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| - Strike, parry, dance, jump— In midair Leia’s mind whirled in a hurricane of calculation and instinct, sliding over each action seconds before her body caught up. The Force felt like liquid nitrogen in her veins, so cold it burned. She could hear her heart in her ears and the thunder of her breath echoed inside the canyon of her skull. Some part of her, detached from the fight, knew that the effort she was expending was going to be felt in the morning, but right then that didn’t matter. She felt powerful, driven, ten feet tall and stronger than a Wookiee. She landed, the backwards flip over her brother’s head ending with a grunt that belied the energy of it. He wasn’t waiting so much as already spinning at her, the training lightsaber twisting around her so fast it appeared whip-like. Leia barely kept up, kept away. It was like no matter how fast she moved she would never get away from him. She found herself backpedaling, ducking and bending every which way, trying to get inside his guard. Her shoulders became burning coals ready to pop out of their sockets, and he was still coming. Panicked and out of options, Leia dropped and shoved, trying to knock her shoulder into his solar plexus. He sidestepped, she fell, and somehow he caught her left arm before she ever hit the floor. By the time she felt the breath leave her lungs in a rush he had her hand pinned to her back and a knee on the nape of her neck. She had no idea what had happened to her lightsaber. He held the position a heartbeat, just long enough for the failure to really sink in, then climbed off of her. Leia just lay there a minute, trying to catch her breath. Eventually she rolled over, and Luke was standing there patiently, arms crossed over his chest. “That was better,” he smiled, and she noted he wasn’t even breathing hard. “I really don’t like you sometimes,” she scowled, still panting furiously. His smile broadened, showing a row of white teeth. “There’s no reason to be upset about what just happened. You’re doing remarkably well in so short a time. You’re three times as good as you were a week and half ago.” She raised up on her elbows, contemplating this. “Could I beat Jaina?” This had become her point of reference for progress. Once she reached that line, maybe she could slow down a little. He actually considered it a minute, then said, “Probably not. But you’d sure give her a work out.” Leia cursed, she couldn’t help herself. Visibly upset, she rolled onto her knees and climbed to her feet, then marched across the room to retrieve her water bottle. Her hands shook as she put the spout to her mouth. It was like some demon nipping at her heels, pushing her to work harder. She had to be better, had to labor relentlessly. She didn’t even know why, the whole thing was supposed to be more about spiritual healing than war training, but the need was there. And the longer she trained and the more attuned she became to the whisperings of the Force, Leia wasn’t so sure it wasn’t a prompting of the future. Luke must have sensed the churning turmoil inside her, because he came softly forward and removed the water from her hands, then enfolded her in a hug. She didn’t pull away, but leaned into his chest, barely able to resist the urge to weep. “Tell me what’s bothering you,” he ordered after a minute. She wiped at her nose, even that small movement exhausting. “I feel this urgency to do better, be better, like I don’t have much time. It’s almost like a voice in my head, pushing me. I’ve just about convinced myself it’s the Force, Luke.” He pulled away from her a bit and looked down into her eyes. “And that scares you,” he stated. Sometimes he knew her too well. She nodded. “The last time I felt something like this was on the Dintellion, right before you and Han came to get me. I thought it was telling me to stay, that I had a purpose with the Baci…and look how that turned out. I don’t trust myself anymore, or the Force.” He let go of her and took a seat on the floor. Leia took that as her cue to do the same. Once they were both settled he continued, “I’m not going to presume to tell you what you feel. But I know that visions and nudges from the future are common in our bloodline. Many times I can seek the future through meditation, but the most intense visions I’ve had have come when I wasn’t expecting it. And I know from Padme that our father was prone to the same thing, and almost every time