Definitions of Destiny: Chapter 7
Title: Definitions of Destiny
Author: Caryn B
Fandom: Star Wars (film canon only - see notes)
Timeline: 6 months after RotJ
Pairing: Luke/Han, slash
Rating: NC-17 overall; this chapter PG-13
Warnings: None
The list of chapters is here
Chapter 7
Mon Mothma tapped in the code to her private quarters, exhaustion causing her to lean against the wall as she did so. As her door slid open, she heard the sound of the lift-tube behind her whirr to a halt. Steeling herself for what would most likely be another urgent matter that couldn't wait till morning, she turned around.
Leia smiled at her, and Mon Mothma relaxed with almost guilty relief. Even if this was business, Leia's company was never tiresome.
"Are you coming to see me?" she asked.
"Yes. Do you mind?" Leia looked apologetic. Free-time was a rarity and usually jealously guarded if possible. It went without saying that Leia wouldn't want to intrude on Mon Mothma's.
"I was just about to pour myself a very large brandy," Mon Mothma confessed. "Come and have one with me."
Mon Mothma's apartment looked very much like all the others in the wing, although she'd made an effort to make the place her own by adding personal items. She caught Leia's wistful glance around, and understood where the shadows in her eyes came from. Mon Mothma was deeply attached to her homeworld, and the items she owned reflected this. Leia, of course, had nothing to compare from Alderaan. She'd simply lost everything. Mon Mothma knew that Leia's lack of possessions was irrelevant to her - but their absence served as a reminder of what had gone.
Mon Mothma handed her a full glass of amber liquor, and sank thankfully into an armchair, indicating to Leia to do the same.
"The senator from Kermian is always so difficult," she murmured, knowing she'd have nothing but agreement from Leia.
"I saw the summary of her requests," Leia said, with a light laugh.
"Demands more like. Why do people think we're a bottomless pit of resources?"
"They're just looking for an easy answer. We've found out the hard way there just isn't one."
Mon Mothma raised her glass. "To another day dealt with."
Leia grimaced. "I don't know how well I've really dealt with mine."
"Problems?"
"Personal ones," Leia admitted.
Mon Mothma put her glass down, concern pushing all her tiredness aside. "You're alright aren't you?" Looking closely at Leia, Mon Mothma noticed the puffiness around her eyes. She looked almost as though she'd been crying.
"Oh, yes. I'm not ill or anything." Leia paused. "I wanted you to know... Han and I have split up."
"Oh, Leia. I'm so sorry. What happened?"
"It's complicated. But it's been building up for a long while. Really, ever since we got together."
"Can't you work things out?"
"No, we can't do that. We haven't fallen out, just agreed to be friends from now on."
"Can I help? I mean, I don't know what I could do, but if there is anything..."
Leia smiled. "Just listening to me helps. I was going to spend the evening by myself, and that would've meant brooding. But what's done is done. I've just got to get on with things."
"You're really certain it's final? I've had terrible rows in the past, which I never thought could be resolved. But the next day they didn't seem so bad."
"It's not like that. But it is final. Earlier this evening I moved into Apartment 11."
"You're just below me then," Mon Mothma pointed out. "It'll be nice to have you near - but I'm sorry for the reasons."
"It's odd," Leia said, her expression thoughtful, "but in some ways I'm relieved. It was always there, at the back of my mind, that something wasn't right. Call it intuition."
Mon Mothma studied Leia. It wasn't like her to be so forthcoming about personal concerns. But maybe this break-up with Han was just one thing too many, coming as it did not long after her discovery of the truth about Vader. Leia had demonstrated her extraordinary strength of mind enough times, but even people such as her benefited from offloading their troubles occasionally. And perhaps Leia saw this as losing Han for a second time. Having worked so hard to free him from that Hutt, she must've hoped he'd be back in her life for a long time.
"Maybe Han finds it difficult to adjust?" she suggested, more for the sake of saying something than because she felt she had any insight. "After answering to no-one but himself, being more committed might make him uncomfortable."
Leia shook her head, "That's not it. He's very committed. To me, to the Alliance, to his friends... In the early days, when he first got involved with Luke, he always talked of leaving, but I think even then he'd found something to make him stay. It wasn't his idea to split up, it was mine. Han would've stuck it out forever if I'd asked him to."
She gave a slightly rueful smile. "You know, it's funny, but I keep remembering when we first met - Han, Luke and me. We'd made it back to Yavin IV, but we knew the Empire had tracked us there. The fighters were gearing up, ready to go, and Han was leaving. Luke was furious with him, and very upset too. I told him that Han had to find his own path. That no-one could choose it for him. But then I ended up trying to do that very thing just a few years later."
"But Han could've left at any time and didn't," Mon Mothma protested. "It was his choice to stay, surely? It sounds like you're blaming yourself."
"I don't really think anyone's to blame. Extreme circumstances can make you see things in a certain way, but it might not be the right way. Sorry - I'm not going to be making much sense, but it's difficult to explain. And there's someone else involved, which makes it impossible for me to say any more."
