels so far away and lonely out here sometimes,” she said.  “You always have so much work to do, and I—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he insisted, squeezing her hand.  “Nothing else matters.  You’ll always be my special girl.”

Malinza blushed and looked away, and when she looked back, Uncle Luke was again offering her the chocolate box.

“Have another one,” he suggested with a sly glance toward the kitchen.  “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Only if you have one, too,” Malinza decided, handing him a piece.  “Then we can both be in trouble.”

They scarfed their chocolate in conspiratorial silence, and seemed to get clean away with it.  Whatever Laera was making had started to smell really good.

“Any plans for this week?” Uncle Luke asked.  “Consider me at your disposal.”

Don’t waste today wishing for tomorrow, he had said.  Now he might as well have told her not to waste today crying over yesterday.  She had been waiting for today too long to waste it.

“Can you meet us after school and take me and my friend to the gardens?” Malinza asked.  “Her name’s Reena, and I think she’d really like to meet you.”  Then she smiled a naughty, mischievous smile.  “Maybe you could say hi to Axella, too.”

+  +  +

At this juncture comes Building with Broken Things, a fic we prepared earlier.  (◦ ‿ -)  The next chapter will pick up where that story ends.

Chapter Text

23 ABY, Salis D’aar, Bakura

“All right!” Mara declared, throwing out her arms and commanding the room the moment she stepped inside.  Luke slung the rain off his jacket with a wry smile and came in behind her, shutting the storm outside.  “We are officially on vacation!  No one but no one will be kidnapped, maimed, brainwashed, or blow random fratz up for at least the next six days.  Am I clearly understood?”

Malinza laughed, but didn’t dare object.  It was very good to see them again.  “Yes, ma’am.”

“Welcome back,” Laera said, always the gracious hostess, relieving them of their wet jackets.  “We waited lunch for you.”

“You’re a hero, Laera.  We’re starved.”  

Malinza rushed in for a big, enthusiastic hug from Uncle Luke, the way they began every visit.  It always seemed to set the universe right in ways nothing else could.  This time she discovered he didn’t have to get on his knee anymore to do it properly.  “You’ve been growing,” he observed, holding her a few moments longer than he reasonably had to.  It was enough to convince Malinza that even Uncle Luke needed his universe set right from time to time.  

“Like a weed,” Laera agreed.

“I needed a bunch of new clothes,” Malinza told him.

“Hey, hey, move over now.”  Mara pushed her husband aside to claim her own hug.  “Life comes at you fast, girl.  It doesn’t feel like it’s been more than a year already.”

“Yes, it does,” Luke contradicted her, with feeling.  

“All right, no need to rub it in anymore!”  Mara held Malinza at arm’s length just to look at her.  “I was away on business and missed half the excitement with the Second Imperium,” she explained.  “Master Skywalker won’t say so in as many words, but I think he’s a little salty about it.”

“That’s your imagination,” Luke insisted with a narrow look and a smirk, but they shared a glance that spoke volumes.  It was like watching the pair of them have three conversations in an instant.  

Malinza had noticed almost as soon as she had seen them together how closely bonded Luke and Mara seemed to be.  It was probably something to do with being Jedi, but she could still aspire to finding a life partner at least half as compatible as that.  It clearly wasn’t impossible.  

“Come sit down,” Laera beckoned.  “Food’s waiting.”

It wasn’t a formal meal by any means—just sandwiches, salad, and crisps—and it felt so familiar and comfortable that Malinza wished they could enjoy family meals more often than a few times out of every year.  Still, she didn’t want to invite misfortune with ingratitude, so she resolved to appreciate the occasion while it lasted.

“We understand it’s been a busy year for you all,” Laera began as they ate, inviting the Skywalkers to elaborate.  

“That’s one way to describe it,” Luke agreed, indulging in some dramatic understatement.  Malinza didn’t get the impression that he’d been overwhelmed by the ordeal, but his expression implied that it had been more than enough to fray his nerves.  

“We heard about Jacen and Jaina being kidnapped,” Malinza offered.  “The HoloNet couldn’t stop talking about it.”

“You heard right,” Mara said.

Luke seemed suddenly compelled to smooth a headache out from behind his eyes.  “Oh, those kids,” he breathed, and Malinza saw the first honest indication of how much stress the recent violence had caused him.  Then he seemed to deliberately shed a few layers of decorum, becoming less Master Skywalker and more Uncle Luke.  “Okay,” he said, determined to start the story at the beginning, “you know how much I hate secrets.  Little time bombs, all of them.  That whole thing started with a Secret.”

“The Hapan princess?” Malinza guessed.  That had been on the HoloNet, too.

“The Hapan princess,” Luke agreed with an exasperated nod.  “She’s a great kid, an independent spirit in the midst of an identity crisis.  I can sympathize, but she didn’t want anyone at the praxeum to know who she really was, least of all her best friends, and I found myself obliged to play along.  So,” he said, pausing for dramatic emphasis, “where are my niece and nephew when the Second Imperium comes for them?  Not on Yavin 4 with me and a half dozen other Jedi Masters, but orbiting the gas giant on Lando Calrissian’s Gem Diver Station where I had sent them to keep them out of the way while Tenel Ka met with the Hapan ambassador.”  He rolled his eyes and sighed.  

“Look away for a minute . . .” Laera agreed primly, one parental figure to another.

“Especially true of young Solos,” Mara observed.  

“So, not only does this meeting with the ambassador not happen,” Luke continued, “but now I was blasting off on a half-baked rescue mission with the princess, not only because the New Republic was ready to sound full battle stations, but because Tenel Ka wasn’t going to take that lying down, and I have a duty of care not only to Jacen, Jaina, and Lowie, but to her.  Out of necessity I ended up teaching her a very different skill set than we usually cover, fun stuff like disguise, subterfuge, how to navigate seedy bars and handle information brokers.  And stop her from poisoning herself with questionable liquor along the way.”

“Well, we were very glad to hear you were all able to make it back safely,” Laera said, and despite her perfect manners, Malinza was sure she was silently thanking her lucky stars that she didn’t have to put up with that sort of nonsense in her own life.  

“One of life’s small miracles,” Luke said.  “Fortunately, Jacen and Jaina have been learning the art of escape since they were very young, so they made it easy for us.”  

“We heard the princess had a terrible accident.”  

“She did,” Luke admitted heavily, “and that might have been partially my fault.  With the Second Imperium suddenly gearing up, we had to accelerate our own training.  Clearly I should have prepped them all better before we jumped into lightsaber construction.  Get sloppy with the details, and accidents like that can happen.”

Speaking of the princess’ severed arm, Malinza couldn’t help glancing at Luke’s right hand.  She knew now that it was artificial, but it was so well made that it was hard to tell.  She wondered how many cybernetics she had encountered in her life without recognizing them.  

“I imagine circumstances undermined the ruse at that point.”

“Well, it’s hard to explain away a royal Hapan shuttle when it comes to take you home,” Luke agreed.  “I agreed to let her go because Tenel Ka was understandably traumatized and facing several hard truths about herself at the same time, and I thought her parents could be a positive influence.  We have history, and we all understand one another.”

Malinza crinkled her nose, remembering the rather saucy story about how Uncle Luke and Queen Mother Teneniel Djo had met on Dathomir.  He hadn’t been willing to share the details when she’d asked four years earlier, but she’d since looked it up herself.  It would probably be impolite to mention it now, especially in front of Mara.

“Come to find out her parents are away at some undisclosed location, and she’s been left to the tender mercies of her grandmother.”  Luke shrugged theatrically.  “Not to indulge in blunt and unnecessary criticism of a dignitary,” he said, obviously poised to dive in and do exactly that, “but Ta’a Chume is bad news.  She had her older son killed, a prospective daughter-in-law killed, tried to have Leia killed.  She’s hostile to Jedi, conflicted about the current Queen Mother, and not kindly disposed toward her granddaughter’s decision to train with me.  Naturally, I got concerned when she intercepted all my attempts to contact Tenel Ka from Yavin.”

“So, of course, Master Skywalker approached the difficulty with all the diplomacy and tact the situation deserved,” Mara said, sipping her tea with a saccharine smile that was somehow also sharp and sarcastic.  “Which is to say he loaded the other kids into a shuttle, pulled up to the Fountain Palace without permission or apology, dumped Lowie and the Solos with Tenel Ka, and told the murderer queen to her pretty face to take a step back.”

Malinza bit her tongue to stop herself from giggling. 

“I wasn’t going to just abandon her there in that condition,” Luke insisted, “not without any communication, and not without her parents to run interference.”

“We all know you’re a sucker for a kid in a tight spot.”

“Well, excuse me, but they’re my students, and I care about them.  At some point, all the academy kids are my kids.”  

That made Malinza smile.  It was exactly what she would have expected Uncle Luke to say.  Knowing what she did about him made the Jedi Praxeum sound more like one big home away from home rather than a boarding school or an oasis of mysticism.  It almost made her wish she had some iota of Jedi ability.  

“Of course, that also means you deliberately left your sister’s kids with a homicidal megalomaniac,” Mara observed.

“Well, maybe I’d have gone back for them sooner,” Luke countered in the same snide tone that was nonetheless all in good fun, “but someone had gotten herself arrested on charges of criminal damage and needed me to come guarantee her court appearance.  They only had to contend with two assassination attempts,” he said, brushing it off with humorous bravado.  “Just a walk in the park for those four.”

“Hey,” Malinza protested, “you can’t just say that and leave it!  What happened, Aunt Mara?”

“Nothing,” Mara insisted, holding up a finger as if to insist on a point of order.  “Nothing at all, because we were exonerated.  But, let me tell you, Malinza, there are few things more awkward than needing to call your husband to come spring you out of jail.  My friend and I had plenty of bail money, but we were short on upstanding pillars of the galactic community the local authorities were willing to trust.  One of them was sure our IDs were fake, but he had a lot less to say when Master Wonder Boy actually showed up to claim us.”

Laera didn’t venture any comment, but her eyebrows were very expressive.

“We heard about the attack on Yavin 4,” Malinza said.  It had been breaking news only a few weeks ago.  “We were really worried.  I’m surprised you were able to come so soon.”

“We thought we should probably swing by while we could,” Mara confessed, “before anything else happens.  Fortunately, the Jade Sabre makes good enough time to let us stay a few days.”

“The attack wasn’t as bad as it could have been,” Luke assured her, “although it wasn’t bloodless, and it certainly caused a lot of damage.”

“You really don’t think Emperor Palpatine was somehow behind it?”

Uncle Luke shook his head in the same tolerant and disinterested way he had during official interviews.  “I don’t think so.  I’ve had more than a few encounters with Palpatine, and I don’t have any reason to think he had anything to do with that.  Personally, I suspect an elaborate hoax of some sort, because you can’t inspire troops like that without something for them to believe in.  I think Brakiss was a true believer, at least until the end.  I didn’t sense any deep deception from him.”

“Brakiss was the master of the dark Jedi?” Malinza asked.

“Brakiss was a pathetic cheeka,” Mara insisted, crunching on an ice cube, “ever since he first showed his face at the praxeum.  He spent the better part of ten years running from Luke, talking a lot of smack until somebody gave him his own imitation academy.  When he finally forced a Master-to-Master confrontation, it only took Luke five seconds to disarm him, and then he played the ‘don’t kill me!’ card and blasted home with a jetpack.”  She sneered, disgusted.  “They left that part out of the news holos, but that’s how it happened.  Like I said, pathetic.”

Uncle Luke didn’t contradict her, but he didn’t look disgusted.  He looked sad.  Malinza couldn’t help remembering what he had just said about caring deeply about all his students, apparently even Brakiss.  And Brakiss was dead.  

“Anyway, enough about us.”  Mara leaned forward with new interest.  “Tell us about you.  How are those combat courses going?”

“Uh.”  Malinza bit her lip with some chagrin.  “They were going really well, at least until last week when I was, uh, suspended from the class.”

Luke blinked, bemused, and Mara leaned even farther forward, setting her glass down heavily.  “Okay,” she said, “what happened?”

“Well,” Malinza began, glad to have an opportunity to defend herself, “they said I wasn’t following ‘the rules.’  I was just trying to do what you said.”

“And what did I say?” Mara asked, just for clarification.

“You said not to get so caught up in the form that I neglected practical opportunities,” Malinza reminded her.  “They told me to attack my partner with the prop knife, so when he blocked I slapped him.”

A genuine laugh burst out of Uncle Luke before he could stop it.  Mara cracked a grim smile, but she was more annoyed than amused.  “They suspended you for that?” she demanded, already plotting some way to correct the outrage.  

“For that, for causing a class disturbance, and for not complying with the instructor’s direction,” Malinza explained.

“If that’s the quality of instruction you’re getting, I don’t blame you.”  Mara was still thinking, her eyes narrow and distant.  “When does this class usually meet?”

“There’s one this evening,” Malinza said.  “I’m not really disappointed.  I’d rather spend time with you anyway.”

“No, no.”  Mara wagged a finger at her, smiling again.  “I’m paying for all this, so I think I’d like to see what I’m getting.  What say we all go down there tonight and observe this intrepid instructor in action?”

“Now, Mara,” Luke interjected, jokingly patronizing, “it’s just a kid’s course.  There’s no need to go around beating up hardworking instructors to make your point.”

“I’m not going to injure anybody,” Mara insisted.  “I just want to see what they’re made of.  Trust me.”

They waited in the lobby as the class was ending, surrounded by the smells of flexiplast floors, cleaning solvent, and sweat, watching through the tempered glass as Instructor Thigo led Malinza’s peers through their continuing study of personal defense against small weapons.  It was, of course, a very basic course for children under ten, but Malinza was sure Mara wasn’t impressed.

“You may have outgrown this school,” she mused aloud.  “First we’ll see if Instructor Thigo is capable of dialing it up a notch.”

They waited until the class was over, when all the other students filed out to join their parents.  Instructor Thigo was having a few last words with his assistants when Mara slipped inside, Luke and Malinza behind her.

“Instructor Thigo, good evening!” Mara began pleasantly, extending her hand.  “Mara and Luke Skywalker, Malinza’s sponsor parents.  We came to see her progress, and heard there had been some trouble, so I wonder if you wouldn’t mind explaining exactly what happened.”

“Not at all, Madame Skywalker.”  Instructor Thigo was all politeness, but Malinza caught a quick scowl when he glanced at her.  “Malinza is a gifted student, but recently I’m afraid she’s been a disruption to the class, showing increasing disregard for the rules of engagement.”

Mara looked performatively concerned.  “And what are the rules of engagement?”

“We ask that all students follow the order of the lesson as presented without creative embellishments,” he explained.

“But surely there’s some value in the students discovering weak points in one another’s defense and sharing solutions.”

Instructor Thigo shook his head.  “Maybe in the real world, but if we allowed that here, every class would be chaotic.”

“I see.”  Mara nodded, her polite veneer slipping a bit.  “Of course, you’re free to run your class however you like, but we live in the real world, and that makes me wonder if Malinza might not have already learned everything she can here.  Alternatively, one would hope these rules of engagement aren’t in place to disguise shortcomings in the instructor.”

Malinza hissed under her breath, recognizing a challenge when she heard one.  

Instructor Thigo recognized it, too, and his smile became brittle.  “I am more than happy to give you a demonstration of the skills we teach here, madame,” he said.  “If you would just step this way.”

He handed Mara a prop knife, and she took it, standing stiffly as though she had never handled such a thing before.  “Now,” he said, “you attack me, and I’ll demonstrate—”  He twisted away as Mara lazily jabbed at his belly.  “No, no,” he corrected her, “up here, toward my face.  Now, you thrust at me, and I intercept with a forearm block like this,” he said, catching her slow attack at the wrist and twisting beneath her arm.  “And then—ow!" he yelped as Mara prodded his exposed back with the blade.  "No, no, no!”  

Malinza was afraid to smile just yet, but she could see how Mara was making her point.

“I get the idea,” Mara said.  “Show me something else.”

Instructor Thigo looked narrowly at her now, but obliged.  “All right.  Something else we practice is attacking with and defending against common household implements, like this.”  He selected a metal spatula from the bin.  He handed it to Mara, albeit more cautiously.  They exchanged a few stylized blows, quicker than before, but Mara easily reached past his defense with the flat of the utensil and smacked him in the face, following with a sharp swat to the hindquarters while he was disoriented.

Luke had a hand in front of his mouth, trying to look thoughtful, but was silently shaking with laughter.

“No.  No.”  Instructor Thigo was flustered now.  “Give me that.  I’ll attack, and you defend.”

“If you like,” Mara agreed.  

She blocked his first thrust in classic form, but then casually reached past it and slapped him with her bare hand, following with a solid cuff to the back of the head.

Malinza’s mouth was hanging open now, still afraid to laugh, both mortified and elated.  She had never felt so vindicated.

“I see what you mean,” Mara said, taking the spatula and tossing it back into the bin.  “What we’re looking for is a more real world approach, so I think we’re in agreement that Malinza isn’t a good fit for your school.  We’ll be removing her immediately.  Show me what I have to sign.”

Lol.  Legit Self Defense Skills

Chapter Text

24 ABY, Salis D’aar, Bakura

“And then she started playing so fast that she accidentally jammed her arco into my fancy hair, the tip got caught and pulled me out of my chair, I fell over her, she pulled down the whole backdrop, and the rehearsal was ruined.”

Malinza was glad the story made them smile.  Luke and Mara had made an effort to call more frequently in recent months, and she knew it was because they felt guilty about not coming to Bakura in person.  For once it wasn’t a matter of war or business.  This time it was potentially much more serious.

“Well, memories were made, even if no music,” Mara observed, but humor couldn’t mask how worn she looked.  “I don’t suppose there are any holos of the incident?”

“I think somebody recorded the whole thing,” Malinza said.  “It’s been going around the dataforum at school.  I’ll see if I can copy it for you.”

“Only if you have time,” Luke insisted.  “We know you already have a punishing schedule.”   

Malinza wanted to protest that she didn’t care about her schedule or hilarious orchestra hijinks, that she was worried about them, wanted to be with them, and would do anything she possibly could to help.  Her sinking premonition was that there was nothing she could ever do to help.  She was too small, and it was too far away.

Mara’s eyes fluttered closed, and she slumped as if she were falling asleep right there at the table.  Luke reached and caught her, and that snapped her back.  “Wow,” she said, blinking and straightening herself.  “Sorry, Malinza, but I think I have to crash.  Don’t shut down on my account, though.  Stay and talk to Luke.”

“Are you going to be all right?”   Luke quietly demanded, torn between staying and escorting Mara to bed.  His concern was obvious.

“I can make it, don’t worry,” Mara assured him.  “Love you, girl.”

“Love you, too, Aunt Mara,” Malinza said, hoping she sounded more positive than she felt.  “Sleep well.”

Luke leaned back to watch her go until he was satisfied that she wasn’t going to collapse on the way.  Malinza could feel the heaviness in the room from halfway across the galaxy.

“I don’t mind if you have to go,” she said, feeling awkward.  “I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“No, no,” Luke countered, giving her his undivided attention again.  “Mara would skin me alive if I shut you down just to moon over her.  Somehow she’d find the energy.”

The humor fell flat between them.  

“Do we know any more about it?” Malinza asked, finally brave enough to broach the subject now that they were alone.

“No,” Luke admitted.  “Just that she caught whatever-it-is on that trip to Monor II.  Nobody can tell us what it is, what an effective treatment might be, or even guess at a prognosis.  Honestly, it doesn’t look good.  Everyone else at the ceremony came down with the same thing, and they’re all dead.”

All dead.  It was hard to be hopeful when they were already living on thin miracles.  “Aunt Mara’s tough,” Malinza said instead.  “She’ll pull through if anyone can.”

Uncle Luke smiled, grateful, but still a realist.  “I’m sure you’re right, kiddo.”

It was killing her to see how worried he was.  Luke and Mara had been so happy together, and now all that was stifled by a looming sense of dread.  Malinza didn’t mention her private observation that it had been five whole years since the wedding, and still there were no baby Skywalkers.  They never talked about it, and now the possibility seemed even less likely.  She was deeply sorry that the idea had ever piqued her jealousy.  

“I wish you could come,” she said instead.  “I wish we could really spend some time together.”

“I know,” Luke agreed, “but until we understand this better, Mara doesn’t want to risk infecting you.  And she’d never admit it, but socializing really takes it out of her these days.”

“Maybe I could come to you,” Malinza reasoned, flailing for some acceptable compromise, “after we know it’s not contagious, I mean.  Maybe Laera and I can visit Coruscant.”

“I don’t think Laera wants to visit Coruscant,” Luke reminded her, “and you can’t just go missing from school for no reason.”

No reason?  “But Mara might be—!”

Luke made a hard face and a sharp gesture, forbidding her to voice that possibility.  “Never act out of fear,” he said.  “It’s an easy way to make life-altering mistakes.  Each of us still has a job to do.  My job is to stay here and be a Jedi Master, whatever might be going on at home.  Mara’s job is to rest and get well, and your job is to stay on Bakura and get an education.  We can’t forget that just because it’s inconvenient.”

Rebuked, Malinza couldn’t quite wipe the sulk off her face.  This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.  Things were supposed to be better.  Was this the Cosmic Balance snapping back?  

As she got older, Malinza was trying to decide what she believed about the universe.  She had started secretly wearing her mother’s black and white Balance pendant, tucking it into her clothes.  She was still conflicted, particularly about the Jedi and what their role in the Balance might be.  There was no question that Uncle Luke was a genuinely good person, and that he spent his life doing good work, often heroically, but he did seem to get kicked by the Balance an awful lot.  One person wielding so much power was fundamentally unbalanced, but why would he have the ability if he wasn’t supposed to use it?  Would it even be moral for him to not use it?  Was his existence balancing some deficiency somewhere else in the galaxy?  Would the universe really take Mara from him after only five years?

“If you say so,” she said instead, keeping her other thoughts to herself.  There wasn’t any point in making herself even more of a burden, especially not now.  If the best way she could help was to stay where she was and live her life, she supposed she could do that.

“If I ever change my mind, you’ll be one of the first to know.”  

Malinza sighed.  “Okay.”  

It was that helpless feeling again, the same that had been lurking in the back of her consciousness since almost before she could remember, the suspicion that she was too small, to unimportant, and too far away from anything that mattered to make any difference, that she could scream with all her strength and no one would hear or notice her.  Except Uncle Luke.  He had always been able to see her, even when she seemed invisible to everyone else, and she loved him for that.  Their constant but often distant relationship was like a single gossamer thread binding her to a larger family, to the realities of life beyond Bakura, to a sense of purpose and destiny.  How could she tell him that?  How could she make him understand that she was desperately afraid of losing that?

She didn’t think Luke could actually read her mind, but he seemed to be able to tell whenever she was spiraling into her own thoughts.  He probably didn’t have much energy or attention to spare, but he looked at her in that gentle and searching way that always helped her remember the principles he had taught her.  She paused to breathe.  

Don’t waste today.  Patience makes life easier.  Everyone's time comes.  Bear miseries with dignity.  Everyone has a part to play no matter how small.   

Malinza realized, of course, that she was only ten years old, but she couldn’t help wishing her time would come sooner rather than later.  The suspense was terrible.  

Uncle Luke smiled.  “You’re reminding me of Jaina,” he said.

“Oh, so she’s needy and pitiful, too?” Malinza asked, venting her frustration in spite of herself.

“She’s very brave, compassionate, smart, restless, and impatient,” Luke insisted, his tone and the tilt of his brow scolding her for her negativity.  “She’s been formally apprenticed to Mara, because Mara thinks she can handle her better than I can.  You two would get along like a speeder on fire.”

“Bring her with you sometime.”  Malinza made a conscious effort to smile, choosing not to complain about the emptiness the thought of Luke’s family caused in her.  She couldn’t exactly fault them for forgetting her when they didn’t know her.  She wanted to know them, but overtures had never been made.  It only contributed to that feeling of invisibility and isolation.  

“Maybe we will.  Those kids could use a vacation.”

“Seems to me they aren’t the only ones.”  Malinza had to bite her tongue to hold back tears of worry and self-pity.  It had been another year since she had last been in the same room with them, and now it didn’t look like they would be coming back anytime soon.  She missed them, and she wanted a hug, one of those big ones that made everything better.  It didn’t seem like a lot for a kid to ask.  Nonetheless, that grown-up part of her mind realized it was indeed a lot to ask under the circumstances.  Luke wanted to be there for her, but he couldn’t just leave his work, his students, or his dying wife, and he especially didn’t deserve to be guilted for that.  She wouldn’t do that to him.    

They talked for another half an hour, neither of them wanting to be the first to end the call, until Luke finally admitted that he had to check on Mara and get to bed.  He told her again how sorry he was that they couldn’t make it out to Bakura that year, Malinza assured him that she understood and wished them well.  

Uncle Luke seemed to recognize how much courage she needed to say that, and for a moment he looked as desolate as she felt.  “I love you, kiddo,” he said.  “Don’t grow up too fast.”

Malinza just smiled and waved goodbye before the hololink was broken, suddenly unable to speak around the lump in her throat.  He always said that before he left, before circumstances dragged him away from her again.  She was deeply disappointed that she couldn’t see them, worried about Mara, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about any of it.  

She was contemplating disappearing into her room for a good cry when Laera knocked on the open door.  Her guardian offered her a sympathetic smile and a small package.  “Look what came for you,” she said.

Malinza eagerly took it up to her room, not needing the printed confirmation that it came from JM L. SKYWALKER, JEDI PRAXEUM, YAVIN 4 as she tore it open.  Inside was a second sealed pouch labeled in Uncle Luke’s familiar block-printed handwriting: RYLOTH.

It was a little chunk of gray stone mottled with brown, and it did lift her spirits even though she still wanted to cry.  The New Republic’s recent offensive against the Diversity Alliance had taken Master Skywalker to Ryloth, and it made her feel much less invisible and insignificant to know that he had taken the trouble to pick up a rock, put it in his pocket, and carry it through the battle for her.  He, at least, thought she was significant, and that was saying something.  

She retrieved the rest of her collection, hidden away inside that purple wedding favor box.  The silver lettering on the top had partially rubbed off over time, which was unfortunate, but Malinza suspected she had already kept it several years longer than the maker had ever intended.  If Uncle Luke sent her any more rocks, she’d have to find something bigger to keep them in.  

She laid them out on her bed in order, as she often did when she needed a moment of calm.  Selonia, Yavin 4, Coruscant, Tatooine, Dathomir, and Ryloth, each one representing a different world, bits of minerals that had been completely unrelated since the explosive dawn of the galaxy, now quietly gathered side by side in her bedroom.  Malinza didn’t think she would be able to properly appreciate them until she was able to travel.  It was hard to fathom the number and variety of habitable planets when she had never broken the atmosphere on her own homeworld.  

She would make out there someday.  

Don’t waste today.  Patience makes life easier.  Everyone's time comes.  Bear miseries with dignity . . .

Someday.

Chapter Text

26 ABY, Salis D’aar, Bakura

“Hey, ‘Linza!”

She didn’t look up right away, just continued to sip her tea and hope Errick would take his obnoxious commentary somewhere else.  She already had a headache after skipping lunch, worsened by the ambient roar in the cafeteria, and she still had all her most challenging classes ahead of her before dismissal.  She didn’t need his moronic, warmed-over political opinions right now.

Unfortunately, her disinterest only seemed to encourage him, and he had his pathetic friends in tow.  “Malinza!  Yeah.  Saw your rich sponsor daddy getting dragged by the Senate.  Is he going to do anything about the Vong, or just sulk on Coruscant until it’s all over?”

It wasn’t worth it.  It wasn’t worth it.  It wasn’t worth it.  

“He’s not rich,” Malinza protested with a quiet sneer, in spite of herself.  It was all so juvenile.  “And he isn’t sulking.  He’s fighting the war as well as anyone can.”

“Not a ringing endorsement, if you ask me.  What are the Jedi good for if they can’t even turn an alien invasion?”

Malinza got up from the table and headed for the drain beside the trash bins to pour the dregs out of her cup.  Like many thirteen-year-olds, Errick was old enough to follow current events, but too young to realize he had no original thoughts of his own.  Malinza considered what she had been told by those who knew—about the Yuuzhan Vong being somehow outside the Force, about the difficulties they were having trying to adapt current weapons and tactics to the peculiarities of this new alien technology—and she decided she didn’t have the energy to disabuse him at the moment.  “It’s complicated,” she sighed.

“No, it isn’t,” Errick insisted.  “If Skywalker can’t do the job, he should just admit it.”

“And do what?”  Malinza rounded on him, her arms spread in exasperation.  She hadn’t noticed before just what a punchable face Errick had.  She heard her blood pounding in her ears, and knew she was getting angrier than she should.  People were starting to linger, noticing the fight.  “What do you want, miracles?  They’re doing everything they can.  Why are you so bothered, anyway?  Bakura isn’t anywhere near the invasion corridor.”

“They’ve come halfway across the galaxy in a year,” Errick said, pressing the confrontation.  “We’re all in the invasion corridor.  If the Jedi can’t stop it, then they should have the decency to stand down and take the Warmaster up on his offer.”

The casual way he dismissed her sponsor parents and the entire Jedi Order as no more than a meat ransom was insufferable, and worse was the knowledge that Errick wasn’t alone in that sentiment.  People were scared, and the Vong Warmaster had named his price.  The Jedi in exchange for peace.

After everything Uncle Luke has done, everything he’s given to the New Republic, all the blood, sweat, and tears wrung out of him and his family, this is the thanks they could expect?   She had seen the pain in his eyes, heard the battle fatigue in his voice, the raw grief as they mourned the deaths of friends and the ruin of whole worlds knowing there may be worse to come.  And there were people holding positions of power within the New Republic who were seriously contemplating rounding them up to be slaughtered like animals.  It was unreal, and yet it was happening.

Her extremities were tingling now, her vision clouded by an anxious and irrational rage.  “I know you didn’t just suggest throwing Master Skywalker to the Peace Brigade,” Malinza said, taking a menacing step forward, only dimly aware that her flimsi cup was crushed in her fist.  “Say it again!”

“Isn’t that what Jedi are all about?” Errick smirked.  “Sacrifice?”

Malinza erased that smirk with a snap punch to his teeth, an elbow to the side of his head, and a knee to his face.

That was how she found herself aimlessly wandering the cold midday streets of Salis D’aar, banned from school grounds for two weeks.  She was supposed to call her guardian to pick her up, but she had slipped out an unsecured door and left on foot.  She wanted some time alone, and didn’t really want to explain things to Laera yet.

Malinza pulled up the hood of her coat against the chill, and shifted the weight of her school bag on her shoulder.  Not so long ago, she would have never imagined herself in this position.  She had been working all her life to earn her standing as an overachiever, an exceptional student, an accomplished musician, and now she was just another delinquent, suspended from school for fighting.  Laera would be mortified.  Deep down, Malinza was mortified, but she swallowed her pride and accepted her fate.  She had risen to the challenge of the moment with decisive action, and the consequences had knocked her back almost immediately.  Balance.  It was to be expected.

Maybe the fight hadn’t been worth it, but thinking about it was so very satisfying.  Laera would be disappointed in her, Uncle Luke would be sorry she had put herself in harm’s way on his account, but Malinza was pretty sure Aunt Mara would be proud.  She had been training years for this kind of thing too.  She couldn’t regret it.

She knew where she could have a few hours of peace.  Malinza walked through some of the most affluent neighborhoods in the city, down manicured streets that had once been so familiar.  The clouds overhead only grew thicker and darker as the afternoon wore on, and she began to wonder if she would be rained on before she made it home.  Maybe that would also somehow serve the Balance.  

She finally arrived at her family home where she had lived with her parents until they had died, until Uncle Luke had arranged for her to live with Aunt Laera.  Fortunately, Laera had been able to keep the house for her, locked and regularly maintained, waiting until Malinza was old enough to take possession.  She didn’t have her passkey on her at that moment, but those classes Aunt Mara had put her through had taught her more than how to break noses.  Malinza walked around the side of the house, flung her bag over the garden wall, scaled a nearby tree and dropped inside.

Her mother’s gardens were cold and dormant, sleeping through the short winter.  It gave the place a melancholy, half-dead, not-quite-abandoned look, tended with professional efficiency but without love.  Malinza went and sat on the stone bench beside the monument that was her father’s grave and her mother’s memorial.  Time didn’t matter there.

She stuffed her hands deep into her pockets and just filled her ears with the frozen silence.  She wondered what her mother would make of all this, what sort of advice she might give her.  The Captisons had always had a very dutiful approach to the Cosmic Balance, though some would call it harsh.  One daughter had been destined for excellence, the other only for penance.  Gaeriel had been given the white feather, a life of higher education and privilege, while Ylanda had received the empty golden bowl, starvation, poverty, and anonymity.  The Balance had to be preserved.  

Malinza knew she was being groomed for excellence, but she didn’t have a sister to offset that.  Neither Luke nor Laera believed in the Balance, and so hadn’t made any provision for it.  Maybe she had to own both the feather and the bowl in her own life.  

She had taken up voluntary fasting whenever she was away from home, trying to appease the Balance in her own way.  With the whole galaxy crumbling around them, she felt helpless to do anything else.  She hadn’t admitted as much to anyone, but Malinza secretly hoped the universe might also accept the gesture on behalf of Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara, a sort of proactive atonement for their excesses as Jedi.  It was a desperate and maybe vain attempt to mitigate the repercussions they were facing.  She had lost some weight, becoming thin rather than slender.  Laera was worried, but hadn’t confronted her yet.  Uncle Luke would be horrified.  She couldn’t blame them for not being able to understand, but Uncle Luke had been right—secrets could make someone very lonely.

Despite that, Malinza had been encouraged by the news that Mara’s mysterious disease had finally been forced into remission.  No one wanted to say she was cured yet, but whatever treatment they had found seemed to be working.  That was itself a huge relief, and Malinza dared to hope the Balance had been righted in some small way.  It certainly did nothing to discourage her from her secret penances.  

The war was too volatile to allow them to visit, but Luke and Mara did try to call with some regularity, at least when they were on Coruscant.  Unfortunately, it was sometimes difficult to get their schedules to align, and they often missed each other.  Calling them directly was almost always pointless, so it was a waiting game.

Malinza missed them painfully, and yet they only seemed to be pulled farther and farther away.  It had been over two years now since they had last visited, and conditions didn’t look any more favorable in the near future.  Now that Mara seemed to have her health back, she would be going back to the war with Luke, and there was no telling what might happen.  Jedi seemed to be on everybody’s hit list lately.  Malinza didn’t like to think they might both be killed before she could see them again, but the possibility haunted her.  Sometimes she envied the young Solos, Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin, just barely old enough to throw themselves into the war effort with the rest of their family.  Laera said it was barbaric to allow children to fight, and maybe it was, but sometimes it seemed better than sitting helpless at home.  How was she supposed to fuss over exams with all this going on?

Speaking of home, Malinza realized she had better head in that direction before the gathering storm broke.  She pulled off her glove and touched her parents’ gravestone before she left, just another reminder of what the Balance had already required of her.

Of what the New Republic had already required of her.

Now that she was old enough to understand the history, Malinza was deeply resentful of the cavalier way the New Republic seemed to use Bakura, when that government seemed to notice them at all.  She didn’t blame Uncle Luke for playing his part; he had been used just as callously as the Bakuran fleet had been used, just another asset, a useful pawn.  No one seemed to care how much it had hurt him, how much it had hurt Malinza and those thousands of Bakuran families mourning lost loved ones.  That was just the price of victory, the dues owed for membership in the glorious New Republic.  

It was childish to mourn lost possibilities, but she had often imagined how different things could have been.  Malinza was happy with Laera, and Uncle Luke was obviously devoted to Mara, but what if her mother had survived that battle over Selonia?  What if Luke and Gaeriel had been allowed more time to become reacquainted after those fifteen years apart?  They might have been happy together.  Malinza privately treasured the fantasy that he might have been a proper father to her, that they might have made a proper family.  They might have been together through all this.  

But instead Gaeriel Thanas had been reduced to atoms drifting through the Corellian system, and Malinza was left hanging on the forlorn hope of a holocall now and then.  That was just the way the pendulum had swung.  The Balance would not be ignored, but she was resolved to be well out of the way the next time it began swinging.  

It was pouring icy rain by the time she made it home.  Laera made a fuss, lectured her about her performance at school, how disappointed and angry and worried she was, but had to cut it short to shuffle her upstairs for a hot shower.  

They ate dinner in awkward silence.  Malinza certainly didn’t feel like talking, but she was careful to eat everything on her plate while Laera was watching.  She was pretty sure her guardian already suspected her of having an eating disorder, and that was just more drama they didn’t need.  If it became any more obvious, there would definitely be a call made to Uncle Luke, and that would be even worse.  

Still lonely and listless into the evening, Malinza curled up on her bed with her datapad in the dark, unable to muster enough enthusiasm to care about her ongoing school projects.  There were no missed calls at the holoport, which was no surprise, though she had checked anyway.  Without any other recourse, she keyed a datasearch through the public Bakuran news archives, looking for some recent proof that her sponsor parents were still alive.  She fell into some archived holos of the administration on Coruscant at work, not breaking news but not too out of date, recorded only a couple months ago.  

The juiciest bit seemed to have been leaked without authorization, the substance lost in the furor over who might have clipped it and blasted it to the journos.  It looked like part of a secure meeting of the Advisory Council with Chief Fey’lya, and Luke and Mara were in the hot seats.  The controversy swirling around the Jedi was so volatile, Malinza wasn’t surprised that someone was willing to risk being well paid for exclusive information.  What wasn’t clear was whether the clip was supposed to be damaging to the Jedi or to the government.  

A surly Sullustian admiral was speaking.  “I suppose Jedi Corran Horn has returned to his usual heroics as well, by now.”

The elder Master Skywalker shook his head, his expression flat and serious.  “Corran is still in seclusion on Corellia.”

Malinza was glad Mara was there beside him, looking fit as ever.  They were formidable together, but Malinza knew they were leaning heavily on each other behind closed doors.  They presented a united front, calm but not relaxed, keeping silent unless the Council questioned them directly.  It was obviously more an interrogation than a consultation.

A Quarren councilor finally brought the conversation back around to them when he was invited to speak.  “Master Skywalker, I’m glad that the topic of Jedi Horn and Jedi Durron was raised.  Unless you can exercise a greater measure of control over the Jedi, you must prepare for a new round of persecution.”

It was so brazen.  Malinza glowered at the screen.  So this was what went on in those exalted halls of power, the policies of an entire government decided by nitwits no brighter than Errick.  

Luke listened, but said nothing.  Malinza wondered if he had been thinking essentially the same thing.

“Your nephews allowed Sal-Solo to fire the Centerpoint weapon.  True?”

Ugh, Centerpoint.  Corellia.  It was like a recurring nightmare.

“Yes,” Luke said.  “At the New Republic’s request.”

That was always the game, wasn’t it?  Do the job they give you only to have them roll it up and hang it around your neck if it went wrong.  

“We are disturbed,” the Quarren continued.  “Jedi and other vigilante groups are becoming increasingly active.  Justice must be meted out under the rule of law, not by petty tyrants in X-wing fighters.”

“There was a time,” another man said, “when the presence of twenty Jedi on Coruscant might have seemed like a guarantee of our safety.  Now, it seems that you head an order of twenty vigilantes and eighty do-nothings.”

“Master Skywalker, apologies,” someone else was quick to hedge.  “But you see how controversial the Jedi have become.”

“Master Skywalker,” the other parrotted with a sneer, turning the rank into an insult, “it is increasingly obvious that the Jedi choose to help some peoples, but not others.  Why?”

That pricked a nerve.  Luke sat straighter and shook his head again.  “Jedi are responsible to the Force, not to me.  I’ve tried to coordinate them.  I’ve tried,” he said with a pointed look, “to reestablish some semblance of organization.  But there are people who feel that if we were better organized, we’d be a danger to the New Republic.”

Sneering out of both sides of their mouths, as usual.  

“Can you blame them?  We are determined to keep the Jedi and their quaint philosophy separate from this government.”

“To the extent of refusing to sanction us, Councilor?  Of threatening persecution?”   Uncle Luke had clearly had enough.

“Your agents misinformed us concerning the dangers to Corellia and Fondor,” Chief Fey’lya insisted.  “That failure contributed gravely to the Centerpoint catastrophe.”

“The Yuuzhan Vong planted misinformation by altering the Hutts’ shipping patterns,” Luke explained, unintimidated.  Mara was letting him speak, though she was clearly primed for war.  “We won’t be fooled next time.  And we won’t be able to observe Hutt smuggling behavior anytime soon.”

The Council, it seemed, had nothing to say.

“When peace and justice are threatened,” Luke went on, seizing the opportunity, “our mandate to rescue becomes a mandate to defend whole worlds.  It’s true that some Jedi have used that mandate to rationalize extreme behavior.  Despite what some of you think, I’ve done my best to correct them.  Their freedom to make choices means they are free to make wrong ones.”

“Hear, hear,” said some allied soul down the table.

“It’s never easy to use power,” Luke said, speaking directly to that most disagreeable councilor opposite him.  “You’ve all dealt with that problem, and with the ethics of spending other beings’ lives in battle.”

“That is why governments have high councils,” that one observed, as though he were speaking to a child.  “To check powerful individuals.”

“And this body, Councilor Rodan,” Luke pressed, sharper than before, “certainly has chosen to defend some systems at the expense of others.”   

The accusation needed no explanation, and it silenced the room.  Councilor Rodan represented Commenor, and Commenor had been one of a handful of planets to somehow benefit from a very robust allocation of the New Republic’s resources.  

Malinza smiled.  Checkmate, Councilor.

Luke leaned forward onto the table.  “Some Jedi have stepped back from using the Force almost entirely, for fear of misusing it.  My nephew, Jacen, for one.  The Jedi are scattered.  They’re my commitment.  We’re all answerable to you—”

“Is that so?” quipped a Rodian under his breath.

“Yes,” Luke insisted, turning toward him, “it is.  For as long as this body represents peace and justice.”

Maybe not for long, Malinza thought.  Not with this crowd at the helm.

The Rodian leaned forward as well.  “My homeworld is about to suffer the most terrible depredations—”

“And mine is probably next,” Luke countered.

Checkmate again.

The Rodian shrank resentfully.  “That is not my concern.”

“All worlds,” Master Skywalker insisted, “are my concern.”

A commentator picked up where the recording left off, prattling on about the possible validity of the accusation that favoritism was directing the New Republic’s defensive priorities, and summarizing the investigation currently tearing apart Chief Fey’lya’s staff in search of the perpetrator of the leak.  Malinza really wasn’t interested in the details.  She was tired and discouraged, and when she finally looked up she realized it was well after bedtime.  Laera had left her to herself rather than exacerbate the tension.  No doubt there would be a conversation in the morning.

On a whim, Malinza looked up the local time at City Center on Coruscant.  It was early morning, a few hours before dawn.  Ordinarily, she would have never dared call at that hour, but it was a fact that Jedi didn’t always keep regular hours, and Malinza was just lonely enough to try.  After all, they wouldn’t have given her the link to their personal quarters if they didn’t want her to use it.

