by Alex Wheeler
Leia suspected that the pain written across his face had nothing to do with his wounded shoulder. "And your reason?" she asked softly.
"Reasons," he admitted. "Three of them. Or hundreds of thousands. Depending on how you count." He fell silent.
Leia waited, letting him go forward at his own pace.
He kept his eyes fixed over her shoulder, gazing intently at the wall of instrument panels behind her head. She took in the faded bruises on his arms and torso, the network of scars criss-crossing his weathered face. He was a few years younger than Han, but the darkness in his eyes made him appear much, much older.
"At first, I wanted only peace," he said, his voice barely audible. "Peaceful coexistence with the Empire. Preservation of our way of life. Have you ever been to Malano III?"
Leia shook her head. She knew it was a world just beyond the galactic core, but she had never been.
"It's a beautiful place," he said. "Trees everywhere. Even our cities were idylls of green, laced through with crystalline blue rivers. And we are a peaceful people." He frowned. "Were. We were peaceful. But that wasn't enough for the Empire. No, it wasn't enough that we obey quietly. They wanted our cities, they wanted our land. They wanted to turn our quiet planet into a home for their armies and their weapons installations. Cover the land with barracks and factories. Turn its citizens into workers. 'Work,' that was their term." His face twisted. "I called it what it was. Slavery."
"The Empire must have appreciated that," Leia said wryly.
"Not so much," he agreed. "Those of us who objected were driven out. We who had been peaceful objectors became saboteurs, sneaking into the city in the dead of night, setting explosives, struggling to regain control." He shook his head. "We were fools. I see that now. Insane to think the Empire could be deterred."
"It's never foolish to fight for what's right," Leia said fiercely.
"It's foolish to deny what you know to be the truth. And the truth is, we were few, we were weak. The Empire was strong. If they'd only punished us…" His throat choked off the words. Then he cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his tone was nearly expressionless. "Mirabel, that was our capital. They used thermal detonators to create a firestorm that consumed the whole city. Thousands upon thousands died. Everyone I'd ever cared about. Everyone I'd ever known. My wife…" He hung his head, and continued in a whisper. "My child."
"I'm sorry." They were such small, pathetic words. Nothing, in the face of what he'd lost.
And Leia understood loss.
"It was a long time ago," Elad said, his voice stony. Leia recognized that tone, that hardness. You had to block out the storm of emotions—forget the past—if you were going to go on. "I'm on my own now, hitting back at the Empire where and when I can. That's what I was doing when we crossed paths—I figured if I could get my hands on a TIE fighter, I could fly right into the heart of the Empire, really do some damage before they caught on."
"A single ship against the Imperial Fleet?" Leia asked in horror. "But that's—" Certain death.
He nodded. "I guess I owe you and your crew an apology. I'd been planning to force that Imperial into a crash landing on the moon—but I guess I chased him right into your path."
"So saving us ruined your plan?"
"Revenge can wait a little longer," Elad said. "To be honest, it's the only thing left keeping me going. When you've lost as much as I have…" He shook his head. "You wouldn't understand. I hope you'll never have to."
Leia rested a hand lightly on his. "I understand."
She needed only to say the word, and he would see.
Alderaan.
It filled her mind, every day, every minute. Their faces, their voices. The lush, green parks, filled with children on a summer's day. The sweet scent of t'iil, blossoming over a meadow. Her father's embrace.
Gone.
They lived inside of her, but she trapped them within. The pain was too fresh, too raw. It was too hard.
And yet suddenly, it seemed all too easy to let it out.
"Sometimes I fear the fight is all that keeps me going," she told him. "I draw breath, I eat, I move forward, only because I know the fight must continue. Maybe that's why I fight so hard. Because if I didn't have that—" Leia stopped. She'd never admitted that to anyone before. Maybe not even to herself.
And this was a stranger. What was she doing?
"If you didn't have that, you fear there'd be nothing left?" It didn't sound like a question.
Leia stood up abruptly. "I should let the others know you're awake," she said brusquely. "They've been concerned."
