Heritage/Chapter 24

Luke watched as each member of his family slowly arrived in his and Mara’s apartment. Padme was the first, of course, since she had no other pressing business and lived with them anyways. Jacen was next, because he had been on the Falcon during the battle and didn’t need any debriefing. Anakin followed, and Jaina and Han arrived together soon afterwards.

None of them looked any better than Luke felt. Han stank of hard liquor, and Jaina was flushed with what he guessed was anger. Anakin was unusually reserved, and very pale. Jacen kept fiddling with the hilt of his lightsaber, and met no one’s eyes.

They all were this way for the same reason: Leia.

Luke had spent the evening in the infirmary with his twin, trying to dry her unstoppable tears. She was an emotional and physical wreck. Worst of all was the aura of darkness that clung to her like a second skin. She was fighting it, but losing slowly. He had seen the burns on her palms, and knew very well what they were from. Luke had been where she was, and knew the allure and the power that was trying to consume her. That is why he knew she was going to need the support of her family to get through it. They needed to hear her story.

Not that he really blamed them for their initial reaction. He had been hurt by the news, too; Han was his best friend, after all. Finding out that Leia was carrying the child of Cale Wilos, the Baci Premier, could not have been more devastating. Han had been destroyed by the revelation, reduced to an angry, weeping, drunk mess. He hadn’t wanted to hear Leia’s excuses, because in his mind nothing could make what she had done okay.

Jaina had reacted much the same way, only in her own typical fashion. She had thrown herself into the fixing up of Padme’s ship, refusing to talk to anyone, least of all Leia. Jacen had retreated into a meditative state, employing the Force as a source of comfort and guidance. Anakin had hit the training mat, working himself into a sweaty lather against anyone who would spar against him. None of them had wanted to hear what Leia had to say.

But they were going to, if Luke had anything to say about it.

“What is it, Uncle Luke? I’m kind of busy,” Jaina broke in first as she plopped down in a chair across from him. Blunt and to the point, just like Han.

They had taken a seat in the living room, in a rough imitation of a circle. Mara sat on the couch beside him, and Padme beside her. Padme was the only one who had yet to see Leia, at Luke’s insistence. Leia wasn’t ready for it.

Luke sat forward, elbows on his knees, fingertips pressed together thoughtfully. “I’ve spent the last couple hours in the infirmary, with Leia. And she’s a total and complete mess. She is such a strong woman I know it’s hard for us to imagine her like that, but it’s true. And I’ve talked to her until I’ve found out why.”

“I think we all know why,” Han drawled, feigning disinterest.

“No,” Luke spoke sharply, “you don’t. You don’t because none of you have taken the time to ask what happened while she was with the Baci.”

“We know what happened,” Jaina crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. “She shacked up with the Premier.”

Luke cut her off. “No, Jaina, she didn’t shack up with the Premier. She was raped by him, like an animal for breeding.”

There was dead silence. A small whimper from Padme cut through the thick air like a knife. She dropped her head into her hands and wept openly, horrified. Jaina looked deflated.

“Oh gods,” Anakin muttered, wiping his hand down his face. “Why didn’t she tell us?”

“She was ashamed,” Luke eyed them all in turn. “And you didn’t give her enough time.”

“She sees it as her fault, because she chose to stay when Han and Luke tried to rescue her at Clak’dor VII,” Mara added. “She’s so full of guilt and pain.”

Han collapsed on himself, leaning over his knees and locking his hands over his head. “Oh no. Oh no.”

“Why did she stay?” Jacen whispered. “I still don’t understand. If he was treating her like that, why didn’t she try to come home?”

“Why don’t you go ask her all this?” Luke offered, sitting back. He had made his point. “She can tell it a lot better than I can.”

“How can we ever make this better?” Han groaned, still hunched over in grief or shame, Luke didn’t know which. “I don’t understand how any of it can be fixed…she’s carrying another man’s baby. Am I supposed to go the rest of my life with a constant reminder of the Baci and what they did to us living in my house, calling my wife Mommy? And would she even forgive me for not listening, for not comforting her, somehow saving her?”

“You have to go talk to her, Han. She’s your wife, and you both still love each other. And she needs you so much right now. I can’t even begin to help her recuperate from her fall to the dark side until you two come to a resolution, whatever that may be.”