She crept through the darkness downstairs to the holoport and powered it up, volume low.  She selected the code, already a familiar sequence, and waited while the relays established the connection.  Her heart thumped a tick faster when the ready tone sounded, pulsing at one-second intervals, until it finally timed out after one minute.  

CONNECTION UNACCEPTED.

Malinza sighed.  She didn’t know why she had expected anything different.  She never managed to catch them at home without arranging it ahead of time.  Maybe they weren’t back on Coruscant yet.  They were busy people, and her behavioral indiscretions certainly weren't among their most urgent priorities right now.  She wasn’t an urgent priority right now, and it wasn’t even their fault.

She was getting up to go to bed, trying not to feel invisible and unloved, when the holoport flared to life again, the ready tone sounding from the other direction.  Malinza lurched back into the chair and slapped open the connection with an anxious thrill, hoping the fuss wouldn’t wake Laera.

“Hey, kiddo,” Luke said.  He offered her a smile, but the room was dark, and he was still blinking.  His hair was flat on one side, mussed on the other, and he had clearly been dead asleep just a minute ago.  “Sorry, it’s been a while.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Malinza apologized, a little annoyed with herself.

Uncle Luke waved it off.  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, keeping his voice low, presumably in an effort not to wake Mara.   “Artoo was supposed to get me up in a few minutes anyway.  What’s on your mind?”

So many things, but she didn’t want to talk about any of it.  “I just really miss you both,” she said, afraid she might cry.  “I know you can’t come out right now, but I wish you could.”

“Believe me,” Luke admitted, “there’s nothing I’d rather do than go spend a week doing nothing with you.  At least, I hope you aren’t doing anything too exciting.  Still no signs of invasion in that sector?  I haven’t heard anything to the contrary.”

“Not that I’ve seen.”

“Good.  Just keep your eyes open.  I worry about you out there.”

Malinza almost laughed at the absurdity of Uncle Luke being worried about her just living life in Salis D’aar while he was barely surviving in the thick of the madness.  “I’m sure you already have enough to worry about,” she said.  “We’re worried about all of you.  We heard what happened at Duro.  Do you think Leia will recover?”

“I think so,” he said, sobering.  “I hope so.  It was pretty bad, but if I know her, she’ll pull through.  Han’s back with her now, so that helps.”

Being personally mangled by Warmaster Tsavong Lah wasn’t anything to sneeze at, but Malinza suspected he was right.  Leia Organa Solo was in her own way every bit as tough as Mara Skywalker.  

“But don’t change the subject,” Luke admonished her gently.  “You don’t call someone at the druk-crack of dawn because nothing’s bothering you.  Tell me.”

As Malinza cast about in her mind for someplace to start, she felt that lump growing in her throat again.  The war, the Balance, her parents, their separation, fear, uncertainty, anxiety.  Gnarly questions about the nature of the universe, the conflict between her beliefs and her loves, the normal trials of adolescence.  All of it was gnawing at her at the same time, and she didn’t know what to say, so of course she dissolved into tears rather than say anything.  

It was so stupid.  Holocalls between the Core and the edge of Wild Space weren’t cheap, and here she was, burning airtime crying.  Uncle Luke didn’t say anything, didn’t demand that she buck up or get a hold of herself, but just sat with her in the moment despite the distance.  He was hunched over his crossed arms on the table when she finally wiped her eyes clear, waiting with patient sympathy.  Then he closed his eyes, and Malinza wondered if her distress was making him emotional, too.  But after a long minute or two, she felt a sudden wave of calm roll over her, enough to take her breath for a moment.  It felt like he was there and had cupped her face in his hand.

The corner of his mouth pulled into a smile, but he didn’t open his eyes yet.  “Found you,” he said, quietly triumphant, and Malinza realized some part of him was there with her.  She didn’t know what the typical range of an average Jedi’s influence was supposed to be, but reaching across that distance with such precision was impressive.  The lines around his eyes betrayed that it was no mean feat for even Luke Skywalker, and he didn’t try to maintain it.  The ephemeral touch faded, but it left her with a clearer head.  “Now,” he said, “let’s try that again.”   

Malinza cleared her throat and wiped her eyes, ready to face it.  “I’m scared,” she admitted, distilling the whole mess to the deepest truth.  

Uncle Luke nodded.  “I’m scared, too,” he admitted.  “No shame in that.  There’s a lot happening right now.  And you’re trying to grow up and figure out who you are at the same time.”

“I’m just not sure what to think about anything,” Malinza said, “what to do, how to feel.”

Uncle Luke frowned.  “There is no right or wrong way to feel,” he said.  “It’s what you do about it that matters.”

“I just don’t know where I’m supposed to fit,” she continued, trying to explain that strange and unsettled feeling she had been living with.  “I don’t completely fit with you—with you and Mara and the other Jedi—but now I don’t really fit here either.  Bakura is supposed to be home, but it doesn’t feel like home, or at least not the way I think home should feel.”  She bit her lip.  “I wish I’d known Daddy better.  He managed to make a home here despite not being a native.”

Uncle Luke rolled his eyes with a wry smile.  “He probably could have given some good advice on that score,” he agreed.  “But I have to say, this all sounds very familiar.  I recall wanting to escape a world I couldn’t stand but that was all I’d ever known, pining for a father I couldn’t remember.  And sometimes your definition of home just needs to adapt.”

“I’m not saying I’m desperate to leave,” Malinza qualified, “just that I might not want to stay here forever.  Maybe I’d be more settled if everyone I cared about was here, too.”

His smile turned bittersweet.  “I’d be there if I could,” he said.  “I want to be there, with you.  I miss you, too, you know.”

It was a pang, not of sadness, but of understanding.  Part of getting older was realizing that adults still had the same feelings children did, but had simply acquired more discipline.  Luke didn’t want to leave her any more than Malinza wanted him to leave, but each time he did he had to put his own feelings aside to be strong for her, to show her how to do what they had to do.  He was always teaching by example like that, and she had internalized some of her most valuable life lessons by watching him.  Luke’s whole life seemed like a forty-year sequence of just knuckling down and doing what he had to do.  Maybe that was a lesson too.  The fortitude to let go of another person when every instinct told her to grasp was something she had to learn.  

“I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you in so many words,” Malinza said, “for being there when I needed you.  You didn’t have to.  I can’t imagine it was easy to step up and suddenly be a father to a kid you barely knew.”

Luke accepted her gratitude with a gentle smile.  “It wasn’t entirely unselfish on my part,” he admitted, more candidly than he had before.  “I hadn’t realized how much I wanted a daughter until we were thrown together, and you gave me purpose at a very low point in my life.  I think we needed each other, so thank you for being so receptive.”

“Oh, anytime,” Malinza assured him, grateful they could talk about their deepest emotions and still joke about them.  “I’m always happy to cry on you at a moment’s notice.”

“You were able to remind me that life is never so dark that there isn’t some reason to keep fighting through it.  It’s just the way our brains are wired that makes that something most often someone.”

“We could all use someone like that right about now,” Malinza sighed, slouching with her chin in her hand.  The Vong could suck the will to live out of people better than most.  “Any fresh-faced inspiration for us this time?”

To her surprise, Luke sat up with a new glint in his eye, but then he seemed to think better of what he was going to say, and sat back again.  He glanced over his shoulder, then back at the screen, narrowed his eyes, and smiled.  “Kriff it,” he decided.  “I’m supposed to keep the secret a while longer, but you’re here now, and I want to tell you.  So, just between us,” he said, almost whispering, “Mara’s expecting.”

Malinza felt every care and worry lift away for one glorious moment, and she had to bite her tongue to keep quiet.  “No!  Really?”  She slapped both hands over her mouth and squealed anyway.  “That’s amazing!  Congratulations!”  Then the implications crossed her mind.  “Wait, no, that really is amazing.  Poor Mara must be at least forty-two by now.”

“Forty-three,” Luke admitted with a slight grimace.  “It’s a lot to ask, but it’s not impossible, and so far so good.”

Baby Skywalker at last!  “You must be so excited.”

He nodded.  “It’s wonderful, incredible, and terrifying.  Especially right now.  But everything in its own time, I guess.”

“I suppose I’ll have to get used to losing my ‘special girl’ status,” Malinza joked, although the thought did prick her a bit.  

Luke frowned, but in a benevolently patronizing way.  “Never,” he insisted.  “Your status is set in permacrete.  Besides, Mara’s convinced it’s a boy, so no need to worry.” 

“When?” Malinza couldn’t help asking.  “How long?”

“Well, if you saw that silly clip of our meeting with the Advisory Council that’s been going around,” he said, “we realized it right after that.  We’re about three months in now, so I guess we’ll have to make some announcement before long.  Until then, you’ll just have to be in on the secret with us.”

“I’ll do my best,” Malinza promised.  “But start telling people soon!  Reena and I have been wanting an excuse to throw a party for a while.”

“Send us holos.”

“Only if you send us holos.  We’re practically family.  You can’t make us wait until his big debut.”

“Well, hold on . . .”   Luke rummaged out his datapad, flicked it on and tapped through some files.  “Here.”   He increased the magnification on a medical holo and held it up to the receiver on his end.  “Will this do?”

Malinza knew just enough about anatomy to interpret what she was looking at, saw his little heart beating and his little legs working.  “Cute little bean,” she said, flushing with excitement.  “Bean Skywalker.  I’m officially calling him that until you come up with something better.  Yeah, send us that one.  We’ll frame it, and he’ll be the guest of honor.”  

Luke smiled, and put away his datapad.  “I’m glad he cheered you up,” he said.  “Worked for us, too.”   Then he sighed, and all that good cheer vanished like so much dust in the wind.  “Malinza, I know you’re only thirteen, but can I talk to you like an adult for a minute?”

Malinza sobered right away, instinctively wrapping her arms around her chest.  “Sure.”

He hesitated, and the intensity of the silence gave her a chill.  “Sweetheart, this invasion is like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” he said.  “It’s more brutal and destructive than anything the Empire ever imagined, it’s spreading like a plague, and we don’t know how to stop it.  We’re doing everything we can, but I don’t know how we’re going to win the war, or even if it can be won.  But I’m sure it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.  The Core is due to take a hit, the Jedi are divided, and our government is coming apart at the seams.  Bakura may not be safe forever.  I need you to realize that, so that if and when it happens, you don’t panic.  Okay?”

Malinza nodded, her throat very dry.  “Okay.”

“If the worst happens, you survive.  If there’s some sort of local resistance you can join, feel free to do that, but you’re still a child, and your first responsibility is to yourself and Laera.  You’ve had the benefit of some training, more than most, and I hope that can help you.  I wish there was more I could do.  Whatever happens, don’t panic, keep your head on straight, and survive.  Promise me.”

“I promise,” Malinza agreed, realizing she really had no choice.  Maybe that was the point of this whole conversation, to start her thinking about the possibility and do her panicking well ahead of time.  It was working.  

Luke had systematically stripped her of all her unspoken and unacknowledged assumptions—that he would somehow be able to keep her safe, that Bakura would go unnoticed, that there would be reinforcements available to counter any threat.  There would mostly likely be nothing.  They would be alone.

It might seem like a heartless thing to do to a child, but Malinza recognized his purpose.  Reality would disillusion her if he didn’t, and without any time to prepare.  Now she had a chance to get her thoughts in order, to try to land on her feet if she could.  Forewarned was forearmed.  A few deep breaths, and she had made her peace with it.  

“I promise,” she said again, her voice steadier this time.  

Uncle Luke smiled, seeing her understanding.  “Good,” he said.  “And I promise you, if I live to see the end of this war, the first thing I do when the dust settles will be to go out there for a proper visit.  I want to see you already, so I’ll really need a hug by then for my own peace of mind.  I don’t care if bandages and sanitape are the only things holding me together, I will be on your doorstep at the first available opportunity.  Okay?”

The absurd image made Malinza smile, as had no doubt been his intention.  “Okay, deal.  But you have to bring Bean.”

“Oh, of course.  Wouldn’t consider otherwise.”

Making theoretical social plans for after the theoretical end of the war did a lot to calm her nerves, no matter how useless they would probably be.  Maybe she should draw up a theoretical menu too.

Behind and above her, Laera cleared her throat.

“Oh, good morning, Laera,” Luke said.  “Or, good evening, rather.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Master Skywalker,” Laera informed him, polite but with a disciplinarian’s edge.

Luke turned back to Malinza.  “We’re busted,” he whispered.  “I guess you need to go to bed.  And if Mara finds me here, I’m really gonna get it.”

“For spilling her secret?”

“For that, and for letting her sleep through an opportunity to talk to you.  Anyway, get going.  We’re supposed to be sticking around Coruscant for a few months for obvious reasons, so we’ll call again later.  Love you.  Stay alive.”

“Love you, too,” Malinza said, aware that they were probably adding a new tradition to their holocall ritual.  “Stay alive.”

“A bit grim, don’t you think?” Laera suggested after the call dropped off.  

“Everything’s a bit grim these days,” Malinza explained.  “We’re just admitting it.” 

Chapter Text

29 ABY, Salis D’aar, Bakura

Beyond all hope, the unprecedented calamity now called the Yuuzhan Vong War did have an end.  Even better, it wasn’t a dark and inglorious defeat, but an unforeseen victory, one that changed even Yuuzhan Vong culture for the better.  The damage was immense, and in many cases permanent, but now that the fighting had stopped, the survivors could begin picking up the pieces.  

The fighting had gone on for nearly four years, and those years had changed Malinza’s life in many significant ways.  She was sixteen now, transitioning from a child into a young woman.  Those years had seen her first foray into public life, her first attempts at principled and peaceful political activism, her first love.  Her first arrest.

There had followed her first escape from prison, her first experience of life as a fugitive, the first time she had been kidnapped at blasterpoint, her first real battle, and her first taste of war.  She had met and fought alongside Jaina Solo, her sort-of-cousin, and also Leia and Han Solo.  She had learned that treachery and corruption existed everywhere, at home on Bakura as much as in the highest halls of galactic government, and she had come through the ordeal stronger, cannier, and hopefully wiser.  

Now, finally, after nearly five years away, Luke and Mara were coming back.  As he had promised, Uncle Luke had insisted on visiting Bakura the moment he could be spared from the war resolution efforts.  Malinza could hardly stand the anticipation, trying without much success to focus on the last bit of data slicing work she and Vyram had scheduled that morning.

“Maybe we could just call it,” Vyram suggested from his console across the table, a silly smile on his handsome face.  “You look more nervous than I am.”

“Oh, don’t be nervous,” Malinza deflected, reaching to smooth his dark hair.  “I’m sure he’ll like you.”

Despite her assurances, Malinza could appreciate how daunting it might be for her slicer boyfriend and partner in alleged crime to finally be introduced to her sponsor father, none other than the great Jedi Master himself.  

They were still serving their parole together, both still strapped into ankle monitors until their work tracking the financial corruption in the Bakuran government was complete.  That was what had gotten them in trouble in the first place, but the new administration recognized the value of their work, and had agreed to a full exoneration if they just finished what they had started in good faith.  The image of a reformed criminal wasn’t exactly the look she had been hoping to wear for their family reunion, but such were the circumstances.  The ankle monitor clashed with her pretty day dress, but she wasn’t going to let that spoil the occasion.

The last few months had been a jarring emotional ride.  In the final stages of the war, the Vong had knocked out the HoloNet relays, effectively crippling communication throughout the galaxy.  News had been hard to come by, and often spaceport rumor had sufficed.  Maybe it had been naive of her to not expect it, but Malinza had been completely unprepared to wake up one morning to the news that Luke Skywalker was dead, that he had led the assault into the Yuuzhan Vong citadel on Coruscant, killed the Supreme Overlord, and succumbed to his wounds.  Vyram had held her as she cried great heaving sobs into his shoulder, inconsolable as she mourned for herself, for Mara and baby Ben, remembering the last words she had heard him say, and realizing—perhaps for the first time—just how much Uncle Luke had meant to her.  

When a correction had been published days later, that although true in all other particulars, Master Skywalker had not died, and was making a slow albeit miraculous recovery, she had been afraid to believe it.  She needed to see him, to be convinced he was real.  

Now they would be there within the hour.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Malinza admitted, shutting down her computer.  “I can’t think anymore.”  She stood up and smoothed her dress, looking around the room for anything out of place.  “You look very nice.”

“I should hope so,” Vyram laughed.  “You threatened me with bodily harm if I showed up without shaving.”

“Yes, I did.”

Malinza swept into the kitchen to check on the lunch preparations.  “Everything ready?” she asked Laera.  “Do you need any help?  Anything I can do?”

“No, dear, everything’s arranged.”  Laera gave her a knowing look.  Malinza was afraid she was probably responsible for the new lines on her guardian’s face and the gray in her impeccably tidy braid.  “Just relax.  You know what he would say.”

Malinza rolled her eyes.  “Patience makes life easier,” she recited.  

The front chime sounded, and Laera smiled.  “He’d also probably appreciate it if you opened the door.”

Malinza ran back out to find Vyram already shaking hands and welcoming them inside.  Uncle Luke caught her eye and broke away, looking tired and slow but very much alive, and apparently as gratified as she was.  “Hey, kiddo,” he said.  “It’s been a long time.”

She rushed into his arms with a whimper, wrapping herself around his shoulders.  “They told us you died!” she complained, her voice cracking.

“Couldn’t quite manage it,” Luke said, trying to make light of the whole thing.  “I might have to make retirement plans after all.”

He held her with the same desperate relief she felt, but Malinza could tell he wasn’t quite himself.  He felt weaker, older, almost fragile.  She supposed surviving an amphistaff wound to the chest was no laughing matter.  Then he held her at arm’s length and looked her up and down, becoming sad and wistful.  “You grew up when I wasn’t looking.”

Malinza smiled so she wouldn’t cry, and punched him—very carefully—in the shoulder.  “Look more often, then!” she protested.  

Mara hugged her in turn, completely cured of her wasting disease.  “Good to see you, girl,” she said.  “Feels like a lifetime.”

“For some of us, it was,” Luke observed.  “Malinza, this is Ben.”

Malinza crouched to greet the boy at his level.  Three years old already, slender and energetic, with his mother’s flaming red hair and his father’s blue eyes, he was everything she had imagined he would be.  “Hello, Ben,” she said, extending her hand.  “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.”

Little Ben gave her a roguish little smile, and ducked farther behind his mother’s leg.

“Okay,” Malinza allowed with a smirk to match.  “Another time perhaps.”

“And who is this strapping young man we met at the door?” Mara asked, gesturing toward Vyram, who had the decency to pretend to be embarrassed by the compliment.

“This is Vyram,” Malinza explained, taking his hand and trying not to blush, “my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”  Luke gave him a critical look that Malinza supposed was mandatory.  “Aren’t you still too young for that sort of thing?”

“You just said I was grown up!”

“There are many degrees of grown up.”

Mara pointed at their tracking anklets.  “Some kind of fashion statement?” she asked, knowing perfectly well what they were.  

“Just for another two months,” Malinza assured her.  “Then we’re free and clear.”

“You know,” Luke said, easing himself into a chair as they all sat down in the living room, “getting arrested for slicing and political activism wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I told you to do whatever you could to survive the war.”

“That’s kind of rich, coming from you,” Mara pointed out, “arch rebel saboteur and vandal of the highest degree.”

“That was different,” Luke insisted, the look on his face betraying the fact that even he didn’t find that objection convincing.  “I didn’t have parents at home to worry half to death.”

“Hm.”  Laera didn’t actually say anything, but somehow managed to make herself abundantly clear as she set the platter of sandwiches down on the caf table.  

“No, don’t get up,” Mara said as Luke laboriously leaned forward.  “Ben, bring your father a sandwich.”

“I wasn’t trying to get arrested,” Malinza maintained, appreciating how adorable little Ben was as he tried his best to be helpful.  “I was just advocating for Bakura’s independence.  Peacefully, I might add.  The charges never amounted to anything real.”

“Just taking a stand for peace and justice, you might say,” Mara suggested before her husband could get a word in.

Luke turned on her with a tolerant but brittle smile.  “Could you stop undermining me, please?  I’m trying to be a good parent.”

“Oh, for whatever it’s worth, I think that job’s already done,” Mara said.  “Give the kid a good foundation when she’s young, and she’ll know what to do when the time comes.  Seems to me like you’ve done pretty well.  Little bird has to fly at some point.”

Luke sighed.  “I guess you’re right.  It just feels different on the other side.”

“It only feels different because she’s not a Jedi,” Mara suggested, “because in your mind she’s still your little girl and not a day over eleven.  You weren’t this worried about Jaina when she was sixteen.”

He didn’t argue the point, and as he looked at her Malinza could see a host of different emotions reconciling themselves—concern, resignation, affection, regret, and pride.  Finally, he sighed again and glanced at Laera.  “Turn your head for a minute . . .” he said.

“Not only true of young Solos,” Laera agreed.

“How did you like the Solos?” Mara asked, getting up to fill her plate.  “I suppose it’s just true to form that nothing less than a planetary invasion would bring the two sides of the family together.”  

“Jaina was nice,” Malinza said.  “A little frosty at first, but definitely a good friend when the shooting started.  I think she’d forgotten about our relationship, because you should have seen her face!”  Malinza was glad she could laugh about it now, all the desperation and anxiety safely in the past.  “She forced her way into the prison to talk to me as soon as the Solos and their fleet arrived.  She introduced herself, and I said, ‘Yeah, Uncle Luke talks about you sometimes,’ and for a second she turned absolutely green.  I thought she was going to fight me over it.”

“Oh, boy!”  Mara laughed and turned to Luke.  “The kids have discovered your double life, dear.  I guess we should have mentioned her more often at home.”

“I wasn’t able to spend much time with Han and Leia,” Malinza continued.  “It was too crazy between the bombing and the invasion for anything like a proper visit, and they were all preoccupied with one of Jaina’s Jedi friends who was in a bad way.”

“Oh, Tahiri?”

“That was her name.”

“We’ll have to do something about that in the near future, if we can,” Luke said, trying not to smile at the image of his niece and his ward coming to blows over him.  “I can’t believe Jaina forgot who you were.  I know I’ve talked about you at least a few times.”

“Good luck with that,” Mara countered.  “There’s enough clean-up and reconstruction to be done to preclude all pleasure trips for years.”

“I’d like to meet Jacen,” Malinza ventured.

“Even less chance of that,” Luke confessed.  “Jacen’s been overdue for some personal time, and I agreed to let him disappear and sort himself out for a while.  When he’ll be ready to come back is anyone’s guess.”

“Well, I wish him all success, then.”  Malinza didn’t mention her regret over having never met Anakin.  The youngest Solo had been killed not long after Ben had been born.  None of them needed reminding of it.

“Sweetie, get down.  You’re spilling my drink.”  Mara angled Ben down to the floor, and then set her sights on the unknown in the room.  “So, Vyram, tell us a bit about yourself.”

“About me?”  Vyram’s diffidence wasn’t entirely affected.  Malinza willed some extra strength into his backbone, knowing Aunt Mara’s scrutiny could feel more intimidating than it looked.  “Ah, well, I come from a pretty ordinary family here in Salis D’aar, no more than an average student in most respects, but I put myself through some advanced programming and computer tech courses on a merit grant.”

“General networking and data management, I assume,” Luke said as Ben clambered into his lap with a sandwich in his mouth.  “Not much call for droid programmers out here.”  

“No, not really,” Vyram agreed.  “Once I knew the lay of the land, I discovered I just had an intuition for it.  My skills and Malinza’s vision were just what the Freedom movement needed.  I’ve been able to teach her a few tricks while we’ve been working together.”

“Any plans to leverage your newfound infamy into a career?” 

Vyram shrugged.  “That’s the hope, I guess.  I’d be happy to keep doing what we’re doing if someone wants to pay me for it.”

“And no need to limit yourself to Bakura, either,” Mara reminded him.  “Principled slicers are always in high demand.”  

Luke’s expression and manner shifted ever so slightly as he slid into his Master’s persona, but Malinza recognized it immediately and braced herself for some more purposeful questions.  “I know there’s probably some general prohibition against bringing up politics at family reunions,” he said, “but speaking of Bakura, and Freedom, how do we feel about the way things turned out?”

“Well,” Malinza began, trying to be both as honest and as courteous as possible, “I have to admit I’m sorry our initial independence didn’t hold.  But I can also understand why the government reconsidered, especially if we were able to contribute to the defense of Mon Calamari and the Battle of Yuuzhan’tar.”

“We did appreciate the assist,” Mara acknowledged.  “That HIMS tech was a game changer.”  

Luke nodded, approving both her answer and Mara’s comment.  “And what did you learn as the leader of a radical political movement?”

Malinza sighed, prepared to make some admissions.  “That corruption exists everywhere, even here at home.  That anyone can betray you, and that even your biggest supporters can turn out to be your worst enemies.  You don’t have to smile like that!”

Her reaction just made him and everyone else laugh.  “Don’t worry,” Luke assured her, “I’m not trying to convert you from your isolationist ideals.  I just want to be sure you understand that reality can be a lot more nuanced than it looks.”  

Malinza nodded vigorously.  That much had been obvious when her biggest financial supporter, the Deputy Prime Minister, had intended to make her a martyr to the cause with Jaina’s lightsaber.  “I got that loud and clear.”  

He seemed satisfied.  “Good.  I’d hate to think we’d managed to survive the greatest cataclysm of our time without learning anything from it.”  

Finally enjoying the company of all her favorite people in one room, Malinza couldn’t help but appreciate again what an unspeakable relief it was that they had survived the war.  None of them could claim to be unscathed or unchanged by the experience, but the worst seemed to be over.  Even Uncle Luke, who of all them seemed to still be struggling the most with his recent wounds and private griefs, was focused steadfastly forward.  Despite everything they had lost, there was still so much to look forward to.  Malinza smiled, looking at him sitting there with his son in his lap, his arm wrapped around the boy as natural as could be.  Fatherhood looked good on him.  

She wrapped her hand around Vyram’s, imagining that she could see a glimpse of her own future now—a life partner, careers, maybe even marriage and children.  The path was there, unfolding in front of her.  

Growing up was exciting when everything was coming together so well.  

“All right,” Mara interjected, “life lessons are great, but I want to hear the whole crazy story, start to finish, in your own words.  Jaina was a little short on details, but she said there were definitely a few good fights.  Feel free to start with you resisting arrest.”

Chapter Text

32 ABY, Yanumuso Beach, Western Prytis, Bakura

It was good to get out of the city, away from university, away from all the frustrations and disappointments of daily life.  The only sounds were the keening calls of the birds, the crash of the ocean surf on the rocks, and the shifting of gravel beneath the hooves of their ifaras.  The air was crisp and clear.  The sunset promised to be amazing.  But the best part was undoubtedly the people she was able to share it with.

With a crooked smile, Malinza tapped her boot heels against the sides of her mount and clicked her tongue, trying to close the gap between her and Ben.  Luke and Mara, behind her, did likewise.  

Despite being gracefully built and natural sprinters, the ifaras available to guests at the beach lodge had such steady temperaments that mishaps were unlikely.  Six-year-old Ben in particular had been mounted on a venerable individual with the plodding determination of a migrating bantha, impervious to the boy’s attempts to urge it to a more exciting pace, but that was still no reason to let him wander too far ahead.

The Skywalkers had only just arrived at the lodge that afternoon, and Ben had been such a bouncing warhead of pent-up energy that they had agreed to an immediate outdoor excursion rather than attempt any conversation.  Laera would be waiting for them at dinner.

The postwar years had been very demanding, particularly of the Skywalkers and the other leading lights of the new Galactic Alliance.  In addition to the hassles expected from a young government as several populations struggled to resettle in a changed galaxy, the Jedi were in the midst of building a new training academy on Ossus to replace the one that had been destroyed on Vongformed Yavin 4.  Despite all that, despite the protests of their superiors and the occasional bemusement of their peers, Luke and Mara doggedly returned to Bakura with Ben at least once each year, and sometimes twice.  Disasters like the Yuuzhan Vong had a way of clarifying one’s priorities.  

A few quick paces brought her sponsor parents alongside her, one on each side.  

“We always seem to do these things in the winter,” Luke said.  It was still just an observation, about three degrees above an actual complaint, and otherwise he seemed quite comfortable in the saddle.

“Hardly,” Mara protested.  “I’d say this is late autumn at best, and the weather’s gorgeous.  You can’t be cold.”

Luke met her narrow glance across Malinza as though it were a challenge.  “Can’t I?”

“How’s the build going?” Malinza asked.

“Really well,” Luke confessed, almost sounding surprised.  “Still haven’t had any major setbacks, and I think we’re even a little ahead of schedule.”

“We have the benefit this time of knowing exactly what we want and need out of the place,” Mara explained.  “Luke’s had a few decades of practical experience to rethink how he’d build an academy from the ground up, so the plans almost drew themselves.  You should see it.”  Her mischievous grin suggested they were getting away with something of which she heartily approved.  “Scandalously unorthodox.”

Luke snorted.  “Don’t be so dramatic.  There’s none of the old guard left to scandalize.  This is the way we do things now.”

“Which way is that?” Malinza asked, bemused by the back and forth.

“We aren’t planning just an academy, but a whole community,” Luke explained.  “The old Order was rather exclusive, more self-sufficient, and while a little exclusivity has its place, we’re opening it up a bit.  Like a family, the Jedi are going to need a small army of auxiliaries—architects, mechanics, ground crew, tradesmen, administrators, suppliers—especially somewhere as underpopulated as Ossus.  There are hundreds of built-in employment opportunities for the parents and guardians of our young adepts, and we’ll be able to accommodate them if they choose to stay together during the training.”

“Sounds like an improvement to me,” Malinza agreed.  She remembered that the Jedi Order of the Old Republic had been criticized for kidnapping infants, and while that charge might have been largely hyperbole, the fact remained that young Jedi had been required to renounce their previous relationships, loves, and attachments, even family.  While she could appreciate both the ascetic and the practical advantages of an unattached life, it did sound very cold, especially when pressed upon children.  Luke seemed to have found a very different path to the same destination, and however he could afford to adapt the training regimen would probably be for the better.  A whole school with Uncle Luke’s stamp on it sounded like a wonderful place to grow up.

“So,” Mara said as they plodded along the beach trail, running her fingers through her ifara’s silky mane and deliberately changing the subject, “how’s Vyram?  You haven’t said a word about him in months, and that worries me.”

Malinza sighed, tilting her head skyward.  She had known the question would be coming.  They cared too much to not ask.  “Vyram’s in prison again,” she admitted.

“Again?”   Even Luke’s patience was thin, and he didn’t try to hide it.  “I thought he was out for good behavior, with a whole restitution plan and everything.”

“He was.  But then he did it again.”

Mara frowned and stared straight ahead, obviously disappointed.  “So, he took a giant dump on his parole, and there will be new charges,” she surmised.  “And now he’ll rot in a cell when he might have been out picking daffrills with you.”  

“Yep.”

Vyram hadn’t lost touch with any of those ideals which had first endeared him to Malinza, but unfortunately he had gotten those ideals mixed up in a vengeful belief in economic justice, and his skills as a slicer had made possible what other people only dreamed about.  His first unfortunate mark had been a wealthy business executive who had mismanaged his whole corporation into collapse.  Vyram had sliced into several of the man’s accounts and drained them overnight, converted the spoils into cash and anonymous credcards, and left little bundles of charity on the doorsteps of all the wrongfully unemployed workers his research could locate.  It was his own secret crusade, and even Malinza hadn’t known anything about it until the authorities came knocking.

It had been a shock at first, but she had been very patient, waiting and supporting him as he fought his way through the courts and received a ten-year prison sentence.  The adults in Malinza’s life—Laera, Luke, Mara, her teachers, tutors, and mentors—had all been very understanding, but she had been able to feel their misgivings and unspoken disapproval.  Then, beyond her wildest hopes, a sympathetic judge had revisited Vyram’s sentence and commuted it to five years of parole and five years of probation.  He would be forced to repay the stolen funds by dribs and drabs for what amounted to the rest of his life, but it would be possible for him to have a life, and there had been hope again.  

But comforts, relationships, and dreams were all subordinate to the mission in Vyram’s mind.  He had reoffended while he still could, this time bleeding a manifestly corrupt city official and spreading her ill-gotten fortune across several civic charities in Salis D’aar.  It hadn’t taken law enforcement long to decide where to begin their search for culprits.  

Uncle Luke was carefully considering his next words, scowling at the horizon.  “Do we know why he does this?” he finally asked.  “It sounds like a compulsion.”

“Munificence is quite a drug,” Mara said, “particularly when you’re giving away other people’s money.”  

“It’s because of his father,” Malinza explained, tired of the whole messy situation.  “His father used to be a high-powered accountant, but when he caught the financial officer embezzling funds, he was let go and blacklisted.  The family never really recovered.  Now Vyram considers it his life’s work to go around balancing those kinds of crimes.”  

There was an awkward silence, at least as awkward as it could be with the ambient noises soothing her nerves—the snorting and mewling of the ifaras, the creak of the saddles, the crash of the waves, the wind across her face.  Yes, it was very good to get away from the city, free to come and go as she wished, to see more than the four walls of a prison cell.  This was everything Vyram had thrown away, and she was learning to stop feeling sorry for him.  

“It’s hard to have a relationship with someone who can’t stay out of prison,” Mara ventured to observe.

“We talked about that,” Malinza assured them.  She wasn’t happy about it, but she refused to be sad.  Life was short, and today was a good day.  “He said he still loved me, but he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t do it again.  After that, there wasn’t much to discuss.”  She sighed, and sat a little straighter.  “He chose his life.  I still have mine, and I’d rather choose something else.”  

Risking a glance at Uncle Luke, she saw him looking at her with a proud and melancholy smile.  “That’s very grown-up of you,” he said.

Malinza returned the smile, hoping she could hide what was going on beneath it.  “You said I was grown up three years ago.”

“I said there were many degrees of grown up, and now I’d say you just climbed a few rungs higher.  You might be surprised how long it takes to reach the top.  I still haven’t found it yet.”  

His tone was joking, but Malinza could feel that he meant what he said.  It was both comforting and daunting to hear as she stared down the barrel of adulthood.  She had watched Luke change and mature over the years, although the subtleties had been lost on her as a child, only suggesting themselves as she had compared the collected holos of their visits together.  She had done the math and worked out that he’d been thirty-seven when they met.  Now he was fifty-one, beginning to go charmingly gray at points, but no less dynamic for it.  Fifteen years of hardship, war, love, and heartbreak had left him the same Uncle Luke she had always known, only more so.  

People who led loose and shallow lives aged like flowers, she thought, beautiful in their prime, but quickly wilted and spent.  People who lived with purpose, who spent their years striving for causes meant to outlast them and stand for generations, they aged like trees—always growing, always giving, taller and wiser and stronger all the time.  Despite the misfortunes of her childhood, there were a lot of people like that in her life.  Grateful for their example, Malinza quietly resolved to continue aging like a tree, unbowed by the disappointments of a single year.  Life went on.  

“I think I’ll go talk to Ben,” she said, trying to leave the past in the past.

“You do that,” Mara agreed with a warm smile.  “Maybe he’ll remember a few of the thousand and one things he wanted to tell you before he was distracted by these animals.”

Malinza tapped with her heels again and lifted herself lightly in the stirrups as her mount leaped forward into a brisk trot, leaving Luke and Mara to themselves.  She drew rein alongside Ben on the trail ahead just as they crested a bluff which afforded a breathtaking view of the sea. 

“How do you get it to do that?” Ben asked, kicking for all his little legs were worth.

“I don’t think anything short of a garral on its tail could make yours go any faster,” Malinza laughed.  “You might as well stop kicking him.”

Ben sighed.  “Wanna trade?”

“So you can run off and leave me stranded back here?”

“I’d come back!” he protested.  “Just to that rock and back?  Please?”

“Not without asking your mother,” Malinza insisted.  “There’s a reason they gave you this one, you know.  You’ve got more than enough energy for both of you.”

Ben glowered at her.  “You’re no more fun than any of the rest of them,” he grumped.  

“Who?”

“The other grown-ups.”

Maybe she was supposed to be insulted by that, but it only pulled a smile out of her.  “Funny, your dad was just saying the same thing.  But, listen,” she said, “just be a good sport, and I’ll try to see that you have a bit more fun before we get back.  Deal?”

He seemed dubious, but was willing to take what he could get.  “Okay, deal.”

“Tell me about what you’ve been up to this year.”

Ben’s eyes flashed, reminded of a whole jumble of things.  “Dad took me with him to Denon last month,” he said.  “He had to requalify in A-wing, X-wing, Y-wing, and B-wing before the end of the year.  He’s been teaching me to fly his X-wing at home.”

“Your dad lets you fly?” Malinza asked, highly skeptical.

“I haven’t actually flown it yet,” Ben admitted, “but he’s been showing me around the inside, where everything is and how it works.  He let me go in with him and fly the simulations when he was done.  The commander of the sim station said I lasted longer than anybody else my age who ever tried it.”

Malinza suspected there weren’t a lot of six-year-olds attempting to earn fighter pilot qualifications, but she wasn’t going to burst his bubble.  “Awesome.”

“Then we went out for burgers and drinks with some of Dad’s old friends—Uncle Wedge, Uncle Derek, and Uncle Wes—and they told me lots of crazy stories about when they used to fly together.”

“Are they already trying to recruit you for Rogue Squadron?”

“Maybe.  I’ll have to learn to fly first.  But Jaina’s already done Rogue Squadron.  I might want to do something else.”

“How is Jaina?” Malinza asked.  “I haven’t heard from her in a while.”  She hadn’t heard from her much at all, to her disappointment.  She had hoped that she and Jaina might have a closer relationship going forward, but the correspondence had soon dried up.  

“She’s all right,” Ben said, disinterested.  “She isn’t around much.  She’s either out doing Jedi stuff, or away visiting Jag.”

“Jag?”

“Jag Fel, her boyfriend.   He’s from way out in Chiss space, but he’s Uncle Wedge’s nephew.  I’ve never seen him.  Dad likes him, but I don’t think Uncle Han does.”

“What about Jacen?  Any news?”

“No, he’s still gone.  We never hear anything about him.  That’s why we keep coming out to see you, because Dad says it’s important to know your family.”

Malinza was unexpectedly touched by her casual inclusion in the Skywalker-Solo clan.  Apparently Ben enjoyed more of a relationship with her than he did with any of his cousins.  It made her reconsider her perception of always being on the outside of the larger family dynamic.  

“You should come out and see us on Ossus sometime,” Ben suggested.  “I got to help build our house, but before that we lived in a tent.  It was like camping for almost a year.”

“Camping for a year?”  That sounded terrible, but Malinza didn’t say so.

“Well, sort of.  Mom kept moving us back into the Jade Shadow, but I liked sleeping outside.”

“I’d love to come someday, but I can’t be away from school for long.”

Ben looked confused.  “You can’t just bring it with you?”

“No, it’s not that kind of school.”  Malinza realized Ben must have no experience of institutional education, always on the move with his parents.  “I actually have to show up in class for it to count.”

Ben considered that for a long moment.  “That’s silly,” he concluded.  “When do you have time to go places?”

“Well, I had just enough time off to come here.”

“Yeah, but when are you able to leave Bakura?”

“I’ve never left Bakura.”

Ben’s jaw actually dropped.  “You mean you’ve been here your whole life?  Never left, not even once?  Boy, you’re really missing out.  I’ve been to . . .”  He paused as he counted on his fingers.  “Five . . . no, six . . . at least eight different worlds.”

Malinza laughed.  “All right, Mister Sophisticated Galactic Traveler.  This isn’t quite a colorless provincial backwater.  We can have fun right here.”  She bent and grabbed his ifara by the bridle, dragging them both to a halt.  “Come on.”

Ben looked confused.

“Come on!” Malinza beckoned, patting the open space behind her saddle.  “Climb aboard.  Let’s go for a run before your parents catch up.”

Keen to give it a try, Ben scrabbled off his mount and jumped across to Malinza’s.  She wrapped his arms firmly around her waist.  “Hold on tight,” she said.  “Ready?”

“Let’s go!”

Longing for some release herself, Malinza clicked her tongue and dug her heels in with an irrepressible grin as their ifara surged forward with a few strong leaps, flying into a glorious gallop along the beach.

The landscape seemed to stretch away ahead of them forever, touched with the brilliant orange light of sunset.  Speed really was a potent antidote to life’s small miseries, and Malinza supposed that was probably part of what addicted people to their airspeeders and starfighters.  As the whole world sped by in her peripheral vision, she wondered if this was a taste of the same rush Luke and Mara must feel when they flew together, living in the moment with no guarantee of tomorrow, powerful and transcendent.  She longed for a partnership like that, more than she had realized before, and what she’d thought she’d had was apparently little better than smoke and mirrors by comparison.  It hurt, but at least she was free.  She could find her own power.  

When she finally pulled their ifara back to a more sober stride, Ben was too choked by giggling peals of laughter to speak right away.  “That was totally astral!” he managed to shout, throwing both hands in the air.  “Can we go again?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Malinza said, letting the animal catch its breath.  “It’s too dark now to go racing around, and we have to wait for your parents to catch up.”

As the orange sunset turned to violet, Luke and Mara appeared around the bend, following at a gentle loping pace, unhurried and unworried, bringing Ben’s abandoned mount with them.  It was a simple moment they seemed to be appreciating, a moment to not be Jedi Masters, not even parents in pursuit of their son, but just two lovers out for a twilight ride.   No conversation, no problems, no doubts, just each other.  

It was beautiful and heartbreaking all at once, everything Malinza wanted for herself captured in a single moment in time.  She may not have found true love yet, but at least she knew what it looked like.  It wasn’t promised to everyone.  Laera had never found it, but seemed to be content.  Malinza suspected it looked the same at the core no matter what different personalities and circumstances were combined to make it.  She wondered what she might have learned from her parents’ relationship if they had lived.  

“Hey, Mom!” Ben shouted, “did you see that?  It was just like flying!”

“Oh, we saw it,” Mara assured him as she and Luke slowed and they all continued on together.

“Malinza says we can do it again tomorrow.”

“I said maybe,” Malinza was quick to qualify.

Mara snorted.  “That’s your blood,” she said to her husband.  “You’ll have to beat that craving for adventure and excitement out of him someday, Master.”

“Won’t be easy,” Luke agreed, sizing up the challenge.  

What seemed to be an endless stretch of beach was really a loop trail, and it ended where it had begun, back at the ifara stables.  The violet evening had been transformed by silver moonlight when they arrived back there, and it was high time they returned to the lodge and joined Laera for dinner.  

In the three years since the war had ended, Luke seemed to have steadily regained his strength.  He was strong enough now to help Mara dismount, and Mara willingly slid into his arms despite not needing any help.  In quiet moments, if she cared to notice, Malinza saw all the Skywalkers treat one another and tolerate being treated with extraordinary tenderness and consideration.  Luke and Mara’s relationship had been very rough-and-tumble before, and ultimately still was, but it had been softened by a poignant appreciation that only a close encounter with death could bring out of someone.  Mara had survived a terminal illness, Luke had survived a mortal wound, and young Ben had been raised in that atmosphere of intentional devotion that refused to take any day for granted.  It was yet another life lesson Malinza could tuck away for later.