"Of course. I'm here for whatever you want to tell me - nothing more."
Leia looked back at her for a long moment. "I think," she said slowly, "that if you take me out of the picture, you'll see where the problem lies. I think you'll understand."
Mon Mothma shook her head, a little confused and not really following Leia's meaning. She changed tack slightly. "Han will stay with us?"
"Oh yes," Leia said. She paused, frowning. "Unless... You know, maybe there is something you could do."
"Go on."
"It's going to sound very odd, and I'm not sure I can explain it properly."
"Well, you try and I'll listen."
Leia took a long swallow of her drink. "It's about Luke."
"Oh?"
"He.. I... Oh, this is so difficult. He wouldn't like me talking like this, and I don't want to go behind his back."
"Showing concern for someone isn't the same as going behind someone's back. And I'm guessing you are concerned about him?"
"Do you remember when we came to see you? To tell you about Vader?"
Mon Mothma smiled. "I'm hardly likely to forget am I?"
Leia inclined her head, acknowledging that point. "You were surprised about Vader being a father. From the point of view of Jedi rules, or something like that."
"Yes, but those rules have been lost for years."
"It's the fact they existed at all that's the problem."
"What do you mean?"
"Luke's conflicted over what he feels is the right way to go. Part of this is because he thinks the Jedi are meant to be alone, for their own safety and the protection of others."
Mon Mothma frowned, but didn't speak.
"I don't know what to think. I only know that we both need to set aside our fear of the past and talk about it."
"Haven't you done that?"
"Not really. Luke wants to know what I remember about our mother, but for some reason I can't talk about it. Every time he brings it up I manage to change the subject. I don't know why. Maybe I'm just not ready. With Vader and everything..."
"Well that's understandable. You have some recollection of your mother then?"
Leia sighed. "I don't know. I don't see how I can, and that's what I find so hard to accept. Because I was adopted as a baby. Father - Bail - told me she died when I was very young, but somehow I still have this memory of her. But what if it's not real? What if it's just wishful thinking?"
"And it's important to you that the memory is a real one." Mon Mothma didn't make it a question, because Leia's uneasiness with the conversation was sufficient answer to that.
Leia nodded. "Yes. But I think if I talk to Luke I'll discover it isn't. There's so little of my past left to hang on to. Everything's turning out to be different. I can't even trust my own memories."
Mon Mothma nodded, remaining silent and hoping that Leia would choose not to question her further about her own memories of the past. She was too uncertain, and the subject matter too charged to make any kind of assumptions.
"That day, when we came to see you," Leia continued, "there was something you remembered, wasn't there?"
"Just vague bits and pieces. Nothing specific," Mon Mothma explained, keeping her tone casual to disguise her inner dismay.
"I think it was," Leia disagreed. "I don't want to talk about it right now. But would you talk to Luke?"
Mon Mothma sighed. "To be honest Leia, I've been waiting for him to come back to me. I knew he'd read something into my reactions, just as you did. And I do need to talk to him about another matter. A short assignment. I was going to call him tomorrow anyway."
"An assignment? For Rogue Squadron?"
"No. This would be in his capacity as a Jedi."
"Oh, I see."
"It's entirely up to him, of course. He may not wish to do it."
"I'm sure he'll be happy to help in any way he can. It's just so new to him, being seen like that... officially."
"I understand that. And it may not happen anyway. Forgive me if I don't explain in any more detail tonight. I'm not being secretive - just cautious. I'm expecting a visitor sometime tomorrow. If he arrives safely, it'll be his assignment too."
"You're expecting this visitor might run into trouble?"
Mon Mothma retrieved her glass and sipped at the contents. "No. I've just spent too many years trying to avoid tempting fate to start doing it now."
Leia smiled at her. "I know what you mean. But it sounds like you won't get a chance to have any sort of private word with Luke."
"I promise I'll try. But you know, whatever Luke decides to do, it'll be his choice. Nothing I can say will change that, and... what if I make things worse?"
"What could be worse than what he's learned already?" Leia said. "I just have this funny idea that Luke needs to unravel the past in order to see the future."
"But what if it can't be unraveled? I know next to nothing about the Jedi. Besides, Luke's an individual with his own identity, living in very different times. The galaxy's not the same - almost nothing's the same now. We've all moved on."
"Yes. It's not about moving on, he's more than capable of that. It's about letting others into his life."
"You, do you mean?"
"Partly." Leia sank further back into the chair. The overhead glowpanel accentuated the dark shadows beneath her eyes and highlighted the fatigue etched across her face. "But I'm really talking about relationships."
Leia's comments about the old Jedi rules made more sense now. Mon Mothma was, if anything, a realist, but even she felt the attraction of wanting people to be happy and circumstances to be perfect. However, she wasn't sure how Luke fitted in with this ideal. He wasn't like anybody else she knew.
"If there ever is anyone, he'll make his own mind up," she remarked.
Leia sat up again, mild amusement pushing aside the signs of tiredness on her face. "Oh, there is someone. There always has been."