Han sat up, wiped his nose, and nodded. “I’ll go. Kids, you stay here for now. There’s some things your mother and I need to talk about alone.”



Leia couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, barely found the will to roll over every once and a while to a more comfortable position. Her worst nightmare had come true. She had lost them, all of them, her whole family. Luke still seemed to love her, but if Han and the kids could stop, who was to say Luke wouldn’t some day too? All she had left was the baby growing steadily inside her, despite her deteriorating state. And it was as much a torture as a blessing.

The longer she lay in the hospital bed, heart monitor beeping steadily, an IV feeding nutrients into her arm, the more the seed of hatred in her grew. She hated Cale. She hated him. Hardly a moment went by when she didn’t fantasize about how she could murder him, which way would be the slowest, the most painful. The desire for revenge was eating her from the inside out. Before long, there might be nothing left of her but loathing.

She thought about her father, her biological father. What had his last days as Anakin Skywalker been like? What had pushed him over the edge? Had it been anything like this? Sitting and seething and dying in ways that no one else knew. For the first time in her life, she felt a kinship with him. The poor man.

“Leia?” a voice she knew so well interrupted her morbid musings.

She rolled over to face her husband. Han stood just inside the curtain that partitioned her from the other patients; they had put it up after they had realized how much her crying was affecting the other wards. He was white as a sheet, but looked a little less angry than he had last time. But only just a little. He wore his white shirt and vest, and pants with the Corellian bloodstripes. He looked so handsome. The sight of him broke her heart all over again.

“Hi,” she managed, wiping at her face, trying to look at least a little presentable. Maybe she could hold it together, try to be coherent, long enough to explain away her transgressions.

He gestured to the small folding chair beside her bed. “Mind if I take a seat?”

She nodded her assent, and he pulled it up close, then turned it around to straddle it backwards, his arms folded across the back. “I talked to Luke.”

Leia said nothing. She didn’t know what Luke had told him, and until Han got whatever he had come to say off his chest she was going to remain mostly mum.

After a pause where she didn’t elaborate, he continued. “And well…I figured we needed to talk about this thing.”

She raised one eyebrow. “You mean about the baby?”

“Yeah. About that,” he squirmed. “And what happened with you and the Baci.” Leia nodded, and despite her best effort two big tears rolled down her cheeks. “Princess,” he began, “I just need to know something. This Premier guy…do you love him?”

Leia let out a huge breath, almost like she had been punched. “What?! No. Han, no. I…I hate him. All I think about is how I’m going to get out of here and find a way to make him suffer the way I have.” Her fists clench into two small stones.

“Then what happened?” There was such misery in him that Leia could barely stand it.

“I was hungry, and tired. He offered to let me have dinner with him. When I went to his room, he must have drugged the food. And then he used a Force technique on me, to make me think he was you,” she was trembling with rage. “I didn’t realize what was happening until I woke up the next morning.”

Her feelings were mirrored in Han’s eyes. He gripped the bed sheets like he was going to rip them to shreds. “Why?”

“So that he could have a child, an heir, with my Force powers,” she explained quietly.

He stood up suddenly, knocking the chair over. “Why did you stay with him, then? I came to rescue you! I could have saved you, Leia! Why did you choose him over me? Why would you do this to me? I love you!”

Leia looked at her hands as if they were foreign objects. “You came after me before I knew he was like this. I had a feeling in the Force; that if I could just stay, could convince him to stop the attack, I could save so many people. I thought…I thought that I could reason with him. But no one can. He is a barbarian.” She had the insatiable urge to break something.

“What am I supposed to do? Tell me what I’m supposed to do!” Han bellowed, gripping his head with both hands. “Am I supposed to forget this ever happened, to just live with you and another man’s child the rest of my life? Because you know what? Every time I look at it I’ll think about you having sex with him. And I can’t do that.”

They just stared at each other for a long moment. There was nothing she could say to counter that, because he was right. Cale’s baby would be a living wedge in their marriage.

Han started to cry too, something she had seen him do enough times to count on one hand. “But how can I live without you? I love you. You’re my world, Princess. And our kids...”

“If I could go back and change things, I would do it without a thought,” Leia whispered. “Yet this is the way it is. But none if it will ever change the fact that I love you, that you are my husband, and that I would spend every day for the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Then he said, “I wish you could, Leia. I wish you could.”