Dinner was a serene and adult affair.  Luke and Mara caught up with Laera, discussing current events, the reconstruction efforts, and the Chief of State’s mad plan to reoccupy Coruscant several decades ahead of schedule.  All of them studiously ignored the stares and whispered comments of the other patrons of the lodge, most of whom had not expected to be sharing the room with guests of such consequence.  It was like that anytime they went anywhere.  Malinza was content to tease Ben and encourage him to eat his vegetables, cycling idly through the dessert holomenu as a final coercion.  She ordered a butoberry puff cake for them to share at the end, which was quite good, although Ben preferred his portion to be swimming in the caramel drizzle.  

Laera retired to their own quarters, and Luke and Mara had to wrangle Ben into bed, but Malinza lingered on the observation deck outside, sipping a cocktail.  The night sky was perfectly clear, unobstructed by either clouds or urban light pollution, and so absolutely flooded with stars.  The view was staggering.  

You mean you’ve been here your whole life?  Never left, not even once?  Boy, are you missing out.

Ben’s comments echoed in her mind despite all her rationalizations to the contrary, and for a moment she was once again a four-year-old girl watching Luke’s X-wing blast away to places she could only imagine.  

She didn’t mind Bakura, she even liked Bakura, and she had no reason to leave.  Her whole life was on Bakura.  Well, everything except her extended family.  Part of her was still intrigued by the strange romance of their rootless lives, more at home on the Jade Shadow than on any planet anywhere.  Of course, she had seen glimpses of what their lives were like, an apparently unending dance with war, shifting factions, and unpredictable violence, and she realized she might be okay with missing out on most of that.  

“Hey,” Luke said, joining her at the rail.

Malinza jumped, too fuzzed by her cocktail to notice him behind her.  “Burning skies, Uncle Luke!” she complained, catching her breath.  “Warn a girl next time, or are you trying to make me pitch over the edge and break my neck?”

“Aw,” Luke replied, affectionately mocking her overreaction, “you know I’d never let you fall.  Mara volunteered to handle Ben and sent me back out here.  She’s worried about you and this whole disaster with Vyram, and she thinks we should talk about it.  Says it’s one of those important daddy-daughter moments we need to address.”

Malinza scoffed.  “None of us is exactly qualified to handle those,” she pointed out.  She was a daughter with no parents, Luke was a father with no daughter, and Mara had never known any parents at all.

“No,” Luke agreed, “but we’re the best we’ve got, so we might as well make the most of it.”  He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small duraplast container and rattled it invitingly.  “Want some?”

“I assume those aren’t mints,” Malinza said, amused by the subterfuge as Luke dispensed a few chocolates into her hand.  The stuff hadn’t been especially remarkable before the war, but when the news had broken that all but one of its native worlds had been Vongformed, chocolate had vanished from store shelves across the galaxy and become a blackmarket commodity overnight.  Now here they were, sharing it under cover of darkness like it was glitterstim.  Malinza let it melt on her tongue, unashamed.  Like most good things, it never seemed quite so good as it did when it was in short supply.  

“Now,” Luke said, tucking the rest away, “I’m not sure how girls do it, but back in the day when I was getting my heart broken, the procedure was to hole up with my best friend and a few good drinks and just spill the whole mess.  Then, if he felt like it, he’d offer commentary and advice.  How’s that sound?”

His approach, ludicrously straightforward with a gloss of self-deprecation and deadpan humor, pulled a smile out of her.  “Sounds great,” she said with an exaggerated shrug.  “I’ve already had the drink, so why not?”  

“All right, then, go for it.  We’ve all seen your brave face, kiddo, so tell me how you really feel.”

Malinza paused to gather her thoughts, but they were all so mixed up that she didn’t know where to start.  Might as well just skim off the top.  “I guess I’m angry, mostly,” she admitted.  “After everything we’d been through together, everything I’d done for him, everything I’d given him, how could he just throw it away like that?  I really loved him.  I waited for him.  I visited him every weekend in prison, was scanned, poked, prodded, and questioned.  I was there for every court appearance!  I stood by him when everyone wanted me to leave him.  And don’t try to deny it, Uncle Luke; I saw that look on your face.  After all that, he has the almighty gall to look me in the eye and say he can’t promise he won’t do it again?  Was it all for nothing?  He’d rather pirate cash and sit in prison than be with me?  Why?  Why?”

Luke shifted against the rail, looking out to the starlit waves.  “I think anger is a natural response to what we perceive as betrayal,” he said, “an attempt to protect ourselves from being hurt again.  Fair enough.  But you can’t make your peace with what happened until you’re willing to stop being angry.”

Malinza felt another protest rising in her, but she wasn’t too tipsy to recognize that Luke seemed to be speaking from experience.  So instead she took a deep breath, swallowed her pride and looked at him, inviting him to continue. 

“About the time I was your age,” he said, “I had finally made it off Tatooine, and I fancied myself in love a few times.  My first serious interest turned out to be my sister, so that was a non-starter.  There was your mother, and there were a few others who came and went before they could amount to anything real.  Life was hard, and often very lonely.  But then, just when I was ready to give up hoping, I met someone where I least expected her, and we fell truly, madly in love in ways I hadn’t imagined before.  It was perfect, it was forever, first and last, and nothing could have made me leave her.”

Malinza felt a ‘but’ coming.  He must not be talking about Mara.

“But,” Luke went on, sobering, “apparently it wasn’t as perfect as I thought it was.  Fatal flaws in a relationship can seem small at first, but they just keep growing in spite of anything you can do, like stress cracks.  I fought, killed, and almost died for her, and I’d have done it again, as often as I had to.  But she could see where we were coming apart, things I didn’t want to see.  But rather than have a hard conversation about it, she tried to get herself killed in combat, and then ran away.”

Malinza flinched, stung for him.  “Ouch.”

He nodded.  “It hurts when you offer someone your whole self and they reject you.  I was hurt, I was angry, and I thought I was dealing with it, but in hindsight I wasn’t doing a very good job.  I let all that leftover misery turn me into a lousy friend, a sloppy Jedi, and a ripe mark for other bad-faith actors to swoop in and take advantage of, which they did.  By the time I realized what was happening, I’d let six years of bad decisions dig me into a deeper hole than I’d started in.”

It was definitely a side of the story she wasn’t going to find in any of the history files.  “Okay,” Malinza said, ready for the lesson, “how did you crawl out?”

Luke turned to her and smiled.  “Well, there was this little girl on Bakura who needed me to man up and put my life in order.”

Malinza blushed and looked away.  “Come on, I can’t have been the only reason.”

“You were the first reason.  Then Mara slapped me around a few months later, which of course just made me fall in love with her, and now here we are.”

“So, what’s your point?”

“My point,” Luke explained, becoming the gentle Master once again, “is that I was too emotional at the time to understand that Callista wasn’t rejecting me, just us.   She still loved me, but we weren’t going to work together, and part of her was just as torn up about it as I was.  Maybe the same is true of Vyram.  I’m sure he appreciates everything you did for him—who wouldn’t?—but you’re right, he made his choice, just as Callista made her choice, and we have to respect that.”  

He sighed, his expression deeply sympathetic.  “My point is that if I hadn’t wasted so much time feeling sorry for myself, and instead tried to be grateful for her honesty, I might have avoided a lot of grief and heartache.”  

Malinza felt tears threatening again, tears she had promised herself she wouldn’t shed.  He was right.  She knew he was right, and tomorrow she might be able to make her peace with it and spare herself those empty years of resentment and confusion, but tonight it still hurt.  Tonight she wanted to feel a little sorry for herself, to just be a brokenhearted little girl again.  

She turned and fell into him, needing to be held.  Uncle Luke obliged, putting his arms around her and holding her to his chest just the way she wanted.  Maybe it was all for the best, maybe she’d be able to look back someday and be grateful, but right now it was still miserably disappointing, and he understood that.  He might not be her real father, but in the moment she couldn’t have asked for a better one.  

Malinza didn’t count the minutes.  It might have been five, or maybe twenty, but finally she let go, straightened, and packed up her emotions with a few ugly sniffles.  She was done being pitiful, but wasn’t quite ready to give up his company.  “Hey,” she said, “do you think we could go for a walk?”

“Oh,” Luke said, sounding a little surprised but perfectly agreeable, “sure.”  He offered her his arm and led her toward the stairs descending from the deck to the shore.  “Just don’t ask me to take my boots off.  Mara says that’s what you do on a beach, but I’m still not convinced.”

Chapter Text

34 ABY, Salis D’aar, Bakura

Once again, Malinza was finding it difficult to contain her excitement, strolling aimlessly through the grand indoor fountain garden of the Krist Hotel on the arm of her fiancé, continuously glancing out through the towering transparisteel windows toward the approach from the speeder park.  People were slowly coming and going, passing through the vaulted atrium on business of their own.  Lio was enduring her nervous flutters with admirable patience, and his parents lingered on the opposite side of the garden with Laera.  It was going to be a very small and intimate wedding, reflecting Malinza’s religious sensibilities, limited to immediate family.  The last three guests were due at any minute.

It had all been quite a whirlwind, and the idea that she was getting married the next day hadn’t completely sunk in yet.  Lio was a young and rather brilliant attorney she had met during her internship with the Bakuran state department, following in his father’s career path.  As a family, the Kedricks were fabulously wealthy, but that didn’t matter to Malinza.  Lio was fun, energetic, and happily very handsome with his tousled blond hair and pale brown eyes.  She always felt lighter around him, ready to conquer anything life could throw at them, so when he had proposed marriage after only three months, she hadn’t hesitated.  The speed of their courtship had understandably surprised and perhaps perturbed the important people in her life, but they were coming as quickly as they could.

“Hey!” Malinza said, finally tugging Lio toward the front.  “I think that’s them!”

“It had better be,” he laughed.  “You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm at this rate.”

It was them.  Malinza watched as Luke, Mara, and Ben climbed the steps outside, feeling almost weightless with anticipation.  When she had first called them with the news and an invitation, part of her had been afraid they wouldn’t be able to make it on such short notice, but Uncle Luke had just repeated the first thing she had ever heard him say, that he wouldn’t miss it for anything.  The Skywalkers had quite literally dropped everything to be there, and the repercussions were so pronounced that rumor of the furor at the capital had briefly made the holonews.  Apparently, Chief Omas liked his Jedi on call at all times, but Luke had promised to keep his comlink switched off for the duration.  

Ben was seven now, nearly eight, the same age Malinza had been when Luke had first presented her to Mara.  That felt like a lifetime ago, and somehow only yesterday.  

She ran to meet them as they came in, and Luke caught her in a hug the way he always did.  “I’m so glad you could make it!” she said.

“Well, you didn’t give us much time to make arrangements,” Mara admitted, “but if you thought we were going to let the bureaucracy keep us away, you’re crazy.”

“Sorry about that.”  Malinza let go of Luke and hugged Mara in turn.  “But life comes at you fast, as you always say.  Hi, Ben.”

“Hi, Lin.”  Ben offered her his hand like a half-sized adult.  “I’m supposed to say ‘congratulations.’”

“And this must be the man himself,” Luke observed, squaring up and offering Lio the same gesture.  “Mister Kedrick.  It’s a pleasure.”

“Master Skywalker,” Lio said, accepting his hand and managing to look deferential despite being half a head taller.  “It’s an honor.”  He turned.  “These are my parents, Tav and Jandra Kedrick.” 

“Master Skywalker,” Tav greeted them warmly, “Madame Skywalker.  We were so pleased to hear you would be joining us.”

“Very pleased indeed,” Jandra echoed, lingering on Luke’s hand.  “The ceremony really wouldn’t work without the two of us.”

“It wouldn’t?”  His tone was still conversational, but Luke obviously recognized that he was being singled out.

“Sorry,” Malinza began, “I didn’t have a chance to explain—”

“It’s new to me, too, all this about the Cosmic Balance,” Jandra confessed, her brilliant smile matching the rope of pearls twisted around her neck, “but apparently you and I have important roles to play, Master Skywalker.  Anything for dear Malinza.”

“I had hoped Jaina could be here,” Malinza ventured, not wanting to spoil the moment, but curious about the reason.  “Is she still seeing Jag?”

“Jaina is still figuring herself out,” Luke admitted.  “And, no, I don’t think she and Jag are seeing each other anymore.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Who’s Jag?” Lio asked.

“Jag Fel,” Malinza explained.  “General Antilles’ nephew.”

Lio shrugged.  “I’m afraid I don’t follow General Antilles.”

“Maybe you follow his sister,” Mara suggested, a sharp note of humor in her voice for those who could recognize it.  “Jag’s mother is Wynssa Starflare.”

Lio lit up like a sparkfly at the mention of Syal Antilles’ buxom actress persona, wildly popular during the Imperial era.  “Wynssa Starflare?  We love Wynssa!  I didn’t know she had children.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” Tav insisted, realigning the conversation.  “You all must be starving.  Just follow us, and we can visit over a bite of lunch in the dining room.”

A “bite of lunch” at the Krist cost enough per plate to feed a middle-class family for a week.  They lingered over their food, becoming better acquainted.  Malinza was well aware that they were not people who would naturally socialize—Luke and Mara moved in circles appropriate to their caste of warrior priests, Laera chose her friends very judiciously, while the Kedricks were worldly and extravagant and almost above it all—but everyone was pleasant, and after three hours of small talk, Malinza felt they had achieved as much kinship within the ranks as they would feasibly need.  

Still, and despite his indefatigable courtesy, she couldn’t shake the impression that something was gnawing at Luke.  It was just a slight shadow behind his eyes, increasingly at odds with his smile, and Malinza caught a few significant glances between him and Mara.  Again, they seemed to be having a silent debate even while engaged in superficial conversation.  She’d have to ask them about that as soon as they had a moment alone.

That moment came after Tav and Jandra politely excused themselves to their suite for the afternoon, and Lio brushed a kiss on her cheek as he got up to quickly visit the ‘fresher.  As Ben tore into a dessert, and the waitstaff took up the empty plates, Luke finally heaved a deep breath and reached for Malinza across the table.

“Okay,” he began, almost reluctantly, squeezing her hand as she slid it into his.  “I’m not trying to whip a sandstorm into your carnival, kiddo, especially as we’re supposed to be doing the deed tomorrow, but I have to ask.  Are you sure this is what you want?”

Malinza offered him an understanding smile, knowing Luke would have no peace if he didn’t ask, that it was probably required that fathers everywhere ask at least once, and she could see that his concern was genuine.  He didn’t know Lio like she did, and in fairness the whole situation had knocked them sideways with little to no warning.  Still, she didn’t want to dismiss his concerns out of hand, not without at least hearing them first.  His instincts had given him an accurate read on Laera, and Malinza remembered that Luke had assured her he could tell the good ones from the bad if he tried.  “Why do you ask?” she invited him to explain.  “What’s bothering you?”

“It’s not easy to put it into words.”  Luke glanced at Laera for support, and she answered with an expression roughly equivalent to a shrug, keeping her own counsel and letting his intuition speak for itself.  “They seem like nice people,” he prefaced, “friendly, outgoing, tolerant, but . . . shallow.   I just get this cloying shallowness from them that makes me wonder if any of them have the staying power to stick around when the fun’s over.”  He turned to Mara.  “Am I wrong?”

Mara shook her head.  “You’re not wrong,” she agreed.  

“It makes it hard for me to really trust them.”

Malinza squeezed him back.  “To trust them with me, you mean?”

“If you want to cut to the core of it,” Luke admitted, “yeah.  Something’s pinging in the back of my mind, and it makes me nervous.”  

Malinza shifted her grip, taking his hand in both of hers.  “Not everyone grows up walking through fire, Uncle Luke,” she presumed to remind him.  “Lio hasn’t had any major setbacks in his life yet, but I don’t doubt that he’s a good person.  He’s been nothing but kind to me, enthusiastic, considerate, everything I could ever want.  I know you were confronting the Emperor and changing the course of history when you were twenty-three, but Lio hasn’t exactly been given the same opportunities.  Maybe he’s a little silly and superficial sometimes, but I think he’ll prove himself when the time comes.”

Luke recognized her wry humor, and conceded the point.  “Maybe you’re right,” he said.  “If I could reach into a crowd and pull out a husband for you, he just isn’t what I would pick.  But maybe I have unreasonably high standards where you’re concerned.”

Malinza squeezed his hand again, truly thankful she had them in her life.  The universe seemed to know what it was doing after all.  “Don’t worry,” she assured him, “so have I.  I’ll expect him to be just like you.”

She could see that Luke was deeply touched by the sentiment, but Lio reappeared before he could say anything.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Lio asked, keeping the tone light.  “This is a wedding, you know.  We’re supposed to be smiling.”  He reached for Malinza’s hand to help her stand, necessarily making her let go of Luke.  She thought she might have imagined the flinty flash of jealousy in Luke’s eyes, but Mara had also clocked it, and quietly put her hand on his arm.

“We were just talking about that,” Malinza admitted as they all stood up.  “And about you.”

“Oh, saving the good stuff for when I’m gone, I see.”  Lio smiled and kissed her fingers, flamboyantly gallant as always.  “I love talking about me.”  

“Well, I’d like to continue that conversation, if you don’t mind,” Luke interposed.  He wasn’t hostile, but his formal posture was definitely that of Master Skywalker.

“Yes,” Malinza agreed, pushing Lio away.  “You’re supposed to go talk to Uncle Luke.  I want you two to know each other better before tomorrow.  Mara and I need some girl time.”

Ben made a guttural noise and rolled his eyes, apparently already sure which parent he would be stuck with.  

Malinza took Mara and Ben up to her bridal suite while Luke and Lio took their conversation out into the perfectly manicured topiaries of the hotel’s Meditation Gardens.  In practice, not much meditation ever happened out there; it was much more popular as a setting for beautiful holos of beautiful people in their beautiful gowns.  Malinza wasn’t ashamed to admit that they were planning to use it for just that purpose after the ceremony, but for now she was pleased to see that her balcony gave her a distant but unimpeded view of the two most important men in her life as they got to know one another.  It seemed Luke was letting Lio do most of the talking at the moment.  Lio did love to talk.  

“Very nice,” Mara said, taking notice of the amenities.  “Very classic Imperial.  

“Best in Salis D’aar,” Malinza agreed.  “They insisted.”

“You’ll never want for the finer things, that’s for sure.”  Mara joined her on the balcony.

“Hey, there’s Dad!” Ben said, bouncing and trying to climb the balcony rails for a better look.  

“Okay, that’s enough of that.”  Mara plucked him off and set him down again.  “Come on, I’ll get you set up with some HoloNet.  We have boring stuff to talk about.”

While Mara was gone, Malinza let her curiosity get the better of her, and rummaged through the gift box and tissue for the new toy Lio had given her that morning.  It was a sleek pair of macrobinoculars, supposedly strictly for wildlife observation, and they did have a limited long-range audio receiver.  Hoping neither of them would turn around or look up, she trained the viewers on them and activated the audio.

“—very important to me,” Luke was saying as they walked, his voice almost drowned out by the birds.  “Naturally, I’d like some assurances that her prospective partner in life is prepared to treat her with the dignity and consideration I expect.  You understand.”

“Yes, sir,” Lio answered, on his best behavior.  “Of course.” 

Malinza fumbled the binocs away, hearing Mara coming back.  

“There,” Mara said.  “That could keep him occupied all day if we let it.”  She beckoned Malinza away from the balcony.  “Come on, girl, show me the dress!”

Pleasantly distracted, Malinza opened the wardrobe and pulled out her gown, simple, elegant, unadorned white shimmersilk with a form-fitting silhouette.  Lio would be wearing black.  It was all part of the ritual.  She held it up against her as Mara took a step back to better appreciate it.

Mara sighed with a sentimental smile.  “You know Luke is going to die a little bit when he sees you wearing that,” she said.  

“Well, I hope not,” Malinza protested with a playful pout.  “That’s not quite the effect I was going for.”

“Not your fault,” Mara insisted.  “That’s just the way life is.  After you called to tell us about all this, he was up all night just trying to calm down.”  She smiled again.  “As Jedi, we’re supposed to practice detachment more than most, but it’s always been hard for him.  Now you’re asking him to hand his little girl to a perfect stranger.  It’s just something he’ll have to get used to.”  

“Not a stranger for long, I hope.”  Malinza put the dress away and returned to the balcony.  “I wish we knew what they were talking about.”

“I know what they’re talking about,” Mara said, leaning against the rail beside her.  

“How, through the Force?”

“No, because I’ve heard Luke give the same speech several times before.  It’s a Skywalker classic by now, the how-a-boy-becomes-a-man speech.  Should do Lio some good.”

Malinza watched them for a quiet moment, itching to get her binocs back out.  “I just want them to get along,” she said.

“You handle your man, and I’ll handle mine,” Mara proposed with an easy laugh.  “So long as Lio behaves himself and keeps you happy, Luke will play nice.”  Then she sobered, watching the two of them with the same intensity Malinza was.  “I didn’t want to gang up on you over lunch,” she finally said, “but I have to admit I think Luke’s concerns are valid.  But that’s coming from a pair of outsiders.  He’s been good to you?  No worries, doubts, second thoughts?”

“He can be a little childish sometimes,” Malinza admitted.  “He likes his expensive toys, his flashy speeders, and all those high society perks he grew up with.  I think his parents are more excited about the prestige attached to the name ‘Thanas’ than about me as a person, but I don’t think that’s how Lio sees me.  He always treats me like the proverbial princess.  He’s always ready with a compliment, makes me the center of attention at every party.  All I have to do is glance at something I like, and he’s ready to buy it for me.”

“Sharing the high life can be a lot of fun,” Mara agreed, an undercurrent of reservation in her voice.  “Waiting long vigils in hospital rooms, not so much.  Carrying one another when the bad times come, sitting together in the other’s grief, dying to yourself a little more each time the baby cries through the night.  Those are the things that matter when everything else disappears, the things Luke needs to know Lio’s good for.  Think your boy’s up to it?”

Malinza did Mara the courtesy of considering what she was saying before committing to an answer.  She had no evidence on that score one way or the other.  She had only known Lio for a few months, after all, so it was a matter of intuition.  “I think he is,” she decided, unable to believe that the man who professed to love her would ever leave her twisting in the wind.  “He’d better be.”  

Now Mara’s laugh was a bit darker.  “Yeah, he’d better be.  You know what you deserve, girl.  Don’t settle for less.”  

They watched from the balcony a while longer, enjoying the breeze and the mild weather.  Gray clouds were gathering overhead, but that was hardly worth noticing on Bakura.  Even a torrential thunderstorm couldn’t matter today.  Today was a good day.

“Ah, see?”  Mara nodded down at the two of them.  “He’s in full swing now.”

Malinza looked, and she did see that Luke was now doing all the talking.  They were too far away to glean more than a general impression, but what had begun as a simple man-to-man chat had shifted instead into a grim patriarch laying out good advice that any younger man would be wise to accept with thanks.  Lio, fortunately, seemed to have enough good sense to take it seriously.  He nodded occasionally, and looked appropriately humble.  

“Coming in for the kill,” Mara whispered.  “Watch.  If he doesn't give him the ominous hand on the shoulder, I’ll pay for the reception.”  Then she turned, hearing something from the other room that demanded her attention.  “The blazes is Ben watching?  Excuse me while I rescue my kid from degenerate entertainment.”

No sooner had Mara gone than Malinza saw Luke put his hand on Lio’s shoulder exactly as she had predicted.  It was amicable enough, but there was a warning in the gesture that was hard to miss.  She grabbed her binocs again and powered them up.

“—because if I hear otherwise,” Luke was saying, “the only thing that will stop me from coming here and making it my business will be her telling me not to.  Is that clear?”

Lio nodded again.  “Yes, sir.  Perfectly.”

“Good.”   Luke released him, and his mood seemed to lighten, although that edge was still lurking beneath.  “I’m glad we understand one another.  In the meantime,” he said, offering his hand again in a more conciliatory fashion, “congratulations.”   

Lio obliged, though he seemed a bit unsettled.  “Thank you, sir.”

Malinza frowned and put her binocs away.  It hadn’t been a back-alley scrap, but the interaction had been more hostile than she had hoped.  The conversation clearly hadn’t allayed Luke’s misgivings, or worse had provoked them to the point that he was reduced to unambiguously outlining his expectations.  It was probably just too much too quickly.  If they’d had a year or two to know Lio before this, Luke might have been more relaxed about it.  Malinza would have to talk to them both before tomorrow, probably separately.  She didn’t want any sour faces in the morning.  

They all gathered that evening to rehearse the ceremony before dinner.  It was very simple as weddings went, no music, no pomp, no extraneous pageantry, but the details were very important, reflecting the ideals of the Balance as much as possible.  Luke would stand as Malinza’s father opposite Lio’s mother.  There was no formal officiant, as the spouses were recognized as effecting the union through their vows of loyalty to one another, but there would be an unobtrusive civil witness present to validate the necessary documentation.  

The Kedricks had reluctantly agreed to the austere ceremony, but they had made certain that every item present was of the highest quality.  As a compromise, Malinza had agreed to the enormous society to-do they had planned in lieu of a wedding reception.  That was scheduled for after the honeymoon, long after Luke and Mara had gone back to Ossus.  

Taking advantage of their brief time together, Malinza took Luke back out to the Meditation Gardens for a quiet walk after dinner.  The whole place was cool and wet after the afternoon storm, and the gloom was alive with the chirp of thriving insects.

Wrapped around Luke’s arm, Malinza drew a deep breath of that damp earth smell she loved so much.  “Don’t be jealous,” she said.

Luke scoffed quietly to himself.  “Now, what makes you say that?” he asked, playing dumb.

Malinza scoffed right back.  “Maybe your feelings aren’t as subtle as you think they are, Uncle Luke.”

He laughed.  “So I’ve been told.  They’ve gotten me in trouble before.  Has Lio been complaining already?”

“No,” Malinza insisted, “he hasn’t said a word.  It’s just obvious.”  She squeezed his hand as they walked, the real one.  “You aren’t losing me, you know.  I’ll still be here, and I’ll expect to keep seeing you all.”

“I know,” he sighed, squeezing her back.  “It’s just a lot.  It’s a lot all at once, I don’t know them at all, and you’re still so young, but suddenly you’re ready to take vows and settle down, and I really don’t want to believe you’re making a mistake.  Even if you are, it wouldn’t be my place to stop you.  I just wish I could have been present for you more often, more consistently.  Now you’re moving into some very different circles, and I don’t know how welcome we’ll be.”

“Now you sound like I did when you got married,” Malinza protested.  “I was five, so what’s your excuse?  Nothing’s going to change if I have anything to say about it.  I don’t care what the Kedricks or their pinched-faced society friends think, you are always welcome in my house.  In fact, I’ll be very annoyed if you don’t keep coming around at least as often as you have been.”

Luke chuckled to himself.  “I’ll see if I can keep justifying all the personal time to Chief Omas,” he said.  

“Please do.” 

“You didn’t tell me I had such a key role in the ceremony,” he complained gently, changing the subject.

“I didn’t want you to give yourself any unnecessary stress over it,” Malinza insisted.  “You’ll do fine.”

“At least your strangely specific dress code makes sense now,” he said.  “You don’t think having a Jedi officiate at a Balance ritual is a fundamental contradiction?”  

Again, he wasn’t wrong.  Despite her ambivalence toward the subject in general, and his conspicuous restraint in her presence, Malinza was well aware by now that Luke wasn’t just any Jedi, but rather the Jedi, the pinnacle of the current tradition, the most extreme example she could possibly have.  “It is,” she agreed.  “But I don’t care.”  She gently pulled them to a stop, then stood on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek.  “I love you, and I don’t care.  Please don’t let things change.”  

Rather than say anything, Luke pulled her into a hug, one she was glad to reciprocate.  As life went on, it seemed more and more difficult to reach across the tangle of spinning solar systems to catch hold of one another that way, and Malinza wanted to ground herself in it.  He wasn’t an empty echo of reconstituted light now, just a holographic promise that he was still alive somewhere and thinking of her.  He was there, in the flesh, something for her to hold on to.  She lay her head on his chest just to feel and hear his heartbeat again, the sound that had given her strength and courage throughout her childhood.  

No matter how much she loved Lio, there would always be a part of her that belonged to Uncle Luke.  That power she called the Balance and he called destiny had brought them together for a reason, and that had to count for something.

When she tried to let him go, Luke wouldn’t allow it right away, holding her a few moments longer.  He loved her, too, the daughter he wanted but could never quite have.  Now she was growing even farther from him in a sense, and he hadn’t been prepared for it.  Malinza had never doubted that Luke had her best interests at heart, but it always touched her to realize how much he cared.  

“This isn’t the end of anything,” she insisted when he finally let her go.  

“Of course not,” Luke agreed.  He centered himself again with an effort.  “I just want to know you’ll be safe, and happy.  Not many people are, and I’ve been trying to give you that since the day we met.”

Malinza found herself trying to blink away tears before she had to admit to them.  “Thanks,” she said, her voice tight as she remembered the long road that had led them there.  “I’d say you did the best anyone could considering what you had to work with.”

They shared a sad smile, neither wanting to waste time lamenting circumstances beyond their control.  

Luke reached into his robes.  “I have something for you,” he said, producing a small black velvet bag that looked like it was intended for jewelry.  “I knew any rock from Bakura would have to be really special to be worth adding to your collection, since you live on it every day.  I’d been thinking about this one for a while, but you accelerated my timetable.”

Malinza emptied the bag into her hand and found a long faceted crystal, a lovely translucent white, hung on a silvery chain.  “This is from Bakura?” she asked, a smile spreading across her face.  Technically, the wedding ritual forbade all jewelry, but now she was reconsidering.  “It’s beautiful.”

“I picked up some sand when you brought us to that beach last year,” Luke explained.  “It took some work to clear the impurities, and all my synth-crystals tend to lean green, but I managed to bend it white.”

“Wait, you made this?”  Malinza’s mind finally caught up to what he was saying, realizing that what she had thought was a tastefully understated gift was in fact impossibly special.  

“With some help from a blast furnace, but yeah.”  He was obviously pleased to see she appreciated it.  “Same way I make all my lightsaber crystals.  This one would have made a bright white blade, at least before I drilled a hole in it.”  

Malinza put the chain around her neck without another thought.  She was absolutely going to wear it tomorrow, and maybe every day for a long time.  “Thank you,” she said, wrapping her arms around him again.  “I love it.”

Luke held her close, but when he let her go again there was something final about it, as though he had finally come to terms with it all.  “So,” he said, looking her squarely in the eye, “we’re really doing this tomorrow?”

“We’re really doing this tomorrow,” Malinza assured him, but met his resolve with a smile.  “Don’t worry.  Mara taught me how to handle myself.”

That made him laugh, which warmed her heart.  Luke shrugged and offered her his arm again as they turned to walk back.  “Poor Lio.”

Speaking of Lio, they met him in the subdued light of the atrium where he had apparently been waiting for them.  His habitual smile was missing, his expression narrower than Malinza would have liked.  A rift was already growing between him and Luke, which was exactly what she didn’t want.  

Luke seemed to recognize it, too, and she was pleased to see that his posture was much less defensive than before.  “Well, son,” he said, passing Malinza to him with good grace, “Malinza obviously thinks very highly of you, which means we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on.  She trusts you, so I guess I will, too.”

Uneasily disarmed by the peace offering, Lio accepted Luke’s hand in the spirit in which it was offered, free and clear, without any underlying threats or conditions.  “Thank you, sir.” 

“Be good to her,” Luke asked before he left.  “When she grants you the role of husband, that’s a sacred trust.  Stand by her like your lives depend on it, because they do.”

Lio swallowed visibly, and he looked more serious than Malinza had ever seen before.  “I’ll try,” he said.

A flicker of a pained expression passed Luke’s face as he debated his next words.  “With things this important,” he said, “we don’t try.  We just do.”

Then, with a nod and a melancholy smile, he turned and climbed the grand stairs toward the lift, returning to his own family.

Lio let out a long breath when he was gone.  “All right, then,” he said aloud to himself, his good humor now a mask for festering insecurity, “no pressure.”

“Oh, stop,” Malinza protested, digging her elbow into his ribs.  “He just wants you to be kind to me.”

“No,” Lio corrected her, “he expects me to do exactly as he would, and what worries me is that you expect it, too.  Today I’m just me, but tomorrow I’m supposed to suddenly measure up to that paragon of all virtue, Luke Skywalker.  And he’ll be watching.”

“Now you’re selling yourself short and exaggerating all at once.”  Malinza moved in front of him and cupped his face in her hands.  “I love you, you love me, and Uncle Luke just wants us to be happy together.  Surely we can manage that.”

“Sounds simple enough when you put it that way.”  Lio’s eyes dropped, distracted by the chain around her neck.  “What’s this?”

“It’s a lightsaber crystal,” Malinza explained, running it through her fingers again.  “Well, not really, not anymore.  Uncle Luke made it for me out of some sand from Yanumuso, just as a keepsake.”

Lio scoffed, no less exasperated than before.  “Great.  So now he’s also an alchemist who can forge jewelry out of a handful of dirt and sheer force of will.  How am I supposed to match that?  All I’ve got is money.”   

“You just be you,” Malinza insisted, a little exasperated herself.  “Stop being so intimidated.  He’s not trying to threaten you.”

“You didn’t hear what he said this afternoon.”

“Okay, so he’s not threatening you now.   Get a grip.  It’s not as though he’s going to be barging into the house every week wanting progress reports.”

The wry tilt of Lio’s brows betrayed the fact that he didn’t think the possibility so far-fetched.  He fingered her crystal suspiciously.  “There isn’t a tracker in here, is there?”

“Don’t be stupid!”  Malinza took a step back, choosing to be amused rather than offended, although it could have gone either way.  “Now you’re just looking for reasons to be unhappy.  This is a wedding, remember?” she said, throwing his own words back at him.  “We’re supposed to be smiling.”  

Lio pasted a completely fake smile across his face, making him look slightly deranged.  It made her laugh, which cheered him up.  He always enjoyed making her laugh.  “Okay,” he relented.  “I’ll stop sulking if you can stop Uncle Luke from taking another bite out of me.”  

Malinza turned up her nose in mock disgust.  “You’re such a baby.  I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.  Just fight back next time.  He’ll respect that.”

“Fight back?  He could make gelmeat out of me in two seconds.”  

“Yeah, but he won’t.   He doesn’t hate you, he just wants to see that you have some kind of a spine.  If you think he’s wrong to doubt you, then prove it.  He’ll be glad you did.”  

Lio considered that, but when he didn’t answer right away, Malinza let her face fall into a scowl.  “You do have one, right?”

He scowled right back, and then swept her off her feet and kissed her that way that always made the whole world disappear.

They held the ceremony in a formal reception room at the hotel, grand enough to withstand the complete lack of decorations stipulated by the ritual.  The Kedricks stood at one side, Laera and the Skywalkers at the other, all dressed in the complementary proportions of black and white requested of them.  

Madame Kedrick and Master Skywalker began the proceedings, she wearing a simple black cocktail dress beneath a white silk wrap, he a stark white Jedi tunic beneath a black robe.  Malinza couldn’t stop smiling as she and Lio were formally presented to one another, her blood pounding in her ears as they joined hands and locked eyes.  The whole thing felt like a dream.

Lio recited his vows first, although Malinza hardly heard them.  She knew very well what they said, but she was too happy in that moment to distinguish individual words.  Somehow she managed to remember her own vows when the time came, although afterward she could barely remember saying them.  

Then Luke and Jandra gently tied their hands with black and white tasseled cords, each pronouncing in turn their solemn acknowledgement that the spouses had been suitably sworn and bound in their presence.  Contrary to Mara’s prediction, she was the one surreptitiously brushing aside tears before they could ruin her cosmetics. 

The small band of metal Lio slipped on her finger felt heavier than she had expected, its mass outweighed by its significance.  Everything was changed, whole new horizons opening in front of them, and just as Uncle Luke had observed fourteen years before, Malinza was sure it would take her a while to get used to it.  She could feel him standing behind her, quietly glowing with pride as she continued climbing life’s interminable ladder.  She was sure her parents would have been glad he was there.  She was glad he was there.

She saw Lio’s eyes flick past her, and for a second she was afraid he saw it very differently, that he was unnerved by the specter of Luke looming over her shoulder.  Maybe he was.  But then his mouth turned up in a hesitant little smile, and she was satisfied that they had made their peace with one another.  

It was just the beginning of a new chapter in their lives, a new facet with a new family, still building their fortress out of the broken pieces the universe left for them.  

They hadn’t done half badly, Malinza decided, closing her eyes as Lio slid his hand into her hair and pulled her into a kiss.

Chapter Text

36 ABY, Salis D’aar, Bakura

Life truly did, as Mara often said, come at you fast.  Sometimes each day seemed interminable, but then suddenly Malinza would look up and realize several years had come and gone, and her whole life was different.  Every now and then, there came a moment that made time stop for a breath while reality realigned.  As she gathered baby Petra out of her cot and laid her in Uncle Luke’s arms, Malinza knew it was one of those moments.  

Luke embraced the sleeping infant with a forgotten confidence earned a decade before, but also as gently as if she were made of glass.  Already hormonal, it made Malinza misty-eyed with joy to watch her sponsor father fall so completely in love at first sight.  That was how she had always imagined it was supposed to be.  It finally satisfied that pit of doubt that had begun gnawing at her when she hadn’t received quite the same reaction from her husband or his family.  

“I just had my first child ten years ago,” Mara was protesting, hovering at Luke’s elbow and slinging aside joyful tears of her own.  “I am not ready to be a grandmother!”  

Ben laughed.  “Hey, does this make me an uncle?” he asked.  

Luke looked up at Malinza and smiled that strange smile again, so melancholy and so happy all at once.  “She’s beautiful,” he said.  “You named her for your father?”

Malinza nodded.  “I’ve been trying to know him better, at least as well as I can.  I’ve had to drag up a bunch of old news holos and military records, but that’s better than nothing.”

Luke’s melancholy sharpened for a moment, for her sake.  “I know what you mean,” he said.  “That’s exactly how I got to know my father, back before he was Vader, the way I’d rather remember him.  There were days when I’d put a whole string of clipped files from the Clone Wars on repeat and just disappear for a few hours.”  

Still unreasonably sensitive and emotional, Malinza nodded again, reminded of how much she and Luke unexpectedly had in common.  Parenthood had brought with it an entirely new appreciation for family and the tragedy of what might have been, and she could only assume he’d had the same experience.  Although they seemed completely different at first blush, Malinza felt a very real kinship with the Skywalkers she had yet to replicate with her new family.  She was so very glad to see them.  

“And now he’s finally able to do the same with his mother,” Mara said, reaching across Luke to stroke Petra’s bold shock of black hair.  “Fortunately, Amidala left enough of a media trail to keep him occupied for a long time.”  

The reminder that Luke had finally found his mother beyond all hope did nothing to steady Malinza’s emotions.  She was very happy for him, but at the same time was reminded of her vague and inadequate memories of her own mother.  She had spent many tearful hours in the deep of the night watching every public address Prime Minister Captison had ever recorded, just trying to somehow make her present again.  Imagining Luke doing the same was going to break her if she dwelt on it.  “How was your visit to Naboo?” she asked, trying to sound conversational.  “I watched the promotional vids from their tourism bureau, and it looks heavenly.”

“They weren’t lying,” Luke assured her.  “Part of me wishes we could have stayed there.”

“We met a bunch of cousins we didn’t know we had,” Ben interjected, “and everybody wanted to see Dad because all these years nobody was supposed to think Senator Amidala’s baby was still alive, but they were able to prove it with a blood test.  Aunt Leia snuck in and out to see Cousin Pooja before we got there so she wouldn’t have to deal with all the fuss.  Pooja’s son died during the Vong war, but his kids are my age—Darred and Ruwee—and we’re going to have them over to visit Coruscant.  I’m supposed to show them the Jedi Temple because they showed us around Theed Royal Palace.”  

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun,” Malinza observed, finally able to manage a genuine smile.  “It’s good to have new family, especially if they can also be new friends.”  

“There’s enough there to keep us going back for years,” Mara agreed.

“I want to go back already,” Luke said.  “It would be great if you and Lio could go with us.”

“Where is Lio?” Mara asked, as if she had just noticed he was missing.  

“Working,” Malinza said, hoping that would suffice.  “They’ve been swamped lately.  He’ll be back for dinner.”

At least, she hoped he’d be back.  It wasn’t uncommon recently for Lio to be out late.  He wasn’t adapting to the gritty realities of fatherhood as well as Malinza had hoped he would, but she wasn’t ready to talk about it, especially not to Luke and Mara.  She had reminded Lio of the Skywalkers’ arrival, and had assumed he would at least show his face in the evenings and be a gracious host, but it also wouldn’t surprise her if he pled forgetfulness and stayed out with his friends just to avoid them.  She had never pressed the issue, but Malinza knew Lio was still intimidated by Luke, a complication that wasn’t helped by Luke’s recent elevation to the dignity of Grand Master and his very effective performance during the Swarm War.  An argument for another day.

Fortunately, everyone was too besotted with Petra to give her absent father another thought.  She was finally awake, peering up from beneath her heavy eyelids at the blur of unfamiliar faces above her.  She didn’t panic and cry, as Malinza had expected she might.  Apparently that reassuring aura of warmth and safety hadn’t been just a figment of her own childhood imagination.  A toothless grin spread across Petra’s round little face, and she let loose a wet gurgle that was her best attempt at a laugh.  They all laughed with her.  

“Come on,” Mara pleaded, holding out her hands.  “You’ve had her for ages.  Let me have a turn!”

“No.”   Luke playfully held Petra closer, shielding her with his shoulder and blocking Mara’s advances.  “No!  Get off.  She gave her to me!  She’s mine!”  

Petra gasp-gurgled some more, not understanding the commotion, but enjoying all the attention.  Malinza laughed, too, unexpectedly fulfilled in some very fundamental ways.  This was what family was supposed to feel like.  Her expectations hadn’t been unreasonable after all.  

It probably wasn’t Lio’s fault that he didn’t know his way around a baby.  He had no siblings, and his mother’s idea of childcare had been to give him to the nanny as a newborn and not bother much about him until he was old enough to be interesting.  Lio had already confessed that he had expected Malinza to do the same.  In his mind, Petra was a necessary inconvenience, an investment in the future that would accrue value in the care of her nurse until she was ready to be a part of society.  He was outspokenly disappointed that their lives hadn’t returned to “normal” yet.  

Malinza had deeply resented that remark, but she had taken a deep breath and let it pass.  It wasn’t his fault, she reasoned.  That was all he knew.  But no matter how she tried to spin it to herself, her respect for her husband had taken a nasty knock.  Malinza felt herself moving forward into another stage of life, still climbing that ladder of adulthood and responsibility.  Lio seemed to want to regress back into the comfortable honeymoon phase when it had been nothing but entertainment and good times.  But that wasn’t reality.  