"I'm not going anywhere," Elad pointed out. "They can wait."
She was tempted to stay, to talk—and that decided for her. "Someone will be back to check on you soon," she told him, backing out of the small room. She needed to get away from this man—to stay away from him. He tempted her to trust too much, too easily, and that way led only to danger. "Lie back. Rest."
He followed orders, poorly disguising a sigh of relief as his head hit the pillow. "Thank you, Leia. For sitting with me. It seems I haven't had anyone to talk to—really talk to—in a long time. It felt surprisingly good."
"Sometimes you just need someone to listen to you," Leia said, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of his stare.
"Yes," he said, gazing so intently that she feared he could see right into her head. "Sometimes you do."
The severity of his injury had been unexpected, but it had worked to his advantage.
X-7 made everything work to his advantage; it was the only way he'd stayed alive for as long as he had.
The princess had bought the act completely, he could tell from the glassy sheen that fell across her eyes when he unspooled the lies about a dead wife and child. Soon she would open up to him, tell him whatever he needed to know.
X-7 regained his strength quickly, but feigned weakness over the course of the next two days. Hobbling around the ship gave him a chance to observe the crew. And certainly no one would expect the brave, wounded hero to pose a threat.
They'd put the weapons systems back online, and were now in a stable orbit around Muunilinst. X-7 suspected they were waiting to decide what to do with him before they made their next move. His next job was to convince them he could be trusted with the content of their Rebel mission—the first of many Rebel secrets he would possess.
He bided his time; he watched. Humans were sad creatures, he thought, so unaware of their own selves, their own weaknesses. Leia and the captain, Han, for example. They argued ceaselessly, oblivious of the energy that lay beneath the surface of their every encounter. Neither understood the unspoken bond they shared. But X-7 saw it, and this was knowledge he could exploit.
And the boy…now, there was an interesting case. When Luke had faced the reek with his lightsaber, X-7 had nearly given himself away with a gasp of surprise.
He'd heard of the Jedi, of course, but everyone knew they were long extinct.
Yet somehow the boy possessed the weapon of a Jedi, even fancied himself a Jedi, despite the fact that he could barely strike a blow without falling on his face. There was strength there, X-7 knew, but it was well hidden, buried so deep that Luke might never find it.
The boy was too innocent, too trusting, and this, too, was something that X-7 could use. While X-7 suspected Han Solo might be persuaded to sell his information for the right price, Luke might offer it up for free.
Either could easily prove to be the weak link he needed.
Yes, someone on this ship would lead him straight to the being who had destroyed the Death Star. It was only a matter of time.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"We have to decide now," Leia said. "We've waited long enough."
Luke sank into the copilot's chair, flinching at Chewbacca's growled warning. "I'm not trying to take your place," he assured the Wookiee. "I just need to sit down." He'd been doing calisthenics for the last couple hours. He wasn't sure if driving himself to the point of exhaustion was part of
being a Jedi Knight.
But if so, he was on the right track.
"I don't know what the problem is," Luke said. "Elad's regained his strength, and he'd be a real asset to the mission. I say we put down on Muunilinst tonight."
"And I say, we know very little about him," Leia pointed out. "We have no cause to trust him, much less involve him in Rebel business. Even if he wanted to be involved."
Elad was asleep on the other side of the ship, and they'd decided to take advantage of the moment to discuss how to proceed. Luke was tired of wasting time in orbit around Muunilinst. The Rebellion needed them to act, not sit around and endlessly debate.
"He obviously has no love for the Empire," Luke said. "He blasted that TIE right out of the sky." He looked curiously at Leia. "Maybe if you weren't always avoiding him, you'd see that he's on our side."
"I'm not avoiding him," she said hotly. "I just don't know that he can be trusted. After all, he is a civilian."
Han nodded—then scowled. "Hey, I'm a civilian!" he protested.
Leia favored him with a cool stare. "My point exactly."
"He doesn't have a ship," Luke pointed out. "We can't just dump him into space."
