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“Let’s try something,” he said. Luke let his eyes fall half closed, channeling his thoughts through the Force in a simple exercise. The small chit lifted from the palm of his hand and hung suspended in the air. “I’m going to hold this up,” he said. “You try to nudge it. Bump it toward me. That should be easier than actually lifting it. Open yourself to the Force and let it flow. Just a slight push.”

“I’ll try,” Callista said doubtfully—then caught herself as Luke replied.

“There is no try.”

She answered, “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have said that.” Callista squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. Her breathing grew shallow, her expression tighter, more compressed.

Luke sent out small, questing tendrils to see if he could detect her manipulating the Force. The blue disc hovered motionless in the air.

Callista’s face became flushed with the effort, and finally she let out a shuddering breath and opened her eyes, her forehead creased with frustration. “I can’t. There’s nothing.” Before Luke could speak, she held up a hand. “Please don’t lecture me. Not now. You don’t need to train me. I know how to do it—but I can’t.”

Luke squeezed her hand instead. “Don’t lose hope, Callista,” he said. “Please don’t lose hope.”

* * *

Later that evening, Luke sipped on a glass of primordial ice water distilled from the comet’s reservoirs. Beaded droplets clustered on the outside of the glass. He looked at the mist rising along the floors and breathed the damp air, filling his lungs and savoring the sensation. “This is so different from the place I grew up.”

Callista snuggled next to him in one of the oversized seats. “Tell me about it,” she said. “I want to know everything about you.”

Luke let bittersweet memories flow back to him. “I once said that if there was a bright center to the universe, Tatooine was the place it was farthest from.” He shook his head. “A dry, hot place—a hopeless place. Anybody born there was likely to die there, going nowhere. My Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were moisture farmers, hardworking, closed-minded people. They knew the truth about my father, told me lies, hoping against hope that I wouldn’t follow in his footsteps, that I wouldn’t want to pursue a dangerous and glorious life as a Jedi Knight. They wanted me to stay home where I would be safe … and completely uninvolved. They loved me deeply in their own way—but when you feel the calling of the Jedi, there’s no denying it.”

“I know,” Callista murmured, resting her head against his shoulder.

“When Obi-Wan Kenobi began to train me,” Luke said, “I didn’t know how I was going to tell Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru.” He swallowed and felt his expression harden. “I never had the chance, though. The Empire killed them and burned their farm before I could get back. They would have killed me, too, if I’d been there.”

Callista brushed his arm with her fingertips, radiating a quiet warmth.

“Now Biggs is dead too,” Luke said. “Biggs Dark-lighter, the only one of my friends who actually escaped Tatooine. He went to the Imperial academy for a while, then joined the Rebel Alliance. I met up with him again at our base on Yavin 4, though I didn’t get much chance to talk with him. Biggs was my wingman when we flew against the Death Star. He saved me, but he died in the battle.”

“Was he your only friend there?” Callista said.

Luke stuck his finger into the fountain, letting the cool water trickle down his hand. “I had two other close companions, Camie and Fixer. We used to hang out at Tosche Station and talk about our dreams and how we were going to get off that dustball. Camie’s family grew hydroponic gardens underground and bought water from my uncle. Uncle Owen always said we were just wasting time, but we were exercising our imagination, thinking of things we could do—even if we never would. It kept us from going insane on that hopeless planet.”

He sighed. “I wonder if Camie and Fixer are still there. My life seemed like it was going nowhere,” Luke whispered,