Yesterday, he had accused her of not being the same person she used to be, that she had no energy or time for him anymore, that she was distracted, preoccupied, and boring.  Cut to the heart, Malinza had agreed.  She was a mother now, and nothing would ever be exactly the same again.  Lio hadn’t taken kindly to her pointed reminder that he was also a father, and should start acting like one.  They hadn’t had a chance yet to resolve that conversation, and it still stung.  The fact that she had already seen more emotional investment from Luke and Mara in the last ten minutes than from all the Kedricks in three whole months only deepened her resentment.  

Still, she was determined not to say anything.  Not yet.  She didn’t want to be that wife who was always running back to her formidable sponsor parents with complaints about her husband’s shortcomings.  She had told Laera, but Laera was very discreet.  

Luke did eventually let Mara hold Petra, and even Ben had a chance to properly introduce himself.  There was no question that they all considered her one of their own, that they would fight, kill, or die for her if they had to.  It was a fierce, all-or-nothing commitment Malinza could appreciate after enduring the tepid ambivalence of everyone else.  

“Come on, Ben,” Mara finally said, passing the now slightly fussy baby back to Malinza.  “Let’s go get unpacked and moved in.”

“Ugh,” Ben grunted.  “I hate unpacking.”

“Well, so do I, but living out of luggage is even worse, and we do it too often.  Let Malinza talk to your father.  It does them both good.”

Luke waved after them.  “Thanks for letting us use the guest suite,” he said.

“Of course,” Malinza insisted, shifting Petra in her arms and leading Luke outside into the garden.  “What’s the point of having a guest suite if you never put guests in it?  Besides, we just renovated it with you all in mind.”

The weather was mild, the first sign that the seasons were changing, but Malinza had always loved the gardens regardless.  Petra quieted a bit, soothed by the sounds and smells of the outdoors, but she was hungry, and there was nothing to do but oblige her.  

Being back there with him was a strange feeling, as Malinza had expected it to be.  After the wedding, she had officially taken possession of her childhood home, opening the place to new life and new memories.  She and Luke had met in those gardens when she had been just four years old, almost twenty years before.  Many things had changed, but some things never would.

They sat down in the shade of the airy pavilion Malinza had installed across from her parents’ gravesite.  It was very comfortably furnished, her retreat within a retreat, and she happily drew her legs up and settled into the corner of her favorite chaise to nurse Petra back to sleep.  

“How do you like being back?” Luke asked.  

“It feels right,” Malinza told him.  “I’m glad Laera was able to hold onto it.  It feels like life coming full circle somehow.”

“They do say life is made of patterns if you know how to see them.”  

“I like being reminded of my mother,” Malinza confessed, deciding to be perfectly honest.  “I know she isn’t really here, but living here seems like the next best arrangement, surrounded by memories of her, her house, her things.  Lio wasn’t going to live here without a renovation, but we were able to keep most of what I wanted.  The rest is in storage.”

Luke was quiet for a while.  He started to say several things, but changed his mind each time.  “Yeah,” he finally said.  “It’s something.”  

Malinza thought she could guess what was weighing on him.  “So,” she said, “how have you been?  After a lifetime, this sort of fell into your lap out of nowhere.  Was Theed worth the trip?”

“It was worth every minute,” Luke insisted.  “But you’re right.  After so many years of nothing, suddenly we’re drowning in information.  Archives, holos, monuments, relics, relatives.  It was a little overwhelming, but good.  It did help to be on her homeworld, to visit the palace, see her tomb, meet her sister.  It helped me understand myself a little better.”

Malinza smiled.  “I’m glad you know her name now,” she said.  “It broke my little heart to think you didn’t.”

“Yes, we have a name now,” Luke agreed, smiling too, “and a face, and a good chunk of the history.  Artoo has a voyeuristic streak I never really appreciated before.  Always watching.  Makes me wonder if I shouldn’t pin him down and plug him in to see what secret recordings he might have of me.”

It was an amusing thought.  Malinza suspected it would probably be polite to leave it at that, to change the subject and let the rest lie.  After all, she wasn’t entitled to Luke’s private thoughts, and the whole experience of finding his lost family on Naboo had to be as deeply personal as anything she could possibly imagine.  Still, the new challenges of motherhood and her recent conflict with Lio had left her wondering obsessively about the way infants perceived the world, how much they could possibly know and understand.  He had always encouraged her to ask in the past.

It was probably an unfair and impractical question, but she chanced it anyway.  Something told her a Jedi might have more command over his own subconscious realities than the average person.  

“Did you remember anything?” she asked.

Luke didn’t answer right away.  He looked at her, then at Petra contentedly suckling and dozing, and he seemed to recognize why she wanted to know.  “I didn’t think I would,” he admitted.  “I don’t think anyone is functionally conscious of his foundational memories in day-to-day life, but if I’ve learned anything over the past few months, it’s how much those foundations influence who we become.  Infants are meant to be bonded to their mothers, to know them on a biological level much more fundamental than memory.  You can’t deprive them of that and expect it won’t do damage.”

He hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully.  “I’d always said I had no memory of my mother,” he began, “but now that all this has come out, and Mara’s helped me with some intense memory dredging, I realize I do remember her, not as a person but as a reality.  She was the whole world.  I knew her voice, her patterns of speech, the way she walked, the way she felt.   She was everything, every rhythm of our existence.  And then she was gone.  I essentially lost my whole family the day I was born, and that left a hole in me I’ve been trying to patch ever since.  That feeling of not being complete, of never belonging, that restless conviction that I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, that was all my subconscious mind trying to make sense of the day everything disappeared.”  He finished with an apathetic shrug.  “It makes sense now, but doesn’t really change anything.  It’s hard to overwrite something that happened so early in your life.”

Malinza frowned, ready to make a few admissions.  “I don’t think Lio understands that,” she said.  “He doesn’t think there’s anything I can do for Petra that her nurse can’t do better, especially since we’re already paying for her.  But I can’t really blame him for that, because that’s what his mother did with him.”  

A frown and a flash of alarm passed across Luke’s face as well, not without a twinge of sympathy.  “Poor kid,” he said.  “He doesn’t even realize what he missed.  No offense to nurses, aunts, or adoptive parents, but for a child there’s no real substitute for mother.  Trust me, Petra can tell the difference.”

Petra was asleep now, not a care in the world, nestled as near her mother’s heart as she could possibly be.  Once again, Malinza’s instincts hadn’t been wrong.  Of course this was important, one of the most important relationships of her life.  It pained her that Lio couldn’t see it.  They would have to talk about that, just as soon as they had their home to themselves again.  

It was nice that silence was never awkward between her and Luke.  He brought a peace with him that wasn’t entirely natural, no doubt the product of a lifetime of meditation and harsh perspective.  He also seemed extraordinarily conscious of those timeless moments that set life back in order, and Malinza actually wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he could conjure them at will.  She was deeply grateful for his insights, and would always admire the way he seemed able to take his own tragedies and bleed them to benefit the people around him.  

“Thanks,” she said, hoping he understood how much she meant it.  “I want Petra to know you, too, so I’ll expect you to keep coming by.  Sorry if you weren’t quite ready to be a grandfather, but it is what it is.”

Luke laughed, and then shrugged.  “It is what it is,” he agreed.  “Considering that she produced offspring seventeen years before I did, Leia is going to be extremely jealous.  I wouldn’t change it for anything, but you certainly aren’t making me feel any younger.”  

Malinza wrinkled her nose.  “But they say children are supposed to keep you young.”

“They’re lying,” Luke insisted with a grin, “or else they just aren’t familiar with our family.  I feel like Ben and the twins take at least five years off my life every other week.”  

No doubt that was because he cared so much.  “We’ll try to be less dramatic,” Malinza promised.  “Come see us whenever you need a second to breathe.”  

His smile softened.  Luke appreciated the invitation, but he was still a realist about how often he would be able to tear himself away from his work.  That was one of those things that had never changed, a reality that had persisted since the first days of their relationship.  He seemed destined to forever wander the galaxy while she would always belong on Bakura.  Lio might not be opposed to travel, but Malinza doubted he would be enthusiastic about accepting the risk and expense of interplanetary flight to visit the Skywalkers.  Maybe she could wear him down.  It felt important.

Just when she was convinced he had come empty-handed, Luke slid her a sly look and rummaged in his pocket.  “Brought you a piece of Naboo,” he said, handing her a smooth riverstone.  “Picked it up beside the lake at Varykino.  That’s the Naberrie family estate, and the closest thing to a tangible paradise I’ve ever seen.”

Malinza reached to accept it, careful not to wake Petra, and covering her appreciation with a smirk.  “Married with children,” she observed, “and you’re still bringing me rocks as if I’m ten years old.”

Luke arched an eyebrow, calling her bluff.  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

She shook her head, forced to admit otherwise.  “No.  You have to give them to me, or else they don’t qualify for the collection.”  

“Sure to be priceless someday,” he said dryly.

A grin spread across Malinza’s face as she recognized the irony.  She knew there wasn’t a fortune to be made being a Jedi Master, and that the Skywalkers lived mostly on the dividends from Mara’s former life and whatever Luke’s creativity and goodwill could drag out of the universe.  At the same time, she knew the significant relics of his life would indeed be priceless someday, and her motley assortment of pebbles with his handwritten notes and labels might be no exception.  They were certainly priceless to her, as was everything he had ever given her.  

“You just have that magic touch, I guess,” she said as she reflected on all the ways he had altered the course of her life for the better, and Malinza was gratified to see that Luke understood she wasn’t just talking about her rock collection.  

Chapter Text

40 ABY, Salis D’aar, Bakura

“Madame Kedrick, Petra is ready for bed now.”

Malinza put down her datapad and rubbed her temples, trying to will away a budding headache.  Never a dull moment in the diplomatic service, even for those in the junior roles.  The new conflict churning between Corellia and the Galactic Alliance was foremost on everyone’s mind, and the miserable cycle of civil war seemed to be looming again.  She tried to put all that aside for at least a few moments, for Petra’s sake.  “Thank you, Trilla.  I’ll be right there.”

Petra was indeed ready for bed, prancing around in her new nightgown, her long black curls bouncing with life of their own.  “Mommy!  Where’s Keekee?”

Malinza managed to force a smile.  “She’s wherever you left her.  Where did you take her today?”

Petra blinked.  “Everywhere!”

That was probably true.  Keekee was a stuffed Wookiee toy with whimsically floppy arms and legs that Petra couldn’t do without, a gift from Luke and Mara for her second birthday.  After two years of full-time love, companionship, and laundering, poor Keekee was looking her age, but was no less the favorite.  It gave Malinza hope that Petra wasn’t absorbing the materialistic attitudes of her extended family.  Grandma Jandra had been caught trying to quietly dispose of Keekee in the past, but Malinza had rescued the toy from the garbage in Jandra’s presence with a cheerfully passive-aggressive admonition to Petra to be more careful lest such a terrible accident ever happen again.  She suspected there was some resentment at play there, as Petra had never seemed half so entranced by any of the expensive baubles the Kedricks showered on her.  

“I think you left Keekee on the stairs,” Trilla suggested, and Petra bounded away to collect her.

Malinza followed, climbing the staircase toward her old room, Petra’s nursery, to tuck her daughter in to sleep.  The job was already as good as done when she got there, as Petra had already jumped into bed and drawn the blanket over her head, giggling.  

The child’s innocence was a welcome contrast to all the gnarly problems swirling in her head, and Malinza was happy to play along.  She whipped the blanket down with flourish.  “Found you!”

Petra shrieked with delight, but quickly calmed.  “Mommy,” she said, “why wasn’t Daddy here tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Malinza said, and it was the truth.  She never knew where Lio was anymore.

Petra frowned.  “He’s gone a lot.”

“I know, baby.”

“Is he busy at work?”

“I think so.”  That was not the truth, but the child didn’t need to know that.

Her little face fell even further, clutching Keekee to her chest.  “I wish we could see Auntie Laera again.”

“I know,” Malinza agreed, swallowing her own grief.  Laera had died in her sleep only a month ago, not completely unexpectedly, but too soon for those who loved her.  “Me, too.”

Then Petra brightened.  “Can we call Uncle Luke?”

“Baby, it’s bedtime—”

“Tomorrow?”

Malinza sighed.  She hated to say no, but the adult world was unforgiving.  “Not tomorrow,” she said.  “Uncle Luke is busy with his work, too.  But he’s supposed to call us next week.  It’s on the schedule.  He promised.”

Petra sighed, too, unsatisfied but resigned.  “Okay.”  

There already seemed to be more disappointment in Petra’s young life than Malinza would have hoped, but at least she was learning to handle it well.  “Good night, baby,” she said, leaning down to leave a kiss on her forehead.  “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Mommy.”

The house was almost completely quiet as Malinza closed the nursery door and stood for a while in the hallway.  She could hear Trilla doing a final clean through the kitchen before retiring for the night, but otherwise the place was as good as dead.  Dead like her parents.  Dead like Laera.

She had moved her family into that house to give it new life, but it hadn’t turned out the way she had expected.  It was like living in a mausoleum, a monument to fond memories and a failing marriage devoid of all real feeling.  Lio didn’t bother to join them for supper more than three times a week on average, and it had probably been at least three days since Petra had even seen him.  The thought was making her angry as she dwelt on it, inflaming the festering canker of her own disappointment that had been compounding over four years.  Suddenly she was second-guessing her decision to pass on the opportunity she had been offered to join the Coruscant team.  Fingering her hololocket, Malinza briefly imagined the possibility of almost daily family dinners with Luke and Mara, and just felt sick.  

She had finished a glass of wine, put her work away, and was ready to call it a night when Lio finally came home two hours later.  “Oh, hi, Lin,” he said, sounding mildly surprised as he entered their bedroom and dumped his stuff in the repulsor chair.  “Thought you’d be asleep.  How was work?”

“It was fine,” Malinza said, knowing he wasn’t listening for details.  He always asked, but he was never really present anymore.  Then, wondering what kind of reaction she would get, she decided to mention her possible transfer.  “Ambassador Dioscoro thinks I’d be a good fit for the Coruscant team.”

Lio scowled, confused.  “Why?” he asked, shedding his tailored business suit.  “Our lives are here.”

“Are they?”  Malinza kept her tone level.  She wasn’t trying to start an argument, but somebody had to say something.  They should have hashed this out years ago.  “It seems like you’re never here, that you don’t want to be here.  Petra was asking about you tonight because the poor thing hasn’t seen you for days.”

He waved that aside with a discernible glimmer of remorse.  “I know, I know,” he said, “and I’m sorry about that.  I brought a present for her to make up for it.”

“She doesn’t want toys,” Malinza insisted, “she wants you.”

“Okay,” Lio conceded, “then I’ll bring her somewhere.  She still likes to feed the fish, right?  Tell Trilla to bring her to the gardens tomorrow around noon and I’ll meet them.”

Malinza rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.  She knew or suspected where most of her husband’s spare time went, but apparently the best their daughter could hope for was a last-minute lunch outing.  The two of them barely had a relationship.  

He disappeared into the ‘fresher for a shower.  Malinza toyed with the idea of staying up late just to avoid him, but part of her was ready for the overdue confrontation.  She was angry enough to welcome a fight, but still level-headed enough to be diplomatic.  

Then she heard his comlink buzzing, buried in the pocket of his discarded jacket.  An impulse of vicious curiosity made her check it.  It was a simple message, no worse than she had expected— HAD A GREAT TIME TONIGHT, MIGHT EVEN WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN— but it was the name on the display that raised her hackles.  What were the odds?  Feeling uncharacteristically aggressive, she decided to stir the stingnat’s nest by calling back.

“Calling already?” a sensuous voice answered.  “I thought you’d in all decency wait until morning.”

“Axella,” Malinza demanded, “what is the nature of your relationship with my husband?”

Axella didn’t end the call, but she was quiet for a full minute.  “Hey, Malinza,” she finally said, cool and casual.  “It’s been a while.  And I think you already know the nature of our relationship.  Easy come, easy go.”

Before she could phrase a coherent reply, the comlink flashed in her hand, notifying her the call had ended.  Malinza resisted the urge to smash the damn thing against the wall—she had been practicing that elusive virtue of patience—and instead tossed it back into the mess on the chair.  She had known Lio was sneakily getting his needs met elsewhere, had known it for years, but this was the final insult.  He probably didn’t even realize it.  

By the time he came out wrapped in a towel, she’d had time to formulate her plan of attack.  “You made quite an impression on Axella,” Malinza said, as conversationally as possible.  “Think you’ll see her again?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, sounding undecided, but then he stiffened and all his color drained.  He visibly debated his next words.  “Listen, it’s not what you think.”

Malinza glared at him, tired and disgusted.  “It’s exactly what I think.  Just a bit of fun, nothing to get upset about, nothing that will last, just like all the others you’ve bumped into over the years.  I know you’ve been putting it out there like a rutting womp rat ever since Petra was born, but did you really have to sell me out to my prep school bully?”

“I’m sorry,” Lio insisted, and he did seem a bit mortified.  “She came onto me, but if I’d known you knew her, I’d have passed.”

“So considerate of you.”

“I promise I won’t see her again.  Malinza, I’m not trying to hurt you.”

She actually believed him, but that didn’t change anything.  “Well, Lio, you are.  I know I’m not completely blameless in this dysfunctional mess of ours, but I can’t live like this anymore.  So, what are we going to do about it?  Is it worth saving?”

Lio seemed taken aback, caught without a ready answer.  “Are you saying you want us to find a counselor, or something like that?”

Malinza threw her hands up.  “Maybe.  Why not?  We can start there if you want, but it’s not just us.  It’s you.   It’s your parents, and the culture they live in!  It disgusts me!  Did you know your mother knows you’ve been sneaking around?  I didn’t tell her, but her idea of being helpful was to introduce me to a cadre of eager consolation prizes, some of them better-looking than you.”

He grimaced.  “That does sound extremely awkward,” he admitted.  “I’m sure she meant well.  She and Dad have always had their little flings on the side, and it doesn’t bother anybody so long as home is neutral ground.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Malinza said.  “I don’t want that, but I’ve been living it for four years, waiting for you to show any indication that you cared enough about your family to invest any time in it!”

Stung, Lio’s expression hardened.  “I invest a lot in my family,” he insisted.  “I haven’t withheld anything from you, your name’s on everything we own, and Petra will be well provided for.  That’s more than you’ve done for me.  I notice you’ve never offered me a share of this house.”

“I didn’t think you cared!” Malinza protested.  It seemed like such an insignificant detail, it hadn’t even crossed her mind.  “I assumed you were only living here as a favor to me, or at least that’s what your behavior suggested.”

“And whose fault is that?” Lio demanded, throwing on his nightclothes.  “You shut me out.  You act like you care more about people who are dead or absent than you do about me, and I’m right here.”

“But you’re not here!”

“Because you don’t want me here!  Malinza, we used to do everything together.  It was great, we were in love, and we had fun.  Then you just dropped me and disappeared into your own little world.  What was I supposed to do?”

“I didn’t drop you,” Malinza countered, “we had a child!  We did!  You were supposed to be a part of that, but you opted out.”

“You’re the one who insisted on being so involved,” Lio maintained.  “I waited all those months when you didn’t feel like going out anymore, and then I waited another four months while you recovered.  I was lonely.  I wanted you back, but you had your baby and weren’t interested in me anymore.”

Just hearing it put into words infuriated her.  “That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard!” Malinza shouted, all her diplomacy failing her.  “You’re still going to make me choose between you and our child?  You aren’t the center of any universe, Lio!  Life is about hard work sometimes, and I’m sick of waiting for you to finally grow up and think about someone other than yourself!”

Lio sneered.  “I was good enough for you once,” he said.

“Never quite good enough,” Malinza quipped, “but that’s my own fault.  I wanted to think the best of you, in spite of everything, because I was young and stupid, and I loved you.  Uncle Luke could smell the pathetic on you within the first five minutes.  He tried to warn me, and now I wish I’d listened!”

Towering over her in a fume of anger that caught her off-guard, Lio closed his fist around her hololocket.  “I don’t want to hear any more about Uncle Luke,” he growled.  Then he ripped the chain off her neck and tossed the whole thing into the datacard shredder.

Malinza shrieked as the rotating blades chewed and caught on the metal.  “Why?” she screamed, suddenly wracked with sobs as she tried to pry what was left out of the mechanism.  “Why would you do that?  What’s wrong with you!”

Lio had gone quiet, surprised at himself and by her sudden flood of emotion.  “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding numb.  “I’ll get you another one.”

“You can’t!” Malinza spat through her tears.  “You can’t!   That’s what none of you understand!  Sure, you can get a holochip of Luke Skywalker anywhere, but it won’t be the one my mother had!  You could buy me another locket, but it won’t be the one Laera gave me!  It was irreplaceable, and you took it from me!”

“They’re just things,” Lio insisted awkwardly.  “You shouldn’t get so hung up on things.”

“It’s not about the things,” Malinza persisted, “it’s about a connection to people.  You’ve never let anyone get close enough to you to be irreplaceable, have you?  Everything casual, everything disposable, just vehicles for your own amusement.  You’re afraid of commitment!”

Lio scoffed.  “Afraid?  I married you, didn’t I?”

“And then you replaced me the minute you weren’t having fun anymore!”

“You were not replaced,” he insisted.  “I’d have never left you.  We made a legal agreement, and I’ll always honor those terms.”

“What good is that?  I didn’t marry you for your money, and if that’s all you’re offering me, I’d rather you left!”

“Well, that’s harsh.  What do you want from me?”

“What do I—?”  Malinza threw up her hands again, so exasperated that she couldn’t form words for a moment.  “I want someone who wants me,” she said at last.  “I want a partner in life, someone who’s happy to come home every day, someone who appreciates being a father, someone I can rely on, someone I can laugh and cry with, someone who understands me, who loves us enough to sacrifice his own happiness from time to time, someone—”

“—like Luke,” Lio finished for her, a withering expression on his face.  “Go on, just say it.”  

Malinza drew herself up, cold and disgusted again.  “Why are you so threatened by him?  Are you really that insecure?”

“That has nothing to do with it.  You’ve got an unhealthy obsession with him, always holding him over my head as an ideal I can’t hope to meet.  You’re just looking for a reason for me to fail, and that’s not fair.  Besides, I don’t like him.  I don’t want to be around him, any of them.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re killers,” Lio said, finally telling her what he really thought.  “They give me the creeps.  How many people has Luke personally snuffed out by now?  A few million, give or take?  I don’t enjoy sitting across from someone who knows the most efficient way to separate my vertebrae.”

“They’re soldiers,” Malinza corrected him sharply, “and I’m sorry their professional competence makes you uncomfortable.  My father was a military man, too.  Would you have felt the same way about him?”

“Probably,” Lio confessed.  

Malinza just nodded, angry, disappointed, her opinion of him shrinking by the moment.  “Then you’re even more pathetic than I thought.  You’re a pathetic, shallow, overgrown child, and that’s why you’re threatened.  You hate Luke because he’s everything you’ll never be, because he’s selfless, brave, and heroic, while you’re just a society brat who hasn’t had to endure a minute of hardship in your entire life!”

“Heroism is overrated,” Lio snapped back.  “What has heroism ever gotten your precious Grand Master Skywalker?  A lifetime of misery, a face full of scars, an insultingly small compensation rate, and the same government that watched him burn eternally demanding a repeat performance.  He barely has a home of his own.  I have a comfortable life, can afford anything I want, and keep my wife and child in luxury, so how am I the loser in this equation?”  

Was that really what he told himself?  “There’s nothing impressive about what you do, Lio,” Malinza said, keen to disabuse him of his delusions of superiority.  “You might look like you have it all, but scratch the surface and underneath you’re just afraid.  You’re a coward in an expensive suit who couldn’t defend anything if your life depended on it!”

He caught her wrist in a vice grip, years of resentment smoldering behind his eyes.  “I think that’s enough, Malinza,” he said.  “If that’s how you really feel, maybe I should go elsewhere tonight.”

She wrenched away, more furious by the moment.  “Fine!  Go!  Run away like you always do, and maybe don’t bother coming back!  Crawl back to Axella and see if she’ll have you.  And, yes, that’s how I really feel.  I don’t know what possessed me to marry into a family as grotesque as yours!”   She followed as he gathered his things, fulminating at his back.  “Your mother is a debauched she-cratsch, your father is a feckless invertebrate, and you’re the worst disappointment of a husband I could ever imagine!  If you were even half the man Luke is, you would have—!”

The sudden impact against her face spun her around, and it took a painful moment for her to comprehend that he had actually backhanded her.  There was blood in her mouth, and so much adrenaline in her veins that she felt weak.  Lio slapped her again, and then Mara’s voice was in her head, as calm and dispassionate as a dream.

Palm strike, power from the hips, drive with the elbow . . .

Lio crumpled to the floor, coughing and gasping.  Malinza stood over him, trembling with rage and grief, unable to quite accept what had just happened.  

“Get out of my house!” she screamed, pointing the way, ready to start sobbing again.  

A week later, exactly as scheduled, Malinza was waiting at the holoport with Petra on her lap.  It had been one of the bleakest and yet probably one of the most momentous weeks of her life, and she had been desperately looking forward to this call.  Fortunately, all the momentous happenings had played out quietly in third party arbitration and official court filings, all too quietly for Petra to notice.  Someday Malinza would have to explain it all to her, but for now they were focused on happier things.  They had to find them where they could.

The incoming chime energized Petra all over again.  “I push it!” she demanded, and Malinza let her press the button and accept the call.  The image that shimmered and resolved itself on the monitor was exactly what Petra had been hoping to see, and it did Malinza good to see her so happy.  “Uncle Luke!” she said, incandescent with excitement to share their secret.  “Guess what!  We’re coming to Cor-sant!”

Whatever pleasantries Luke had planned died on his tongue.  He wasn’t upset, just very surprised.  “Are you really?” he asked, his eyes flicking past her to Malinza.

“Really,” Malinza confirmed, nodding.

“Mommy’s got a new job, and we’ll see you and Aunt Mara every day!” Petra gushed.  “Is that okay?”

“Every day?”   Luke playfully matched her energy, but there was a suspicious tilt to his brow that implied he had many questions already.  “That sounds great!  Maybe your mommy will let you stay at our house for an evening or two, and we can keep you up late playing Ben’s old podracer game.”

Petra giggled.  “I like playing with Ben.”

Luke’s smile faltered, but he managed to hang onto it.  “We’ll see if Ben can come home when you visit,” he said.

“Come home?” Malinza repeated, wanting some clarification on that point.

“Ben’s moved out,” Luke explained, not quite able to feign enthusiasm anymore.  “He’s staying with Jacen.  It’s . . . it’s a recent development.”

“He’s thirteen,” Malinza protested, already able to imagine how quickly Laera would have slapped down any suggestion that she had been ready to leave home at that age.

“I know it.”   The arrangement didn’t seem to sit well with him.  “Ben’s a reluctant Jedi at best, and trying to find his feet in my shadow hasn’t been easy for him.  He wants space, and we’re giving him some, experimentally.”

“Oh.”  Everybody had problems, Malinza supposed.  She wasn’t going to try inserting herself into them.  She had enough problems of her own.

She let Petra talk to Luke, watching as the child demanded his full attention, chattering about all her imaginary plans, whatever passed for gossip in a four-year-old’s world, how they were preparing for the move, and what she’d had for breakfast that morning.  She proudly showed him her recent artwork, and the new clothes they had bought for Keekee.  It struck Malinza in a very poignant way, remembering that she had been the same age when her family had come apart and Luke had done everything he could to fill the breach.  Part of her felt very guilty for expecting him to do the same for her daughter, but the rest of her was extremely grateful that he could.  

“You know,” Luke finally said when he could get a word in edgewise, “Wookiees don’t really wear clothes.”

“Keekee does,” Petra insisted.  “Keekee has lots of clothes.”

“Well, good for her.  Keekee will have to give us a fashion show when you get here.”

Trilla appeared in the doorway, as instructed, ready to take Petra to bed.  The idea of going to sleep held no appeal for the girl whatsoever, but a firm word from Luke and a reminder that he would see her soon cut her protest short.  Being nearer them would certainly do the child good, Malinza was sure.  Having a few extra parental figures on hand couldn’t hurt.

When they were finally alone, neither one of them could maintain the false cheer anymore.  Malinza felt her shoulders droop, and Luke slumped in his chair.  She couldn’t help but notice that he already looked older and grayer than he had the last time they had talked.  The political atmosphere over the capital must be even thicker than she had thought.

“She’s a cutie,” he said, recovering a bit.  “She looks just like you did when we met.”

“She’s very excited about being closer to you all,” Malinza admitted, “and so am I, to be honest.  I still can’t believe we’re actually leaving.  Where’s Mara?”

“Mara’s doing what she does best,” Luke explained with a weary sigh, “which is covering for me.  Chief Omas wants my head because I claimed an unbreakable social engagement and refused to be dragged out to a last-minute state function.  Mara went as my official representative, and he can take her or leave her.”

Malinza smirked, knowing how that casual defiance at the highest levels would scandalize her professional colleagues.  “And what was so important that you thought it worth blowing off the executive of the entire Galactic Alliance?”

He smiled.  “Sitting here and talking to you, of course.  I promised.  It was scheduled.”

After years of neglect, a gesture like that was almost enough to break her heart.  Malinza was determined not to waste any time crying about it, but it still caught her right in all her raw emotions.  “I appreciate it,” she managed to say.

“I was sorry to hear about Laera.”

Malinza nodded.  There wasn’t much else to say.  “She was remarkable.  That woman could always bring me back down to earth with a word.  Twenty-seven years old, and she was still calling me ‘child.’”

Luke scoffed.  “I’m pushing sixty, and Han still calls me ‘kid.’  Some things you just can’t escape.”

She thought she could hear some regret in his tone.  “How are you all holding up?” she asked, meaning the Corellian problem.  “I imagine it can’t be easy for you.”

“It’s putting a unique strain on the family, that’s for sure.”   He was trying to sound casual, but he looked deadly serious.  “I was too young and isolated to have many friends on the other side during the war with the Empire, but it seems like everybody knows at least a few Corellians.  I have friends—close friends—who are either just keeping their heads down for now or actively planning on siding against the GA if it comes to open war.  I’m sworn to defend this government, Han’s pulling away, and Leia’s caught between us.  We’re forced to keep official secrets from each other, and I hate it.  It just really is the last thing we need right now, especially when Ben’s suddenly determined to grow up overnight, and I’m having some serious reservations about his cousin’s influence on him.”

Malinza offered a sympathetic frown.  “Well, I’m sorry to drag even more drama into the mix, but Lio and I are finalizing our divorce.”

Broadsided again, Luke leaned forward and planted his elbows on the table.  “What?  Why?”

She waved away the sordid details.  “I didn’t want to tell you, but it’s been bad for years.  You were right, you were right about him from the beginning.  He essentially checked out after Petra was born, and hasn’t been much more than a financial support ever since.  Last week I finally confronted him about it, we had a huge argument, he got violent, so I decked him and kicked him out.”

“Violent?”   All that existential fatigue seemed to evaporate as Luke’s body realigned into a more militant posture.  “Did he hit you?”

“Stand down, Uncle Luke,” Malinza insisted.  “I dealt with it.  I heard he was up all night getting screened for a concussion, and I haven’t been in the same room with him since.  Both of us just want a clean break, so we agreed to an equal division of assets with no ongoing obligations.”

Luke blinked a few times while he processed the implications of what she was saying.  “No ongoing obligations,” he repeated, as if to be certain he’d heard correctly.  “He gave up Petra?”

The scandalized disbelief in his voice just confirmed Malinza in her own opinions, and she was finally forced to blink away a tear or two.  The idea that any father could so easily disown his baby girl was monstrous, but at the same time she appreciated having the freedom to turn that page in their lives.  It was disgusting, but also very convenient.  “He made it clear that if I was leaving, he didn’t want us turning up unannounced ever again.  We’re taking back the name Thanas.  If he wants to completely disappear from our lives, so be it.”

Luke’s disbelief slid into pity, and then turned dark and ugly.  “No,” he finally decided, palms on the table, “I shouldn’t say it.”

“You didn’t have to say it,” Malinza assured him with a mirthless grin.  “I saw it.  But let’s not dwell on him any more.  I’m sorry.  I should have listened.  It was my own fault from the beginning.”

“Well, if you’d asked me before filing all the requisite forms, I’d have suggested that you take a bit more time and see if there was any way for the two of you to reconcile.  But considering how eagerly he cut all ties, I guess there wasn’t much there to salvage.  I’m sorry.  You deserve better.”

“Maybe,” Malinza allowed, “but I seem to always be getting in my own way.  Maybe my attempts at true love just aren’t destined to turn out as well as yours did.”

He frowned in the softest way possible.  “Hey, don’t say that,” he protested.  “You’re still young.  You’ve got time.  You’re not allowed to despair until you’re at least seventy.  In the meantime, get out here and enjoy a change of scenery before a new war kriffs it all up.  Tell me about this new job.”

“Ambassador Dioscoro selected me for the Coruscant team,” Malinza explained.  “I’ll be part of her personal staff, and unofficially a kind of understudy.  I turned it down at first, but when I was finally sure there was nothing left for me on Bakura I called them back and begged to have it.  You and Mara and Ben are the only family I have left, and I don’t see why we should stay so far apart.”

“I can’t say we’ll be sorry to have you, even though Coruscant isn’t exactly a tourist destination at the moment.  Nothing like a genuine galactic crisis to cut your diplomatic teeth on.  Keep us in the loop with the details.  If we’re here when you arrive, we’ll be there to meet you.”

“I’d like that.”  If she dwelt on the imminent prospect of transgalactic travel too long, the very idea of leaving Bakura still terrified her.  It felt like cutting the invisible lifeline that had bound her to that place since birth, chasing a new freedom that she used to think was never intended for her.  Clinging to the rational thought that billions of beings blasted between systems every day was only a limited help, but the promise that Uncle Luke would be there to help her find her feet in the big city made it all much more bearable.  That single thread remained, constant and unbreakable, beckoning her into a much larger world.  All she had to do was follow it.  “I’d like that very much.”

Lio’s criticisms had been echoing in her mind ever since the argument.  Luke was one of the most important guiding lights in her life, probably the most important one who still lived.  She respected and admired him, certainly, more than any other man she had ever met.  But was she obsessed?  Maybe she was.  She did love him—parent, confidant, and unattainable idol all rolled into one—a sentiment that had only strengthened ever since she had scraped together the courage to tell him so when she was just seven years old.  Maybe that was a consequence of a deprived childhood, of always wanting more of Luke than he could give, of knowing that he loved her but could only ever be with her a few days out of every year, if that.  Had that cross-wired her affection-starved brain into seizing upon whatever romance she was offered, but then holding those relationships to unrealistic standards?  

“Uncle Luke,” she sighed, sinking back into a very vulnerable place, but if she couldn’t ask him she couldn’t ask anyone.  “Is it me?  Why do I always end up with such losers?”

He smiled, a fond expression of sympathy that left her craving a hug.  “I wouldn’t exactly say that,” he qualified, “although all our problems have at least a little something to do with us, especially if they come from the choices we make.”

“That’s a very nice way of saying ‘yes, you did it to yourself,’” Malinza protested, taking no offense.  “So, any advice?  Clearly I need it.”

Luke paused before committing to an answer, a subtle signal that she would get a serious reply despite the banter.  “Don’t be in a hurry,” he decided.  “I think we had this conversation a few years ago after Vyram.  You can’t force a perfect relationship into being, no matter how badly you want one.  When people get into a hurry they make mistakes, they settle, and that obviously causes bigger problems down the line.”  

Malinza heaved an exaggerated sigh.  “So, the best thing to do is nothing,” she grumbled.  “Ironically, it’s also the hardest.”

“Don’t think of it as doing nothing,” Luke encouraged her.  “Think of it as an opportunity for self-improvement.  There’s always plenty of that to be done.”

Of course.  She rolled her eyes and slumped into a pout.  “Yes, Master,” she allowed with an impertinent lilt.  “Where would you have me start?  Taming my hysterical hormones?  Learning to emote like something other than a spastic disaster?”  

Luke shrugged off her self-pitying tantrum, taking her seriously even when she didn’t.  “Learn to be alone,” he said.  It was blunt, but kindly meant.  “You don’t have to love that arrangement, but you have to at least be confident.  You’ll learn a lot about who you are, and you’ll be in a much better place to make clear-eyed decisions when the opportunity arises.”

It unfortunately rang true, the advice she needed but didn’t want.  “I don’t like being alone,” she complained. 

“I don’t like it, either,” he assured her, sympathetic but unyielding, as any good parent would be, “but it can be important sometimes.  Trust me.  I had to figure that out the hard way, but I promise it’s true.”

Relenting, Malinza nodded.  “I know you’re right,” she said.  “It’s just hard.”

“It is,” Luke agreed, “but it’s something you can control.  You still have agency in your own life regardless of what might be going on around you, and that’s an important responsibility.  You don’t have to just let things happen to you.”

True.  People who were convinced of their own helplessness too often left themselves trapped in bad situations.  Malinza reflected that she had been making some pretty extreme executive decisions lately.  It was somewhere to start, even if she had to privately admit that all her grand plans were just a thinly-veiled effort to run to her sponsor dad for comfort.  No one else had to know it, and that conversation had just convinced her how much she needed to be near him right now.  “I’ll remember that,” she promised.  “Thank you.”  

When the call was finally over, Malinza sat staring at the dark display for a while, her mind churning with competing thoughts and perspectives, contemplating the state of her life.  It was a hot mess, but she couldn’t regret everything.  She couldn’t regret Petra.  Despite the disaster, she still had a lot going for her.  She had a new life falling into place, had a new job, had a new home waiting on a new world.  She had her marching orders from Master Skywalker.  She had to learn to be alone.  

Malinza’s eye caught the holoframe on the desk, such a familiar piece of domestic clutter that she had overlooked it until then.  It was a still shot taken at her wedding.  Still stung by disappointment, she picked it up intending to toss the whole apparatus into the garbage, but she hesitated.  It was a charming image, despite the unfortunate circumstances, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to part with it.

In the moment, it struck her as the perfect metaphor.

Falling back on that personal agency Luke had encouraged her to exercise, Malinza queued the display settings on the frame, accessed the original image data, and cropped Lio out, leaving just herself with the Skywalkers.  It definitely looked better that way.

Next stop, Galactic City Center.

Chapter Text

40 ABY, Coruscant

Atmospheric reentry had Malinza gritting her teeth just as much as their original climb away from Bakura’s gravity well.  She supposed she would eventually get used to space travel, but in the moment it was better not to dwell on it.  What she imagined she would never get used to was the traffic.  While not as busy as it had been back in its glory days, Coruscant was choked with transports, barges, and private ships of every description at the highest altitudes, and the delays were significant.  The additional clutter of orbiting satellites, skyhooks, habitation spheres, and a robust military presence had Malinza feeling the urban crush long before their struts hit ferrocrete.  

“It’s so shiny!”  Petra was peering out the viewport as well as she could while still strapped into her crash restraints.  The masses of twinkling lights were fading as the dawnline approached, and it was an impressive sight.

“Very shiny,” Malinza agreed.  “I think that’s probably how it got its name.”  

She rummaged a tube of nut paste out of her bag and gave it to Petra to keep her happy and occupied for a while.  The captain announced over the comm that it would be at least another three hours before they would land, eliciting sighs from the other passengers.  

“It’s those damn security goons clogging things up,” grumbled a man in the next row.

“Maybe you’d rather let the terrorists run wild,” his neighbor suggested sharply.

Malinza just stared vacantly at the vista outside, trying to steady her nerves and pass the time.  She had seen holos of the capital, but seeing it in person was very different, a dizzying tangle of skylanes and interconnected towers.  It was wilder than it had been before the Vongforming, the invasive alien jungle still fighting to maintain a permanent foothold on what had been a sprawling ecumenopolis.  Salis D’aar was a quaint provincial outpost by comparison.  

Petra was trying mightily to be on her best behavior, but she was a ball of frustrated energy by the time they finally received clearance to land on a bank of floating docks several kilometers long and at least a few wide.  Once they had touched down, it was all Malinza could do to keep the child in her seat while the air lock was opened and everyone ahead of them shuffled out.

By the time they joined the shuffle themselves, the local aromas hit them, city and jungle mixed together, not fundamentally unlike Bakura but with an unfamiliar flair.  Malinza wrinkled her nose.  Every planet smelled different, she supposed.  That would take some getting used to.  

At the hatch, she saw why the line was held up.  Two representatives of the Coruscant Security Force were there, screening each passenger before they could debark.  Supervising the operation was a considerably more intimidating trooper in black, the acronym GAG embroidered on his chest.  Malinza had been professionally briefed about them, the Galactic Alliance Guard, a specialized police force recently established by Chief of State Omas to contain civil unrest.  They were commanded by Jacen Solo, and Ben was mixed up in it.  She hadn’t been paying much attention at the time, preoccupied with her travel arrangements, but seeing them in action made her think twice.  They seemed very . . . imperial.  Fortunately, there was no difficulty about any of the data on her travel chit, so she didn’t have to endure their scrutiny for long.  

Malinza fought down a significant jolt of vertigo as she and Petra descended the boarding ramp onto the massive floating platform.  The locals didn’t seem to mind, but she tried not to think about just how high above the planet’s surface they still were.  She understood that in many places there was some debate about which level actually was the planet’s surface.  That didn’t bear thinking about either.  

Tired of traveling, tired of the noise, tired of managing a displaced child while her arms were full of luggage, Malinza pushed through the crowd as politely as possible to collect the rest of their bags as they were unloaded.  Standing there braced against the wind with her vision narrowed by fatigue and stress, she would have jumped when a hand touched her shoulder if it wasn’t immediately so familiar.

“Need a ride, kiddo?”

“Uncle Luke!” Petra screeched, wrapping herself around his leg.  “We’re here!  We’re here!’

Malinza just groaned and put her arms around his shoulders, burying her face against his chest.  “I would love a ride,” she confessed with exaggerated misery.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.   I’m so disoriented, I hardly know which way is up.  I don’t know how you do this so often.”

“You’ll be surprised how quickly you get used to it,” Luke promised, holding her close.  He wasn’t wearing his Jedi robes that day, just a simple black pants and cargo jacket combination that made him largely indistinguishable in an average crowd of pedestrians.  Maybe he was hoping for a little more anonymity than usual.  

“I heard there’s been some drama in the past weeks,” Malinza ventured, an intentional understatement.  It had been a very dense and ongoing news cycle for a month or two.  The precautionary arrest of General Wedge Antilles by the GA and his subsequent escape and defection to the Corellian Defence Force, the preemptive strike by GA Intelligence that knocked Corellia’s Centerpoint Station offline again, the failed attempt by Luke, Jaina, and several other Jedi to snatch the Corellian heads of state on behalf of Chief Omas, and the aggressive occupation of Tralus by the GA fleet would have been more than enough to keep any diplomatic team busy.  