his dreams and predictions would come true. “You’ve been developing a stronger connection to the Force very rapidly, and that could produce sudden ‘growth spurts’, if you will. You’re going to be developing new skills and powers that I don’t teach you, Leia. Some of it, the sudden command of your mind and environment, might overwhelm you at first, but you’ll become accustomed to it quickly enough.” “Why? I don’t understand, how would that happen, and how do you know it’s going to?” Leia frowned, puzzled and a little frightened. “I know because it happened to me,” Luke chuckled softly. “I barely received any lightsaber training before I met Darth Vader on Cloud City, and still managed to come out alive. I defeated him six months later. The Force is incredibly strong in our family, Leia. You’ve surpassed my wildest expectations already, and I take very little credit for that as a master,” he laughed again. “It’s you, it’s your natural aptitude and propensity.” Leia blinked a couple of times, trying to register everything he was saying. After a moment of chewing on her lower lip in thought she said, “That still doesn’t tell me anything about this feeling I’m having.” “What I’m trying to say,” he took her right hand in his left, his real hand, the one still made of flesh and bone, “is that I’m going to be inclined to trust this inner voice of yours.” She found her lower lip quivering with emotion. “But it’s already betrayed me once.” “Maybe not,” his blue eyes were deadly serious. “We cannot presume to know the ultimate will of the Force.” Suddenly Leia was angry, flying to her feet and jerking her hand free of his. “How can you say that? How can you say that it was the will of the Force I be sexually abused by that monster?” “I didn’t say it was, Leia,” he remained still and calm. “I said I don’t know, and neither do you. It’s not implausible.” She was gritting her teeth with rage, the dark tide threatening to overwhelm her. There it was, the dark side beckoning to her, a sweet and dangerous forbidden fruit. She wavered, tilting on the edge of a knife blade. The heavy exercise equipment began to shake and tremble, clattering across the floor from the intensity of her emotions. “Don’t,” Luke’s voice rang through the room and penetrated her very being, tolling like a bell inside her. “Don’t you go there, Leia. Stay here, stay in the light.” It was a fight, a struggle taking place in the deepest parts of her. Leia grunted away the pain, shame, fear, and anger. She held tight to the mental hand Luke held out to her, and clawed her way back to the surface. She opened her eyes to see him right in front of her, standing less than an arm’s length away, palms splayed on either side of her head. A moment later his eyelids fluttered open, and a tiny smile tugged at his lips. “Good. I’m proud of you, you’re fighting it.” “It’s not easy,” she admitted, tears stinging her skin. “Now let me finish what I was saying,” he removed his hands from her face. “Our own father is the best example. He was the Chosen One, sent to bring balance to the Force. But in some ways, you could say the Force betrayed him and his destiny. He lost everything, suffered more greatly than you or I could ever imagine. But he fulfilled the prophecy in the end, both by creating me to bring him back to the light and by killing the Emperor. It wasn’t in the way anyone had assumed, but he did satisfy his destiny. I have faith that that was the will of the Force all along. Don’t you?” Leia nodded slowly, wiping at her tears. Yes, she believed Darth Vader had been Anakin’s pre-ordained fate, for whatever sick reason. “I do.” “And that definitely wasn’t the best for Anakin,” Luke stated, and there was really no argument with that. “But it was all in the plan, and turned out benefitting the galaxy as a whole. Who knows, if Anakin hadn’t married Padme, had us, and turned to the dark side Palpatine would have chosen another apprentice. And that apprentice might not have kept that essential spark of goodness alive in himself, and the Emperor could still be in control today.” “Suffer one for the good of many,” Leia felt a morbid sort of realization dawn on her. “You think that’s what’s happening with me?” Fear pounded in her heart, the same fear that had haunted her ever since she found out she shared Darth Vader’s genes. His fate would not be hers. “I don’t know,” he shrugged, the great Jedi Master as helpless in this as she was. “We just have to wait and see.”
