• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By then A’baht was approaching Luke. “Comm shack has some messages for you, Luke—a couple of priority flags that came in this morning—” he began.

“Luke Skywalker.”

Looking up at Wialu’s voice, he found her standing at the inner airlock. “Yes?”

“There is one small service I ask of you.”

Luke cocked his head. “What’s that?”

“Tell your sister,” Wialu said, “that when she is ready to follow her own path, she would be welcome among us.” Then she turned away, needing no reply and inviting no questions.

By the time a startled Luke could find his voice again, Star Morning was moving away from the dock, continuing its journey.

There was no message from Leia.

The chief librarian’s office on Obroa-skai advised him that his pending request for a contract researcher had moved up to number five on the waiting list, and he should be certain he had the research subject FALLANASSI clearly defined and all supporting materials ready to transmit.

The senior rehab therapist on board the medical frigate High Haven passed on the word that Han was being transferred again, this time back to the Fleet hospital on Coruscant.

“It’s not that he’s in any danger—he’s doing pretty well, better than a lot of the folks in here now. And it opens a space up on our ward, which we can use,” said the therapist. “Given that the commodore had his own transportation available, it seemed like the best course.” After a pause and a frown, he added, “Besides, the Wookiees insisted.”

The third message was from Streen, who had compiled an overly conscientious report on activity at the academy on Yavin 4. In his present mood, Luke found none of it of enough interest to read closely.

The final message was from Alpha Blue.

“Hello, Luke,” said Admiral Drayson. “Now that things are a little quieter where you are, I wanted to tell you that I’ve located your missing droids. You can have them back whenever you want, in fact. But, as you’ll see, I’m afraid you’re going to need to pick them up yourself.”

“Are you sure about this?” asked the senior crew chief, following at Luke’s heels as he carried out his preflight check of the exterior of Mud Sloth. “Even with the losses, I’m sure Captain Morano would be more than willing to put you in most anything else we have—”

“I’m sure,” Luke said, ducking under the tail plane.

“I mean, after all, you Jedi swung the fight our way, driving off all those Star Destroyers with your phantom fleet,” the chief persisted. “It just doesn’t seem right to send you away in a low-budget—”

“That isn’t what happened,” Luke said as he reached the boarding ladder. “And this ship serves my needs right now.”

The chief scratched his head. “Well, if you say so.” He stole a glance back over his shoulder. “I guess the general’ll be down to see you off, eh?”

“He doesn’t know I’m leaving,” Luke said, throwing his bag up through the open access hatch. “I’d appreciate it if you weren’t in a hurry to tell him.”

“That’s a bit of a problem,” the chief said, frowning. “Nothing’s supposed to leave the flight deck without authorization from the hot room.”

“Not my problem,” Luke said, climbing the ladder. “Civilian pilot, civilian ship. Shouldn’t even be here. Clear me through the patrol screen, will you? She’s not real strong on flash breaks or roll-and-run.”

“Sure,” said the chief dubiously. “Sure, for you, I can do that. But, look, I have to at least be able to tell the booth where you’re going—you know, for the log.”

“You’ve never heard of it,” Luke said as he reached for the hatch closure. “Just log me out, Chief—and thank the gang for prepping her so quickly.”

Not long after, Luke and Mud Sloth plunged into the welcome solitude of hyperspace for the long jump to Maltha Obex.

By the end of that journey, Luke could feel himself changing. The ship was like a tiny chrysalis, and it was his metamorphosis that was underway.

He had wanted time where he and Akanah had spent so much time. He had wanted to hear the echoes of their conversations, feel the residue of the emotions. Luke spent the journey in silence,