The attempted peace talks at Toryaz Station had been a hopeful development, until they were completely disrupted by an outrageous assassination attempt by a group of amateur commandos targeting all attendees without distinction, including Han and Leia Solo and Luke and Mara Skywalker.  The death toll had included the Corellian prime minister and Supreme Commander Pellaeon’s security double, and no doubt would have been worse if so many Jedi and stubborn war veterans hadn’t been present.  That incident was still under investigation, Malinza understood, and stank of some kind of bizarre conspiracy.  

The talks had consequently gone nowhere, and instead Corellia had repulsed the GA occupation force at the Battle of Tralus.  Now it was open war.  Now all resident Corellians on Coruscant were considered little better than enemy combatants, and a wave of domestic terrorism hadn’t improved that opinion.  Now Colonel Jacen Solo and his GAG troopers were rounding up and interning troublesome portions of the population, sparking riots and general discontent in the capital.  Supreme Commander Pellaeon had resigned in disgust, and his replacement, a Mon Cal named Cha Niathal, seemed to welcome the conflict.  That was the last briefing Malinza had received before packing herself and her daughter into a transport.  It was quite a time to be relocating right into the middle of the conflict, she knew, but she still didn’t quite regret it.  Whatever was happening, she wanted to be nearer the people who really mattered to her.  

“There’s been nothing but drama,” Luke agreed, finally releasing her.  He looked good for his age, Malinza thought, better than most men could hope to at fifty-nine, still spry and built like an elite athlete.  But the stress was obviously wearing on him, evident in the shadows beneath his eyes.  Nearly being assassinated was nothing new to him, nor were space battles or commanding starfighter squadrons, but it had to be difficult for his entire family to be so thoroughly trapped in the vise.  Maybe that was why he had hugged her longer and harder than she had expected.  He looked her in the eye, real concern beneath the affectionate welcome.  “You’re sure you’re up for this?”

“There’s no turning back now,” Malinza said with a grim shrug.  “I’d hate to have wasted all that time filling out the residency forms.”  

Luke swept Petra onto his hip to keep her out of the way while Malinza retrieved their luggage, both large cases fitted with repulsors in the Bakuran fashion.  Now that she was noticing it, there were many fewer repulsors in common use in Coruscanti society than she had expected.  Something else to get used to.  

“Where’s Mara?” Malinza asked as they loaded themselves and all the rest of it into Luke’s speeder.  

Luke frowned as he adjusted the backseat to accommodate Petra.  “Mara’s mad at me this morning,” he confessed.  “We were up half the night arguing about Ben and Jacen, and I got the silent treatment over breakfast, so I’ve made myself scarce.  No reflection on you; I’m sure she’ll be around to see you before long.”

Maybe recent circumstances in her own life triggered the alarm in Malinza’s mind, but trouble in Luke and Mara’s marriage was the last thing she wanted to face.  “Is it that bad?” she asked, taking special care to thoroughly strap herself in.

Luke seemed to recognize her misgivings as he slid in beside her.  “No,” he assured her, shaking his head.  “No, it’s not that bad.  It’s just a very stressful time for all of us, and we have to somehow figure out how to parent a very singular teenager in the midst of it all.  We just disagree on the best course of action.”  

In spite of everything, Malinza let herself be calmed by the speeder ride through the city.  Even the altitude didn’t bother her once she convinced herself to have some confidence in the infrastructure, and if she couldn’t trust Luke Skywalker to competently pilot her somewhere she might as well never leave home.  Petra loved it, pointing out landmarks and giving them new arbitrary names.  That poor child was going to crash hard soon enough.  Despite it being local morning, their internal chronometers were ready for bed.

Luke took advantage of the rooftop parking at their destination, a tower of comfortable apartment suites on the edge of the Imperial quarter.  The Bakuran government maintained three whole floors there for the convenience of its resident staff.  As predicted, Petra was asleep when they arrived, so Luke pulled her out and carried her to the lift while Malinza steered the luggage.  They seemed to have missed the morning rush to work, so the corridors were quite peaceful as they wandered through, looking at door numbers.  

As they approached what sequentially had to be her apartment, Malinza was startled to see a small box beside the door.  Considering the local climate of terrorist threats and political bombings, she stopped mid-stride, immediately suspicious.

“Don’t worry,” Luke whispered around Petra.  “I sent that.  You have the door code, I hope?”

Exhaling that sudden rush of anxiety, Malinza entered the code, and the door swung open for them.  It was a nice place, fully furnished for their convenience, a consideration that certainly simplified their move.  It was a strange feeling, though, like moving into someone else’s house, someone who had excellent taste but no personality whatsoever, everything finished in sterile off-white and cream tones.  

Sapped for the moment, Malinza sank into a molded kitchen chair while Luke deposited Petra in one of the bedrooms.  When he came back, he collected the box from the corridor and set it on the counter.

“Couldn’t be sure I’d be here to meet you,” he explained, slicing it open and unpacking the contents, two mugs and a tin.  “You never know with a war on.  But I wasn’t going to let you move in without some sort of housewarming party.”

He rummaged in the cupboards for a saucepan and a spoon, and was gratified to find some milk with a few other staples in the conservator.  Of course he ignored the fancy caf machine, determined to make it campfire-style instead.  Malinza just sat and let him work, content to be pampered for a minute.  It had been a strange week.  

“I heard the Solos left,” she said.

Luke frowned, pouring a very generous measure of chocolate powder into the hot milk.  “They relocated to Corellia,” he said.  “They didn’t make a big political stink about it, but it’s a pretty obvious slap in the face when a former chief of state jumps ship like that.  Leia went mostly to appease Han, I think, and part of me can’t even blame them, or Wedge.  The GA hasn’t exactly been putting its best foot forward in this conflict.  Leia’s still an active Jedi, which puts her under my authority, but I don’t want to force that confrontation by recalling her for no reason.  As far as I can tell, she’s walking a very fine line, being loyal to her husband without directly aiding the enemy war effort.”

And he’d rather not blow up any more of his family than he has to, Malinza thought.  Fair enough.  

“And neither of them wanted to stick around to see what new low Jacen would fall to next.”  Luke didn’t even try to mask his pain and disgust.  “The administration’s got him commanding this new secret police force of theirs.  They knew I wouldn’t do it, so they asked Mara.  She wasn’t keen, either, so they gave it to Jacen.  He was already leaning in a bad direction, but this has just given him free rein to run riot.  He was always unsettled and unsure as a Jedi, always wondering if there was another way for him, a better way, a unique way.”  He shrugged with his eyebrows, an abyss of conflicted emotion behind the expression.  “Apparently, he thinks he’s found it, and it’s turning ugly fast.  He doesn’t answer to me or the Jedi Order anymore, but he hasn’t been officially expelled, either.  And now he’s got Ben sunk in all this up to his eyeballs, because Ben’s still an impressionable kid who wants to be an adult and thinks Jacen can do no wrong, and I guess it’s quicker and easier to become a GAG trooper than it is to be a Jedi.”

He went quiet as he shut off the heat and portioned the chocolate into the ready mugs, seeming to think better of his rambling complaint.  “Sorry,” he said, bringing her a mug and sitting across the table with the other.  “I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.  I just want it to stop, the whole council wants it to stop, and Ben’s avoiding me now because he knows I don’t like it.  I know what I need to do, what I should do, but he and Mara are going to fight me every step of the way.”

Malinza wrapped her hands around the steaming mug, trying to let the warmth relax her.  Previously, she couldn’t remember ever enduring an awkward silence around Luke, but that was the only word to describe it now.  That peace he used to bring with him had disappeared in a fume of frustration that she didn’t need Force sensitivity to feel.  She couldn’t blame him for that.  He was still holding the line, standing exactly where he was supposed to be, but his government was undercutting him, his sister and best friend had left him, his wife was fighting with him, his son was pulling away from him, while his surviving nephew had become a professional embarrassment and perhaps something worse.  Somehow he was expected to solve it all.  

“I’m sorry,” she said, too tired to think of anything more useful.  “I’m afraid I’m not much help.”

Luke waved it off.  “I didn’t ask you to be.  It’s really good to see you, if nothing else.  I’m sure you’ll have more than enough trouble of your own soon enough.”  He held up his mug with a facetious smile, theatrically drawing her attention to the sentimental script emblazoned along the side: PATIENCE.   Then he rolled his eyes.  “I wish it was as easy as imbibing a daily dose in the morning.”

That actually made her smile.  “Figure out how to bottle that, and you’d never have to work another day in your life,” Malinza agreed.  “Everybody I know needs some.”  

He smiled, too, which was good to see.  “True.  Anyway, how have you been?  It’s kind of a big deal to uproot your whole life to start fresh in the middle of a warzone.”

Malinza laughed again.  The fatigue was making her giddy, and Luke’s dry humor in the midst of the mayhem never failed.  They might as well enjoy it; there was nothing else to laugh about.  “Just taking it one day at a time, I guess,” she said.  “Everything’s final.  All payments have been made.  The house is sealed up, because I’m not ready to let it go, but I don’t know when we’ll be back.  Lio’s disappeared as if he never was, except that I’ve got this cute little girl and a much deeper bank account.”

Luke took a long draw out of his mug, then shrugged again.  “You might have done worse,” he admitted, although he obviously still found the whole situation very disappointing.  

“Technically, I suppose I don’t really have to be doing this job right now,” Malinza said.  “I’m certainly not in it for the credits.  But I’d go crazy without something to do.”

“And it would be a shame to waste all that expensive tuition,” Luke added.  

Malinza supposed he would know, as he and Mara had occasionally been involved with Laera in sponsoring her education.  “Hey, I’m in a position to pay it forward now,” she said.  “Or backward, if you will.  Just let me know if you need anything.”

Luke smiled at her and arched an eyebrow, making it clear that he appreciated the gesture, but that Mustafar would freeze over before he ever asked her for money.  

Malinza was quiet for a breath, just enjoying the warm, minty aroma wafting out of her mug, trying to hold that fleeting moment of calm before it was gone.  Here she was, exactly where she had wanted to be for so many years.  She had finally made it off the rim into the heart of galactic affairs, and Uncle Luke was right there with her, sitting at her kitchen table and sipping hot chocolate like everything was right in their world.  But almost nothing was right.  Everything was going to pieces all over again, and there was no avoiding it.  

“Do you think you’ll be staying local for a while?” she asked.

Luke shook his head, depressed and tired.  “I can’t say.”

“Is that because you’re being discreet, or because you don’t know?”

He scoffed.  “Both, really.  This is war; I could be deployed without prior notice anytime Omas and Niathal get the itch.”  Even he didn’t like the way that sounded.  “Although, that might have to change,” he muttered into his mug.  “I know we’re all sworn to the GA, but the Jedi are not supposed to be just the government’s shock troops.  We’re supposed to be able to see beyond that sort of thing.  I just have a bad feeling that this particular situation, if it doesn’t change course soon, is going to force me to make some very uncomfortable and unpopular decisions.”

Malinza certainly didn’t envy him his position, or the crushing responsibility.  She couldn’t help hearing in her own mind the basic principles he had very persistently drilled into her over the years, always ready to hand in a crisis.  After all, he had always said that if your first principles fail in practice, they can’t have been very good in the first place.  The magnitude of the situation didn’t really matter.  

“Just the next right thing,” she said.

Luke glanced up, dragged out of his churning thoughts.

“All we have to do is the next right thing,” Malinza repeated with a pale smile.  “At least, that’s what some Jedi I used to know was always telling me.”

Luke shot her a sly look in return.  “He sounds like an insufferable optimist,” he said.  

He got up to wash his empty mug, but Malinza lingered over hers.  She was slowly realizing just how very tired she was.  She was also very hungry, but she doubted there was anything more satisfying than fruit juice in the conservator.  The effort required to do anything she knew she needed to do, even to just go to bed, seemed too much.  She’d have to ask Luke how people ordered food in Galactic City Center before he left.

A quick rap at the door startled her awake again, and in the next moment Mara pushed her way inside, one hand holding a laden flimsiplast bag, the other balancing a large covered tray.  “Hey, girl!” she said in a throaty whisper, apparently aware that Petra was sleeping, “glad to see you made it all right.  I know transport food is nothing to get excited about, so I thought I’d treat you to lunch.”

As she turned to deposit the spoils in the kitchen, Mara came face to face with Luke, and her expression hardened.  Luke, for his part, had assumed the familiar but wary posture of a beaten dog.  He nodded at the tray in her hand.  “You’re not going to hit me with that, are you?” he asked.

Almost as though she were considering it, Mara advanced on him, eyes narrowed.  But when she was finally within striking distance, she came up on her toes to lay a stiff kiss on his lips.  The argument clearly wasn’t over, but that didn’t have to change the way they felt about each other.  “Get out of the sink, farmboy,” she growled, setting the food down on the counter.  “You need to have lunch, too.”

Malinza sighed, glad there was no real crisis there.  Those two could clearly work out their problems on their own.  There were right and wrong ways to do everything, apparently even marital strife.  Maybe she and Lio could have learned about that from that counselor they had never bothered to see.  Could have, would have, should have.  Whatever.  

All she could remember about the food was that it was very good, and there was more than enough for leftovers by the time breakfast—dinner?—rolled around.  All she wanted was sleep, a long, uninterrupted sleep. 

“Sweetheart, do you need a babysitter?” Mara was asking, looking at her from across the table with equal measures of amusement and concern.  “You look like you need to curl up and die for a while.”

“There’s a nanny coming,” Malinza said, suppressing a yawn.  “Already been arranged.”

Luke and Mara looked at each other.  “When?” Mara asked.  “In a few hours?  You won’t last another ten minutes.  And the last thing Petra wants is to wake up in a new house with a perfect stranger.”

“I’ll stay,” Luke volunteered.  “I’ll catch up on all that tedious administration you’ve been nagging me about.”

“The Grand Master working remotely today?”

“You’ll know where to find me.”

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair, then.”

Mara left Malinza with a quick hug.  “We’ll talk later when you’re awake,” she promised.  “Call or come by our place anytime.  Welcome home.”

Malinza returned the embrace with real feeling.  “Thanks,” she said.  She did feel welcome, and she did feel home, exactly as she had hoped she would.  It made all the stress and uncertainty of the move worth it.

When Mara had gone, Luke nodded toward the computer terminal and holoport on the desk.  “Standard diplomatic package?” he asked.  “I’ll just slave it to my datapad’s encryption, and I’ll have everything I need.  Now, go to bed, and don’t worry about anything.  Whatever it is, we’ll handle it tomorrow.”

“You’re a hero, Uncle Luke.”

“So they tell me.  Go.”

The next interlude in Malinza’s story is published in Legends Are For the Brave, Chapter 34: Rules of Engagement, a Jaina-centric retelling and expansion of a scene from Legacy of the Force: Bloodlines by Karen Traviss.  Our journey through Legacy of the Force will continue between these two stories.  We'll leave links.  ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡° )

Chapter Text

40 ABY, Coruscant

“Frankly, I don’t expect much better from Gejjen,” Ambassador Dioscoro said, frowning at the array of datapads on the table in front of her.  “For a brief moment, we dared to hope he would be an improvement after the assassination, but he seems to have taken more than a few pages from Sal-Solo’s playbook.  He’s abolished the office of President of the Five Worlds, and installed himself as both Chief of State of the planet Corellia and Five Worlds Prime Minister.”

“Sounds dangerously efficient.”  Deputy Andron was frowning at his own datapad, picking through the newest bulletins and listening at the same time.  “Do we think they’re preparing some dramatic offensive, or just concentrating power?”

“Could be either, although I don’t like to speculate, and speculation is all we’ve got right now.  The Alliance is keeping its intelligence assets closer than usual these days.”

“The Corellians must have that new fleet somewhere,” Malinza reasoned, “the one they haven’t fielded yet, but that everyone knows they’ve been building.  The blockade doesn’t seem to have had much effect, so they must have a plan.”  

“And the other ministers in Gejjen’s High Cabinet are all at least as disagreeable as he is,” the ambassador continued, “so peace talks are unlikely.  Not that we’ll stop advocating for them.”

“Has the GA actually confirmed the existence of this new Corellian fleet?” Fabia asked.  She was Malinza’s opposite number, Deputy Andron’s assistant and understudy.  “That’s what started this whole conflict, after all.”

“Only circumstantially,” he clarified, “but it’s a strong case.  I have a feeling it won’t be long before we’re hearing about it.  If the Alliance has anything else, they’re keeping it quiet.”

“Centerpoint is still disabled,” the ambassador pointed out.  “That’s not insignificant, although I’m sure they’re working the problem as we speak.  Any fresh ugliness I need to be aware of this morning?”

“Oh.”  Fabia frowned, her eyes darting across her screen.  “More Bothans were killed last night.  CSF just published the report.”

“Oh, that’s bad,” Ambassador Dioscoro agreed with a grimace.  “Anything to do with Jacen Solo and GAG?  I know the colonel has been at odds with the True Victory Party over the World Brain.”

The True Victory Party, Malinza remembered, was a rogue faction of Bothan extremists still trying to fulfill their genocidal oath of ar’krai against the Yuuzhan Vong.  Apparently it made no difference to them that the war with the invaders had been resolved ten years ago, or that the remnants of that race had been reconciled with the Galactic Alliance and abandoned the most violent aspects of their culture.  An oath was an oath, it seemed, and they especially resented artifacts like the World Brain, an enigmatic organism that had once been intended to maintain ecological order during Coruscant’s brief transformation into Yuuzhan’tar, still living somewhere in the sublevels.  Jacen Solo was known to have developed an intimate relationship with the creature during his wartime captivity, and had parlayed that relationship into an invaluable source of local intelligence for GAG.  Considering the temper he’d been in lately, Colonel Solo would be personally affronted by any action taken against it.   

“Unconfirmed,” Fabia said, skimming through the report.  “Who else could it be?”

“We’ll not jump to conclusions just yet,” the ambassador warned them, “although if this keeps up, we may soon lose Bothawui to the Corellians.  From what I’ve heard, Colonel Solo is still managing his internment facilities with complete disregard for the Incarceration Accords.  Even murderous Bothans and Corellian terrorists are entitled to due process of law.  Malinza, draft a formal complaint.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  

Everything was degenerating into violence, despots on every side, and common decency was suddenly much less common.

“The hot new rumor is that Hapes may be waffling,” Deputy Andron said.  “The Queen Mother is allegedly willing to at least entertain a delegation from Gejjen.”

Malinza scowled.  “That seems like an extreme concession.”

“I agree.”  Ambassador Dioscoro’s flinty gray eyes had narrowed considerably.  “Queen Mother Tenel Ka is a close friend to the younger Solos, and an outspokenly devoted protege of Grand Master Skywalker.  I can’t imagine she would reconsider her loyalties without intense pressure from within the Consortium.”

“Historically, the Hapes Consortium was hostile to Jedi,” Deputy Andron reminded them.  “This Force-sensitive dynasty is only two generations old.”

“Possible coup brewing?”

“Again,” the ambassador insisted, “we’ll not jump to conclusions.  But don’t completely disregard that wrinkle, and keep an eye on it for me, dear.  It could be a real inflection point.  In the meantime, there are no new directives from home yet.  Our government is debating various eventualities and whether or not there will be any red-line issues we’ll be obliged to present to Chief Omas.  Until then, Bakura will reiterate support for the Alliance while advocating for an end to the hostilities.”  

It was much easier to preach about ending the hostilities than to actually accomplish it, Malinza knew.  As much as she was committed to non-violence and the Cosmic Balance, she could see the situation was impossible.  Corellia had absolutely provoked the conflict, and the Alliance could only respond in kind or else disadvantage her other member states.  So long as Corellia was determined to force the issue, war was inevitable.  Another bloody conflict in service of ego and entitlement.  A gross imbalance.  It was all so disgusting.  

They retired to their workstations, and after drafting that official complaint against GAG’s indiscretions, Malinza was dismissed for a rare afternoon off.  The short speeder ride home usually gave her just enough time to compartmentalize the day before being reunited with Petra, but for whatever reason, the skylanes were hopelessly choked.  Random traffic snarls were just a fact of life, especially during such volatile times.  

Faced with a ludicrously long wait, her mind buzzing with both personal and professional apprehension and frustration, Malinza’s eyes wandered over the horizon outside.  The gleaming transparisteel pyramid dominating the near quarter stood out more prominently than usual, mostly because the lanes were open in that direction.  

Malinza wasn’t sure whether she was one to really believe in trifling signs from the universe, but her curiosity was poised to finally get the better of her.  Luke and Mara had of course extended an open invitation for her to visit the Jedi Temple whenever she wished, but she had never had much interest before, quite aside from her religious conflicts.  Now, escaping from all the politics for a few hours of peace seemed like a fabulous idea.

She pulled out her comlink and called home.

“Yes, Madame Thanas?”

“Just checking in, Ciya,” she said.  “How’s Petra doing?”

“Miss Petra is just fine,” the nanny assured her.  “She wore herself out at nursery play, so she’s napping.”

Perfect.  “Traffic is impossible right now, so I’m going to stop by the Jedi Temple for a few hours until it clears.  Call me if anything comes up.”

“Yes, ma’am.  Enjoy your visit.  I hear the gardens are especially worth seeing.”

The steps leading up the main temple gates required a significant effort to climb, and Malinza appreciated how that feature might force one to quiet one’s mind before presuming to enter the sacred precincts.  She knew the current Temple was a recreation of the ancient structure that had stood there before, but the builders had managed to preserve the impression of timelessness the place was meant to represent.  Governments may come and go, but the Order would remain.  At least, that was what Malinza assumed her first impression was meant to be.  

The Jedi on duty at the gate was not especially threatening, a young alien woman with delicate blue skin, dressed in the traditional robes and armed with no more than a lightsaber.  “Good afternoon, and welcome,” she said, graciously indicating the ready identichip scanner.  “Please confirm your name and the purpose of your visit today.”

“Malinza Thanas,” Malinza said, presenting her diplomatic credentials to the scanner since they were still on the lanyard around her neck, “just here to see the Masters Skywalker if they’re available.”

The gate attendant’s hospitable demeanor faltered only slightly, and Malinza supposed she couldn’t blame her.  She would be skeptical too if a low-level functionary wandered into the Temple on a whim and asked to see the most consequential members of the order.  But Luke had assured her that he would leave special instructions attached to her name in their system, and when the computer chimed, she had the satisfaction of seeing the young Jedi’s eyes widen considerably.

“Madame Thanas, of course,” she said, fumbling a bit.  “I can confirm that both Master and Grand Master Skywalker are here today, but I don’t know if they’re available at the moment.  I’ll arrange an escort for you.”  She looked away and discreetly touched her earpiece.  “Malinza Thanas is here to see the Masters Skywalker.  Could an appropriate escort please report to the front gate?”  There was a moment of silence, and then she smiled.  “Yes, thank you, Master Katarn.”  After a quick flurry of keystrokes, the smaller door within the gates swung open.  “You may enter,” she said.  “Master Katarn will meet you shortly.”

The entryway led into a vaulted and echoing space that only continued to impress a sense of reverence on a visitor.  Fingering her mother’s Balance pendant, Malinza paced the inlaid floor wondering what she was doing there, but also why it had taken her so long to visit.  It was that same niggling contradiction that had dogged her since childhood, one she wouldn’t be able to ignore much longer.  

For every height, there had to be a depth.  For every excess, there was a deficit.  If she took the tenants of the Cosmic Balance seriously, she had to accept that the Jedi and everything they stood for represented a grave injustice.  As she had cozied up to her sponsor family, she had conveniently neglected to consider the possibility that every time they drew on that energy they called the Force, some hapless innocent in the galaxy diminished, sickened, or even died.  It was a horrible thought that sent a shudder down her spine, but Malinza forced herself to acknowledge it.  

It was always harder when one knew people on the other side of the divide.  Jedi could be faceless entities in theory, but she couldn’t bear to think that Luke and Mara were bringing plague, death, and disaster on the galaxy simply by existing.  Still, it would be feeble-minded to let her emotions determine her perception, or to absolve someone of all responsibility simply because she cared for him.

Even so, as she stood there in the nerve center of the Jedi Order, rebuilt in all its ancient mystic tradition from the ashes of the most recent attempt to destroy it, Malinza had to admit that the principles of the Cosmic Balance didn’t bear comparison well.  They seemed . . . partisan, she decided, a convenient means by which to dismiss and condemn the random inequities brought on by natural Force-sensitivity.  Even the black and white symbolism of her pendant seemed simplistic, almost childish.  If life had taught her anything at all, it was that everything was filled with nuance.  

Malinza sighed, feeling a headache coming on.  She had embraced the Balance because of her mother and her Bakuran heritage, but ultimately she wanted her convictions to reflect reality, and at the moment she couldn’t prove or disprove either orthodoxy.  The only thing she could be sure of was that if Luke had even the slightest suspicion that the claims of the Cosmic Balance were true, he would have sworn off the Force forever.  

Her churning thoughts were interrupted by the sound of boots on the polished stone, and Malinza looked up to see a Jedi approaching her.  With a spring in his step and a twinkle in his eye, only his graying hair and beard betrayed his age.  “Malinza!” he said, offering his hand and a smile.  “Kyle Katarn, at your service.  Mara’s told me so much about you, it’s like finally meeting the rest of the family.”

Malinza accepted his hand, and found the smile infectious.  “Wait,” she said, her brain finally catching up to what she was hearing, “the Kyle Katarn?  Okay, I have to ask you about Dark Forces.”

“A reckless exaggeration,” he assured her, but she couldn’t quite tell whether he was serious or if it was just a case of false modesty.  “Don’t believe everything you see in the holodramas.”  

“If you say so.”  Still, between the strength of that handshake and the muscle she could still see on his frame, Malinza wouldn’t have much difficulty believing a younger Master Katarn could have single-handedly taken whole Imperial installations carrying three blasters and a sack of thermal detonators.  

“Mara just stepped out for a late lunch with Ben,” he explained, “and Luke’s teaching right now.  Are you in a hurry today, or just seeing the sights?”

“Today I’m a tourist,” Malinza confessed.  “It’s my afternoon off and my apartment is blockaded by traffic.”

“Great, I’ll give you the tour, the abbreviated one so I won’t bore you to death.  But feel free to ask me to slow down if you ever want to linger.  This way, Madame Thanas.”

Master Katarn led her on a swift but thorough walkthrough of the Temple, from the fleet of StealthXs in the hangar, through the growing archives, and even up to the high council chamber.  The whole place was heavy with history and solemnity, even while feeling very much alive, busy with people going about the business of the day.  Malinza was reminded of the peaceful vigor of a forest, regrown from the roots after the fires of war, inevitably reclaiming its rightful place.  She couldn’t feel anything violent or rapacious about it, but her own feelings probably weren’t indicative of anything.  Or were they?

“Saved the best for last,” Master Katarn said, opening another door into a scene Malinza had least expected, a vast indoor garden thriving beneath enormous skylights, blanketed in the calming white noise of moving water.  “This is what everyone comes to see,” he said, lowering his voice, “the Room of a Thousand Fountains.”

“I can see why,” Malinza admitted, matching his tone.  

“Master Skywalker wasn’t in favor of restoring the Temple so soon after the Vongforming,” Kyle quietly explained as they walked along the path, “not when so much essential infrastructure still needed repairs.  But Chief Omas was determined to do it, and since they were going ahead anyway, Luke’s one stipulation was that they rebuild this room exactly as it had been in the Old Republic.”

Malinza could already imagine the querulous objections to the time and expense required for the project, but standing in the midst of that quiet oasis in the heart of the city, it was hard to argue that it had been a waste.  If every political debate and negotiation had to be hashed out in a place like that, there might be much less conflict in the galaxy.  “Is it meant to replicate a specific place,” she asked, “or some kind of idealized paradise?”

“I suppose you could say the latter.  Every plant here was a free gift of its native world.  We have ahcer trees from Dathomir, cantha grass from Chandrilla, speeno vines from Wayland, tanica and thuja from Endor, ormyum from Kashyyyk, axinus from Ossus, saliix from Hapes . . .”  Master Katarn softened his voice even further, then set a finger to his lips to encourage silence.  

Malinza followed his lead, hunkering down behind a large spray of shrubgrass and creeping forward to crouch beside a gap in the foliage.  Inside a ring of small bushes on a rise just beyond the divide, she could see Luke cross-legged on a rock, quietly lecturing a group of at least twenty young students gathered around him on the grass.  

“Those are the royal bhansgrek bushes from Naboo,” Master Katarn explained in a whisper, “sent specially by Queen Archana for Master Skywalker a few years ago.  Publicly, he won’t admit any partiality, but unofficially they’re the pride of the whole collection.”  

It made Malinza smile, reminded again that Uncle Luke was a walking contradiction, officially so tolerant and egalitarian, but at the same time utterly transparent.  “I understand,” she said.  “I won’t say anything.”

Kyle nodded.  “Do you need any more society, or are you good here?  They’re due to break in a few minutes.”

“I’ll wait,” Malinza said.  “You never know, I might even learn something.  Thank you, Master Katarn.”

“My pleasure.  Until next time, Malinza.”

He left her there, sitting between the roots of a young tree, somehow worlds removed from the reality she had inhabited only an hour ago.  One minute she had been sitting in traffic, and the next she was crouched in the dirt of a timeless garden, wrestling with metaphysical philosophy.  The fact that she was still in her work clothes only emphasized the absurdity.  Despite all that, it was far from unpleasant.  Petra would love it there.  They’d have to visit more often.  

Tired of wandering around lost in her own head, Malinza settled in to listen.  The class seemed to have moved beyond the esoteric aspects of Jedi spirituality and into current events, something that was more her speed.

“That’s an excellent question,” Luke was saying, “and I won’t be speaking out of turn if I said it had come up recently in council with Chief Omas.  We’re supporting the Alliance’s blockade because it’s the most measured option.  The Alliance is bound in justice to respond when Corellia tries to advantage itself at the expense of the other member states.  We are bound, as Jedi, to support the Alliance so long as it acts in justice with the ultimate aim of restoring peace.  A blockade is not very violent, but very inconvenient, and if it’s done right, can resolve a conflict pretty quickly.”

“What about the assassination?” a boy asked.  “Could we, as Jedi, still support our government if they started eliminating problematic heads of state?”

“Also an excellent question,” Luke decided, “and I’ll say it would depend on the circumstances.  Fortunately for us, I have it on good authority that the Alliance had nothing to do with killing Thrackan Sal-Solo.  If it were otherwise, I’d have to have a very frank discussion with our own heads of state and possibly reevaluate our position.  We can’t sacrifice justice to expedience.”

“But what about the new emergency powers?”  It was a young girl this time, her auburn hair piled high in braids.  “Everyone is saying the Alliance is becoming more like the Empire every day, and I can’t see that they’re wrong.”

A weary look passed Luke’s face, and Malinza could tell he shared the girl’s concerns.  “Emergency powers have their place in any government,” he allowed, “and that’s why we have to be careful about who we elect to high office.  If they renounce those powers when the emergency is over, no harm done.  If they don’t, it's a whole ‘nother can of skettos.”

“Do you think Chief Omas will renounce them?”

“Chief Omas is no Palpatine, I’m sure of that.  There are some people around him I have concerns about, but we’ll have to see how they perform.”  

“What if they don’t?” asked another girl, a timid green Twi’lek.  “What if the GA keeps its new powers and becomes a tyranny?  Will we be allowed to just stand down?  Won’t they see that as a betrayal?  Won’t they retaliate?”

Considering the history, it was a deeper and darker question than it sounded, and that was immediately reflected in Luke’s demeanor.  He became not only more sympathetic, but more commanding.  Protective.  “I don’t want to dismiss how serious the situation may become,” he said.  “Honestly, it could go either way, and I’ve been surprised more than once already.  The one thing I can guarantee is that this time we’re watching.  I hope we’ll never have to use them, but trust me when I say there will be worst-case scenario protocols in place.  There will be no second Operation Knightfall, not on my watch.”  

It sent a chill through her.  In Malinza’s limited but very practical experience, she knew what it felt like to be stabbed in the back by her erstwhile allies, ever since Deputy Prime Minister Harris had shoved a blaster in her face and ended her brief career as a political activist.  She could have died that day, would have died if not for Jaina Solo.  She knew there was tension at the highest levels of the GA, but it was sickening to think that Luke was already making doomsday plans to protect his Jedi and all the children entrusted to his care from his own government.  

“Master Skywalker, people keep saying you’re a coward,” another boy protested, flushing with anger, “that the Jedi aren’t willing to do what’s necessary.”

Luke allowed that to hang in the air for an awkward moment before he shrugged.  “And?” he asked.  “Why should that concern us?”

“Well . . . because they’re wrong.   Because they shouldn’t say things like that.  Because . . .”

The barest flicker of a smile tugged at Luke’s mouth.  “Because . . . it makes you uncomfortable?” he suggested.  “Come on, guys, we’ve talked about this.  For the Jedi there is no fear,” he recited, counting off points with his fingers, “no fear of being humiliated, no fear of being despised, no fear of being calumniated, no fear of being ridiculed, no fear of being wronged.  It doesn’t matter what people say.  We can’t control that.  We know why we do what we do, and we try to do what’s right regardless of how unpopular it may be.  Beyond that it’s all just noise, just angry people running their mouths and trying to prick you in your pride, and if you start listening, it’s easy to let some very subtle fears undermine your thinking.”

“What about Jacen Solo?” someone asked.  He wasn’t trying to be insolent, but instead seemed genuinely concerned, and it dropped a pall on the whole gathering.  “What about Ben?”

Luke sighed and lowered his gaze for a moment.  Naturally those kids had questions.  Malinza had questions.  Jacen wasn’t making any secret of his iron-fisted approach to law and order, and anyone who caught even a glimpse of the holonews could see it.  

“Everyone has the freedom to make his own choices,” Luke finally said, “including Jacen and Ben.  Naturally, I’ll try to help them make good ones, but they’re free to not listen.  I can’t force anyone to choose good over evil.  Jacen has effectively removed himself from the Order and doesn’t confide in me anymore, so I can’t speak to his state of mind.  Ben is trying to do the right thing, but he’s chosen a very difficult path.  All of you will have to choose a path, and some will be harder than others, but it will always be your choice.  Just understand that all choices have consequences.”

“What about destiny?  Doesn’t that play a part?”

“I do believe each of us has a destiny,” Luke said, “but we’re still free to accept it or not.  Nothing is absolutely preordained.  Each of us is given particular gifts for particular reasons, suited to our particular moment in time.  Each of us exists for a reason, and each of us has a part to play.  We can choose to perform to the best of our abilities or not, but each wasted life leaves the universe a poorer place.”

That struck a chord that sent Malinza’s thoughts spiraling in quite another direction.  In particular, she found herself wondering what might constitute a wasted life.

A belief in the Cosmic Balance encouraged people to make as small a splash in the cosmos as possible, or to counter whatever ripples one made with deliberate sacrifices.  Sometimes those sacrifices were people, like her Aunt Ylanda.  Was it really right to rely on others to pay the price for someone else’s actions?  Was Ylanda’s cosmic purpose simply to suffer so Gaeriel could excel?  Or had Ylanda had talents of her own that were never allowed to bloom?  Was that balance or injustice?  Malinza knew what Luke would say, and at that moment it would have been hard to argue with him.

It was making her head hurt again.  Force-sensitives obviously existed, and she would prefer to believe that all things existed for a reason.  Surely they had a purpose, but there seemed to be no place for them or their abilities within the formal confines of the Balance.  A worldview that excluded whole pieces of the puzzle must be fatally flawed.  

The Jedi did value balance, but they seemed to have a different idea of it.  If Emperor Palpatine had indeed been a dark Force-user, a Sith, was it not fitting that Luke Skywalker had been placed as a counterweight, shaped by the cosmos with extraordinary powers to fulfill an extraordinary purpose?  What if he had denied that, had consciously made himself small and ordinary?  Where would the galaxy be now if Luke had been born to a devout Bakuran family?  She wasn’t sure she could reconcile that possibility with the obvious imbalance that might have existed had the Empire never fallen.

At the same time, Malinza recognized that Luke had once again made himself a walking contradiction, that Grand Master Skywalker had indeed managed to keep himself small in many ways.  She didn’t doubt that Luke had consciously embraced his identity as a Jedi to the fullest, but he didn’t let his rank define him.  The office of Grand Master wasn’t an honor to be flaunted, but a task like any other, the purpose he had been given.  He didn’t rule, he governed.  He didn’t grasp, he supported.  He didn’t dominate, he served.  It was certainly possible to fulfill momentous tasks in a sacrificial way.

Perhaps a Jedi’s sacrifice was built into his power.  Perhaps they balanced their own excesses by dying to themselves a little each day.  Perhaps that kind of excellence was its own burden.

She might have chewed on that problem for another half hour, but then she realized the knot of students had broken up, and Luke was crouched on the other side of the shubgrass, smiling at her through the gap.  “Didn’t expect you in attendance today,” he said.  “Looks like you found some food for thought.”  

“You could say that,” Malinza admitted, standing and brushing the dirt off her skirt.  “I thought I’d finally come down and see the place.”  

Luke slipped through the grass and over the tree roots to join her, surefooted as a sybex.  “I hope it wasn’t disappointing.”

“Quite the contrary,” Malinza assured him, slipping her arm around the one he offered as they walked the path together.  “And it came with a personal tour courtesy of the infamous Kyle Katarn, an added bonus.”

“Kyle’s a character,” Luke agreed with a grin.  “How did you like him?”

“He’s exactly as advertised,” she decided.  “But he told me not to believe the holodramas.”

Luke laughed.  “Absolutely not.  They’re a gross understatement of his true talents.”

“You were taking some pretty hot questions back there,” Malinza observed.  “How are we all bearing up?”

“As well as can be expected,” Luke said, keeping a level tone despite the grief and stress the situation must be causing him.  “Jaina and Zekk are back in the game, under the auspices of the Order this time.  Ben has been struggling with some very adult consequences of his career choices, but so far he’s done the right thing by coming back to us and keeping us informed.  ‘Traumatized’ is a strong word, but the violence has definitely marked him, probably for life.  I’m trying to lure him out of GAG, but Mara is still convinced he has to find his own way.”  

“And Jacen?” Malinza dared to pry.  She hadn’t even met Jacen yet, but he seemed to be the loose gyro that was wrecking their ship.  

“Jacen will do as Jacen will do,” Luke said, his voice devoid of emotion.  “I don’t know where his head is anymore, and it’s giving me actual nightmares.  But a healthy work-life balance has never really been part of this job.”  

Malinza lowered her voice even farther.  “Are you really drawing up countermeasures already?  Is it really that bad?”

Luke stiffened, his eyes straight ahead.  “Don’t be offended if I decline to share,” he said.  “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that these are delicate times.  It wouldn’t be a bad idea for everyone to keep a few secret weapons and a contingency plan in his back pocket.”

“Secret weapons like Master Katarn?”

He allowed himself a grim smile.  “You’re a very shrewd woman, Madame Thanas.”  He tightened his arm around hers for a moment, apparently heartened by her company.  “I’ll walk you to your speeder.  Then come and have dinner at our place, if you don’t mind.  I want to see Petra.”

Our journey through Legacy of the Force will continue in Legends Are For the Brave, Chapter 36: The State of Play.

Chapter Text

40 ABY, Galactic City Center, Coruscant

“Good night, baby.”  Malinza kissed the top of Petra’s head and shooed her away toward Ciya.  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You don’t look like you’re going to work,” Petra suggested, clinging to KeeKee with a skeptical frown.

Malinza smothered a laugh, appreciating her young daughter’s powers of observation and deduction.  “That’s because I’m going to a party,” she explained, pulling on a tailored black shrug to give her cocktail dress a touch of professional class.  “Everyone from work will be there, and we’re going to talk about work while we have snacks.”

Petra considered that.  “Sounds like fun,” she admitted.  “But why can’t I come?”

“I don’t think they’ll have the kind of snacks you like, sweetie.  And you’d be bored.”

“Not if Uncle Luke is there!” she protested with a little stomp.

“Uncle Luke won’t be there,” Malinza assured her.  “He and Aunt Mara are very busy right now with their own problems.  Jacen Solo will be there, though, so I may finally get to meet him.”

Petra’s eyes widened, and she set her mouth in a grim line.  “The Jacen who took Ben?” she asked.

“Nobody took Ben,” Malinza insisted.  “Ben ran away on his own, which was a very naughty thing to do, but apparently he’s all right.  I’m sure we’ll see him again soon.  There’s just a lot going on right now, and everybody’s busy.  How do you know about that, anyway?”

“Heard you on the holo.”

Now Malinza frowned.  She would have to be more careful about her holocalls in the future.  “You shouldn’t listen to conversations that aren’t meant for you,” she said.  “You might not be old enough to understand what you hear.  Now, you need to get to bed.  You’re late already.”

Petra harrumphed the way only a precocious four-year-old girl could, and she rushed forward for another kiss and a hug.  “Have fun at the party, Mommy.”

“I’ll try,” Malinza promised.  “Like I said, it’ll probably be boring.”

When Petra and the nanny had gone, Malinza finished putting herself together.  It was supposed to be a dressy occasion, if not so formal as an official state dinner.  Her hair was perfectly styled, her nails polished in the same green as her dress, her accessories and credentials gathered into a designer clutch bag.  She touched up her cosmetics, and finally snaked her white lightsaber crystal necklace around her throat.  She had taken to wearing it more often in place of her mother’s Balance pendant, although she hadn’t yet decided exactly why.  She felt her mother would understand.  

The transport Malinza had ordered was waiting outside, and fortunately there were no inexplicable traffic jams to block her way back into the heart of the executive quarter.  When she was dropped at the entrance to the venue—a satellite hall on the fringes of the Imperial Palace—she saw the path into the reception had been marked with expensive glow-tiles, each one displaying a polite salutation in a different language.  

The hall itself was very well-appointed, but not excessively decorated, crowded with glittering representatives of many diverse worlds.  The big credits seemed to have been spent on the food, three of the four walls lined with repulsor tables bearing towering arrangements of fruit and cheese in more varieties and colors than Malinza had ever attempted to imagine.  There was a similarly well-stocked and apparently very popular wine bar on one side.  

The whole event could have easily been a simple press briefing, but now that Commenor and Bothawui had defected in support of Corellia, it felt like the GA was trying to flatter her loyal member states by showing them a little appreciation for sticking it out.  That was the whole purpose of being there in full battle dress to hear the official version of recent events directly from Colonel Solo’s mouth.  

“Hey,” Fabia said, appearing at Malinza’s elbow with a loaded plate.  “At least we get a free dinner out of it.”

“I just hope this isn’t one of those things you read about years later,” Malinza said, only partially joking, “the dying throes of a government now officially out of touch, hosting lavish receptions for a few people who don’t much matter in the grand scheme of things, sipping wine while the galaxy burns.”

Fabia frowned and blinked dramatically.  “My, you’re grim this evening.”

“Just trying to get some perspective,” Malinza assured her.  “I’d hate to have been caught on the wrong side of history when my daughter has to study it.”  

Not particularly hungry, she put a few selections on a plate for herself so as not to seem snobbish or hostile.  Like all other aspects of her job, there was a political calculation to that, too.  She didn’t know who was watching, but someone surely was.  