After Leia had left, Mon Mothma remained sitting in her chair, trying to summon up the energy to take a shower. It was a minor miracle that her comlink hadn't gone off, or that nobody else had come to the door.
She had a great deal of sympathy for Leia's preoccupation with the past. Even though Leia had voiced it as anxiety over Luke and claimed not to want to know more, Mon Mothma was well-practiced in reading between the lines. Leia was as much in need of knowledge as Luke was, but at the same time she was frightened that discovering more would also mean losing something else. But Mon Mothma could understand their need for clarification. It was fine for her to talk about moving on - her past was still there, as intact as it'd ever been. For Luke and Leia, they'd had their old identities more-or-less thrown back in their faces.
The people they'd thought they'd been no longer existed. Leia, who'd already lost so much, was clearly afraid to lose those hazy memories of part of her childhood that might never even have happened. Mon Mothma knew too little of Luke's childhood, and wished she'd paid more attention when General Dodonna had told her about the farmboy from Tatooine who'd joined them so spectacularly. At that moment in time, there'd been too much to think about. Amazement at their narrow escape, relief over the destruction of the Death Star, an almost sadistic pleasure at the death of Tarkin, bewilderment over the re-emergence of Obi-Wan Kenobi and, predominantly, grief over the murder of Bail and the destruction of Alderaan.
Luke and Leia were two individuals who'd grown up worlds apart, and had life-styles so hugely different that no-one could ever have expected their paths to cross. Their reunion was startling in its unlikelihood, until you began to consider the reality beneath. Mon Mothma didn't fully understand it, but within each of them they seemed to have a part of each other that went far beyond shared genes. It had inexorably drawn them together, but as well as bringing obvious joy, it also brought a new kind of fear. Knowing what their father had become, how could anyone blame them for looking inwards, and wondering if those same traits lay within, waiting to surface?
And Luke was searching for clues. Not only to his father's past, but to the reasons for his fall. It was inevitable that he'd want to know just what role his mother might have played in that. And equally inevitable that Luke would turn to those with some association with past events, even if the connection was a tenuous one, like her own.
And she had no evidence. Nothing but the vaguest feeling that something had played out in those last days of the Republic. Something that had happened just below the surface of public awareness, and which had brushed the edges of her own political activities.
The circumstances surrounding the death of Senator Amidala had been puzzling even back then. If there were any grounds at all for her suspicions, those events now looked much more sinister. Although she and the senator hadn't had a chance to become good friends, Mon Mothma thought they might've done so. And if she'd lived, Mon Mothma had no doubt that Padmé would have been as active as she and Bail in the formative Rebel Alliance. Mon Mothma recalled how Bail had talked of Padmé with grief. He'd lost a friend, for the two of them had grown close in the closing stages of the Clone Wars. And it was possible, in keeping true to that friendship, that Bail had done a great deal more than Mon Mothma had realized.
She resolved to contact Luke immediately rather than wait until morning. At least she could fulfill that small request of Leia's. She didn't yet know what she'd say to him, and she realized that she was now doing just what she'd told Leia she preferred not to do. She was tempting fate, because she was relying on the visitor she was expecting tomorrow to point her in the right direction.
Mon Mothma yawned, and swirled the last of the brandy round in her glass. She felt intensely weary, much of it to do with the emotional drain that responsibility over those she cared about brought. Luke, who hid his troubles deep inside, and seemed to live his life solely in pursuit of others' safety and happiness. And Leia, as strong as Luke and just as motivated, but equally as troubled, now struggling to come to terms with a failed relationship that might've helped lay her ghosts to rest.
And then there was Han, who would probably always remain just as much of a mystery to Mon Mothma. Outwardly confident, volatile and difficult - those characteristics were barely the sum of his parts. Underneath was someone much more complex. Someone that even Leia had implied she'd not reached. The odd words Leia had used came to mind - if you take me out of the picture...
It was hard to think of Han without visualizing Leia, because ever since Mon Mothma had known Han, he'd been with Leia in some form or other. But there were his other friends and companions too. In her mind, Chewbacca and Han were practically inseparable. Then there was Lando. Although they spent a huge proportion of their time arguing, Han and Lando were still good friends. But they weren't as close as Han and Luke.
Mon Mothma put her glass down slowly on the table beside her. It was only one little incident out of many, and there was no reason why it, out of all the others, should come to mind now. A meeting in her office, arguing the case for sending Luke out alone on a difficult recon mission. Luke had wanted to go, but Madine had preferred to send Wedge. To the General, the possibility of losing Luke was too high a risk to take, and he'd clearly hoped to cut down on Luke's more dangerous assignments. But Luke hadn't wanted to be kept under wraps, and Han had understood that, coming up with the one single argument that threw the balance in Luke's favor. And Luke had smiled at Han. It'd been a straightforward expression of gratitude, but Han's reaction had seemed far from simple to Mon Mothma. Perhaps she'd been imagining things, because nobody else had reacted as though Han had done anything other than smile back.