Wedge dropped into his assigned chair at the conference table with a grunt. He hated getting old, especially those aches and pains that came with it he never used to have. The other beings around the table were about the same age, mostly veterans of the first Rebellion. It felt like old times again. “Who we missing?” he prompted the gathering.

“The Skywalkers and Solos,” Tycho answered. “They’re with Leia. She’s still recovering.”

Everyone murmured their relief at having the former Chief of State back safely. She could greatly help the war effort with her knowledge of the enemy. “All right then. We’ll go ahead and get the ball rolling. I’ll fill Luke and Han in later. Ackbar, why don’t you start?”

The legendary admiral stood up and pressed the palms of his webbed hands together. “It appears that the enemy assault on Tatooine served two purposes: one evident, and one covert. Obviously, it was a last ditch attempt by the Premier, Cale Wilos, to recover Princess Leia. That aspect was thankfully a failure. Their main objective, however, was to serve as a diversion while the rest of their force conquered one of our more valuable worlds: Bilbringi. It fell into Baci hands a half standard hour after the attack on Tatooine ended.”

The whole room seemed to wince in unison. No one had seen that coming. “Question?” Gavin Darklighter raised his hand. “So was this attack here even a fair appraisal of their combat skills, or were they just messing with us while their real fleet captured Bibringi?”

“Since they really were trying to find Leia, I would say they made an honest effort. Corran, what do you think? Did you feel anything?” Wedge asked.

“It felt genuine,” Corran Horn agreed, stroking his goatee. “Plus, I can’t imagine the morale of any endeavor would be high if the pilots knew it was a ruse, and they were throwing themselves against someone for no reason. It would have been a better idea to let them think they were actually fighting for something, so it looked more convincing.”

“Good point,” Wedge nodded.

“The question is, what do we do about it now? We don’t have the resources to take on a fleet twice the size of the one we met today,” Ackbar interjected. “But we cannot let Bilbringi remain in Baci hands. It is much too close to Coruscant.”

Pash Cracken cleared his throat. “A plunge this far into the Core will make Contruum uncomfortable, as well. It might push my father into publicly endorsing the rebellion.”

Ackbar nodded his thanks. “I will contact Airen immediately, then. But as much as the help would be appreciated, I don’t think it is enough of an edge. We need something more.” He took a raspy breath. “I think it is time we formally speak with Jagged Fel and the Chiss entourage about those shield strippers…”



Zeya was up and at it by the time the assault on Bilbringi had ended, just as Cale had ordered. She was in pain, that he could sense, even without noticing the stiffness of her posture or the tense set of her jaw. But that was okay with Cale., It was her self-inflicted punishment for failure. She would learn to do better next time she met a Jedi in combat.

“What is our next move, Premier?” she questioned softly, her voice monotone. It was almost is if she was afraid to inhale too deeply. “We have taken this world with minimal casualties, and we faired very well at Tatooine. Where do we go from here?”

“We have to figure out these Jedi,” he sighed, stroking his chin as if there was a goatee there. He glanced at his crew as he did so. The men and women at work on the bridge of the Dintellion were keeping their heads down, ignoring the small tiff between their Premier and his second.

“They are more dangerous than I had assumed,” Zeya admitted. “I felt almost like she was my superior. Not in raw skill, but in the honing of that skill, and technique. They have refined the use of the Channel to and art form we will be hard pressed to match. Compared to the Jedi, we are nearly animalistic in its use. We have not evolved to their level.”

Cale took this criticism without offense, knowing she would never exaggerate for her own benefit. She had too much pride. “How do we get to that level? Or counter it?”

“Practice,” she shrugged and immediately regretted the movement. “You must build a lightsaber, and practice with me. You have enough of Leia’s memories to become a formidable opponent. And by practicing against you, I can elevate my own skills.”

He gestured to their inferiors. “And what about them? They will be the ones in closest contact with the Jedi.”

“Equip them with knowledge about the Jedi, and the way they attack. Knowledge is power,” she answered, eyes glittering.

“Fine. Build me a lightsaber then.”

Zeya looked at him over the end of her nose. “Cale, the weapon is supposed to be built by the wielder. It is a personal experience. You know this.”

He returned with a sharp look. “If you have forgotten, I am Premier of this Nation. I don’t have time for trivialities like this. Just do it.”

She bit her lip and glanced away. “Yes, Premier.”