After another twenty minutes of inane small talk with other diplomatic aides, Malinza was beginning to form a more accurate opinion of how fraught the situation had become.  Not everyone was convinced of the effectiveness of the Alliance government, or indeed the righteousness of their cause.  Corellia was garnering a significant swell of sympathy in some quarters, especially after the stunning military reversal of the GA blockade.  Bakura was still officially neutral in the larger conflict, but loyal to the current administration, so Malinza tried not to give any impression to the contrary.  

A chime sounded over the low roar of the crowd, and everyone hushed, reassembling into small knots of affiliated diplomats.  Malinza and Fabia joined Ambassador Dioscoro and Deputy Andron a wary distance from the podium.  Colonel Solo was the darling of the hour, but the general impression was that he was also dangerous, the two qualities so inextricably bound together that they couldn’t be teased apart.  Privy to some of the intimate details from within Colonel Solo’s own family, Malinza perhaps appreciated a bit more than most how dangerous he could be.  

He finally arrived, striding across the dais to the podium with an uncomfortably tolerant air, as if the performance were beneath him, as though he would rather be almost anywhere else.  His black uniform and dramatic black cape made him look like some hybrid Imperial Jedi, and Malinza couldn’t help but draw the inescapable conclusion that Jacen had reverse-engineered the persona of Darth Vader.  There was no doubt that he was a survivor—surviving an extended captivity among the Yuuzhan Vong not least of all—but some part of him had clearly died along the way.  

Beside her, Fabia exhaled appreciatively.  “He certainly isn’t hard on the eyes,” she murmured.  “Even better in person.”

“Fair enough,” Malinza allowed, “but I don’t think I’d give him my comm code if he asked for it.”

Deputy Andron shushed them.

“Good evening, everyone,” Colonel Solo began, declining to make initial eye contact, his delivery barely rising above a grim monotone.  “It’s been a very eventful week, and I’m sure you all have questions.  Let’s just begin with the facts.”

He cleared his throat, and launched straight in.  “Admiral Matric Klauskin, the previous commander of our forces at Corellia—whose disastrous lapse in judgment led to the unplanned seizure of Tralus early in this conflict—was subsequently relieved of command due to unspecified but obvious mental defects.  Last week, Admiral Klauskin managed to escape the medical facility here on Coruscant and travel to Bothawui to meet our containment force.  By some undetermined means, it seems he was able to talk his way onto the frigate Shamunaar, take control of the bridge and open the craft to vacuum, eliminating the entire crew.  He surrendered the ship to the Bothans, who were then able to launch their fleets through our compromised scout screen to ambush our blockade forces at Corellia, resulting in the collapse of the entire operation.  What military leverage we held against Corellia has been momentarily lost, and we are exploring other means to undermine this burgeoning Corellian Confederation as we speak.  As always, Chief Omas would like to thank all allied worlds for their continued support as we work to end this war and restore order.”

He finally looked up, and didn’t seem inclined to elaborate further.  Malinza frowned, wondering if they had all gotten dressed up for no more than a few measly seconds of intel.  

“Admiral Klauskin is a native of Commenor, is he not?” someone asked.

“He is,” Colonel Solo confirmed.

“Commenor has since joined this Corellian Confederation.  Was Klauskin acting as an enemy agent, and will Commenor be held responsible?”

“It’s not clear whether Klauskin was acting under direction or is simply insane.”

“Is he accounted for?”

“Not at this time.  I expect he’s still with the Bothans, or else fled to Commenor.”  

“What is the status of the Centerpoint weapon?  Is it still a factor in this conflict?”

“Efforts were made to fatally sabotage Centerpoint Station before our retreat was ordered,” Colonel Solo assured them.  “Reports of success are mixed, but we’re confident it won’t be operational for some time, if at all.”

There was a great deal of dithering about the cost of future offensives, the ongoing economic impact of the war, and what obligations might be shifted onto other member states as whole systems defected to the Confederation.  Colonel Solo either didn’t have or wasn’t willing to divulge many concrete answers.  There was a larger question that no one seemed inclined to ask, much more fundamental than the financial considerations, and finally Malinza decided she felt brave enough to pitch it.

“To what lengths is the Alliance prepared to go to prosecute this conflict?” she asked, catching Colonel Solo’s eye.  “If enough worlds join the Confederation, will the Alliance agree to recognize them and seek a negotiated end to the war?”

Jacen frowned.  “Treachery is a bad foundation for any government,” he said, objecting to the premise of the question.  “Emperor Palpatine may have been validly elected, but he betrayed the common trust by bending the galaxy to his will rather than continuing to serve the common good.  The Rebel Alliance was simply fighting to restore that trust, first as the New Republic and now the Galactic Alliance.  Traitors to the common good do not good allies make, traitors who attempt to assassinate foreign monarchs, traitors who foment coups within our member states, traitors who subvert our cause from within, and I am determined to bring these traitors to justice before their cause can spread much farther.”

He moved on to address other guests, leaving Malinza to consider that.  She was absolutely sure she had Jacen’s honest answer—whether that was an accurate reflection of Chief Omas’ administration or not—and Jacen would fight to the death.  The way he said justice suggested reprisals and show trials to her mind, fairly or unfairly.  The war was personal for him, not just a matter of policy, and that could also be dangerous.  

“A very bold question, Malinza,” Ambassador Dioscoro observed, indulging in a conservative sip of wine.  

“I apologize if it was beyond my competence, ma’am,” Malinza said, belatedly remembering that she should have cleared any commentary with the ambassador before sharing with the whole room.  

“No, no,” she insisted.  “It was very astute.  Respectful, essential, blunt, informative.  There are times when we have to cut through the flowery words to know where we stand, and I think you’ve helped us get an accurate picture of Colonel Solo’s campaign strategy.  Now I have something to discuss with our home government tonight.”  

The serious business devolved back into a social event just a few minutes later.  It seemed that when Colonel Solo had been tapped for that duty, it was implied that he would spend at least an hour mingling with the ambassadors.  Malinza couldn’t imagine it could be much longer than that, not the way he kept checking his chronometer.  She was reaching to add a few slices of purple cheese to her plate when she caught his eye again, but she was surprised to see his annoyance transform into new interest, and he pushed his way through the crowd to join her.

“Good evening, ma’am,” Jacen said, offering his hand.  “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Malinza Thanas,” she replied, accepting the gesture, “Bakuran delegation.”

Before he could answer, Jacen seemed irresistibly distracted by her crystal pendant, so distracted that he reached out to handle it without thinking, taking Malinza so off guard that she didn’t even object.  “Luke made that,” he said, bemused, but then realized what he was doing and let go.  “I’m sorry, that was inexcusably rude of me.  Of course, Malinza.   You’re his sponsor daughter from Bakura.  Don’t worry, he does talk about you from time to time.”

Malinza returned his smile, cautiously pleased by the attention.  “Likewise,” she assured him.  It seemed Colonel Solo did know how to be charming when the situation required it, with his mother’s soft but intense brown eyes.  “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.”

“Yeah, Bakura was never really on my list of travel destinations,” he admitted.  “I didn’t realize you’d relocated to Coruscant.  Permanently?”

“Possibly,” Malinza said.  “We have no plans to go back right now, and my little girl really enjoys seeing Uncle Luke more often.”

Jacen’s brow furrowed slightly.  “You have children?” he asked.

“Just the one,” Malinza clarified, “Petra.  She’s four years old already, although I’m not sure when that happened.”

He laughed with her, and his expression became almost wistful.  “They’re especially cute at that age,” Jacen said, “and they do grow up fast.  Much too fast.”  His wistful smile faded to regret, and then to resignation.  “It was kind of a risk, wasn’t it, moving your family this deep into the conflict zone?”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” Malinza admitted, “but we each have our part to play, don’t we?  It seemed better to face life’s trouble with the family instead of trying to hide from it alone.”

Jacen blinked, and then offered her an ambivalent shrug.  “Well, you’re either very brave or very naive,” he said, somehow giving the subtle impression that he was generously leaning toward the former.  “There aren’t many people who would willingly share my family’s problems.”  

Malinza was sure it was some combination of both.  She realized of course that Luke’s problems with Jacen ran deeper than she had been told, that there was a lot going on recently among the Skywalker-Solos that ranked far above her familial paygrade.  Perhaps inserting herself and her daughter into the middle of that drama wasn’t the wisest thing she could have done.  Still, the possibility didn’t deter her even though she knew it probably should, and she was having a hard time forming any of that into a diplomatic reply.

Jacen saved her the trouble by glancing at his chrono again.  “I’m sorry, but I have to get to a meeting,” he apologized, offering his hand once more.  “It was nice to meet you, Malinza, and I hope you and little Petra will be very happy here.”

“Thank you.”  But as he released her and turned away, Malinza was seized by another question, a more personal one.  “Colonel Solo!” she called, still not comfortable enough to address him by his familiar name.  “I’m sorry, this might seem like a strange question considering my surrogate family, but being Bakuran, I’m not very familiar with the practical realities of being a Jedi.  I have to ask, how were you so sure that Luke made my crystal?”

Jacen smiled, as though glad the answer was an easy one.  “It feels like him,” he said.  “Think of it like a distinctive flavor or vibration in the Force.  I’d recognize it anywhere.”  He nodded before he turned away again.  “Good night, Madame Thanas.”

Left with a very mixed impression, Malinza stood and watched him go.  Jacen Solo was an enigma, obviously a man of deep sentiments, fiercely loyal and empathetic one moment, ruthless and merciless the next, and often at the same time.  She thought she could glimpse the boy Luke and Jaina remembered so fondly, now a man trying to bear the burdens of the hour in his own way to the detriment of those who tried to manage him too closely.  

Malinza hadn’t seen Luke or Mara since that evening they had shared dinner after her visit to the Jedi Temple.  By the next day, the afternoon news cycle had been aflame with the report of a murdered Jedi Master right there in Fellowship Plaza, and when Malinza had called she was told the Skywalkers had already left the system on emergency business.  Apparently it had all had something to do with the violent coup attempt in the Hapes Consortium, where the whole family had been present in one capacity or another.  Jaina had apologized for being antisocial, but didn’t want to talk about it.  Luke and Mara had been short but not impolite, exchanging only a few terse messages with her, busy wrangling Ben and then trying to track him after he escaped.  News sources were restricted, and Malinza was hesitant to consult the scandal holos.  Something had happened out there, and part of her was afraid she would never find out exactly what.  Part of her was afraid she would.

Her initial remarks to Fabia hadn’t been facetious.  Deep down, Malinza dreaded being caught on the wrong side of history, of being one of those people who couldn’t overlook tribal loyalties to see the better end, who unthinkingly continued to simply do her job until she couldn’t ignore the stench around her anymore.  Politics always had a smell, she knew, but it seemed the air was getting particularly thick, and the only person Malinza knew she could trust to see the right way in spite of everything was Uncle Luke.

She closed her fingers around her crystal pendant, pleased by the unexpected understanding Jacen had given her.  Malinza couldn’t feel anything different about it, but it warmed her heart to know that it really was alive with some echo of Luke.  It helped her feel close to him, to conjure to mind that elusive calm he always brought her, even as the structure of their whole world seemed ready to shake itself apart.  

She would have to try to call him if it wasn’t too late when she got home.

“Well, Colonel Solo seemed very interested in you,” Fabia teased, sneaking up behind her again.

“Don’t read anything into it,” Malinza warned her.  “I don’t need another unmanageable disappointment in my life.”  

“I don’t know,” Fabia persisted, looking longingly toward the door.  “I might make an exception for him.”

Malinza scoffed.  “Don’t flatter yourself.  That one’s married to the cause, and that kind is always crazy.”  

Our journey through Legacy of the Force continues in Legends Are For the Brave: Chapter 37, Love Is a Choice.

Chapter Text

“Good morning, everyone,” Ambassador Dioscoro welcomed them to her office, sitting down behind her desk with an enormous cup of caf.  “We have new directives from home to consider today.”

“I had heard they were sending something over,” Deputy Andron said, preferring his stimulants cold, sweet, and startlingly blue.  “Dare I ask what they think of the duumvirate?”

“That’s one item among many,” the ambassador admonished him, shuffling through flimsiprint and powering up datapads.  “First things first.  Our prime minister and his council have expressed significant misgivings about the course this war is taking.  Malinza, the question you posed to Colonel Solo gave them much food for thought.  If this proves to be truly a war to the death, Bakura may reconsider its position relative to the GA.”

“They aren’t considering defecting to the Confederation,” Fabia suggested, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Nothing so drastic,” Ambassador Dioscoro assured them.  “Just a more neutral posture.  A provisional independence unless and until the war is resolved, if you will.”

“Will the GA still have access to Bakuran assets under new terms, or are they considering full neutrality?”

“That remains to be seen.  In the meantime, they have asked us to advise the administration on Coruscant of the possibility.”  

Malinza had noted the chilly lack of names in the directive.  Duly-elected chiefs of state did not rest easily with interim chiefs of state who deposed other chiefs of state, especially when there were more than one of them trying to occupy a single seat.  They called it a duumvirate, but it played more like a two-headed monster, and not a very attractive one.

“There are serious questions about the Gejjen assassination,” the ambassador went on.  “We’ve all heard the official story, but we’d be simpletons to imagine GAG and its overlords were sorry to see the man’s head blown off.  Have any of us heard any whispers to the contrary?  I don’t care who your sources may be.  We’ve cultivated a few contacts who might investigate any rumors that turn up.”

Deputy Andron twitched as if he felt a targeting sight trained on his back.  “If true, those sorts of rumors would be dangerous to investigate right now.  Is there any reason not to believe the Corellian activists who claimed responsibility?”

“Besides the fact that they can’t agree on which of them sniped their own prime minister?” Ambassador Dioscoro asked, a rhetorical question.  “It was too clean a job, if you ask me, even if the exit was botched.  Corellia has always been a bit chaotic.  They let Admiral Antilles slip a multi-team hit squad in their own capital, so what makes us think a civilian terrorist cell could pull off a single-shot surgical strike on a foreign world?  That smells like money, like discipline.”

“Like GAG?”

The ambassador shrugged.  “I’m just posing the question.  I might also add that it seems very coincidental that GAG was obviously all over that meeting between Gejjen and Omas, that they had an extensive surveillance op running, and that those recordings were the primary evidence used to depose Omas and place GAG’s commander in his office.”  

The casual way Dioscoro made her case sent a chill down Malinza’s spine.  There was obviously no proof, but the logic was sound.  Colonel Jacen Solo was now joint Chief of State Jacen Solo, a distinction he was allegedly sharing with Admiral Niathal, the GA’s Supreme Commander.  The sudden military regime seemed like no accident.  Colonel Solo had made scrupulously certain each step of the process had been legal, often changing laws and pushing amendments through the Senate within mere days or hours of taking action, like laying track just ahead of a runaway maglev train.  The tension between Jacen and the Jedi had only become more pronounced, which wasn’t something Malinza would have thought much about had she not had a ringside seat to the family drama, but she was starting to understand that what had historically been bad for the Jedi Order had often been bad for the galaxy at large.  

“Bakura is aware of my theory,” Dioscoro continued, “but they won’t acknowledge it without solid evidence.  In the meantime, they’ve agreed to instruct our delegates in the Senate to inspect any new legislation proposed by Colonel Solo and his associates with greater scrutiny.  If they can shine a light on what he’s doing, they might be able to recruit an opposing front.”  She paused and took a long draw from her caf.  “Fabia,” she said, “any news updates since dawn?”

Fabia dutifully flipped open her datapad.  “No further updates on the Mandalorian rearmament,” she reported.  The conflict between Roche and Murkhana remains mostly litigious, but there are signs that the GA’s official warning against military action isn’t likely to be as effective as we hoped.”  She paused and frowned at the feed as it refreshed itself, opened her mouth to speak, but then hesitated.  She looked at Malinza.  “Hey, Lin,” she said cautiously, “you’re friendly with the Skywalkers, aren’t you?”

“Luke and Mara are my sponsor parents,” Malinza said.  It wasn’t a secret, but she didn’t flaunt it at work.  “Why?  Do you want the Grand Master’s candid opinion of his rogue nephew?”

“Oh.”  Fabia paled, and then flushed, her eyes drawn back to the datapad.  “I’m so sorry.  They’re saying Mara Skywalker just died, that she was murdered.  There’s no official confirmation yet, but the Jedi Temple initiated a communications blackout, and no one seems to know where Luke is.”

Malinza barely heard the rest over the blood suddenly pounding in her ears.  Her stomach sank so violently it felt like the floor would swallow her.  “What?”

“They say it happened yesterday, but no one knows exactly where or how.  The initial report seems to have come from a pair of Temple apprentices before the lockdown.  It’s on every channel.”

Malinza wasn’t listening anymore.  She stood and left the table, comlink in hand.

“I told you, there’s an official blackout—”

“They’ll answer me,” Malinza insisted sharply, swallowing a knot of anxiety.  She was armed with some very exclusive comm codes, and right now the holoport in the Grand Master’s office was pinging.  She knew Luke wasn’t there because she had tried to call him that morning, but someone had to be there somewhere.  

The receiver relayed her to an answering program.  Malinza disconnected and dialed again.  There had to be someone.  Again.  And again.  All work in the office had ceased as they watched her attempt to break through the wall of silence.  Finally, someone answered.

“Yes, good morning,” Malinza cut him off, afraid it was quite the opposite.  “I am Malinza Thanas, and I need to speak to a senior Master immediately.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible at the moment,” came the hesitant reply, as though the young Jedi wasn’t entirely certain what was possible or not, and would prefer she just got off the line.  “If you will state your business, I’ll see if someone can get back to you.”

“I need to speak to someone now, please,” Malinza insisted, trembling in spite of herself.  “As I said, I am Malinza Thanas of the Bakuran diplomatic delegation, and I am a personal family friend of the Masters Skywalker.  I suspect you know my business already, and I would be much obliged if you would put me through to a senior Master.  Any of them.  Please.”

The line was quiet, but still open.  “I’m not authorized to do that,” the Jedi insisted, sounding genuinely sorry.  “But I’ll take a message to them if you’d like to leave one.  You said your name was Malinza Thanas?”

“If you shut me down, I will keep calling until I get through to someone,” Malinza threatened, “all day if I have to.  There is no kriffing message.  I need to speak to a Master!”

The connection was terminated.  Malinza scowled through the mist welling in her eyes and fumbled to redial the same code.  It began pinging again.  “That’s practically a confirmation, isn’t it?” she complained.  Again, she landed at the answering program.  She disconnected and dialed again, wondering if she would get any better results by heading over there in a speeder and pounding on the Temple gates in person.

Fabia was awkwardly standing by with a fresh cup of water and a box of tissue, not certain how else to help.  Deputy Andron was mumbling into his own comlink, pressing their contacts in the media for any possible updates.  Malinza bit her lip, just listening to the ready tone as it continued to sound, ready to dial again if she had to.  She would not be ignored, would keep lighting up their comm centers until they either condescended to speak to her or took the entire Temple offline.  

When her call was suddenly accepted, it took her off guard.  “Malinza,” a somber and yet familiar voice answered, “this is Master Katarn.  I expect you have some questions.”

Heart thumping, Malinza slipped into an empty conference room and shut the door.  “Yes, Master Katarn,” she said, trying to steady herself.  “Just tell me what’s going on.  Is it true what they’re saying about Mara?  What happened?”

She could feel the heaviness on the line, and it wrung tears out of her before he even answered.  “Yes, it’s true.  We’re preparing a statement now, but I’m afraid Mara was killed yesterday.  I’m very sorry.”

“What about Luke?” she demanded, slinging the tears away with her hand.

“Luke’s fine.  Well . . . he’s alive,” Master Katarn amended.  “He wasn’t there at the time.  Jaina is with him, and Ben, and they’re assisting with the investigation.  We sent a shuttle to bring them home.  I’m sorry, but there’s not much more I can tell you right now.  I promise I’ll personally keep you informed going forward, all right?”

“All right,” Malinza whispered, her throat almost too tight to speak.  “Thank you.”

She just stood there, alone in that empty room, feeling infinitesimally small.  She tried to remember Aunt Mara, what they said the last time they spoke.  Malinza could see her, but all her memories were overwritten with Master Katarn’s voice.  Killed yesterday . . .  I’m very sorry . . . very sorry . . .

Uncle Luke must be devastated.  

Malinza opened the door and went to rejoin her colleagues, wanting nothing more than to disappear into a dark corner and cry.  They were all looking at her, waiting to hear the news.  She made an effort to clear her throat.  “I probably shouldn’t say anything before they release a statement,” she apologized quietly, knowing the look on her face already said it all, “but I think I need to be excused for the day, please.”

“Take as long as you need, dear,” Ambassador Dioscoro said, keenly sympathetic.  “Keep us informed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It was during the bleak ride home that official word finally broke across the HoloNet.  Malinza overheard it from the back of her airtaxi as she watched Galactic City’s skyline flowing by.

“We have just received an official statement from the Jedi Council on Coruscant confirming that Master Mara Jade Skywalker, the wife of Grand Master Luke Skywalker, has been killed in the commission of her duties by an unknown assailant.  Hapan Queen Mother Tenel Ka, in whose jurisdiction the crime occurred, has promised all available resources to the Jedi Order as the investigation proceeds.  Master Mara Skywalker is the second member of the Jedi Council to be killed this year in what many fear is a steady escalation of wartime violence.”

The taxi pilot sucked his teeth and shook his head.  “Now that’s a real shame,” he said.  “I always liked her.”

“Yeah,” Malinza agreed, trying not to burst into tears until she made it home.  “Me, too.”

She had no idea how she was going to tell Petra.

Our journey through Legacy of the Force continues in Supernova, Chapter 2.

Chapter Text

Once again, Malinza climbed the long stairs up to the gates of the Jedi Temple, this time with Petra on her hip.  The setting sun cast the cityscape in a brilliant orange light that would have been beautiful if life hadn’t seemed quite so cruel.  Maybe it was too soon, but she couldn’t wait anymore.  She had to see Luke.

It seemed the gate attendant held a bit more rank than the one Malinza had encountered before, and the look on her face wasn’t promising.  Malinza lifted her chin and marched up to her like she had every right to be there.  Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“Malinza Thanas,” she said without waiting to be asked, “here for Grand Master Skywalker.”

That sour look deepened.  “No visitors are being admitted at this time,” the grim Jedi informed her.

“We’re not visiting,” Malinza insisted, scanning her identichip anyway.  “We’re family.”

The guard’s eyes dropped to her console, and then turned back to Malinza with undisguised skepticism.  Malinza stared back, undaunted.  She didn’t doubt that the Temple was absolutely closed to visitors, but she was also confident that Luke had left additional instruction on her profile after her last visit, lifting the requirement for an escort and giving her unrestricted access to the common areas.  

Faced with conflicting guidance from the Grand Master and his acting representative, Luke’s signature won out.  The guard gave Malinza a very narrow look, but activated the gate release.  “Enjoy your visit, Madame Thanas.”

“Thank you.”  Malinza set Petra down, and they went inside.  She hadn’t quite decided how she would bluff her way past the next layer of security when she recognized someone with the look of a senior Master already striding toward her.  Her first suspicion was that the guard had tripped some kind of internal alarm, but such things were probably redundant in a building full of Jedi.  

“Malinza,” he said, his expression that of a stern but tolerant father who was admittedly impressed by her initiative.  “Corran Horn.  I guess I should have expected any protege of Mara’s to know how to exploit a good loophole.”

“Good evening, Master Horn,” Malinza said, accepting his hand and choosing to take the remark as a compliment.  “We were hoping to see Master Skywalker.”

“Uncle Luke!” Petra chimed in.  She had brought her stuffed Wookiee and a packet of fruit snacks expressly to help Uncle Luke cheer up.

Master Horn shook his head.  “I don’t think that’s going to happen today,” he said, not unkindly.  “Maybe later, but I know better than to insert myself into this dynamic.  Let’s just say that there’s nothing to prevent you from visiting the Room of a Thousand Fountains.  You may or may not find Ben in there, who as of twenty minutes ago is the only person Luke is willing to see.  Maybe you can work something out between the two of you.”

Malinza nodded.  It wouldn’t do any good to make a scene, and that was the best she was likely to get.  “Thank you, Master Horn.  I appreciate it.”

Corran’s face softened before he left.  “I’m really very sorry, Malinza.  We all are.  I know having you and the little one closer to home these past months made Mara very happy.”  

Malinza wanted to say something gracious, but could only manage to nod again.  Corran understood, and waved her on toward the gardens.

The way was clearly marked for the benefit of visitors, but not very crowded.  It felt like the whole Temple was in mourning, and maybe it was.  It wasn’t hard for Malinza to believe that Mara had been popular among the apprentices, and certainly a very colorful figure on the Jedi Council.  The inner lives of the Jedi were still mysterious to her, but if they were as empathic as she had heard, there must be a thick cloud of sorrow over that place.  

Ben was coming out just as they approached the doors.  He looked twice, taken by surprise.  “Malinza?”

“Hey, Ben,” she said.  Malinza hadn’t seen Ben at all since she had come to Coruscant.  He had moved out just before she arrived, and had been spending all his time with Jacen.  She wasn’t sure she really knew him anymore, but now wasn’t the time to berate him about maybe treating his parents with more consideration.  “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”  He shuffled up to join them in the corridor, and Malinza thought he looked older than he should have.  He was taller than she remembered, though not quite as tall as she was, fleshing out nicely to make the most of his parents’ compact genetic legacy.  He was fourteen now—fourteen going on forty-four—and he had hollows behind his eyes that should only belong to seasoned soldiers.  “Things happen.”

Malinza nodded.  It had to be one of the greatest understatements of the entire war.

Petra pushed her way forward, and looked up at Ben very solemnly.  She understood the circumstances as well as a four-year-old could.  “Do you wanna hug KeeKee?” she asked, offering him the limp toy.

Malinza was ready to suggest that Ben was probably too old for stuffed toys when, to her surprise, he got down on his knees and engulfed Petra in his arms.  It was a little unexpected, especially considering his recent disinterest, but touching.  Petra was happy to oblige, squeezing him as hard as she could manage.  

When Ben finally let her go, Petra offered him the fruit snacks.  “Want some?”

“Oh, no thanks,” Ben begged off, suppressing a half-hearted smile.  “Might spoil my dinner.”

Malinza gestured toward the doors behind him.  “We were headed that way,” she said.  “Do you want to join us, or were you leaving?”

He shrugged.  “I’ll come if you want.  I don’t have anywhere else to be right now.  I’m supposed to be ‘taking it easy,’ but I don’t really know what that means anymore.”

That sounded familiar.  “Don’t want to do anything you need to do, but can’t think of anything to do instead?” Malinza suggested.  

Ben nodded.  “I hate it.”  

The first sight of the gardens took Petra’s breath away.  Then she was running up and down the path, pointing out flowers and trees and fountains and anything else that caught her eye.  “You go explore, sweetheart,” Malinza encouraged her, resisting her attempts to drag her along.  “When you’ve seen everything, you can show me your favorite.”

“Okay, Mommy!”  

“And don’t play in the fountains!” Malinza called after her.

“I’d forgotten how cute she was,” Ben said, looking after Petra’s head of bouncing curls with an expression Malinza would almost call wistful.  “Sorry.  It’s an old family tradition, I guess, being suckers for little kids.”

Malinza didn’t dismiss it, remembering how she had been drawn into that family in the first place.  Ben really did have Luke’s eyes, she noticed, blue enough to stop you from across a room, but the tilt of his features was all Mara.  “She’s really been looking forward to seeing you again,” she said.  

Ben sighed as they walked.  “Yeah.  They told me you were coming to Coruscant, but I guess it slipped my mind.  There’s been a lot going on.”

There certainly had been.  Again, Malinza reminded herself that it was no time for an argument.  “How’s your dad?” she asked instead.  “We were hoping to see him.”

Grimacing, Ben shook his head.  “I don’t think so,” he said.  “I’m sure he’ll want to see you soon, and Petra, but he needs some space right now.  It’s really knocked him back.”

“What about you?” Malinza asked.  Ben had every right to go to pieces himself, but he seemed unusually stoic about the whole thing.

“I’m sure I’ll cry eventually,” he said, frowning at his boots.  “Right now I have too much to do.”

Maybe it was inevitable under the circumstances.  Faced with a grieving parent and an open murder investigation, Ben must be itching to get involved, especially considering his police training.  It was easier to keep grief at bay when there was a problem to solve.  “Do we know anything about what happened?” Malinza asked.  “Or is it all secret state business?”

“Secret Jedi business, more like,” Ben explained, his eyes following Petra as her head bobbed above the grass and her shadow darted between the shrubs.  “How much has Dad told you?”

“Nothing.”

“Then there’s too much for me to explain here.  I’ll just say that there was an old Imperial agent, a Sith, who was bothering Dad for decades.  She recently popped up again, picking fights, causing problems.  Dad assumed she killed Mom, she didn’t deny it, and he killed her.  Unfortunately, we’re sure she didn’t do it, so that leaves us with nothing.  There are a few other suspects.  Jaina’s tracking down one of them.”

Poor Luke.  Malinza knew him well enough to know he certainly wouldn’t get any satisfaction out of killing the wrong person, no matter how much she might have deserved it.  Fairly or unfairly, that probably just compounded whatever guilt he might be feeling over failing to prevent all this in the first place.  

“How was it done?” she asked.  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but somehow she had to ask.

Ben hesitated before answering, but whether he was wrestling with personal or professional qualms, she couldn’t say.  “Poison dart,” he finally told her, brow furrowed.  “Some creep couldn’t take her head-on, so he stabbed her in the leg.”

Malinza was brimming with questions, but it didn’t seem right to pummel Ben with them, no matter how well he seemed to be taking it.  Losing a parent was a trial at any age, but especially when one was old enough to feel obliged to do something about it.  Malinza had been Petra’s age when her world imploded, just an innocent caught in the chaos.  Ben was standing on the cusp of manhood, was trained, seasoned, and apparently fairly competent.  Malinza was beginning to suspect that he was ruminating over plans of his own, but she wasn’t going to pry.  For the time being, she hoped it was nothing more than looking after his father for the next few days.  

“Just tell Luke we’re here for him,” she said.  “I don’t mean to insert myself, but I hope we’ll be welcome at any memorial services for Mara.”

Ben turned a benevolent side-eye on her.  “You managed to insert yourself into the kriffing Jedi Temple despite a level three lockdown,” he pointed out.  “But of course you’ll be welcome.  You’ll be explicitly invited.  I know Mom would want you there, and it’ll be good for Dad.”  

Malinza paused for a breath, poised to say something she probably shouldn’t.  Despite their relationship, she knew very well that she wasn’t privy to all the Skywalkers’ Jedi business, and that there was a lot going on behind that veil than she understood.  Still, she had seen just enough of the ripple effects to be concerned, and it was one of those things that would haunt her if she left it unsaid.  She needed to air it for her own peace of mind.

“Hey,” she said, as gently as possible, stopping on the path and forcing Ben to do likewise.  “Be kind to him.  You know you’re all he has left of her.”

Ben almost scowled.  His eyes sharpened, but then he seemed to reconsider, and the tension eased.  He gave her a knowing look.  “I’m not sure how much you’ve heard,” he said, “but even if you only got half of it, you must think I’m a real brat.”

“Not at all,” Malinza protested, belatedly remembering how pointless it was to lie to a Jedi.  

“Yeah, you do,” Ben countered.  “And you’re not totally wrong.  It probably isn’t all my fault, but somebody has to own it, so it might as well be me.  I’ve had a chance to look back and see things in a new light, and I have to admit Dad wasn’t as far off the mark as I thought he was.  Don’t worry.  Sometimes you don’t know what you’ve got until you lose it, and I don’t mean to let anything come between me and Dad again.”

Malinza smiled.  “That’s good to hear.  And thanks for not punching me in the face for saying so.”

Ben shrugged and started walking again.  “You’d probably punch me back,” he said.  “I heard how you folded Lio before you kicked him out.”

Remembering how Mara had insisted on those martial arts lessons, how close she had seemed to her that night when Malinza had felt most vulnerable, her smile turned decidedly bittersweet.  “I learned from the best,” she said.  

Ben smiled, too, and there was no mistaking his melancholy pride.  “Yeah, you did,” he agreed.  

There were so many emotions, raw grief for Mara and the injustice of it all, grief on behalf of the family she left behind, and at the same time profound appreciation for that family and the mark Mara had left on all of them.  Malinza was proud to be there with them, proud to be one of them, and was more grateful than ever that she wasn’t sitting alone and miserable on Bakura.

She moved to pull Ben into a hug, no matter how awkward it might be.  He stiffened at first, but then surrendered to it, and even returned the affection.  Life was hard enough without trying to face it alone.  

“I should probably go check on Dad,” Ben said, finally pulling away.  “I’ll let him know you came by.”

“Give him these from Petra,” Malinza insisted, handing him the packet of fruit snacks.  “She’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t get them.”

Ben smiled that same sad smile, and tucked them into his pocket.  “Cute kid, Lin,” he said again.  “Tell her goodbye from me.  Oh.”  He stopped just as he was turning to leave.  “Does someone know to keep you in the loop, about ceremony details and stuff like that?”

“Master Katarn promised to keep me informed,” Malinza assured him.

“Okay, good.”  Ben’s expression had darkened again, as if for a few minutes he had been able to forget about his mother’s impending funeral.  “I’ll make sure you’re on the list.”

“Thank you, Ben.  I’m sorry we can’t be more of a help in all this.  Let me know if there’s anything we can do, anything at all.”

“I will,” he promised, and Malinza felt it was more sincere than a simple courtesy.  Prematurely old, prematurely grave, she had no doubt Ben would call her the moment he thought her presence would be helpful.  They may be facing an unimaginable setback, but life still had a lot left in store for all of them.

At a moment like that, Malinza couldn’t decide whether to be encouraged or intimidated.  

Our journey through Legacy of the Force continues in Supernova, Chapter 4.

Chapter Text

40 ABY, Jedi Temple, Coruscant

The assembled crowd rose to disperse all around them, the resident Jedi Knights moving to stand along the corridor like benevolent sentinels, directing the guests to the Hall of Peace.  Malinza stayed in her seat for several minutes, shaken, staring at the empty pyre and allowing the whole event to settle in her mind.  

She’d had no idea what to expect from a Jedi funeral except that it would be a ceremonial cremation, something she hadn’t been sanguine about allowing Petra to see.  She hadn’t been prepared for what had actually happened, and watching Mara’s body slowly vanish before her eyes had been without a doubt the most mystical experience of her life.  It just made her question her understanding of the spiritual universe all over again, an existential distress quite apart from the usual flood of emotion a funeral could be expected to stir up.  

Petra seemed to realize the solemnity of the occasion, accepting what she saw without question.  “Auntie Mara’s gone,” she sighed in her little voice, also staring at the empty wrappings that were left behind.  “Did Auntie Laera disappear, too?”

It was a question Malinza hadn’t expected, and it suddenly made her realize the poor child had lost her father, her home, and two grandmother aunts in a single year.  “Not quite that way,” she decided.  

Petra accepted that answer.  To one so young, it probably didn’t seem unreasonable to believe there were many different ways to disappear.  People had been disappearing from her life with some regularity lately.

“Come on,” Malinza said, stowing her tears and pointing the way out of their row now that all the heads of state had been escorted away.  “Let’s go see Uncle Luke and Ben.”

They joined the thinning crowd crossing the courtyard toward the reception.  On the way out, Malinza saw that Luke still had the Masters sequestered in the rear foyer, no doubt hashing out an appropriate response to Colonel Solo’s transgressions.  That whole drama had been wild, especially considering the personages involved and the sensitivity of the occasion.  A train wreck of etiquette indiscretions for the histories, for sure.  

The political climate being what it was, Malinza imagined there would be competing accounts of the event in tomorrow's news, but Jacen had behaved like a bore, and no amount of spin could completely conceal that.  But tomorrow’s news could keep until then.  Right now she just wanted to see Luke.

“Jacen won’t be there, will he?” Petra asked, pulling on her hand.  

“I don’t think so, sweetie,” Malinza said.  “I think he left.”

“Good.  He’s scary.”

It was the most descriptive word in her four-year-old repertoire, but it was quite apt.  There was indeed something scary about Jacen lately.  

The Hall of Peace was alive with the low roar of a crowd of people having polite conversation.  Malinza secured a plate of tidbits for Petra and sat them down facing the door.  She knew it was selfish of her, but she hoped Luke wasn’t planning on ducking out.  She wouldn’t have blamed him, but that week had seemed like a year, and she needed to see that he was going to be all right.

The Masters arrived and quietly dispersed into the gathering a few minutes later.  Petra abandoned her cheese and vegetable sticks, scrabbling out of her chair to run across the room and jump into Luke’s arms.  

Malinza went to join them, and got a hug in turn.  “Thanks for coming,” Luke said, settling Petra on his hip.  He still looked rough, but at least he was attempting to smile again.  “It’s good to see you both.”

“Are you kidding?” Malinza protested, willing herself not to cry.  “I would have climbed the walls if they hadn’t let me in.”  Unable to help herself, she leaned in for another hug.  “I’m so sorry,” she said, holding onto him as though part of her was afraid he might also evanesce into some other plane of existence.  “I tried to call as soon as I heard.  I’ve been so worried about you.”

Luke sighed, Malinza’s cue to let him go.  “Everybody needs to stop fussing about me,” he said.  He wasn’t being resentful, just honest.  “We have too much to do.”

“The way you say that makes me want to crawl into a hole somewhere and estivate,” Malinza complained, only partially joking.  She knew what Mara had been to him, so much more than a simple life companion.  “Come on.  Even galactic heroes can spare a few days at a time like this.”

Luke shrugged with his face, grudgingly granting the point.  “But not much more, I’m afraid,” he said.  “They’re prepping the StealthXs now.  We launch in two hours.”

Malinza couldn’t mask her exasperation.  “Are you serious?  The funeral hasn’t been over for twenty minutes, and you already have flight orders?  Has Jacen not got a drop of decency left?  You look like you haven’t slept all week.”  

“Actually, the ceremony wasn’t quite over yet when Jacen made his request,” Luke wryly pointed out, “and he’s just doing what he thinks he has to.  Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the way.  I may look like mopak warmed over, but I still know how to lead a battle-meld.”

Malinza was about to protest that he shouldn’t have to, but without warning Luke’s half-hearted smile vanished and his eyes turned glassy.  Her stomach flip-flopped, and she lunged forward to catch Petra, afraid he might be having a stroke.  When he didn’t fall, a quick look around the room confirmed that other Masters were suffering the same phenomenon, and Malinza realized it must somehow be the Force at work.  Whatever the reason, it didn’t look good.

And then Luke was back, back but not entirely present, and grimmer than ever.  The Council quietly gathered around him without having to be called, at least not in any way Malinza could hear, trying not to disturb those guests who hadn’t yet noticed anything amiss.  Ben came, too.  No one asked Malinza to leave, and Luke was still holding Petra, so she stayed.  

Luke glanced around the circle, brows low and heavy.  “Ossus?” he asked.  They all nodded.  “How many do you think?”

“Several companies, at least,” Master Katarn said.

“I’d say so,” Master Horn agreed, “with all the heavy support vehicles that go with them.  Maybe as many as six, but it was hard to tell.” 

“I make it a whole battalion,” Luke said.

“Dad,” Ben interjected, “what are you talking about?” 

“Kam and Tionne reached out to us,” Luke explained in that oppressively gentle tone that usually meant bad things.  “GAG has occupied the academy.”

Those Masters who had not had the benefit of the complete picture darkened with understanding, and there were some growls and whispered curses.  Ben was furious.  “He was ready to take everything!” he complained.  “He decided to let the Temple go, but now he’s got the whole academy to keep you leashed!”

“Maybe so,” Luke granted, indicating that Ben should lower his voice, “but even Jacen wouldn’t think of harming the younglings if he knows what’s good for him.  We’ll deal with this in our own way as soon as we can, but as you can see, our options are limited right now.”

“Because all the Masters are here,” another of them spat, the slightly feral one with the long hair.  “And almost all the Knights.  We left all those kids just sitting there, like shaaks for the slaughter.”

Master Horn rolled his eyes.  “You have such a way with words, Kyp.”

Malinza forced herself to swallow, her throat suddenly very dry.  Jacen might not be there, but he was certainly making his presence felt.  It was that same allied betrayal that Deputy Harris had suckered her with all those years ago.  Luke had pulled himself up again only to feel the point of a blade in his back, coercing that cooperation that might have been freely given.  It changed the dynamic instantly.

“So, what are we going to do?” Ben demanded again.

“Exactly what we were going to do anyway,” Luke said.  “We’re going to put our wing together and join the Fourth Fleet.”

“But, Dad, you’re just letting him force you to—”

“Jacen’s not forcing me to do anything,” Luke insisted severely.  “We were already going to fly before we knew about any of this.  Besides, if Jacen thinks his ploy is working, he’ll be content to keep the academy in his back pocket until we can circle back and take matters into our own hands.  That whole battalion will have to get through Kam and Tionne before they can try anything, and they aren’t the only ones out there.  Where did you say Jaina and the boys were headed?”

“To Ossus,” Master Horn answered, nodding, “following Alema.”

“There,” Luke said, steady if not content.  “Never underestimate Jaina’s capacity for mayhem, and Zekk and Jag know how to handle themselves.  In the meantime, the rest of us are going to move very carefully, because the atmosphere just got a whole lot more combustible.  All right?”

He got the grumbled assent of everyone present.  

“Okay.  Everyone assigned to the StealthX wing, you know what to do.  Kyle, I want you to stay behind to manage things here, just in case.”

“Yes, Master.”

Secret weapons like Master Katarn . . .   Malinza still remembered that conversation they’d had when she first visited the Temple.  With the specter of Operation Knightfall hovering in the air, Luke clearly still had contingency plans in place for his people on Coruscant.  

The impromptu council broke up, and even Ben left, probably to find someplace quiet to calm down.  

Luke drew a few deep breaths to center himself, and Petra—understanding only that something very bad was happening—slipped her little arms around his neck.  That drew a smile out of him, a warm but profoundly melancholy smile.  “Malinza,” he said, “I need you to do something for me, too.”

“Name it,” Malinza agreed.  She was tired of feeling so superfluous.

“I want you to leave Coruscant,” Luke explained.  “Beg off at work.  Ask for a leave of absence, bereavement leave, anything.   I want you to get yourself and Petra far away from here and wait for me to contact you, all right?”

Malinza found herself speechless.  She had uprooted her whole life just a few months ago to be there, and now he was sending her back?  “Is that really necessary?” she asked.

“Don’t fight me on this,” Luke pleaded with her.  “It’s getting rough out there, and with Jacen apparently determined to box me in, I don’t want him paying you any unwanted attention.  Disappear.  We’ll regroup when this is over.”

A thousand protests rose to her tongue—that she wanted to stay with him, that he was treating her like a child again, that she was a grown woman with a career and responsibilities—but always in the background was the apparently undeniable fact that co-Chief of State Solo was emboldened enough to hold the entire Jedi academy hostage to guarantee his will was done.  Malinza conjured an image of GAG troopers at her door just to confirm how ridiculous it was, and yet it seemed more real than she liked.  “You just want me out of the way,” she said instead, feeling more superfluous than ever.