Looking back on it now, and remembering other little occurrences, it seemed to Mon Mothma that when Luke's attention was on Han, a subtle change seemed to come over Han. She hadn't thought much about it before. Wars forged strong bonds, and those two had been through so much together, it was hardly surprising they were close. But in the light of what she'd just learned... there's someone else involved...
"Sweet stars," Mon Mothma murmured to herself. "What a mess."
***
Hurrying towards the lift-tube, Luke stopped midway along the corridor. With a glance at his chrono and a stifled curse, he turned back. There was nothing unusual about the fact that he was late, and Han was hardly likely to be on time either. But Luke was feeling strangely wound up over the prospect of seeing Han again, and it was making him more conscious of things not going to plan.
Except he didn't really have a plan, he acknowledged, as he tapped in the code to his apartment. Inside, R2-D2 greeted his return with a disapproving beep.
"Sorry Artoo. I just forgot. I'm gonna to be late back tonight," Luke explained. "You don't need to worry."
Artoo whirred back at him plaintively, querying the arrangements.
"No - you can't come this time. I'm only meeting Han. We're gonna take a speeder into Jira."
Luke touched the droid affectionately on his dome, and headed back out again. Ever since Endor, Artoo had been more than usually anxious to know Luke's plans, to the extent that Luke found himself worrying about the droid when he was called away unexpectedly, or held up for longer than anticipated. Han found the whole business hilarious, and missed few opportunities to ask Luke if he'd checked with Artoo before going out.
Luke suspected Artoo's fears went back to his confrontation with the Emperor and Vader, but no matter how hard he tried to get Artoo to explain, the droid refused to elaborate. It was as though something in the past had traumatized him - if such a thing was possible with droids - and Luke's departure to the Death Star had reactivated that distress.
Luke was certain Artoo hadn't expected him to return at all, but he didn't think Artoo believed he would die there either. It left only one other obvious scenario - that Luke might've chosen to remain there. Why that possibility should've entered Artoo's thought processes was a mystery. But after Luke had rejoined the others, Artoo had stuck to him like a swampleech, following him around and needing constant reassurance that Luke wasn't just going to disappear into the night and never return.
The droid's behavior might have driven anyone else to distraction, but Luke didn't see why Artoo should have less consideration than anyone or anything else. One day, Luke intended to get to the bottom of it, but right now, he had a problem of a totally different nature to occupy him. Han.
He'd realized, somewhere between the moment when Han had taken hold of his wrist, and the first words he'd managed to find after Han had kissed him, that he had a lot more to worry about than controlling his feelings. And if he'd imagined he was at least half-way towards handling emotions that contradicted Yoda's advice, then he was better at fooling himself than he'd believed.
But he hadn't fooled Leia, and the knowledge was like a sharp rebuke. Because even knowing how much she would've been hurting hadn't prevented him from wanting that kiss to last indefinitely. But it was back to the same old arguments. That wanting something was a far cry from having something, and nothing was ever straightforward. And Leia telling him to keep an open mind was hardly justification to completely disregard her feelings. And that didn't even touch on the issue of what was right from the Jedi perspective...
The beeping of his comlink alerted him to the fact that he'd traveled too far down in the lift-tube. So much for keeping his mind on where he was and what he was doing.
He got out anyway, partly because it was easier to answer his comlink, but also because it averted the possibility of others wondering why Luke Skywalker was wasting time going up and down in a lift tube.
Mon Mothma sounded strange, but with the way the day was turning out, it would've been too easy to make something out of nothing, so Luke put it down to tiredness.
"I've got to see Admiral Ackbar first thing, but I should have some time straight after that," he said, curious as to why Mon Mothma was calling him at this time of the evening.
He signed off, having agreed to a morning meeting that seemed to have no specific purpose as far as he could make out.
He glanced around the storage basement, looking for an alternative way up to the small transport bays. He spotted the ascent tunnel, and sprinted towards it.
Luke reached the speeder park at around the same time as Han, who came hurriedly through the opposite tunnel, looking as harassed as Luke felt. Han's steps faltered on sighting Luke, just as Luke had felt himself slow down instinctively on spotting Han. They looked at each other for a moment with more awkwardness than they'd ever shown each other before.
Han cleared his throat. "You managed to get away then?"
"Yeah - got stopped a few times on the way here. Ackbar cornered me wanting a run-down on the new X-wing firing sights. You know how much he likes to talk. I've gotta see him in the morning. Said I'd fill him in properly then. And Mon Mothma called me-" Luke checked himself, knowing he was talking for the sake of talking, and his words were coming out far too quickly. The really odd thing was that Han hadn't seemed to notice.
"I bumped into Lando. He wanted to join us," Han said.
"Oh... is he going to?"
"Nope," Han said shortly. He seemed to be studying Luke's face as though trying to work out whether Luke was relieved or disappointed by that. Luke thought maybe he should find out why Lando wasn't coming, but Han changed the subject before he had a chance to ask.
"You got somewhere in mind to go?"
"There's a bar I know down in the old town. I've been there with the Rogues a few times. It's okay."