"We've been over this," Leia said. "We can drop him on Destrillion—it's not too far out of our way."
"Or we could bring him with us," Luke said. "If we run into trouble, we might be glad we did."
"Or we might be betrayed at the worst possible moment," Leia argued. "You heard General Dodonna, Luke. The Empire is searching for us—for you. This isn't the time to take chances."
She's always trying to protect me, Luke thought, frustrated. Why did no one seem to understand that he could protect himself? "Maybe this isn't the time to play it safe."
R2-D2 beeped and whistled.
"Yes, yes, Artoo, I'll tell them," C-3PO said irritably. "Princess Leia, Artoo says that he's run a remote scan of the Malano III computer system and has confirmed Tobin Elad's identity."
The R2 droid beeped again.
"Artoo says—" C-3PO turned to him in horror. "Did you say criminal?" the droid asked in a panicky voice. "Artoo reports that Tobin Elad is a wanted criminal—the Empire has a price on his head!" His golden arms fluttered in terror. "Princess Leia, I must agree with you on this issue. The man is clearly a danger to us all. Just imagine, Artoo—trapped in space with a criminal!"
"Threepio, according to the Empire, we're all criminals," Luke pointed out wearily. "Even you."
"Me?" C-3PO asked in indignation. "I beg to differ, Master Luke. Need I remind you, I am familiar with the law of the land, and never has a droid had deeper respect for—"
"Enough!" Han exploded. "We get it. The only thing we're in danger of around you is boring ourselves to death."
"Forgive him, Threepio," Leia said, glaring at Han. "The only language he speaks is brute." She turned to Luke, softening her tone. "Luke, I've heard that the Jedi were able to sense whether someone could be trusted or not. I know you're not trained…but can you give us anything to go on? Some kind of Jedi feeling?"
Han snorted. "You want to base a decision like this on some kooky mystical feeling?" he asked incredulously. "For all you know, 'Jedi feelings' were just indigestion."
"They were not!" Luke said hotly, fully aware that he knew almost as little about the Jedi as Han. "The Jedi could see a being's true self."
At least, that's how Ben had made it sound. Luke lightened his jaw. It didn't matter what the Jedi could do…Han was right. He couldn't do anything. And without Ben around to train him, that would never change.
"Luke has a connection to the Force," Leia said fiercely. "We've all seen it." She rested a hand on top of his. "Just think about it for a moment. Do you sense anything?"
Luke closed his eyes. He breathed in deeply, then let the air out slowly. He tried to connect to the galaxy. The Force is all around me, he reminded himself. I just have to reach for it and it will be there.
But he felt nothing.
When he opened his eyes, Han and Leia were staring at him—Leia's eyes filled with hope, Han's with barely concealed mockery. Luke couldn't stand to be laughed at yet again.
"I think we can trust him," he said finally. "We should take him to Muunilinst with us." Maybe his opinion wasn't informed by the Force. But so what? Ben had told him to trust his instincts. For the moment, instincts would have to be enough.
Leia looked thoughtful. "I suppose Elad did sacrifice himself to help us…"
"Give me a break, Princess," Han said in disgust. "You're buying this Jedi mumbo jumbo?"
"I'm just saying that maybe I was too hasty to distrust the man."
"Sure, now that—"
"Excuse me," Luke said, standing up. He knew their argument could continue indefinitely—and he suddenly felt the very strong need to be alone. He was grateful for his friends, but they couldn't understand what it was like, knowing a great power inside of him might remain hidden forever.
"Come on, Ben, where are you!" Luke exclaimed in frustration. He was sitting on the edge of his bunk, his eyes closed, intently trying to connect with Obi-Wan's spirit. The Jedi had spoken to him when he truly needed it. Surely it could happen again.
Unless that was just my imagination. Much as he tried to suppress the thought, it kept popping up.
Because if Obi-Wan Kenobi really had the power to speak from beyond the grave, why was he staying silent?
Maybe he decided I wasn't worthy of being a Jedi after all.
"Am I disturbing you?" Tobin Elad said from the doorway.