* * * Jaina Solo had never been so nervous in the cockpit of a starfighter. She found herself continually drawing on the Force for calm, and thanked the stars for the quiet of hyperspace to gather her wits. It was her first real assignment with Vornskr Squadron, and she was absolutely terrified of something going wrong. Of course, it was made up of Jedi, but still… It was for that reason the Vornskrs were out of the simulators and into the cockpit so early, as well. Very little initial training had been required of them, since piloting is one of the subjects taught at the Academy. It had been more like a few days of refreshers, brush ups, and coming to terms with the order of command. The X-wings from Lando had come in sooner than they had anticipated, too, which had bumped up the estimated time til deployment considerably. All in all, Jaina felt like they were more than ready. But that didn’t keep her from worrying. There were just so many responsibilities and things that could go wrong. She had a whole new respect for people like Gavin Darklighter. The wait was appreciated in that it time gave Jaina time to think, as well. Inevitably, most of her thoughts revolved around Jag Fel. It had been almost two weeks since she had last seen him. He was still on Contruum helping supervise the final stages of the Chiss superweapon, and it was unlikely she would see him again until the end of the conflict, if then. Still, he had managed to squeeze in time to send her three messages. Each time she found a new one waiting for her was like receiving a wonderful little present. She missed him so bad it hurt, and only his sweet words alleviated her pain. Jaina didn’t know what she was going to do when she had to let him go for good. True to her protestations to Mara, she had tried everything to keep him and her own feelings at bay, but none of it had worked. She was falling in love with him, and there seemed no way to stop it. Part of her didn’t want to. The timer for the exit from hyperspace begin to chime. Ten seconds. Jaina heaved a deep breath. They had practiced this, they had nearly beat the drill to death. There was nothing else she could do. It was up to the Force. She pulled back the lever slowly, and the starlines quickened into pinpricks of light across her viewport. All around her the other pilots of her squadron appeared, formed up beautifully around her own fighter. She felt their bright presences flare in her mind first, and soon after the massive wash of Baci minds swept over her. Their numbers never failed to stagger. The Baci Fleet was spread in an arching line of defense around the ash planet of Clak’dor VII. She needed to move fast, pick a target and go in for the kill before they had time to get up a proper response. A lone frigate off to her starboard side caught her eye first. “Vornskyrs, we have our objective. Paragon Formation. Attack at position…” she rang off a string of coordinates. “Copy, Leader. Vornskr Three all green,” a string of similar affirmations flew at her over the headset. The minds around her slowly conformed into one mass intellect, and as one the Jedi squadron turned and looped back towards their target. They were in a diamond configuration, Jaina on point, with her two wingmates to the left and right fanning outwards like a chevron, then sweeping back into a point in the rear with Vornskr Twelve. She had chosen her old friend Lowbacca and a Twi’lek Jedi named Numa Rar to serve as Vornskr Two and Three, respectively. The frigate started to fire in anticipation of their attack, but through the Force Jaina ordered her squad to hold. With combined shielding, they could withstand the strikes long enough to get in closer and really make it count. On the edge of her vision Jaina could see the rest of the fleet turning to help their isolated comrades, pushing to the rescue. They were going to be too late. Red lances of energy continued to ping over her shields and shake her fighter. Shield strength was dropping, but they would hold. Jaina relied on the Force, waiting for a sign to move. Wait, it seemed to say. Just a few more seconds…just wait…fire! The thought flew through the collective mind of Vornskr squadron, and all at once a cloud of proton torpedos shot forward. They followed up with a shower of lasers. Jaina kept her thumb tight on the trigger, spraying back and forth across the enemy ship. Pockets opened up in its shields, and bright flowers of explosions gutted its side. Someone who was not Jaina—other than that she had no idea who—shot a warning through the battle meld. Finnies coming in, and coming in fast. “Head for your exit vectors, you have your clearance. Break and scatter on my mark.” Jaina ordered into her helmet comm. “Three, two, one, mark.” The Vornskrs pulled up and away from their target and separated into shield trios, all spiraling in different directions. Lowie and Numa stuck right with her, both of them feeling a little rattled but mostly exhilarated by the progression of things. They swooped and dived as a unit, dancing around the Baci attacks, all the while headed deeper into space. There was an opening ahead. Jaina glanced at her scopes. All her pilots had already made the jump to the rendezvous point but one last group, and even as she watched they disappeared into hyperspace. They each had different locations to meet at, just to confuse anyone tracking them. After that, it was one quick trip back to the fleet. “Two, Three, we jump in five.” Jaina watched the clock count down with an anxious eye, her aft shields taking a beating from the finnies. The timer hit five, and Jaina disappeared too. The strain of battle, even one so short, left Jaina’s muscles cramped with tension. She was soaked with sweat, and her hair refused to stay out of her eyes. Nonetheless, the smile of victory couldn’t be kept from her face. They had done it, and it wasn’t going to be the last time. She couldn’t wait to tell Jag.