Han nodded. "Sounds good to me."
chapter 8
Author: Caryn B
Fandom: Star Wars (film canon only - see notes)
Timeline: 6 months after RotJ
Pairing: Luke/Han, slash
Rating: NC-17 overall; this chapter PG-13
Warnings: None
The list of chapters is here
Chapter 7
Mon Mothma tapped in the code to her private quarters, exhaustion causing her to lean against the wall as she did so. As her door slid open, she heard the sound of the lift-tube behind her whirr to a halt. Steeling herself for what would most likely be another urgent matter that couldn't wait till morning, she turned around.
Leia smiled at her, and Mon Mothma relaxed with almost guilty relief. Even if this was business, Leia's company was never tiresome.
"Are you coming to see me?" she asked.
"Yes. Do you mind?" Leia looked apologetic. Free-time was a rarity and usually jealously guarded if possible. It went without saying that Leia wouldn't want to intrude on Mon Mothma's.
"I was just about to pour myself a very large brandy," Mon Mothma confessed. "Come and have one with me."
Mon Mothma's apartment looked very much like all the others in the wing, although she'd made an effort to make the place her own by adding personal items. She caught Leia's wistful glance around, and understood where the shadows in her eyes came from. Mon Mothma was deeply attached to her homeworld, and the items she owned reflected this. Leia, of course, had nothing to compare from Alderaan. She'd simply lost everything. Mon Mothma knew that Leia's lack of possessions was irrelevant to her - but their absence served as a reminder of what had gone.
Mon Mothma handed her a full glass of amber liquor, and sank thankfully into an armchair, indicating to Leia to do the same.
"The senator from Kermian is always so difficult," she murmured, knowing she'd have nothing but agreement from Leia.
"I saw the summary of her requests," Leia said, with a light laugh.
"Demands more like. Why do people think we're a bottomless pit of resources?"
"They're just looking for an easy answer. We've found out the hard way there just isn't one."
Mon Mothma raised her glass. "To another day dealt with."
Leia grimaced. "I don't know how well I've really dealt with mine."
"Problems?"
"Personal ones," Leia admitted.
Mon Mothma put her glass down, concern pushing all her tiredness aside. "You're alright aren't you?" Looking closely at Leia, Mon Mothma noticed the puffiness around her eyes. She looked almost as though she'd been crying.
"Oh, yes. I'm not ill or anything." Leia paused. "I wanted you to know... Han and I have split up."
"Oh, Leia. I'm so sorry. What happened?"
"It's complicated. But it's been building up for a long while. Really, ever since we got together."
"Can't you work things out?"
"No, we can't do that. We haven't fallen out, just agreed to be friends from now on."
"Can I help? I mean, I don't know what I could do, but if there is anything..."
Leia smiled. "Just listening to me helps. I was going to spend the evening by myself, and that would've meant brooding. But what's done is done. I've just got to get on with things."
"You're really certain it's final? I've had terrible rows in the past, which I never thought could be resolved. But the next day they didn't seem so bad."
"It's not like that. But it is final. Earlier this evening I moved into Apartment 11."
"You're just below me then," Mon Mothma pointed out. "It'll be nice to have you near - but I'm sorry for the reasons."
"It's odd," Leia said, her expression thoughtful, "but in some ways I'm relieved. It was always there, at the back of my mind, that something wasn't right. Call it intuition."
Mon Mothma studied Leia. It wasn't like her to be so forthcoming about personal concerns. But maybe this break-up with Han was just one thing too many, coming as it did not long after her discovery of the truth about Vader. Leia had demonstrated her extraordinary strength of mind enough times, but even people such as her benefited from offloading their troubles occasionally. And perhaps Leia saw this as losing Han for a second time. Having worked so hard to free him from that Hutt, she must've hoped he'd be back in her life for a long time.
"Maybe Han finds it difficult to adjust?" she suggested, more for the sake of saying something than because she felt she had any insight. "After answering to no-one but himself, being more committed might make him uncomfortable."
Leia shook her head, "That's not it. He's very committed. To me, to the Alliance, to his friends... In the early days, when he first got involved with Luke, he always talked of leaving, but I think even then he'd found something to make him stay. It wasn't his idea to split up, it was mine. Han would've stuck it out forever if I'd asked him to."
She gave a slightly rueful smile. "You know, it's funny, but I keep remembering when we first met - Han, Luke and me. We'd made it back to Yavin IV, but we knew the Empire had tracked us there. The fighters were gearing up, ready to go, and Han was leaving. Luke was furious with him, and very upset too. I told him that Han had to find his own path. That no-one could choose it for him. But then I ended up trying to do that very thing just a few years later."
"But Han could've left at any time and didn't," Mon Mothma protested. "It was his choice to stay, surely? It sounds like you're blaming yourself."
"I don't really think anyone's to blame. Extreme circumstances can make you see things in a certain way, but it might not be the right way. Sorry - I'm not going to be making much sense, but it's difficult to explain. And there's someone else involved, which makes it impossible for me to say any more."
