sought
to go on, spewing idle threats that would torment his dreams, but
there was a great milling of some potent tempest. The apparition
shrieked his name and was engulfed by the chaos she had succumbed to,
the path she had chosen in the end. Luke often wondered why her
broken body did not vanish in death as Obi-wan and Yoda had. He had
hoped that it was because she was unprepared for such a demise, but
now saw he was mistaken. The Dark Side, in her last act of
aggression, now possessed her in full. Kayla Storm was perhaps his
greatest failure.
The Jedi listened at the strange silence that rang in his
ears. Such was the way of the Force.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to the air.
A new presence came upon him then, like an exact negative of
what he had just witnessed. It shone brightly and he closed his eyes
against the resplendent Light. Immediately he felt a peace that
reached to his very core, and a long-forgotten contentment. The
brilliancy softened and Luke opened his eyes to look upon an ageless
face with eyes of green fire.
"Who are you?" he asked, enamored.
The voice, too, was beyond the definitions of time. _Father_
"Chala." A gentle smile played across his lips. There had
been moments when he longed to hold this lost child, ached to cradle
her in his arms and hum some off-key lullaby. But the child was
found
only in the Force and not as she might have been had she experienced
life.
_Father, Kayla Storm has wronged us both. The time of your
destiny has come_
The image faded before he found the words to speak. Two
spirits seemingly detached from the whole? How was that possible?
Luke stifled a second shiver that was not completely from without and
brought his Jedi robe close about him for warmth. A chill evening,
indeed.
Behind him, a lithe figure stepped through the entry, her
gown
of exquisite silk whispering against her ankles as she approached,
along with that whisper the scent of mild perfume. Luke turned his
gaze from the city lights as his sister sat before him with grace,
her
hair wrapped in jewels, and he smiled.
"Leia, I think you'd better find Han, quickly."
Perhaps in any similar situation she should have blushed, or
retorted something a bit harsh, but Leia Organa Solo merely gave her
chin a regal lift. "Even with Alderaan destroyed, I'm still her
princess. If there is a time and a place for elegance and tact, now
is one of them. This isn't for Han." She permitted a small grin and
shrugged. "Besides, I'm a little tired of chasing around in battle
fatigues."
"It seems that time has passed," Luke replied softly.
"Thank the Force." The princess continued after pausing to
collect her thoughts, self-assured. "The New Republic is doing well
under Bel Iblis' administration and the Senate. I'm not nearly as
inundated with political philandering. Before, I was too busy to
think about anything--Alderaan, Han and the children, you. I've
slighted all of you in one way or another. I beg your pardon."
"Princess..." Luke muttered and shook his head. Perhaps she
had in her refusal to learn of the Force, but under the circumstances
of the New Republic, he could hardly lay any blame. The time was not
right. And he, it was discovered only later, was not prepared for
the
burden of a Jedi Master. Now he sensed a change for them both.
Her hands folded on the table but she did not fidget with her
rings, and gazed straight into her brother's eyes. "I've spent a
great deal of time thinking about where our lives may be headed in
the