“Yes,” Luke admitted, unapologetic.  “I can’t do the same with Ben.  He’s Jedi enough to be in the thick of it whether I like it or not.  I need to know that you and this little girl are safe.  Do this for me.  Please.”

His sincerity was scaring her.  Malinza put the practical difficulties out of mind to focus on the big picture, which she realized was ultimately to remove her from harm’s way.  She wasn’t irreplaceable at work, but she and Petra were irreplaceable to Luke, and he was stretched thin enough as it was.  Besides, his premonitions never seemed to be far off the mark.

“I will,” she promised.  “I’ll wrap things up and get us on the first available out of here.”

Luke relaxed, and he pulled her into a hug with his free arm.  “Thanks.  I just don’t know how much longer we can hold this arrangement together.  One day Jacen is going to push and I’m not going to give, and I don’t want you getting caught in the fallout.”

“Well, I appreciate that, Uncle Luke,” Malinza said, “I do, but I just wish there was something we could actually do for you.”

“You can have lunch with me,” he suggested, indicating a few available seats nearby.  “Come on, I need to eat something real before we’re consigned to onboard rations for the next few weeks.”

Our journey through Legacy of the Force continues in Supernova, Chapter 6.

Chapter Text

40 ABY, Galactic City, Coruscant

Malinza found herself staring at the vidscreen in her living room after Petra was asleep, uneasily mesmerized by the bad news dominating the broadcast.

“ . . . full-scale evacuation of the Jedi Temple, seeming to confirm the initial reports from Kuat that Grand Master Luke Skywalker staged a mass mutiny of the StealthX pilots under his command after provoking a violent altercation with co-Chief Colonel Solo.  In Colonel Solo’s absence, Admiral Niathal has expressed reluctance to move against the Jedi Temple directly, but all members of the Order are now officially designated enemy combatants and subject to arrest within all GA member states. . . .”

On the one hand Malinza couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but on the other it made sense, particularly when Jacen was involved.  It seemed like a drastic thing to do, but Luke wouldn’t have done it if he’d had any other choice.  As for the rest of it, she was still inclined to believe there had been a good reason for the fight, rather than suppose Master Skywalker had suddenly taken leave of his senses.  All things considered, it was definitely time to get away from Coruscant for a while.  If Luke had been concerned about reprisals before this, Malinza didn’t want to be anywhere near Colonel Solo now.

She had done as Luke had asked.  Ambassador Dioscoro had approved a period of bereavement leave, the request had been processed by their home government, and a plucky intern had been promoted to fill the absence until Malinza’s return.  Transport back to Bakura had been arranged for her and Petra, and they were due to depart the next afternoon.  Malinza was supposed to be finishing the packing, but she was standing listlessly in the middle of the room sipping a glass of wine and watching the holonews instead.  It was still a lot to process.  

“. . . Wookiees have yet to make a commitment, and now with the Jedi deserting, the outcome at Kuat is anything but certain.  What was projected to be a decisive victory has dragged into a slaughter, a costly endeavor for both the Alliance and the Confederation.”

Her comlink buzzed, startling her out of her exasperated stupor.  She looked at it, mildly surprised to see it was a message from Luke.  

PING ME.

He was asking for her coordinates, checking up on her.  He was going to be annoyed that she hadn’t left yet, but she didn’t exactly have a private starfighter she could just hop into at a moment’s notice.  She keyed her comlink to generate her current location and send it back.  

She really should finish packing.  Malinza stowed the comlink in her pocket, poured some more wine, and got back to it.  She hadn’t been planning on leaving anytime soon, and had been doing more shopping than was probably prudent.  She’d been obliged to buy extra travelling cases for their clothes and accessories, and was starting to consider sending them separately as freight.  She’d withdrawn all her available funds on Coruscant into a stack of anonymous credcards, all tucked neatly into sleeves in a thick bank folder.  That much was absolutely staying in her personal carry case.  She should probably keep Petra’s travel snacks in there, too.

Her comlink buzzed again.  Malinza sighed and fished it out.

ARE YOU INSANE?  LEAVE NOW.

A jolt of anxiety set her heart pounding.  It was as short as Luke had ever been with her, and his fear jumped off the screen.  Maybe she had underestimated the danger.  But a chief of state wouldn’t violate someone in the diplomatic service of an allied world, would he?

Would he?

Malinza decided she probably shouldn’t count on common courtesies, remembering that Luke had just seen fit to physically assault the chief of state in question.  The way the order in their world seemed to be disintegrating around them was deeply unsettling.  

Her first instinct was to call him, but she didn’t know where he was.  Luke was probably hiding out in some far-flung system with a horde of displaced Jedi to deal with, so he couldn’t help her.  Malinza dug out the flimsi packet that came with her travel chits, found the comm code for the customer service desk, and called it.  Maybe there was some way to move her reservation up by several hours.

She’d have to get Petra awake and dressed, maybe even leave half their cases behind . . .

“Thank you for calling your customer service representative,” an artificially pleasant droid voice finally answered.  “Your call is very important to us, and will be answered in the order it was received.  There are currently sixty-four callers ahead of you.”

Malinza hissed and switched off.  Her hands were trembling now, and she breathed to steady herself, weighing her options.  Panic was probably uncalled for, and certainly counterproductive.  She’d certainly had too much wine already to take herself anywhere, but she could call an airtaxi. 

And go where?  

The Jedi Temple was the only place she could think of, but that wouldn’t be much of a sanctuary for long, not the way they were gutting the place and clearing out.  Malinza fumbled with her comlink again, cueing the code for the main Temple comm center.  Luke’s office would for sure be deserted.  

She nervously fingered the white lightsaber crystal hanging from her neck as she waited for an answer, wishing Luke would somehow apparate at her door and take them away.  You’re not helpless, she reminded herself.  They taught you better than that.   Still, Malinza felt rather helpless at the moment.  Everyone else in question carried weapons, swords made of laser beams, and could fly themselves anywhere in the galaxy at will, even Ben.  All she carried was a stylus and a nail file, and she had barely mastered the skylanes.  Her fifteen-year-old self would have been disappointed that she hadn’t made any effort to improve her proficiency with a blaster.

Malinza had almost despaired of the Temple as well when someone finally opened the channel.  “Yes, thank you,” she said, her words all tumbling into each other, “I know it’s a bad time, but I find myself unexpectedly in need of some assistance, and I was wondering if I could speak to whomever is in charge right now.”

“Master Katarn is supervising the evacuation.  Would you like me to raise him?”

“That would be perfect.  We’ve spoken before.”

“Whom shall I say is calling?”

“Malinza Thanas.”

“Hold, please.”

Her wishful vision of Luke shifted to become Kyle Katarn.  Malinza would welcome anyone at that point.  

“Hey, Malinza,” Kyle said, as casually as if it were any other weekday.

“Thank you, Master Katarn,” she answered, trying to sound equally composed.  “Listen, considering the present circumstances, Luke wants me offworld as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

“I made arrangements, but they aren’t good until late tomorrow, and I’m getting the impression he doesn’t think I should wait that long.  I’m short of other options at the moment, and didn’t know who else to call.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kyle assured her.  “Just stay put, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.  Send me your address.”

“I will, and we’ll be waiting.  Thanks so much.”

Malinza quickly sent the address and the planetary coordinates for good measure.  Then she went to wake Petra.

“Come on, baby,” she said, gently shaking her daughter awake.  “We have to wake up now.”

“It’s morning?” Petra droned, incredulous.

“No, but we have to go somewhere, back to the Jedi Temple.”

Petra flung aside her bedding with new enthusiasm.  “Uncle Luke?”

“Maybe,” Malinza lied, just needing compliance at that moment.  “Let’s get dressed.”

She threw the next day’s clothes on the child, and sat her in front of a holoprogram while she sorted out their luggage, forcing down a nervous twinge of nausea.  Jedi did not lead extravagant lives, so Malinza was already resigning herself to the reality that Master Katarn probably wasn’t going to be able to accommodate her six large wardrobe cases.  She set about rearranging the contents of the two smallest to include only essentials.

An intrusive banging on her door that could barely be called a knock in any polite society sent Malinza’s heart rocketing into her throat.  Petra froze on the couch, eyes wide.

“Malinza Thanas,” called a firm masculine voice from the corridor, “this is Sergeant Taric with the Galactic Alliance Guard.  Please open the door for both your safety and ours.”

Malinza was torn for a moment.  It was too late to turn off the lights and pretend they weren’t home.  She considered trying to stall them, but if she knew anything about GAG troopers, they weren’t the patient sort, and she didn’t want them barging in and catching anyone in the crossfire, especially not with Petra there.  For lack of any better option, she composed herself and answered the door.

Three black-uniformed troopers with blaster rifles at the ready pushed her aside and made entry, two of them stalking through all the rooms of her apartment shouting “Clear!” at the top of their lungs while the third, a tall and broad sort, kept a wary eye on her and Petra.  Malinza opened her mouth to protest, but never had a chance.

“Madame Thanas,” Sergeant Taric began, “has Luke Skywalker made any attempt to contact you?”

A denial rose to the tip of her tongue, but died before she could commit.  Luke wouldn’t ask her to lie, he didn’t need her to defend him, and alleged contact wasn’t a crime.  Besides, they could easily check her comlink.  So her answer came out a slurred, “Nnn-yes.”  Probably making an excellent first impression.

“What did he want?”

“To know where I was,” Malinza confessed, aware that the exchange was archived in its entirety and could be easily recalled.  

“Where were you?”

“Here.  At home.”

The sergeant’s face tried to soften into a knowing look, but it just came off as smug.  “Considering the unpredictable nature of Master Skywalker’s recent actions, Colonel Solo thinks it best if we take you and your child into protective custody.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Malinza insisted.  Stall, stall, stall.   “We’re perfectly safe here.  I didn’t think Master Skywalker was even on Coruscant.”  

“Nonetheless, Colonel Solo is granting you protective custody,” Taric maintained.  “We aren’t authorized to leave you here alone, ma’am.  Think about what’s best for the little one.”

“I am,” Malinza said, both indignant and scared now.  The two other troopers had taken up positions behind and to the side of her, effectively boxing them into the living room.  “We won’t be needing any of the Colonel’s protection.”

“Jacen?” Petra interjected, a skeptical sneer on her angelic face.  “Don’t wanna see Jacen.”

“The Colonel will be the judge of that.”  Sergeant Taric drew himself up and stuck his chest out.  “Don’t make a fuss.  You don’t want to set a bad example for your daughter.”

He clearly wasn’t going to budge.  Malinza didn’t want to go anywhere, especially not with Master Katarn on the way.  Unless she could sneakily send him updated coordinates, he wouldn’t know where to find them.  

Just a few more minutes . . .   

Unable to think clearly while her home was occupied by armed men, Malinza forcibly emptied her mind for a moment, and after that blank instant of serenity the first thought to occur to her was something she had learned in one of those martial arts classes.  There were different ways to counter an attack, and sometimes passive resistance could be more effective than the active variety.  So she changed tack.  

“Okay, fine,” Malinza said, “but the least the Colonel can do is let me finish packing.  I’ll be done in a minute.”

She proceeded to go about her business, and the GAG troopers seemed content to let her.  Malinza quietly fussed over coordinating outfits for Petra, rearranging the contents of her cases, trying to look as busy and as productive as possible while not really doing anything worthwhile. 

Hurry up, Master Katarn.

Finally catching on, Sergeant Taric stepped up and pushed the lid of her carry case closed himself.  “Enough,” he said.  “Your things will be brought to you.  Let’s go.”  He signaled his men to bring up the rear, and pointed at the vidscreen.  “Turn that off.”

Not sure what else to do, or what might happen if she tried to grab Petra and run, Malinza stubbornly kept hold of her primary carry case and held out her other hand for Petra, who was on the verge of a tantrum as they were escorted out into the corridor.

“Don’t wanna see Jacen!” she insisted, clutching her limp Wookiee and trying to walk very slowly.  “Wanna see Uncle Luke!”

A few glances were exchanged between the troopers, and it seemed Uncle Luke’s new status as a traitor to the state wasn’t doing them any favors.

Malinza slipped her comlink back into her hand, hoping to send a sequence of updated coordinates to Master Katarn, but Sergeant Taric snatched it away and tossed it into the hallway trash chute.  “Move,” he said, prodding her in the back.

They were running out of plays as they reached the speeder lot on the roof.  Standing there in plain sight, it still wasn’t too late for Master Katarn to come swooping out of the sky.

“Get in,” the sergeant barked, opening the door on an armored black speeder.

Malinza balked.  She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but she was absolutely certain she was not getting into that speeder.

“Stop resisting,” Taric warned her, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her forward.  “Get in the speeder.”

“No Jacen!” Petra was screaming, also refusing to move.  “Let go!  Wanna see Uncle Luke!”

“This can go one of two ways,” Sergeant Taric said into Malinza’s ear, looming over her shoulder.  “Get in the speeder with your little girl, or I’m putting restraints on you both.”

Her every nerve was tingling, desperate to run, to escape, to fight, but what could she do against three armed men?

Petra reached the end of her tolerance first.  “Uncle Luke!” she shrieked, and smashed her guard squarely in the groin.

As he crumpled, the other two turned for a split second, long enough for Malinza to drive her elbow into the sergeant’s face and punch the other in the throat.  She closed her fingers around the first blaster she could reach, and shot all three of them before they could recover.

Standing there and trying not to hyperventilate, Malinza thanked Mara again for those lessons.  Saved by desperation, muscle memory, and professional complacency.

“They’re dead?” Petra asked, her eyes bugging out.  

“No, sweetie, they’re just sleeping,” Malinza said, belatedly grateful the blaster had already been set for stun.  She hadn’t given it a thought in the moment.  Switching back to the kill setting, she shot out all the roof cams she could see, shaking like a leaf in the wind.  “Come on, let’s hide.”

GAG would be following up soon.  They couldn’t go back home, they couldn’t take a speeder, they couldn’t stay put, they couldn’t call anyone, and they couldn’t hide too well for fear of missing Master Katarn when he came.  The dumpster on the corner of the roof caught her eye, and as much as she hated the idea, Malinza knew it might be their best bet.

It had been a hot day, and the metal was still very warm to the touch after hours in full sun.  It wouldn’t fool an advanced sensor package, but it might misdirect a simple infrared scan.  Malinza opened the top and tossed in their carry case.  “Come on,” she beckoned to Petra.  “I’ll lift you up.”

“Eww, stinky!” Petra complained, wrinkling her nose.

“I know, baby,” Malinza apologized, “but we have to win this game, or they’ll take us to Jacen.  So come on.”

If it was a game, Petra was in it to win it.  She let Malinza lift her to the opening, and then jumped down into the crush of garbage bags inside.  Malinza hoisted herself in next, thankful she had at least continued to make time for the gym.  Trying not to dwell on the nauseating stench of moldering refuse, she built a fort of trash bags around them to scramble their sensor signature, and closed the lid again.  

It was hot and in all ways horrible in there.  Malinza didn’t know how Petra could stand it, but that little imp was stubborn when she put her mind to something.  Just out of an abundance of caution, Malinza pulled over another trash bag and propped it over her head, just in case someone took a peek inside.

They weren’t a moment too soon.  They could hear the sirens as another GAG squad arrived on the scene.

“Hey, they’re alive!  Yeah, all three of them.  Just stunned.”

“Any sign of the girl?  Why’d she run?  It was just a protective detail.”

“Never know, do you?  Maybe she was a sympathizer, didn’t want to risk it.”

“Where’d she go?”

“How am I supposed to know?  She shot all the cams.  Could probably get the neighboring building tomorrow.  Bet she took a speeder and ran.”

“What about that?  Maybe she’s in there.”

“And maybe she took a nose dive off the roof and flew to Hesperidium!  Kriffing idiot, she’s got a kid with her!  No mother is going to put her kid in a hot dumpster.”

Petra giggled.  “We’re winning,” she whispered.

Malinza shushed her.

“Better check just to be sure.”

For a few heart-stopping moments, the lid was opened again, admitting some fresh air as the GAG trooper shone his lamp around the inside.  Malinza hunched beneath the garbage bag on her head and held herself rigid.

“Whew, that shavit stinks!  I guess you’re right.”  The lid slammed down again.  “Probably took a speeder.”

“That’s what I said.  Now help me get these guys to medical.  When they wake up they can explain how they managed to get decked by a woman with a little kid.”

They’d been lucky.  Malinza was still counting on Master Katarn to be more discerning than those two.  She listened as best she could as the first squad and their speeder were recovered by the second, barely breathing until they all left.  She didn’t dare open the lid for fear they had posted a sentry or something.  

After what seemed like an eternity of putrid silence, someone else opened the lid and pushed the garbage bag off her head.  “Malinza?”

Petra, unable to stand it anymore, jumped up with the appropriate response for winning a game of hide-and-seek.  “Found you!”  

“Hey, Petra!  I’m Master Katarn.  Let’s get you two out of there.”

Spirited away from their tower before GAG could send someone to turn their apartment upside-down, Malinza and Petra and their one precious carry case were smuggled under cover of darkness into the nearly deserted Jedi Temple.

Master Katarn showed them to the sanitary facilities, where they were able to quickly shower and change their clothes, and then immediately took them to a hangar where their ride was waiting.  Poor KeeKee the Wookiee wouldn't be dry for a while yet, but she smelled better.

“It was a judgment call,” Kyle was explaining as they walked, giving her the insider’s version of what Luke had done and why.  “We’ve all been waiting for him to make it, and he finally had enough.  Whatever Jacen said to him just cemented it.  I wasn’t there, but I think Luke suspects Jacen quietly arranged the Omas assassination and positioned Ben to take the fall.”

Malinza sputtered in jaded disbelief.  It had been a crazy few weeks.  “I guess that would do it,” she agreed, leading Petra by the hand.

“The war just got more complicated, but I think it’ll be a turn for the better.  Now,” Master Katarn said, turning their attention to the last ship bigger than a snubfighter in the whole place, “feast your eyes on the Moldy Crow III, your ticket to kinder skies.  And this is your captain, an old friend of mine, Jan Ors.  Jan, Malinza and Petra Thanas.”

“My pleasure, ladies.”  Captain Ors was a petite older woman with keen eyes and a confident smile, her dark silvered hair pulled into a practical spacer’s bun.  The peculiar strength of her handshake reminded Malinza so distinctly of Luke that she suspected it may be cybernetic.  “You’re trusting me with Skywalker’s girls?  No pressure.”

“That’s two of us,” Master Katarn agreed, and then he turned back to Malinza.  “Jan can drop you by Bakura before completing the rest of her run.  Now, considering what happened this evening, I’m not sure how safe any Alliance-affiliated world will be for you.  Maybe Bakura has the backbone to defend its citizens against executive overreach from Coruscant, but you did assault three GAG troopers and escape their custody, so if Jacen wants you bad enough he could probably write up one doozy of a warrant.  You might not want to go straight home.”

Malinza felt her heart sink, the galaxy once again seeming impossibly vast and empty as all the people she knew disappeared into their own fortified crevices.  “Where am I supposed to go?” she asked, determined not to cry in front of Petra.

Master Katarn looked sympathetic.  “I’m sure it goes without saying that Luke would be happy to stash you at his new secret base, if you’re willing.  There’s a risk in that, too,” he hurried to explain.  “After all, you’d be throwing in your lot with some of the most wanted fugitives in the galaxy.”

“I’d rather be a fugitive with friends than a fugitive alone,” Malinza said.  It wasn’t even a question in her mind.  “Especially if those friends are well-armed.”  

“Me, too!” Petra spoke up, overtired and overstimulated, but keen to be a part of whatever was happening.

“All right, then,” Master Katarn smiled, tousling the little girl’s hair.  “There’s still some work to do on the place, so we’ll put you on Bakura for the moment and circle back for you.  Don’t tell anyone you’re back, and stay at some random address, a hotel or something.  Here.”  He handed her an identichip that Malinza had to imagine was false.  “I thought we might need this, so I programmed it for you while you were cleaning up.  It’s not good enough to get you into any secure facilities, but it should be plenty to rent a room.”  

Malinza looked at it, and read the name Kore Tasia.  “Is she real?” she asked.

“One of ours,” Kyle admitted sadly.  “One of the StealthX pilots we lost at Balmorra last week.  We haven’t legally reported her death yet, so it shouldn’t trip any checks if you don’t use it too much.  Technically all Jedi are under suspicion now, but nobody on Bakura is going to be looking for her, and her name is a lot more anonymous there than yours.  She looked enough like you that the description should match the image.”

Malinza nodded.  She felt strange about borrowing a dead Jedi’s identity, but under the circumstances she imagined Kore might have been happy to oblige.  Master Katarn was a man of many talents, it seemed.

“Give me your comlink, and I’ll give you Luke’s new code.”

“That lovely GAG officer trashed it,” Malinza told him.

Kyle frowned.  “Hold on.”  He trotted over to the last StealthX and rummaged in the cargo bay for a few minutes.  When he came back, he handed her a new and unremarkable replacement, not half so fancy as her old one but adequate.  “I seem to be passing these out like candy these days,” he said.  “I’ve programmed it with my code and Luke’s, and I’ll forward yours to him.  Send us your location when you have one, and one of us will come for you.”  He frowned again, his eyes drawn to her neck.  “And keep wearing that crystal,” he added, indicating her necklace.  “It’ll help Luke find you.  He already knows how to pick you out of a crowd, but that would make it a lot easier.  Like a blood trail.”

Malinza blinked incredulously.  That day just kept getting stranger.  “Like a what?”

“It’s a Force technique,” Kyle explained, “a little arcane, from the Nightsisters of Dathomir.  If a Jedi marks his quarry with his own blood, it’s easier for him to track his own life signature than someone else’s.  This is kind of the same thing.”

“But won’t that draw Jacen to me, too?” Malinza asked, remembering Colonel Solo’s overpowering fascination with that crystal.

“Jacen is too busy to comb the galaxy for you in person,” Kyle assured her.  “Ben isn’t with him anymore, and I don’t think he has any other Force-sensitive minions available to track you down.”

Malinza nodded, granting the logic.  “Okay.”  She was starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the whole ordeal.  “You know, my ex-husband wondered if Luke had possibly hidden a tracker in this necklace, and I never thought I’d have to admit he was on to something.”

Kyle laughed.  “I’m sure that wasn’t Luke’s original intention,” he said.  “Or maybe it was.  I’ve never had any daughters to worry me sick by getting married, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Come on,” Captain Ors prodded them.  “The sooner we break gravity, the better.”

“She’s right,” Kyle agreed.  “Good luck, Malinza.  Remember, stay low, don’t do anything that would identify you, and play it cool.  Send us your location, and we’ll pick you up when we can.  May the Force be with you both.”

“And with you,” Malinza said, and meant it.  

She couldn’t see the Force, but she had seen more evidence of it recently than any other religious assumption she had ever made.  If that was truly what was out there, she hoped they all had it on their side. 

Our journey through Legacy of the Force will continue in Legends Are For the Brave, Chapter 39.

Chapter Text

40 ABY, Salis D’aar, Bakura

After almost three weeks, the outlaw life had lost all its glamor.  

By that time, Malinza had memorized the pattern on their ceiling, knew it was exactly fifteen steps from the back of the room to the door, and had the sing-song themes from the local children’s programs embedded in her brain.  It was more comfortable than her brief stint as a revolutionary runaway in her teens, but the stakes seemed higher, especially now that she had a child with her.

They were hiding in a hotel of middling quality in Salis D’aar, as Master Katarn had suggested.  They never went out, surviving on the food available from the room service menu.  There wasn’t much to see from their window, just a speeder lot on the ground five floors below, so they kept the drapes drawn.  Deprived of her work and every other useful pursuit, Malinza passed the time binging on news updates on her datapad while Petra watched entirely too much HoloNet.  

A curious search of the GA’s public list of wanted fugitives—a very lengthy file—revealed her name and face neatly tucked between an arms trafficker and a terrorist, and made her wonder what had happened to her life.  

Malinza Thanas: ASSAULT on law enforcement officer, SEDITION (suspected).

Those weren’t exactly the accolades she had been chasing all her life, but alphabetically she wasn’t listed too far below the Skywalkers and the Solos, all of them credited with treason, sedition, terrorism, criminal damage, desertion, assault, murder, attempted murder, grand larceny, insurrection, espionage, and the like.  At least she was in good company.  

Elsewhere in the city, deep inside their mansion, the Kedricks must be congratulating themselves on their escape.  

She’d been following the Battle of Kashyyyk since they’d arrived.  It was long over now, but still the subject of extensive commentary, especially as holos of the violence leaked from non-official sources.  The Coruscanti media was a firestorm of its own, though still generally sympathetic to co-Chief Solo.  Malinza had begun confining herself to local Bakuran channels for a less histrionic analysis.  

Petra heaved a child’s sigh as her program ended and the next threatened to begin.  “Mommy,” she said, “are we stuck here?”

“Just for now,” Malinza said, wondering the same thing herself.  “Just until the game ends.”

“Did Master Katarn forget?”

Doubtful.  Malinza had sent him their coordinates a few times already.  “No, sweetie, there’s just a lot going on right now.  As soon as they can, Master Katarn or Uncle Luke will come find us.  Aren’t you going to finish your dinner?”

Petra shook her head.  “I’m tired of it,” she said.

That was understandable.  “Me, too,” Malinza confessed.  She had considered trying to order something in from local restaurants a few times, but when she weighed better food against their safety, the risk dampened her appetite.  “Let’s get you ready for sleep, then.”

After Petra was cleaned, dressed, and tucked into her oversized bed, Malinza turned off the lights and just stood in the darkness.  She should get ready for bed herself, but she just couldn’t be bothered.  Instead, she lay down on her own bed, activated her earpiece, and lost herself again in the news coverage on her datapad.

“Surely, we have to acknowledge that burning the wroshyrs, especially the targeting of the cities, was categorically a war crime, whatever the reason.”

“No, I agree, but Coruscant might see it a bit differently.  The official reason given was—”

“Blatant propaganda, is what it was.  We all know Solo was there to settle a private vendetta against his uncle and the rest of the Jedi.”

“—was to draw Confederation forces away from Kuat, which it did, effectively halting the advance on the Core worlds.  Now, Kuat was a bloodbath precisely because the Jedi bailed at the last minute when the whole strike plan had been built around them.  I wouldn’t be surprised to see the consequences of both Kuat and Kashyyyk laid at the door of the Jedi Order.”

“That’d be some spin, considering it was the Grand Master who finally stopped the barrage.”

“Those allegations are unsubstantiated by any reputable—”

“They’re substantiated by everyone who was there, everyone not wearing an Alliance uniform.  Colonel Solo’s state-of-the-art batteries all go up in flames at the same time, and he disappears into intensive medical care?  Who else was it supposed to be?  Mandalorians?”

“Also, you’ll notice there was no official announcement, but after the battle, we can see that GAG Lieutenant Ben Skywalker was quietly added to that roster of fugitives, charged with sedition, conspiracy, and attempted murder.  And, if you’ll compare the archived copies, Grand Master Skywalker’s charges of murder and attempted murder date to the same time.  Something obviously happened.”

“Be that as it may, the Jedi must bear some blame here.”

“Why?  The Jedi don’t enjoy wide popularity here on Bakura, but I believe we ignore their example at our peril.  Look around.  If the Alliance is so far off course that Leia Organa Solo, Luke Skywalker, and all the others who built the New Republic are now trying to set fire to it, I think that bears serious consideration, and I’ll be arguing as much to our home government.”

Malinza had seen some of those leaked holos, and some recorded testimonials from Wookiee witnesses that were being promulgated by Wookiee diplomats and senators who found it necessary to defend their sudden and unorthodox withdrawal into that conscientious third front that was now being called the Jedi Coalition.  Direct translations were overwrought and poetic, but shared a common thread of fiery devastation that was only checked when Master Skywalker sacrificed his life to assault the Anakin Solo, and had come back more powerful than anyone could have imagined, in the way of Jedi.  Malinza wasn’t sure what to make of that, but it was enough to know that Luke was alive.

Tabloid channels usually reserved for the dramatic escapades of holostars and celebrities had been morbidly fascinated by the apparent meltdown of the Solo family, and the way they seemed to be dragging the Skywalkers and the whole Jedi Order with them.  Malinza ached for them, knowing they were precisely that at heart, just a family, weighed down by burdens of responsibility that most other people would thankfully never carry.  What had possessed Jacen Solo she’d never know, but the new violence was scaring her.  

There were those who said the whole dynasty was cursed, and others on Bakura who just shook their heads and pointed out that the Balance was biting back.  Malinza didn’t know what she thought anymore.  Her churning memories revisited that ill-advised data search she had pulled as a child, assaulting her young mind with the uncensored horrors of Darth Vader and wondering how that monster could possibly be Luke’s father.  Seeing that dark legacy root and bud again in her lifetime was sobering.  She could only imagine how Luke and his sister must feel.

“. . . hope we can expect some protections from overreach from the Core,” the voices were saying.  “Even Coruscant seems to acknowledge that Colonel Solo is on a bit of a rampage.  GAG is already exceeding its mandate, inserting itself into the business of other worlds.  Are we going to try to exercise some discretion if and when they come for their fugitives, or are we going to just hand over conscientious citizens—these alleged ‘seditionists’—alongside the terrorists and murderers?”

That was the fear.  Malinza had never felt safe after that brush with GAG.  Her home had been violated.  One moment she’d been a successful public servant preparing for a trip home, and the next she was being herded along at blasterpoint, forced to shelter in a pile of hot garbage rather than rot in a GAG containment facility.  Or worse.  Luke had only threatened Colonel Solo at that point, back when it might have been useful for Jacen to hold Malinza and her daughter to pressure Luke into compliance.  Now Luke had tried to kill him, and Jacen might be looking for revenge rather than leverage.  She still couldn’t believe she was thinking such things about one of the leaders of the Galactic Alliance, but maybe the current leadership didn’t deserve that respect.  No one had elected Colonel Solo, and even Luke considered his oaths to the administration to be null.  

The fact remained that she couldn’t look at the backside of a door now without wondering if troopers would come barging through it.  She couldn’t sleep more than three hours at a stretch, because she always dreamed of being chased.   Malinza didn’t know what it would take for her to ever feel safe again, but she hoped she would.  She didn’t want to live the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, dreading the day Colonel Solo’s black-booted thugs laid hands on her again.

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew a hand was pressed over her mouth in the darkness, and her heart leapt into her throat.  She would have screamed and thrashed had not an overwhelming wave of calm swept through her.

“Malinza,” Luke said, slowly letting her go, a black figure in the shadows.  “Wake up.  It’s time to leave.”

Malinza sat up, shaking and gasping with adrenaline, and threw her arms around him.  “You scared me half to death!” she protested in a sharp whisper.

“Sorry about that,” Luke apologized, giving her a heartfelt hug before pushing her off.  “Didn’t want to risk the cams in the lobby.  Get Petra up.”  

Malinza moved to obey, thankful she hadn’t bothered to undress.  In the rush of excitement, she hadn’t thought to ask how Luke had gotten into their room, but she felt a breeze from an open window in the dark, and began to worry that she knew what was coming.

“Don’t turn on the light,” Luke cautioned. 

Malinza gently shook her daughter awake, trying to keep the tone upbeat.  “Petra.  Petra, wake up.  Uncle Luke is here!”  

Hearing that, Petra forced her eyes open and sat up before she was wholly awake.  “Found you!” she declared, still a little disoriented.  “Why is it dark?  Is it still the game?”

“Yes, baby, but we’re almost done,” Malinza said, pulling back the bedding.  “Uncle Luke is going to help us win.”

She quickly helped the girl to the ‘fresher and got her dressed by the light of Luke’s datapad.  Then Petra ran to him and lifted her arms, demanding to be held while Malinza threw together their meager belongings.  

“How did you check in?” Luke asked, Petra content on his hip.

“With the false ID Master Katarn gave us,” Malinza said, stuffing clothes and accessories into a case in no particular order.

“For how long?”

“Indefinitely.”  It had certainly seemed indefinite, perhaps the longest three weeks of her life, and she wasn’t sorry to be leaving.

“And how have you been paying?  Credit line?  Bank transfer?”

“Anonymous preloaded credcard.”  Malinza sealed the case, ready to go.  “It’s due to max out in a day or two.”

Luke paused and smiled, affectionately lifting her chin with his hand.  “There’s my clever girl,” he said.  “That gives us two days’ head start.  Let’s make the most of it.”

He set Petra down and moved the cases closer to the open window.  “Okay.  I’ll go down first, then the cases, then you two.  All right?”

Malinza looked.  There was no ladder, there was no rope, nothing.  “You can’t be serious,” she said, an anxious tingle in her extremities.  

“Don’t worry,” Luke insisted, “I’ve got you.  All you have to do is stand still and not panic.”  He turned to Petra.  “Ready to go for a ride?”

“Yes!”  Petra jumped up and down, clutching her Wookiee to her chest.

The glow of headlights swung through the speeder lot below, and Luke stepped back, a hand raised for silence.  Once the potential witnesses had parked and meandered into the lobby, he relaxed again.  “All right, let’s go.”

He stepped out of the open window and shimmied back down the outside wall, as quick and surefooted as a spider.  Petra gasped, watching with incredulous fascination.  

“Don’t even think about it,” Malinza warned her.  “Uncle Luke has practiced for a long time.”

They moved out of the way as the cases beside them shuddered, then lifted themselves silently out of the window and dropped, landing without a sound.  

Malinza scooped Petra into her arms and braced herself, not sure what to expect.  An invisible grip closed around them, strong but very careful, and then they were levitating out over the empty air and descending into the night.  It was a bizarre experience, but not as bad as she’d feared, the closest Malinza had ever come to touching the Force herself.  It was hard to understand how Luke could harness energies like that simply by the power of thought, but the evidence was undeniable.  The weakness didn’t quite leave her knees even when there was pavement beneath her feet again, and she watched with stubborn incredulity as Luke lifted his hand one last time.  The unruly drapes tucked themselves back into the room, and the window closed and latched itself.  

“Come on.”  Luke took their cases and led them across the speeder lot to their ride.  

As he secured the luggage and Malinza strapped Petra into her seat, she noticed the tangle of wires hanging out of the activation panel.  “Stolen?” she asked with a sly look.

“Borrowed,” Luke insisted, his face briefly bathed in the thin blue glow of his chrono as he checked the time.  “So be nice.  Wipe your feet.”

They drove through the slumbering streets in silence, heading—Malinza guessed—for the small regional spaceport on the edge of the city rather than the major travel hub on the other side of Salis D’aar.  Her nerves were all standing on end, not knowing where they were going or how they would get there, but content in the knowledge that there was a plan.  

“You all settled in your new hideaway?” she asked, a nervous attempt at small talk.

“Yep,” Luke said, as casually as if she had asked about the weather.  “Am I correct in assuming you want to come with us?”

“Yes,” Malinza confirmed.  “Absolutely yes.  Wait, you haven’t set up shop under a volcano, or on some radiation-blasted hellscape, have you?”  

Luke chuckled.  “No, nothing like that.  The locals can be a bit formidable, but I like to think we have an understanding.  Be polite, bow to the tribal elders, or they’ll eat your face off.”

“Delightful.”  Malinza shot him a sidelong look.  “You’re serious?”

He returned the look with a cryptic smile and declined to elaborate.  

Every now and then, seemingly at regular intervals, Malinza noticed Luke lifting the first two fingers of his right hand.  “What’s that?” she finally asked.

“What?”

“That thing you’re doing,” Malinza said, just as he did it again.  “That.”

“Oh.  Just Force-flashing the cams, a little burst of static to hide the fact that we were ever here.”

Malinza sat back and kept her comments to herself.  Jedi apparently had a much deeper toolbox than she had imagined.  

They pulled into a speeder lot on the outskirts of the spaceport and left the borrowed vehicle parked neatly beside several others beneath the floodlights.  Places like that never really slept, and the air was rumbling with departing ships and early arrivals.  There was even a small gathering of apathetic, bleary-eyed people crowding the pedwalk, staring at their comlinks and datapads.  

Malinza attended to Petra while Luke managed the cases.  She felt him stiffen, frowning toward the pedwalk under the glare.  “No, no,” he murmured at her, “don’t turn around.  But I don’t like the look of that.”

“Are we in trouble?” Malinza asked, her throat tight, as she took Petra’s hand and steered her away.

“Could be,” Luke admitted, ushering them along the pedwalk with new purpose.  “Just walk.  Act natural.  Walk, walk, walk.”

Malinza put on her best stoic face, marching forward with Petra in hand, Luke bringing up the rear.  She thought she might be seeing the problem, a fellow pedestrian jabbering into his comlink, seemingly more interested in them than in anything else. 

“Him?” Malinza hissed.  “Bald head, cheap suit?”

“Yeah,” Luke confirmed.  “His comlink isn’t even on.”

Malinza looked again.  She could see anything wrong with the comlink, but did recognize that their spotter was instead communicating through an official Bakuran Security Services earpiece.  “How can you tell?”

“Power cells are dormant.”

“You can feel that?”

Luke’s sigh might have been a world-weary laugh under different circumstances.  “I can feel almost everything,” he said.  “Keep walking.  Don’t look.”

They passed unmolested, weaving through the sparse crowd of commuters.  “He didn’t stop us,” Malinza whispered over her shoulder.  “Are you sure they’re on to us?”

“They know exactly who we are,” Luke assured her, gently pressing a hand into her back to keep her moving, “which is why he’s following.  Nobody is dumb enough to try jumping me with one-to-one odds anymore, so they’re gathering backup.  I could have gotten us in under a Force-illusion, but he already had eyes on us, like he was tipped off.  And I would be very interested in knowing how.”

“So what do we do?”  Malinza’s imagination was in overdrive, making their shadow seem larger and more intimidating than he probably was.  

“We spring the trap before they do,” Luke said.  “Two-to-one odds aren’t bad.”

Picking up their pace so that little Petra had to break into a jog, he pushed them past the main entrance and around a sharp corner toward the north face of the building.  Luke kicked the whole locking mechanism off a service entrance, shoved them inside and up the stairs. 

No sooner had they reached a switchback than Cheap Suit wrenched open the door behind them.  “Bakuran Security!” he bellowed, brandishing a blaster and an electroprod.  “Get on the ground, now!”

Malinza complied, crouching over Petra in the corner as Luke violently grappled the officer into submission and raised a hand toward the second one coming from the floor above, deflecting a blaster bolt into the ceiling.  A few bone-crunching kicks and punches later, both the men were gasping on the floor and Luke had all the weapons.  He thrust the confiscated electroprod into Cheap Suit’s chest, convulsing him into silence.

“Now,” he said, turning to the second officer, considerably younger, drenched in nervous sweat, and clearly suffering from a dislocated knee.  Luke planted a boot on his chest and brandished the electroprod again.  “You seem like a reasonable young man.”  

It was only then that Malinza saw Luke was wearing a knee brace of his own.

The officer nodded timorously.  “Yes, sir.”

“Okay, Officer . . . Muras,” Luke continued, reading the man’s name on his uniform.  “I’d like you to tell me exactly how you knew I was here today.”

“New anti-Jedi protocols from Coruscant,” Officer Muras hurried to explain, “an algorithm to detect patterns of static flashes in surveillance cams.”

Luke frowned into the middle distance, then shrugged.  “Neat trick,” he allowed.  “Officer Muras, do you suffer from any cardiac conditions?”

Confusion shadowed his face.  “No, sir.”

Luke nodded.  “Then you’ll be fine.”  And he brought the electroprod down onto his chest as well.

Malinza and Petra finally brought their heads up when the downed officers were quiet.  Luke had tossed aside the weapons and was methodically confiscating their earpieces.  

“Didn’t they hear all that?” Malinza asked, a little stunned herself.

“I was jamming them,” Luke explained, slipping the first one into his own ear.  “Lots of interference in places like this, especially in the infrastructure.”  

Even Malinza could hear the burst of angry voices demanding acknowledgements and updates as Luke reopened the channel.  “No, no, sir, false alarm,” he said in an impressive imitation of Cheap Suit’s voice.  “Yeah, dead spot.  Stand down, we turned ‘em loose.  Copy that.  Returning to the perimeter.”  

He pulled the earpiece out, palmed them both, and tossed them back out through the door.  “Track that, if you will.  Come on.”

Petra couldn’t manage the steps as quickly as Luke wanted, so he swept her into his arms and charged ahead, the two cases bobbing along behind them.  He pulled out his own comlink as they followed the staircase farther and farther up through the spaceport’s walls.  “Change of plans, Artoo.  Launch, launch, launch.  Meet us at the highest point you can find.”

“Where’s that?” Malinza asked, doing her best to keep up.  It was taking a toll on all of them, and even Luke was limping.

“Executive landing pad,” Luke said.  “The Bakuran president isn’t traveling today, is he?”

“Uh,” Malinza stammered, “not that I’ve heard.”

When they were passing the third level, they almost collided with a random maintenance tech.  His features barely had time to register surprise and suspicion before Luke greeted him like an old friend.  “Hey!  You need to grab lunch.”

“Hey, I need to grab lunch,” the man agreed as Luke spun him back through the door.

“It’s not lunch time, is it?” Malinza suggested as they continued up toward Level Four, pretty sure she had just witnessed one of those famous Jedi mind tricks.

“Well, let’s get out of here before he finds out.  Artoo’s up top, and Flight Control isn’t happy.”  

There was a shuttle hovering five meters above the landing pad when they rushed back out into the night.  Obviously putting the situation together, a new wave of security officers burst into the Level Four stairwell with weapons at the ready, shouting at them to halt.  Luke slammed the rooftop access door behind them, hit the emergency lock and stabbed out the keypad with his lightsaber.  

“Come on,” he said, pushing Malinza away, “they’re setting charges.”

“Luke Skywalker and Malinza Thanas!” Flight Control blasted through the rooftop comms.  “You are being detained on behalf of the Galactic Alliance.  If that shuttle attempts to land, it may be fired upon!”

Luke might have shrugged in that moment, but Malinza couldn’t be sure because she was too distracted by him flinging both cases seven meters into the air and into the shuttle’s open ramp.  She shrieked as she was also grabbed in the Force and tossed aboard.  Luke was right behind her, Petra under his arm.  Malinza stumbled as the shuttle banked hard to escape before the ramp was even closed, nauseated by the sight of the shadowy trees and blinking lights rolling by below.

Nearly obliged to walk on the wall, Luke fought his way into the darkened cockpit.  Malinza strapped Petra into one of the forward seats, and fell into the one next to her as Luke took the helm and climbed for space.

“Two fighters incoming,” he grumbled to the astromech just as the comm crackled with a priority override signal.  

“Unidentified shuttle!” rasped the same angry voice as before.  “You are being detained!  Cease all maneuvers or you will be fired upon!”

“Good grief,” Luke said.  “It’s like we offended somebody, or something.”