"Of course. I'm here for whatever you want to tell me - nothing more."
Leia looked back at her for a long moment. "I think," she said slowly, "that if you take me out of the picture, you'll see where the problem lies. I think you'll understand."
Mon Mothma shook her head, a little confused and not really following Leia's meaning. She changed tack slightly. "Han will stay with us?"
"Oh yes," Leia said. She paused, frowning. "Unless... You know, maybe there is something you could do."
"Go on."
"It's going to sound very odd, and I'm not sure I can explain it properly."
"Well, you try and I'll listen."
Leia took a long swallow of her drink. "It's about Luke."
"Oh?"
"He.. I... Oh, this is so difficult. He wouldn't like me talking like this, and I don't want to go behind his back."
"Showing concern for someone isn't the same as going behind someone's back. And I'm guessing you are concerned about him?"
"Do you remember when we came to see you? To tell you about Vader?"
Mon Mothma smiled. "I'm hardly likely to forget am I?"
Leia inclined her head, acknowledging that point. "You were surprised about Vader being a father. From the point of view of Jedi rules, or something like that."
"Yes, but those rules have been lost for years."
"It's the fact they existed at all that's the problem."
"What do you mean?"
"Luke's conflicted over what he feels is the right way to go. Part of this is because he thinks the Jedi are meant to be alone, for their own safety and the protection of others."
Mon Mothma frowned, but didn't speak.
"I don't know what to think. I only know that we both need to set aside our fear of the past and talk about it."
"Haven't you done that?"
"Not really. Luke wants to know what I remember about our mother, but for some reason I can't talk about it. Every time he brings it up I manage to change the subject. I don't know why. Maybe I'm just not ready. With Vader and everything..."
"Well that's understandable. You have some recollection of your mother then?"
Leia sighed. "I don't know. I don't see how I can, and that's what I find so hard to accept. Because I was adopted as a baby. Father - Bail - told me she died when I was very young, but somehow I still have this memory of her. But what if it's not real? What if it's just wishful thinking?"
"And it's important to you that the memory is a real one." Mon Mothma didn't make it a question, because Leia's uneasiness with the conversation was sufficient answer to that.
Leia nodded. "Yes. But I think if I talk to Luke I'll discover it isn't. There's so little of my past left to hang on to. Everything's turning out to be different. I can't even trust my own memories."
Mon Mothma nodded, remaining silent and hoping that Leia would choose not to question her further about her own memories of the past. She was too uncertain, and the subject matter too charged to make any kind of assumptions.
"That day, when we came to see you," Leia continued, "there was something you remembered, wasn't there?"
"Just vague bits and pieces. Nothing specific," Mon Mothma explained, keeping her tone casual to disguise her inner dismay.
"I think it was," Leia disagreed. "I don't want to talk about it right now. But would you talk to Luke?"
Mon Mothma sighed. "To be honest Leia, I've been waiting for him to come back to me. I knew he'd read something into my reactions, just as you did. And I do need to talk to him about another matter. A short assignment. I was going to call him tomorrow anyway."
"An assignment? For Rogue Squadron?"
"No. This would be in his capacity as a Jedi."
"Oh, I see."
"It's entirely up to him, of course. He may not wish to do it."
"I'm sure he'll be happy to help in any way he can. It's just so new to him, being seen like that... officially."
"I understand that. And it may not happen anyway. Forgive me if I don't explain in any more detail tonight. I'm not being secretive - just cautious. I'm expecting a visitor sometime tomorrow. If he arrives safely, it'll be his assignment too."
"You're expecting this visitor might run into trouble?"
Mon Mothma retrieved her glass and sipped at the contents. "No. I've just spent too many years trying to avoid tempting fate to start doing it now."
Leia smiled at her. "I know what you mean. But it sounds like you won't get a chance to have any sort of private word with Luke."
"I promise I'll try. But you know, whatever Luke decides to do, it'll be his choice. Nothing I can say will change that, and... what if I make things worse?"
"What could be worse than what he's learned already?" Leia said. "I just have this funny idea that Luke needs to unravel the past in order to see the future."
"But what if it can't be unraveled? I know next to nothing about the Jedi. Besides, Luke's an individual with his own identity, living in very different times. The galaxy's not the same - almost nothing's the same now. We've all moved on."
"Yes. It's not about moving on, he's more than capable of that. It's about letting others into his life."
"You, do you mean?"
"Partly." Leia sank further back into the chair. The overhead glowpanel accentuated the dark shadows beneath her eyes and highlighted the fatigue etched across her face. "But I'm really talking about relationships."
Leia's comments about the old Jedi rules made more sense now. Mon Mothma was, if anything, a realist, but even she felt the attraction of wanting people to be happy and circumstances to be perfect. However, she wasn't sure how Luke fitted in with this ideal. He wasn't like anybody else she knew.
"If there ever is anyone, he'll make his own mind up," she remarked.
Leia sat up again, mild amusement pushing aside the signs of tiredness on her face. "Oh, there is someone. There always has been."