Luke opened his eyes. "No. I was just…doing nothing."
Elad stepped into the cramped cabin and looked around. "Are you alone in here? I thought I heard you talking to someone."
Luke flushed and shook his head. "No. I'm on my own. Come on in." He hadn't had much of a chance to talk to Elad one-on-one. This would be a good opportunity to investigate the man's motives. The Force might not be able to tell Luke whether to trust him, but that didn't mean Luke couldn't figure it out for himself.
Elad perched on a narrow counter and fixed Luke with a steady gaze. "So, have you all made your decision yet?"
"Our decision?"
"Whether to trust me." Elad smiled. "That's why we're flying around in circles, right?"
"Oh. I, uh…" Luke hesitated, unsure what to say.
Elad laughed softly. "It's okay—I wouldn't trust me either, if I were you. Trusting too quickly is a good way to get dead."
"So I've heard." Luke wondered if Han realized how much he and Elad had in common.
"So why aren't you up in the cockpit with the others, trying to decide my fate?"
Luke shrugged. "I had some things I needed to do."
"Lightsaber practice?" Elad asked.
Automatically, Luke's hand moved to the lightsaber hanging from his belt. It was strange how after such a short time, it had already come to feel a part of him.
"I've never met a Jedi before," Elad said. "It's quite an honor."
"I'm not a Jedi," Luke admitted. "Not yet." Maybe not ever.
"Well, you have the right weapon," Elad said. "That's a start."
"A lightsaber's not a weapon," Luke said, echoing what Ben had told him. "It's a tool, to focus the Force. That's what it really means to be a Jedi. You have to connect to the Force."
"And you don't?"
Luke ducked his head. "Not yet. Sometimes I'm afraid I never will." He'd never admitted this to Han or Leia, but somehow, it was easier to speak his concerns out loud to a stranger. "Ben—my teacher—I guess he saw something in me. He was so confident I would learn. But now he's gone. And sometimes I wonder…what if he was wrong?"
"You've never felt the Force?" Elad asked.
"Once," Luke admitted. "When it really counted. Everything rested on my shoulders, and I should have been terrified, but instead, I was just certain that I could do it. I knew it was our only chance and when I—" He cut himself off abruptly. What was he doing, talking about the Death Star with a
n outsider? He knew better—and this conversation was supposed to be about Elad. How had he ended up revealing so much about himself?
Elad looked at him curiously. "When you…" he prompted.
Luke shook his head. "It just felt good to save the day," he admitted. "I know I could be of much more use to the Rebellion if I could access my Jedi skills, but without Ben…"
Elad raised his eyebrows. "I don't know who this Ben was, but it seems to me that you don't need him to tell you how to become a Jedi. Not if he was right, and you've really got it inside of you."
"But how am I supposed to figure it out on my own?" Luke asked, feeling helpless.
"Kid, we've all got to figure it out on our own."
Luke hated it when Han called him "kid," but this was different. When Elad said it, he somehow managed to sound like he was treating Luke as an equal.
"Every person on this ship is alone in the galaxy," Elad continued. "The Empire has seen to that."
"We're not alone if we have each other," Luke argued.
"I don't know about you," Elad said, "but sometimes I feel most alone around other people." He paused, looking like he was trying to decide whether to say more. "It's hard, having no anchor to the past, no one guiding you to the future. I know. You've just got to accept it. Stop waiting for this Ben to tell you what you want to do—find a way to decide for yourself. Something tells me you will."
The confidence in his voice spilled over into Luke. For the first time in a long time, he began to hope that he might find his way to the Jedi path all on his own. He looked up at Elad in gratitude, realizing that even without the help of the Force, his instincts had been correct.
This man was on his side.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The gray, hulking Golan III defense platform seemed to cast a shadow across space as the Millennium Falcon sailed slowly past.
"You sure these landing codes will get us through?" Han asked again, casting a glance at the turbolaser protruding from the orbiting defense station. "Because if they don't, this mission of yours is over before it starts. Along with our lives."