Malinza closed her eyes, grit her teeth, and prepared for an extraordinary ride.

But no turbulence came.  The fighters, if Malinza knew anything about reading a sensor screen, were hanging back just behind them on the wings, matching their trajectory.  

Luke turned a thoughtful look back at her.  He pinged the fighters to open a new channel.  “So, are you going to try your luck, boys?” he asked.

“No, sir,” the leader of the duo answered.  “Coruscant may have its own priorities, but this is Bakura, and nobody fires on Master Skywalker or Madame Thanas in this airspace, not on my watch.”

Luke smiled.  “I hope your wingman agrees.  Could get you both in a lot of trouble.”

“I do, sir,” the other pilot replied.  “But if you don’t mind, we might launch a few salvos just to make it look good.  Consider it a salute.”

“I will,” Luke promised.  “Thanks, and may the Force be with you.”

“And also with you, sir!” the flight leader answered with a soldier’s enthusiasm.  “Now go straighten out those blast-happy warmongering bizits before they blow the galaxy all to hell.  It was an honor flying with you, sir.”

As promised, the fighters launched fans of ordnance well out of range to starboard and port, hideously wasteful, but beautiful.  Luke shimmied the shuttle from side to side to at least pretend to be bothered.  A few more tense minutes, and they were finally clear to jump.  A last-minute calculation, Luke activated the hyperdrive, the stars stretched, and they were gone.

Luke leaned back into his seat and sighed.  “I hope those two don’t get court-martialed,” he said.  

“They sounded like they were willing to risk it,” Malinza said, feeling a fresh swell of pride for her home planet.  “There’s still a strong pacifist element in Bakuran culture.”

“A pacifist fighter pilot,” Luke said, mulling it over.  

“Not unlike yourself,” Malinza insisted.

Luke shrugged.  “Fair point.”  

Petra wriggled out of her restraints and marched into the cockpit.  “Thanks for comin’ to get us, Uncle Luke,” she said.

“Anytime, sweetie.”  Luke took her face in his hands and planted a kiss on her forehead.  “But I think you should probably finish sleeping before we get to our new home, hm?”

“But I’m not sleepy!” Petra protested.

“You will be,” Luke promised.  “Even I’m going to be sleepy in a minute.  Go on.”

Malinza took Petra to the back of the shuttle and settled her into one of the bunks.  The sudden stillness and calm seemed surreal after their near escape, but her thoughts were anything but still.  She had known but never dwelt on the fact that Luke—and Mara—had consciously refrained from using the Force in her presence ever since she had declared her belief in the Cosmic Balance and all the preconceptions that came with it.  They couldn’t afford that courtesy anymore, and she was finally wrapping her mind around what Jedi were, not just mystics and competent soldiers, but supernatural entities of unthinkable power.  It made her wonder how anyone would dare oppose them, but then she remembered that Jacen Solo was also a Jedi, not only of the same tradition, but of the same bloodline as the Grand Master.  The war was ultimately a tragic battle between titans beyond anything she understood.  It made all her small hairs stand on end.

That fighter pilot seemed to have the right idea, at least.  It would be hard for anyone to put a leash on Colonel Solo without Luke.  

It was admittedly only her third spaceflight, but Malinza could have sworn she felt the ship revert to realspace and jump again while she was convincing Petra to close her eyes.  

She returned to the passenger cabin just as Luke was leaving the cockpit.  “Where are we going?” she asked, too tired to be anything but direct.

“Endor,” Luke said, “not far, just about two hours.  We laid a false trail on the way out, but I’ve just corrected it.  The old Imperial outpost is such an obvious base of operations, we’re betting Colonel Solo will be too proud to look there.”

Now that the lights were on and they weren’t running for their lives, Malinza could finally see what state he was in.  The fading bruises on his face, the scarred fracture point on his nose, the knee brace and worsening limp, all spoke to the violence of his last encounter with Colonel Solo.  And none of it began to express the psychological toll it must have taken.  

“Don’t worry,” Luke said, reading her face.  “Jacen had worse.”

The banter was painfully thin.  Malinza hated the whole situation for him, and could see that he hated it, too.  Shaking now that the nervous tension had begun to drain, she moved in for a hug, suspecting it would do them both good.  “Why is he doing this?” she asked miserably.

“I don’t know,” Luke admitted, holding her close.  “I really don’t know.  Until we have the whole story, I don’t think we’ll ever know.”

“He tried to take us, Uncle Luke,” she complained into his shoulder, her voice breaking into angry tears.  “Just dragged us out in the middle of the night!  A four-year-old little girl!  Who does that?  I’ve lost my job, my home, we had to leave all our stuff behind, and my rocks!” she shouted, airing all her grievances, no matter how petty, now that the stress was falling away.

Luke laughed sharply and just held her closer, unwinding along with her.  “I promise we can get you more rocks,” he said.  Considering their other troubles, that was barely a blip on the charts.  

“I’m sorry I dragged you into all this,” he apologized.  “Life on the run won’t be very comfortable, but I think we can keep you safe, and I’ll be glad to know where you are.  Just bear with me.”

“Don’t you dare apologize for him,” Malinza insisted, still clinging to his shoulders.  “None of this is your fault.”

Luke sighed.  “Maybe,” he said.  “Maybe not.  He was my student.  I can’t help but think I must have failed him somewhere along the line, but that’s just another one of those things we can’t know for sure yet.”

“Well, I’m sure,” Malinza insisted, releasing her hold and packing up her tears with a sniffle.  “Nobody who was actually paying attention to any of your lessons could possibly turn out like that.”

Luke smiled that sad smile that was still better than no smile at all.  “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said.  “I need all I can get.  In the meantime, maybe you should get some rest, too.  Roughing it in an Imperial ruin is going to seem bleak enough without being sleep deprived.”

“You might have a point there,” Malinza admitted.  She hugged him again for good measure, and kissed his cheek the way she used to when she was a child.  “Thanks for everything,” she said.  “No matter how many high crimes they try to slap on you, you’ll always be our hero.”  

“Now, now,” Luke warned her, “flattery will get you nowhere.”  But she could see his appreciation.  “Go get some shut-eye while you can, kiddo.  We’ll be reverting in approximately two hours.”

Endor had never been a particular point of interest for Malinza, at least not outside the context of the battle of the same name.  She knew it was a forested moon, and that was about it.

As they descended the ramp into the cool, damp morning, she knew it was unlike any forest she had known before.  Enormous trees grew in thick ranks, littering the shaded ground in a carpet of spent needles and empty cones, filling the air with the aromatic scents of pollen and resin.  Bakura’s forests were all broadleaf, most semi-tropical.  This was different.  She liked it.

The Imperial facility had obviously seen better days, a bit shabby and crumbling around the edges, but the overgrowth had been cleared, and there were signs of a robust community settling in.

“Ooo,” Petra said, pausing on the makeshift landing pad to take in the sights.  “It’ll be like camping!”

“Don’t worry,” Luke assured them, “we’re making improvements every day.  Getting the water filtration sorted out was a big win, so we’ve got sanitation, working ‘freshers, almost all the comforts of home.  There are several hundred ancillary personnel here, too, so you won’t be the only non-Jedi among us, in case you were worried.”

“Sounds great,” Malinza said, and she wasn’t even lying, not really.  The accommodations might be a little rough, but there was something about it that felt like a new beginning, something strangely refreshing—a clean break with the past, however involuntary.  Luke always seemed to be an integral part of every new beginning in her life, so it fit the pattern.

Luke wandered off into the ferns for a moment, kicked the side of a rocky outcropping and shook a few pebbles loose.  He picked one up and put it in Malinza’s hand.  

“Here,” he said.  “Endor.  Guard it with your life.”

Our journey through Legacy of the Force continues in the next chapter.

Chapter Text

40 ABY, Jedi Outpost, Sanctuary Moon of Endor

The secret Jedi outpost in the barely-tamed wilds of Endor’s forest moon was a world like any other, a microcosm of galactic society.  Malinza and Petra were immediately adopted into the unique community of Force-blind but intensely loyal auxiliary personnel, all of whom had clearly followed the Jedi Order into exile out of conviction rather than for economic benefit.  There was surely no shortage of demand elsewhere in the galaxy for starfighter mechanics, engineers, logistics coordinators, and signals analysts, probably offering more competitive compensation rates, but most of those ordinary working people weren’t just employees.  They were adherents.  As far as Malinza could tell, at least a third of them had children or relatives in the Order, a few were failed apprentices who still wanted to contribute, and the rest were there because they believed in it.  Many of them internalized the ideals, lived the code, and supported the mission as much as non-Jedi could.  They were, for all intents and purposes, a practicing religious cult, and Luke was their patriarch.  

Not quite ready to dive in that far, Malinza nonetheless found her niche applying her particular brand of expertise as a media analyst, digesting and interpreting the diverse accounts of current events gathered by the signals people into a daily comprehensive briefing for the Grand Master and the Council.  It was good to be back at work, even if the circumstances were still less than auspicious.  

It was in her professional capacity that Malinza was looking for Luke that afternoon.  She brought only her datapad, as flimsi was in short supply, and was wandering down a wooded trail through a forest disturbed only by birdsong and rustling insects.  It could not have been any more different from the skylanes and towering offices of Coruscant.  It was almost like being trapped in a pleasant daydream, going about her business in a parallel reality that was entirely too peaceful to be authentic.  The thin cots and military-issue blankets they had to contend with every night reminded her of the gritty side of their situation, but Petra was bearing it well, so Malinza could hardly do less.  

She finally arrived at the foot of an enormous tree, one among millions, into which an arboreal platform had been built, accessible only by rope ladder.  That feature wasn’t distinctive in itself, since hundreds of nearby trees were similarly equipped, but an Aurebesh “L” had been splashed on the bottom of that one in white paint for the benefit of those who had to rely solely on their five senses, marking it as the place Luke most often went when he wanted to be alone.

The tragic contradiction of plainly marking his private retreat so he could be more easily interrupted wasn’t lost on Malinza.  She would have preferred not to disturb him, but the way Luke had been lately, they would never get anything done if they didn’t force the daily business on him.

Besides, it probably wasn’t a bad thing to pull him out of his thoughts from time to time, and climbing rope ladders was keeping her young.  Malinza tucked her datapad into her pocket and grabbed the lower rungs, beginning the twenty-meter climb as if it were an average daily commute.  

When she finally lifted her head above the edge of the platform, she saw Luke sitting there against the bole of the tree as if he were sleeping, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed.  

There was a time when Malinza would have believed he was asleep, but she knew better by now, not only because the corner of his mouth turned up in a shadow of a smile.

“What have you got for me today, kiddo?” he asked.

“Nothing too encouraging, I’m afraid,” Malinza admitted, climbing onto the platform and sitting down beside him.  “The Hapans have remained extremely quiet.  It’s not that they’re signaling an official withdrawal from this coalition of yours, but more like there’s a system-wide pause in all wartime policy.  That’s never been a good sign, historically.”

“No,” Luke agreed.  “Could be another coup, some kind of power play, neither of which would be unusual in Hapes.  I think I’d know if something happened to the Queen Mother, but I can’t be sure.  Tenel Ka wouldn’t leave us without grave cause, not after Kashyyyk.  And that worries me.”

“Not just because the Hapans were our biggest financial supporters?” Malinza suggested.

“Not just because of that,” Luke insisted, playing along, “but I’ll admit that crossed my mind.  When you cut yourself off from all previous veins of revenue, you have to land somewhere.  Loaded canisters of TibannaX don’t grow on trees.”

“Speaking of trees, Kashyyyk is still burning, but there’s been steady progress as they build firebreaks.  Coruscant has been a bit more opaque.  We suspect there’s some regime-friendly censorship going on over the main channels.  The affliceria outbreak is still a major concern, but an accurate death toll has been hard to get, and the necessary antibiotics are still in short supply.  Currently, only the military is receiving treatment.”

“And the ordinary citizens are encouraged to do the patriotic thing and just soldier through it?” Luke guessed.  He shook his head.  “A lot of people are going to die.”

They were already dying.  It had been sobering for Malinza to consider that she and Petra might have still been there in the thick of the epidemic, a mass infection seeded in Galactic City Center by Commenoran agents in retaliation for the asteroid bombardment Colonel Solo had ordered against their planet.  She wondered about her colleagues at the Bakuran embassy, remembered why she trusted Uncle Luke’s premonitions, and was grateful for that fresh forest air.  

“There’s also been something of a furor about another assassination attempt against Colonel Solo,” she went on, “an ambush outside the Senate building, during which a lot of damage was done and at least one Jedi was killed.  The local media is hanging it out as more proof that the Order has gone completely rogue, and is practically burning you in effigy.”  Malinza turned to look at Luke.  “Should I assume there’s truth in that, or are they trying some false flag shenanigans?”  

“No, it’s true,” Luke admitted, staring into the trees.  “Our strike team just made it back this morning.  It had a less obvious purpose and wasn’t expected to succeed in killing him, although that would have been a welcome surprise.  Master Katarn is in rough shape, I’m afraid.  Jacen put a lightsaber through his chest, and he picked up some infections while they were escaping through the underlevels.”

“Oh, no!”  And just like that, reality came crashing back into their idyllic retreat.  “Can we see him?”

Luke shook his head.  “Let him recuperate a bit first.  He caught the affliceria bug too, and we don’t need that spreading here.”

“No,” Malinza sighed, “I guess not.”  

Luke seemed even more distracted than usual.  He was paying attention, but he seemed to be present only out of a sense of duty, as though he’d much rather disappear into a hole somewhere.  The last few months, after all, had been uncommonly difficult, and Malinza was worried about him.

“Uncle Luke,” she asked, not looking for confirmation so much as an explanation, “are you all right?”

He exhaled with such an existential fatigue that it seemed he might be trying to slip the bonds of mortal life on the spot.  Luke hesitated, which made Malinza suspect he was prepared to really confide in her, not just deflect her concerns.  

“I’m just not sure I know what I’m doing anymore,” Luke confessed, drawing in his legs and carefully crossing them beneath him.  One knee was obviously still quite stiff.  “I feel like Han and Leia out there building firebreaks on Kashyyyk, except that the whole galaxy’s burning, and I’m so preoccupied deciding what to save and what to sacrifice in the moment that I don’t have a chance to see the bigger picture, and I seem to keep falling on my face when it counts.  I don’t feel any guidance from the Force anymore, I don’t know that I can trust myself anymore despite everyone else who won’t stop trusting me, and now I’ve accidentally made myself a chief of state, and that comes with its own problems.”

“I imagine it does,” Malinza agreed, trying not to smile at his expense.  Luke wasn’t trying to be funny, or if he was, it was only to stave off despair for a few more seconds.  She knew what was at the root of all this, of course.  She didn’t understand the nuances of Jedi doctrine or morality, but she knew why Luke felt so unstable as he continued careening through the war.  He’d lost his primary ballast, after all, and was still learning to fly without it, while at the same time he was obliged to make some of the most consequential decisions of his life.  He’d stopped wearing his wedding ring, at least openly, but Malinza could still see the impression it had left on his finger after twenty years.  It was probably an accurate metaphor for how he was feeling on the inside.  

Malinza inched closer and lay her head on his shoulder.  “I miss her, too.”

She felt him droop, and she knew she’d hit the problem dead center.  “I don’t know how to be myself without her,” Luke admitted.  “I’m trying, but it’s just been a mess.  First Lumiya, and now Jacen.”  

“What about Jacen?”

“I should have killed him when I had the chance.  I could have, I meant to, but I put Ben’s wellbeing first and gave Jacen a temporary stay.  I was so sure of myself at the time, but I’ve been thinking about it ever since, and Jacen’s still out there flinging asteroids and beheading Jedi.  How is that not my fault now?”

Malinza frowned, caught without a ready answer.

“Just the fact that I keep second-guessing myself is probably proof enough that I shouldn’t be doing this job anymore.”  

“Now, hold on,” Malinza protested, trying to slow down before Luke talked himself off the ledge.  “Didn’t you try resigning already?”  

“Who told you that?”

“Master Katarn.”

Luke frowned.  “Yes, I did, but the Council didn’t approve.”

“Then they probably won’t approve this time either, so let’s not get your heart set on it.  Just explain to me, in basic terms, what put you off at the last minute at Kashyyyk.”

He sighed, probably because he’d already been over it a thousand times in his own head, but he obliged.  “Ben wasn’t supposed to be there,” Luke said, “but he got it into his head that Jacen killed Mara, and he went back to the Anakin Solo on his own initiative to have his vengeance.  He tried and failed, and Jacen was torturing him when I got there.  There was a fight, I won, but every time I went to finish it, Ben demanded that I let him have the kill.  It was every bad principle and flawed premise Jacen had ever taught him coming to a head at once, and I saw so clearly that he was willingly stepping into the darkness to accomplish Jacen’s death—the same mistake I made with Lumiya—that I couldn’t let it happen.  I couldn’t let him satisfy that compulsion, not even by killing Jacen myself.  So I talked him down and we left, determined to come back another day.”

Malinza shrugged.  “And?  Now you don’t think that was the right decision?”

“I’m afraid it might have been Ben’s father rather than the Grand Master making that call,” Luke said.  “It’s hard to stand by it when people are still dying.”

“Oh, I see.”  Maybe it was just the benefit of a fresh perspective, but Malinza saw the flaw straightaway.  “You’re punishing yourself because you didn’t sacrifice one for the many?  Because you didn’t write off your own son for the good of the galaxy?  You know who that makes you sound like, right?”

Luke frowned again, and his teeth clicked shut as he tried to fault her reasoning.

“Okay, listen,” Malinza continued.  “I’m no expert, but you and Laera did put me through those advanced ethics courses, so hear me out.  If Ben and some other boy were both drowning, who would you save first?”

“The other one,” Luke said immediately.  “Ben can look after himself in a tight spot.”

“Okay,” Malinza amended, “Ben and some other boy are both helpless toddlers, and they’re drowning.  Who would you save first?”

“Both.  I could Force-lift them.”

“Oh, come on!  Ben and the other helpless toddler are drowning, and you can’t use the Force!  Who would you save first?”

Left with no more excuses, Luke finally had to grapple with the question.  “Ben,” he admitted grudgingly.

“And isn’t that the way it should be?” Malinza suggested.  “Don’t parents owe their own children a debt of responsibility before any others?”

Luke was quiet, adding that consideration to the scales.

“Besides,” Malinza continued, “I’d argue that being Ben Skywalker’s father is a significant responsibility in its own right, especially if he turns out to be even half the Jedi people expect him to be.”

“Well, fumbling that to some degree is partly how we’ve landed here in the first place,” Luke allowed.

“There you go,” Malinza agreed.  “So, all things considered, I’d say your instincts are still perfectly calibrated, no matter how rough the ride has been.  Jacen made this mess, and all you can do is what you’re obliged to do.  You’ve always told me we shouldn’t forget the individuals in favor of the crowd.”

“I think I was just talking to Jaina about that, actually.”  

“Basically, I don’t see how putting your concern for Ben aside in service of the greater good would do anything but make you more like Jacen, and that’s something nobody wants to see.”  

Luke didn’t contest the point.  “Fortunately, Ben’s taken the guesswork out of it,” he said.  “He’s already called me out now that he’s had a chance for some self-reflection, and he’s done the Jedi thing and made me promise not to give him any more special treatment.”

“That’s one way of resolving it, I suppose,” Malinza agreed.  “Maybe that apparent contradiction was one of the reasons Jedi didn’t have families.”

“Maybe.  Sounds like another subheading I’ll have to write into the code.”  Luke paused, frowning.  “Of course, all this presents another conundrum.  When Ben put the same question to me, albeit in different terms, I said I would have killed Jacen rather than be overly concerned about some unrelated Jedi falling to the dark side as a consequence.  What does that say about me?”

“That depends,” Malinza decided.  “In that moment, would you have been choosing to sacrifice that other Jedi in service of the greater good, or would you have been choosing to deal with Jacen first of all because Jacen is your nephew and therefore a more immediate personal responsibility than that other Jedi?”

Luke narrowed his eyes and turned that over a few times.  “You’re just full of hard questions today,” he observed.  

Malinza smiled and squeezed his wrist.  “Don’t worry, I’m sure you know the answers already.  You’ve just forgotten that you do.”  The banter faded, and she became earnest again.  “I know you know this, Uncle Luke, because you’ve been drip-feeding it to me my whole life.  Just the next right thing, remember?  No compromises, no shortcuts.  We’ve never had to approach it from this angle before, and I know you don’t feel like yourself right now, but you know what’s right, and you choose the best course nine times out of ten, even when you can’t explain why.  That’s why we still trust you.”  

She sighed, realizing that deep down she was afraid to see Luke crash and burn not only because she wanted better for him, but because he was once again the last gossamer thread holding her world together.  He hadn’t broken yet, and Malinza wasn’t sure what she would do if he did.  “Listen,” she said, “I don’t know what I believe anymore, but I can honestly say you’re the most constant thing in my universe, so don’t you dare flame out.”  

Luke laughed, a desperate and exasperated sound, though not completely humorless.  “No pressure, then.  I guess I can hold it together for a while yet, for you.”

“Not just for me,” Malinza protested, putting a playful veneer on a very sincere sentiment.  “There’s a lot of people here who would follow you through a radiation storm if you asked them to.  Let’s keep the ship flying at least until the end of the war, and then maybe you can finally skip out on that vacation I think you need.”  

“That’d be nice,” Luke said, managing to sound both hopeful and sarcastic at the same time.  

“I’ll just leave you with that thought, Chief Grand Master Commander,” Malinza said, gathering herself and turning to head back down the rope ladder.  “Let me know when Master Katarn is well enough for visitors, because I know Petra is going to want to bring him enough artwork to cover a whole infirmary wall.”

“Hey, Malinza,” Luke called after her as she began her descent.  “Thanks for listening.”

Malinza returned his weary smile, grateful that she could leave him in a better mood, whatever her other shortcomings as an ancillary member of the Jedi Order.  “Thanks for talking,” she said.  “I might not have any idea what’s going on, but I can still give good advice.  We should get together with you and Ben over dehydrated dinner rations more often.”

Theme song: LOST - Tommee Profitt x Sam Tinnesz x Billy Ray Cyrus

Our journey through Legacy of the Force continues in the next chapter.

Chapter Text

40 ABY, Jedi Outpost, Sanctuary Moon of Endor

As she walked down the corridor toward the recovery rooms outside the infirmary, Malinza reflected again on just how drab and utilitarian Imperial military construction had been.  Used to the provincial but faded elegance of Salis D’aar and the best of the new construction in the heart of Coruscant, she wasn’t quite accustomed to the brutalistic functionality of the outpost, little better than four walls and a ventilation system.  Most of the time she could ignore it, the presence of her fellow fugitives bringing the place to life, but this particular corridor seemed especially cheerless, quiet and nearly deserted.

Malinza stopped and politely rapped on the door marked for Master Solusar—Master Tionne Solusar, not to be confused with her husband, Master Kam Solusar, who was recovering in a different room.  A musical voice invited her to come in, so she did.

It was like entering a different world.  While the corridor had been barren, Master Tionne’s room was decorated top to bottom in notes, drawings, dried flowers, wreaths, and garlands.  Malinza supposed it was exactly what a well-beloved teacher’s recovery room should look like.  

“Good morning, dear,” Master Solusar said, propped upright in the bed and tapping on her datapad.  From her pleasant demeanor, Malinza would have never guessed she had just had an arm and a leg shot off by a GAG officer a few weeks ago.  The prostheses were convincing, if a bit younger-looking than the rest of her.  “What can I do for you?”

“Good morning, Master Solusar,” Malinza replied in kind, moving forward to hand her a datacard.  “The media room asked me to bring you this.” 

“Ah.”  Tionne accepted it with a smile.  “The latest addition.”  She pushed the card into her datapad and began downloading its contents.  “An archivist’s work is never done, you know, and this has been quite an eventful year.”

“That’s certainly one way to describe it,” Malinza agreed.  

Tionne was a bit too exotic to be completely human, as evidenced by her silver hair and striking pearlescent eyes.  She looked up and smiled again.  “You must be Malinza.”  She tapped her chest beneath the hollow of her throat, suggesting Malinza’s crystal pendant had given it away.  “I’ve been hoping we would meet someday.”

“I’ve been hearing that from a lot of people lately,” Malinza said, not intending it as a complaint.  “It’s a little unsettling to find myself among strangers who know almost everything about me.”

“No one need be a stranger for long, my dear.  We’re all family here.”  She set down her datapad and offered her hand for a proper introduction.  “I am Tionne Solusar, Jedi Master, archivist, lore keeper, youngling wrangler, absentee member of the High Council, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise,” Malinza agreed, returning the gesture, though her brow furrowed.  “I was very sorry to hear what happened at the Ossus academy,” she said.  “I never imagined that anyone representing the Alliance would deliberately kill children.”

“Thank you,” Tionne said, her expression betraying a hint of her private sorrow.  “Unfortunately, those of us who saw the last civil war could imagine it, though we hoped to never see it again.  Even one death is a tragedy, and they will be mourned, but we cannot forget the others who still live.  Great evil was done, but greater evil was prevented, and I choose to celebrate that.”

It was an interesting perspective, not so trite or dismissive as the reflex to insist that “it could have been worse.”  Most of the younglings had survived, after all.  Tionne might have lost a few limbs, but they had been artfully replaced.  Her husband had been shot three times and left for dead, but he was recovering, and it wasn’t heartless to appreciate that.  Malinza was sure that if Luke could buy Mara’s life back with a few of his own limbs, he wouldn’t hesitate.  

“It’s almost a family tradition now,” Tionne suggested, “being shot on behalf of the Order.  It was my grandmother who first instilled in me a love of history, of music, ballads, and tradition.”  She nodded toward the impressive double viol hanging on the wall.  “She was killed by stormtroopers for daring to recount the legends of the Jedi in Palpatine’s Empire.”

Malinza frowned, thinking that there would be plenty of people in the future who would remember family members who had been killed by Colonel Solo’s Alliance.  Each generation seemed to have its own violent trials to survive.  “My mother was killed in a war with Corellia when I was just four years old,” she said.  “I’d rather not continue that particular tradition, even if Colonel Solo is offering.”  

“I’ve no doubt Master Skywalker will do everything in his power to prevent that,” Tionne assured her, “especially now that you’re here with us.”

“I just wish I could be more of a help,” Malinza said.  “I don’t want to just be a resource drain, but I don’t really have anything to offer a barracks full of Jedi.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Tionne insisted, waving the comment away.  “Everyone has something to offer, and when you’ve been teaching as long as I have, you learn to see it.  I’ve heard you have a good head for diplomacy, at least.”

“Good enough, I suppose,” Malinza allowed.  “I didn’t have much of a chance to get my career off the ground before we had to run for it.  The only other thing I really had drilled into me was music.”

Tionne eyes brightened with new interest.  “I had also heard that you were something of a musical prodigy as a child,” she said.  “What did you play?”

“Oh, a little of everything.  Sometimes I miss it, but the diplomatic route seemed more practical.”

“Music can be more practical than people realize,” Tionne maintained.  She gestured toward the viol.  “Would you like to try it?”

Malinza shrugged.  “If you insist.”  She very carefully took the double viol off the wall and settled into a chair with it, familiarizing herself with the distance between the two resonating chambers and the order of the strings.  It wasn’t so different from the filarca she had played in school, and obviously very well made.  “It’s a beautiful instrument.”

“My weapon of choice,” Tionne confessed.  “You know, there was a time when I didn’t think I had much to offer the Jedi, either.  After my grandmother was killed, I resolved to do my part, however small, to keep those legends alive, playing in cantinas for whomever would listen, gathering whatever lore people were willing to tell me.  When that brought me to Master Skywalker’s attention, I would have been content to merely pass on what I had learned.  You see, I’m not particularly strong in the Force, and probably wouldn’t have qualified for admittance into the old Order, but Master Skywalker insisted that there was a place for me among his first apprentices.  In time he made me a Knight, later a Master, and then seated me on the Jedi Council, but I’m still primarily a teacher and musician.” 

She smiled again.  “As I say, each of us has a part to play.  If Master Skywalker is the strength of the Order, I am its memory, and there have been more than a few occasions when a good song has helped us through some hard times.”

“Music can be very cathartic,” Malinza agreed.  “It probably wouldn’t hurt to pick it up again.”

Tionne leaned back into her cushions and gestured invitingly.  “Play something,” she said.  “I’d play for you, but I’m still learning to use these new fingers.”

“Okay, but I warn you, it’s been years.  Let’s see . . .”  Malinza groped into those dusty corners of her mind that were cluttered with music, not sure how much she could remember off-hand.  She plucked a few notes, strummed a few chords, got her bearings, and the old instincts came flooding back.  “Okay, here’s something I submitted for a scholarship competition, so I wanted it to be good.  Back then, I could play it in my sleep.  Let’s see if I still remember it.”

She tried a few cautious bars, adapting to the different sound and construction of the viol, but the essentials were so similar that her hands fell into the familiar patterns surprisingly quickly.  It was an unexpected thrill of nostalgia, and Malinza let the music flow out of her, beating out her own percussive accompaniment with the heel of her hand.  It was an aggressively melancholy melody she had composed when she had been trying to find her place in her world, a position she perversely found herself in again.  

There was a control in music that had been missing from her life lately, and she seized on that, suddenly realizing how much she craved it.  She might be adrift in an unfriendly universe, but she could control the sounds that came out of that instrument, and she was good at it.  She had forgotten how satisfying that could be.  

Finishing with a flourish, Malinza stilled the strings with her hand and savored a contrasting moment of silence.  Yes, that was good.  Her fingers hurt, but it was worth it.  She’d definitely have to make time for that in the future.  

“Very impressive,” Tionne congratulated her.  “Did you win that scholarship?”

“I placed third,” Malinza confessed.  “It was very competitive.”

“Well, there’s no accounting for taste, I suppose.  I thought it was lovely.  You should play for Luke sometime.  There were many occasions in those early years when I suspected he kept me up late playing the old ballads not for any scholarly edification, but because the poor man couldn’t have any peace otherwise.”  

Then Mara had sorted him out, Malinza surmised.  She may have been only five at the time, but she remembered how marriage had changed Uncle Luke’s whole demeanor for the better.  Now Mara was gone, and Luke had again become that sad, lonely, worn-down person he had been when they met.  

“Maybe I will,” she decided.  “It might do us all some good.  Thank you, Master Solusar.  I didn’t realize how much I needed that this morning.”

“It was my pleasure, Malinza, and one I may hope to have often repeated.”

Bearclaw - JinsanKim (2024)

Wandering back across the campus toward the exercise field, Malinza wondered for the hundred-thousandth time what she was doing with her life.  She was identifying with these Jedi more every day, and emotionally she didn’t have any reason not to.  These were Luke’s people, Luke whom she loved more than any living person besides Petra, and they had been uniformly welcoming.  But they were Jedi.   

She couldn’t have it both ways, and Petra was going to start asking questions soon.  The Jedi Order was either a beacon of light and hope in a volatile galaxy, or a cancerous blight deranging the Balance of the cosmos, the cause of untold deprivation, suffering, and misery.  Luke was either as much a force of nature as any sentient being could be, healing and counterbalancing the deficits of society as best he could, or he was a monster, a voracious black hole draining the life out of the universe that had spawned him.  

Pulled in one obvious direction over the other, Malinza hesitated before making that final act of consent.  She wanted to be convinced it was true.

The field was crowded with Jedi younglings and the Knights who were supervising their instruction.  These were the very young ones, some as young as Petra, all of whom had survived the occupation of the Ossus academy.  It wrung Malinza’s heart to imagine anyone holding them at blasterpoint, and she could share Tionne’s gratitude that so many had been spared.  

Petra was there among the youngest students that day, under the watchful eye of pale female Zabrak Jedi who was teaching them basic tumbling maneuvers.  One didn’t need Force sensitivity to be a gymnast, and no one had objected when Petra had demanded to be included.  It was something constructive for her to do.  Malinza was also allowing Petra to attend what passed for basic schooling among the Jedi adepts—essential lessons in literacy, mathematics, and galactic history suitable for anyone—and she seemed to enjoy it.  She had new friends, new hobbies, and seemed very eager to put down roots.  Malinza was torn on that point, not certain how permanent she should want those roots to be.

Before she could wonder any more about it, Luke was walking out to join her.  All the Jedi on the field instructed their charges to pause and acknowledge the Grand Master.  They all bowed, but Petra jumped up and down and waved, a sight that seemed to lighten his pensive mood.

“I wasn’t aware that Petra had been apprenticed,” Luke observed with a smile as they all returned to their exercises.  

“She’s thoroughly enchanted with Jedi at the moment,” Malinza explained.  “She’s determined to be one when she grows up, though she’s a little unclear on the details.”

“I wonder how her mother feels about that,” Luke said with a knowing look.  “Not exactly in the family tradition.”

Malinza heaved a sigh that betrayed the depth of her personal frustration.  “Her mother doesn’t know what to feel anymore,” she confessed.  “I think we need to talk about that, if you’re not too busy.”

“About what?”

Very deliberately, Malinza folded her legs beneath her and sank into the grass.  “Uncle Luke,” she announced, “I think I’m officially having a mid-life crisis.”

He almost laughed, probably would have if he wasn’t already so low himself.  He shrugged instead.  “You’re . . . what?  Twenty-seven?  Might as well get it over with, I guess.  Jaina was twenty-six when she had hers, and I don’t think she’s quite come out the other side yet.”

“What about you?”

“Twenty-nine, but I’ve always been a late bloomer.”  Luke carefully sat down beside her, still favoring that knee.  “You have my full attention,” he promised.  “Shoot.”

“I need your honest opinion of the Cosmic Balance,” Malinza explained.  “I think I already know what you’ll say, but I want to hear it anyway, how you would explain all this.”

Now Luke sighed, no doubt coming to terms with the depth and breadth of the request.  “I confess I can’t subscribe to that theory as stated,” he said, the seriousness of the conversation striking a strange counterpoint to the cheers and squeals of the children.  “I do think that an existential balance is a good thing, an ideal to strive for, but I can’t believe that the vital force of the universe is so finite that excellence for one must necessarily inflict deprivation on another.  Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Malinza said.  That was the fundamental claim after all, that excesses of any kind caused an equal and opposite effect elsewhere, that the Balance would be maintained as certainly as nature abhorred a vacuum.  In practice, it was primarily an obsession with the notion that good fortune caused equivalent bad somewhere else, and that if one didn’t consciously offer the universe sufficient suffering to counterbalance one’s own success, that deprivation would strike elsewhere at random.  “I’m willing to be convinced,” she allowed, “but what makes you so sure?”

“Well,” Luke shrugged again, “primarily my own experience.  This is what I am, what nature made me.”  He gestured at the field churning with Jedi younglings.  “Why would any of us exist this way if we were a threat to the order of the universe?”  

That was the sticking point Malinza had come to earlier.  What was the role of Force-sensitives in a balanced cosmos?  

“I realize I’m coming at this question with a privileged perspective,” Luke continued, “but as one who’s experienced the Force, I can assure you that it’s impossibly vast, with more than enough to go around.  Nothing we do can diminish it, and any movement we cause is like a wave in an ocean.  It’s something we step into, not drain.”

Malinza just nodded.  She wanted to believe it.  In many ways it would be a relief.  She had witnessed enough lately to believe the Force was real, a phenomenon Luke was obviously much better qualified to understand.  In an uncertain and mysterious universe, he was probably the closest thing she would ever find to someone who had actually looked beyond the veil and seen the cosmos at work.

“Look,” he said, lowering his voice and changing tack.  “I’ll tell you what I told your mother forty years ago.  She asked me what right I had to special powers.  But this isn’t something any of us have by right.  Blessing or curse, it’s a calling.  We don’t ask for it, but there will always be a subset of the population born with the ability to touch the Force.  Some will choose to use those abilities for evil.  What kind of balance can there be if the rest of us aren’t prepared to resist them?”

“That’s a good question,” Malinza admitted.  “I couldn’t find any answer for it besides a blanket condemnation of Force-users, dark or otherwise.”

“Pardon my saying so,” Luke said, treating her to the honesty she’d asked for as they both watched Petra attempt a guided handspring, “but that to me is a clear indication of a deficient philosophy.  We exist, so now what?  If the Balance can’t explain us or accommodate us beyond condemning us for our natural talents, then I say it’s not an adequate explanation of reality.”  

“Fair point.”

“And besides that,” Luke continued with new momentum, “if we follow that thesis to its logical conclusion, I don’t like what shakes out.  Let’s take your mother and your aunt.  Gaeriel got the Imperial education, the brilliant political career, but to offset all that her sister felt obliged to starve and deprive herself so faithfully that she was too broken to take responsibility for her orphan niece when the time came, despite being her closest living relation.  Unacceptable.  Now, let’s take our own situation.  Ben is a bit more gifted than Petra, if we’re being brutally honest.  Should we sacrifice her life to balance his?”  Luke threw up his hands and let them fall back into his lap, his face twisted into an exasperated frown.  “Can you really believe in a reality that would force us to choose?”  

Malinza sighed, twisting her fingers in a handful of grass.  “I used to,” she said, ready to come clean.  “Back when things were really bad, when Mara was dying and the Vong were invading, I was starving myself whenever I could get away with it, just trying to keep you two alive.”

Luke’s exasperation only deepened, but he bit back whatever first leapt to the tip of his tongue.  “Well, thanks for my share of the favor,” he finally said, trying to be gracious, “but please don’t do anything like that ever again.”  

“It seemed to be working,” Malinza protested.  “Mara got better, you guys finally had a child.  I just . . . I just wanted to help somehow.”

Luke reached across the gap and wrapped his hand around hers.  “I know you did, sweetheart,” he said, “but I just don’t think it works that way.”

“Then why have you had such a rough time of it?” Malinza demanded with sudden emotion, throwing her last objection out there.  “Why?   If the Balance isn’t righting itself, and the Force is so forgiving, then why do you keep getting punished for being the hero?”

Luke’s brows fell, and he just gaped at her for a moment while he processed the question.  “Kiddo,” he protested, frustrated and sympathetic at once, “that’s not how any of this works!  Nothing is punishing me.  It’s . . . it’s just what happens when you put yourself out there.  It doesn’t mean anything.”  

He paused and rubbed at what might be a sudden tension headache.  “Okay, listen,” he began again.  “Let’s take it to the basics.  Bad things happen, right?  Evil people exist, and always will.  Now, how should we deal with that?  Should we just keep our heads down to avoid upsetting the Balance, or should someone stand up and do something even at the risk of suffering for it?”

The way Luke was dissecting the Balance in front of her was making Malinza feel slightly foolish.  “That doesn’t seem like an entirely fair question,” she complained.

“It’s the only question that matters,” Luke insisted, going for the jugular.  “Evil will always seek dominance, and I don’t think any amount of asceticism or preemptive mortification will fend it off, or that anyone can avoid all bad outcomes by just keeping a low profile.  If you have greatness in you, be great.  If not, then do the best you possibly can and be proud of it.  Make all the ripples you want.  Balance isn’t a cosmic pendulum waiting to knock you down if you stand higher than the next guy.  Balance is created and maintained by good people frustrating the bad, and that work is never done, just a continuing cycle of violence as each generation puts their particular evil in its place.  Those tasked with maintaining that balance often suffer the most, but that’s just a natural consequence of standing in harm’s way, not some mystical punishment.”

Maybe Malinza had expected something equally partisan from the Jedi, some complicated theory of existence that had to be accepted on faith alone, but Luke had given her nothing but ruthless logic, and his understanding of the Force wasn’t based on faith.  He saw it, felt it, lived in it.  He knew its rhythms and how it moved.  Malinza wondered if her mother had grappled with those same problems, and whether her brief encounter with Luke had seeded similar doubts in her mind.  She wondered what Gaeriel would have said if she’d had a chance to have this conversation.

“All right,” Malinza said, willing to meet him there.  “So the Jedi preserve order by counterbalancing evil.  But what keeps the Jedi in balance?”

“We have a strict code of conduct,” Luke assured her.  “Our power is only for knowledge and defense, never aggression or self-aggrandizement.  We aren’t conquerors, just peace-keepers.”

Malinza offered him a pitiful little smile.  “There hasn’t been a lot of peace in the past few generations,” she pointed out.

“We’ve had our work cut out for us,” Luke agreed.  “The hits just keep coming.  But we aren’t dead yet.”

He sounded optimistic but he looked exhausted, and part of Malinza was afraid Luke did have one foot in the grave whether he wanted to admit it or not.  Losing Mara had really torn the heart out of him, but somehow he was still standing, even if that was little more than a reflex formed over decades of being knocked down and getting up every time.  It seemed like he just didn’t know any other way to be.  However Luke finally met his destiny, Malinza was sure he would be on his feet, even if he was only half alive.  They could all use inspiration like that.

Petra came running to meet them as the other adepts sat down for more specialized training.  “Mommy!  Did you see?  Jedi Saskia helped me flip!”

“And very well, too,” Malinza congratulated her.  “What else have you been doing today?”

“We did some reading,” Petra said, turning up her nose.  “I’m still the best reader.”

Now Luke did laugh.  “Sounds like somebody I used to know,” he said, casting a sly look at Malinza.  

Petra turned to him with a self-assured smile, but it faded as she seemed to recognize that he still wasn’t functioning at full power.  She didn’t ask any questions, but just pushed her way into his lap and put her arms around his neck, a simple gesture of empathy and innocence that seemed to do Luke more good than another twelve hours’ sleep.  

Malinza felt a thousand different sentiments in a sudden silent torrent, like the bottom falling out of a cloud.  She was mourning the loss of her whole conception of existence and an imagined connection to her mother, but at the same time felt a relief that came with the ultimate resolution of that tension that she’d been grappling with since adolescence, the freedom and permission to embrace her sponsor-father and everything he represented without any requisite guilt.  There was barely any time to feel the loss before she was inundated with a new sense of belonging.  It was gratifying to see her daughter enjoying the same influence Uncle Luke had impressed upon her childhood, but at the same time Malinza had enough perspective to appreciate how unfathomable it was that fate had plucked her of all people off a colonial backwater and placed her in the care of the Jedi Grand Master.  There was almost no accounting for it, but in such chaotic times it helped to know they were in good hands.  

Luke glanced back at her over Petra’s messy curls.  “Anyway,” he said, “I hope that helped.”

“You did a very thorough job of eviscerating my belief system,” Malinza observed.

“I’m not trying to tell you what to believe,” Luke insisted, “but you asked for my opinion.  What you do with it is up to you.”

She scoffed.  “As if I can just ignore all that.  Part of me is amazed you sat on that speech for two decades without saying anything.”

“What right did I have to barge in and trample on your worldview?  I assumed you’d ask when you were ready, and here we are.”  

Malinza shook her head, feeling a smirk creeping across her face.  “Your patience is truly preternatural,” she said, laying on a thick slather of sarcasm.  “But I notice that didn’t stop you from systematically instilling your own worldview in my head the whole time.”

Luke just smiled and shrugged.  “Told you I’d never lie to you.”  

Our journey through Legacy of the Force will continue in Legends Are For the Brave: Chapter 40.