Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [76]
“Doesn’t it make you wonder how our mother dared it?”
Her anger flared faintly, startling him. “Oh,” she said lightly. “That reminds me, I’m supposed to deliver a message. I’ve seen Vader.”
“Vader?” Luke’s mind went blank. “You saw … Father? Anakin Skywalker? Vader doesn’t exist any more.”
“Have it your way, then. Anakin. But I saw him.”
A sense of loss wrenched him. Why had his father appeared to Leia, and not him? “What did he say?”
She stared past him over the complex’s edge. “I’m supposed to remind you that fear is of the dark side. He apologized to me, or tried to.”
Luke stared out over the city. “I only saw him once—just for a moment. He didn’t speak.”
“Well, I don’t claim any part of him, and I don’t want him popping in on me.”
Luke mulled over his father’s message. Fear is of the dark side. Gaeriel’s fear of him: It came from the dark side, too. “Hatred is also the dark side, Leia.”
“It’s not wrong to hate evil.”
“Did his, um, did anything he said, well, have anything to do with … ah.” He stumbled to a halt. “Oh. I interrupted something when I called this morning, didn’t I?”
Even by dim starlight, he saw her cheeks flush. “It’s been hard to find time alone,” she repeated.
“I’m sorry. But maybe Father accomplished something good, if he sent you to Han for comfort.”
“You can’t say that. When I saw him, looking normal like that, I … I realized that a normal person became … what he was. That I could, too.”
“For the good side,” he insisted. He brush-kissed her cheek. He’d loved her, long ago it seemed, before they learned what she refused to acknowledge. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Hold on!” She straightened. “You’re not sending me away.”
“Only for a while, Leia. Go to Han,” he murmured. “I’ll leave you alone.”
She stared into his eyes and took several breaths, plainly irritated. Finally she sprang up and hurried off.
Luke glanced down at the circles of the city and up at a passing repulsor bus’s lights, then clasped his hands in his lap and bent forward. “Father?” he whispered. The thought crossed his mind that he’d made his peace with Anakin. That would explain why he’d appeared to Leia instead.
He started one of Yoda’s meditations, concentrating his will deeper than himself. Personal troubles vanished in perspective, and the strength of the universe flowed through him. He had a sister; he wasn’t alone. Some day, as he grew in the Force, real love would unite him with someone else of his own kind. Every emotion of either partner, every ripple of pleasure or pain, would bounce back from the other, resonating until sweet echoes faded.
He opened his eyes and unclasped his hands. He hadn’t lost Gaeriel yet. He would help her as he could, and if she rejected him, he’d leave Bakura with only faint regrets.
Laughing unmatched eyes and swirling skirts danced in his mind. Who was he kidding?
And what was he doing up here alone? He stood up and walked to a drop shaft.
Dev stroked the sleek new entechment chair … or should he call this something else? Three dozen new chairs were under construction, to supplement the energy flow Skywalker would give them, but this one was special. More of an upright bed than a chair, a motor reclined it from zero to thirty degrees. Instead of a catchment arc it had in-built energy-attracting circuitry that would lie under Skywalker’s back. Larger restraints stood open along its sides and near its foot, and other medical attachments enhanced its obvious design for the long-term survival of an occupant (they’d tested those parts yesterday). All silver and black, it glistened under brilliant cabin lights. “It’s beautiful, Master Firwirrung.”
“I’m sorry, Dev,” Firwirrung sang low. “I know this will hurt your feelings—”
“I wish it were real, Master. But I know you need to test it. Let’s begin.”
Firwirrung nodded his huge V-crested head.
Dev had suggested most of the design features for initial installation and restraint. No catchment arc covered the bed, and it leaned back a few degrees from vertical. Cautiously he backed up to it. His