* * * “They hit Clak’dor VII thirty minutes ago, the same time a different group destroyed a convoy between here and Bilbringi,” Zeya told Cale quietly, as if the soft tone of her voice could somehow override the significance of the events. He felt his fists ball into knots, and his anger welled up like a festering sore. “We have to stop this,” he muttered, tired of the cat and mouse game. He needed a strategy. “I agree,” she stood tall and erect across from his desk, and there was a confident air about her that had been missing lately. The spark in her eye was back, more sly and dangerous than ever. She had a plan. “What? What is it? Tell me,” he demanded, eager to know what his Second had come up with. Her plans were always brilliant, and never failed. And this one she seemed especially pleased with. “You should challenge Luke Skywalker to a duel,” she smiled at him, feral as a savage cat. Cale stared at her, feeling his sudden burst of hope fall flat. He couldn’t catch a break these days. “That’s ridiculous. What are you trying to do, get me killed?” “No, I’m trying to get him killed,” she explained, talking down to him like she would a child. Her superior air was starting to wear him thin. “Challenge him to a traditional Baci arena fight, on the Dintellion. Kill him and they will be demoralized and without hope. Their champion will be dead. Then we strike while the iron is hot. We trap them.” He narrowed his eyes, wondering if he had overestimated her his entire life, or if she had suddenly lost all sense. Either prospect was disconcerting. If the first, he was going to have to reevaluate his own judgments. If the latter, he was going to be forced to quietly dispose of her. “Zeya, I cannot kill him. And besides, I have nothing to induce him into such a match. There’s no way he would come.” “We offer a cease fire,” she grinned. “Believe me, he’ll come.” “And then what? I die a shameful death in front of all my people?” An idea jogged his brain. “Or do you mean to kill him as soon as he arrives, with no duel?’ “No, I mean for you to fight,” she clarified. “Why?” “So they will be disheartened instead of sparked to indignant rage,” Zeya continued, and he was starting to get the feeling her answers were rehearsed, like she had anticipated him. “But I can’t win,” he shook his head. “Even if I was as powerful as he is, I can’t use that lightsaber worth a damn.” “We’ll train,” she promised. “And who said you were going to fight fair? You know I would never let him kill you. If it came to that, I would step in.” Cale gave her an appraising once over. Though he would never admit it out loud, her connection to the Channel had always been a bit stronger than his. And there was no question she was the better combatant. Maybe, together, they could take Skywalker. But it still seemed a little too risky for his tastes. He much preferred the danger to be more remote. Zeya seemed to read his mind, and who knows, maybe she was. “We’ll be in an arena full of your people, Cale. With your guards and loyal soldiers all around. Nothing could possibly touch you.” “Why does it have to be me?” he crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, even though she was starting to win him over to the idea. It would make him the hero, after all, and he could use a little positive publicity. “Because it would seem more legitimate than, say, if I challenged him. Who am I? No one. But you…you are the Premier! And therefore capable of making those cease fire arrangements, as well.” She had an air of triumph about her, like she knew she had won him over before she had ever started. Cale ran it through his mind for a few long moments. Then, at last, he said, “Make the necessary arrangements.” Her face bloomed. “I’ll write your challenge to Skywalker myself, Premier.” “Good.” Cale imagined himself victorious, standing over the body of his enemy’s lauded hero of heroes, Jedi Grand Master, with all his people there to witness. He would be the conqueror! Maybe Zeya hadn’t lost her touch after all.
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