After Leia had left, Mon Mothma remained sitting in her chair, trying to summon up the energy to take a shower. It was a minor miracle that her comlink hadn't gone off, or that nobody else had come to the door.
She had a great deal of sympathy for Leia's preoccupation with the past. Even though Leia had voiced it as anxiety over Luke and claimed not to want to know more, Mon Mothma was well-practiced in reading between the lines. Leia was as much in need of knowledge as Luke was, but at the same time she was frightened that discovering more would also mean losing something else. But Mon Mothma could understand their need for clarification. It was fine for her to talk about moving on - her past was still there, as intact as it'd ever been. For Luke and Leia, they'd had their old identities more-or-less thrown back in their faces.
The people they'd thought they'd been no longer existed. Leia, who'd already lost so much, was clearly afraid to lose those hazy memories of part of her childhood that might never even have happened. Mon Mothma knew too little of Luke's childhood, and wished she'd paid more attention when General Dodonna had told her about the farmboy from Tatooine who'd joined them so spectacularly. At that moment in time, there'd been too much to think about. Amazement at their narrow escape, relief over the destruction of the Death Star, an almost sadistic pleasure at the death of Tarkin, bewilderment over the re-emergence of Obi-Wan Kenobi and, predominantly, grief over the murder of Bail and the destruction of Alderaan.
Luke and Leia were two individuals who'd grown up worlds apart, and had life-styles so hugely different that no-one could ever have expected their paths to cross. Their reunion was startling in its unlikelihood, until you began to consider the reality beneath. Mon Mothma didn't fully understand it, but within each of them they seemed to have a part of each other that went far beyond shared genes. It had inexorably drawn them together, but as well as bringing obvious joy, it also brought a new kind of fear. Knowing what their father had become, how could anyone blame them for looking inwards, and wondering if those same traits lay within, waiting to surface?
And Luke was searching for clues. Not only to his father's past, but to the reasons for his fall. It was inevitable that he'd want to know just what role his mother might have played in that. And equally inevitable that Luke would turn to those with some association with past events, even if the connection was a tenuous one, like her own.
And she had no evidence. Nothing but the vaguest feeling that something had played out in those last days of the Republic. Something that had happened just below the surface of public awareness, and which had brushed the edges of her own political activities.
The circumstances surrounding the death of Senator Amidala had been puzzling even back then. If there were any grounds at all for her suspicions, those events now looked much more sinister. Although she and the senator hadn't had a chance to become good friends, Mon Mothma thought they might've done so. And if she'd lived, Mon Mothma had no doubt that Padmé would have been as active as she and Bail in the formative Rebel Alliance. Mon Mothma recalled how Bail had talked of Padmé with grief. He'd lost a friend, for the two of them had grown close in the closing stages of the Clone Wars. And it was possible, in keeping true to that friendship, that Bail had done a great deal more than Mon Mothma had realized.
She resolved to contact Luke immediately rather than wait until morning. At least she could fulfill that small request of Leia's. She didn't yet know what she'd say to him, and she realized that she was now doing just what she'd told Leia she preferred not to do. She was tempting fate, because she was relying on the visitor she was expecting tomorrow to point her in the right direction.
Mon Mothma yawned, and swirled the last of the brandy round in her glass. She felt intensely weary, much of it to do with the emotional drain that responsibility over those she cared about brought. Luke, who hid his troubles deep inside, and seemed to live his life solely in pursuit of others' safety and happiness. And Leia, as strong as Luke and just as motivated, but equally as troubled, now struggling to come to terms with a failed relationship that might've helped lay her ghosts to rest.
And then there was Han, who would probably always remain just as much of a mystery to Mon Mothma. Outwardly confident, volatile and difficult - those characteristics were barely the sum of his parts. Underneath was someone much more complex. Someone that even Leia had implied she'd not reached. The odd words Leia had used came to mind - if you take me out of the picture...
It was hard to think of Han without visualizing Leia, because ever since Mon Mothma had known Han, he'd been with Leia in some form or other. But there were his other friends and companions too. In her mind, Chewbacca and Han were practically inseparable. Then there was Lando. Although they spent a huge proportion of their time arguing, Han and Lando were still good friends. But they weren't as close as Han and Luke.
Mon Mothma put her glass down slowly on the table beside her. It was only one little incident out of many, and there was no reason why it, out of all the others, should come to mind now. A meeting in her office, arguing the case for sending Luke out alone on a difficult recon mission. Luke had wanted to go, but Madine had preferred to send Wedge. To the General, the possibility of losing Luke was too high a risk to take, and he'd clearly hoped to cut down on Luke's more dangerous assignments. But Luke hadn't wanted to be kept under wraps, and Han had understood that, coming up with the one single argument that threw the balance in Luke's favor. And Luke had smiled at Han. It'd been a straightforward expression of gratitude, but Han's reaction had seemed far from simple to Mon Mothma. Perhaps she'd been imagining things, because nobody else had reacted as though Han had done anything other than smile back.
Looking back on it now, and remembering other little occurrences, it seemed to Mon Mothma that when Luke's attention was on Han, a subtle change seemed to come over Han. She hadn't thought much about it before. Wars forged strong bonds, and those two had been through so much together, it was hardly surprising they were close. But in the light of what she'd just learned... there's someone else involved...
"Sweet stars," Mon Mothma murmured to herself. "What a mess."
***
Hurrying towards the lift-tube, Luke stopped midway along the corridor. With a glance at his chrono and a stifled curse, he turned back. There was nothing unusual about the fact that he was late, and Han was hardly likely to be on time either. But Luke was feeling strangely wound up over the prospect of seeing Han again, and it was making him more conscious of things not going to plan.
Except he didn't really have a plan, he acknowledged, as he tapped in the code to his apartment. Inside, R2-D2 greeted his return with a disapproving beep.
"Sorry Artoo. I just forgot. I'm gonna to be late back tonight," Luke explained. "You don't need to worry."
Artoo whirred back at him plaintively, querying the arrangements.
"No - you can't come this time. I'm only meeting Han. We're gonna take a speeder into Jira."
Luke touched the droid affectionately on his dome, and headed back out again. Ever since Endor, Artoo had been more than usually anxious to know Luke's plans, to the extent that Luke found himself worrying about the droid when he was called away unexpectedly, or held up for longer than anticipated. Han found the whole business hilarious, and missed few opportunities to ask Luke if he'd checked with Artoo before going out.
Luke suspected Artoo's fears went back to his confrontation with the Emperor and Vader, but no matter how hard he tried to get Artoo to explain, the droid refused to elaborate. It was as though something in the past had traumatized him - if such a thing was possible with droids - and Luke's departure to the Death Star had reactivated that distress.
Luke was certain Artoo hadn't expected him to return at all, but he didn't think Artoo believed he would die there either. It left only one other obvious scenario - that Luke might've chosen to remain there. Why that possibility should've entered Artoo's thought processes was a mystery. But after Luke had rejoined the others, Artoo had stuck to him like a swampleech, following him around and needing constant reassurance that Luke wasn't just going to disappear into the night and never return.
The droid's behavior might have driven anyone else to distraction, but Luke didn't see why Artoo should have less consideration than anyone or anything else. One day, Luke intended to get to the bottom of it, but right now, he had a problem of a totally different nature to occupy him. Han.
He'd realized, somewhere between the moment when Han had taken hold of his wrist, and the first words he'd managed to find after Han had kissed him, that he had a lot more to worry about than controlling his feelings. And if he'd imagined he was at least half-way towards handling emotions that contradicted Yoda's advice, then he was better at fooling himself than he'd believed.
But he hadn't fooled Leia, and the knowledge was like a sharp rebuke. Because even knowing how much she would've been hurting hadn't prevented him from wanting that kiss to last indefinitely. But it was back to the same old arguments. That wanting something was a far cry from having something, and nothing was ever straightforward. And Leia telling him to keep an open mind was hardly justification to completely disregard her feelings. And that didn't even touch on the issue of what was right from the Jedi perspective...
The beeping of his comlink alerted him to the fact that he'd traveled too far down in the lift-tube. So much for keeping his mind on where he was and what he was doing.
He got out anyway, partly because it was easier to answer his comlink, but also because it averted the possibility of others wondering why Luke Skywalker was wasting time going up and down in a lift tube.
Mon Mothma sounded strange, but with the way the day was turning out, it would've been too easy to make something out of nothing, so Luke put it down to tiredness.
"I've got to see Admiral Ackbar first thing, but I should have some time straight after that," he said, curious as to why Mon Mothma was calling him at this time of the evening.
He signed off, having agreed to a morning meeting that seemed to have no specific purpose as far as he could make out.
He glanced around the storage basement, looking for an alternative way up to the small transport bays. He spotted the ascent tunnel, and sprinted towards it.
Luke reached the speeder park at around the same time as Han, who came hurriedly through the opposite tunnel, looking as harassed as Luke felt. Han's steps faltered on sighting Luke, just as Luke had felt himself slow down instinctively on spotting Han. They looked at each other for a moment with more awkwardness than they'd ever shown each other before.
Han cleared his throat. "You managed to get away then?"
"Yeah - got stopped a few times on the way here. Ackbar cornered me wanting a run-down on the new X-wing firing sights. You know how much he likes to talk. I've gotta see him in the morning. Said I'd fill him in properly then. And Mon Mothma called me-" Luke checked himself, knowing he was talking for the sake of talking, and his words were coming out far too quickly. The really odd thing was that Han hadn't seemed to notice.
"I bumped into Lando. He wanted to join us," Han said.
"Oh... is he going to?"
"Nope," Han said shortly. He seemed to be studying Luke's face as though trying to work out whether Luke was relieved or disappointed by that. Luke thought maybe he should find out why Lando wasn't coming, but Han changed the subject before he had a chance to ask.
"You got somewhere in mind to go?"
"There's a bar I know down in the old town. I've been there with the Rogues a few times. It's okay."
Han nodded. "Sounds good to me."
chapter 8