The night cycle on the Pillory had just ended, and the sudden jump out of the Hapes system to their new, undisclosed location had left most if the passengers a little lethargic. Especially, Luke mused, the ones who had been on Hapes until the early morning hours. Therefore, the two of them had the workroom all to themselves. It was a good thing. He doubted Jaina would want what he was about to say to be public.
The lights were dimmer than they would be in a few hours when companies of soldiers and pilots filed in for their routine workouts, but for now were kept low to conserve energy. The whole of the place—probably forty by fifty meters—was composed mostly of a random scattering of exercise equipment. There were lifting weights as well, with a wide range of sizes. The only truly empty chunk of space held a square, a foamplas mat for hand-to-hand combat training.
“So let me get this straight,” Luke Skywalker lifted his ice-blue eyes from his datapad and fixed them on his niece. Jaina levitated opposite him, mirroring his cross-legged pose, hands on knees. She was tense as a coiled spring, but kept it buried beneath the shell of calm the Jedi relaxation technique they had been practicing gave her. He found it hard to get a firm grasp on her swirling thoughts, but understood the anxiety sprung from many places inside her. Mara had been right to send him to train with her that morning. For all his wife’s many areas of mastery, being able to find peace in any situation wasn’t one of them. Mara gained strength from battling back her intense emotions, but it was never easy for her. So to try to teach Jaina a technique she herself wasn’t proficient in would have been folly. “You want me to commission you a fighter squadron?”
Jaina shifted ever so slightly above the blue training mat. Her back straightened a little more, her shoulders squared, and the muscles in her arms flexed tight, then released. “Yes, Master.” In this setting, teacher and padawan, the informal moniker of Uncle Luke would have been inappropriate.
“Why are you so anxious, Jaina?” he asked in truth. Mara was her formal master, but it certainly wasn’t the first time they had trained together, so it made no sense for her to be nervous.
“I’m worried about your reaction, Master,” she dipped her head, breaking eye contact.
“You want this.”
“Very much,” she admitted.
“I know you’ve studied the data about the old Order before Palpatine,” Luke studied her bent head. “Jedi weren’t allowed to have possessions or attachments of any kind. They couldn’t even marry. And now that we have Padmé, she is living proof of their reasoning. We naturally fear loss, Jaina. Yet fear is the greatest enemy of the Jedi. So how do we counter that?”
“By setting aside our emotions,” she answered quietly. Her Force aura buzzed with embarrassment at having to be chastised.
“There is no emotion, there is peace,” he quoted the Jedi Code solemnly. “And as you said, that doesn’t mean not feeling things. It means that we put aside our emotions for the sake of serving the Force and the galaxy. We have to train ourselves to let go of all we fear losing. Now, you said you wanted this squadron. You’re even frightened of me denying you. Why?”
“Being a pilot is what I love,” she said truthfully. “It’s what I’ve always wanted. I was hoping to integrate that with being a Jedi.”
“Now tell me what you just said,” he ordered, calm.
Jaina heaved a great sigh, having recognized her error a second too late. “I said I, Master.”
“That’s right. The only reasons you’ve given me are ones that benefit you. You’ve given me nothing about the Order, or duty, or the Force. The growth of a Jedi during his or her life is essentially tied into learning how to continually separate our own wants and needs from what has to be done, how to reach complete selflessness.” His words were stinging, shattering her on the inside, and Luke softened a little. “Jaina, you’ve done nothing really wrong. I’m not scolding you. I’m trying to be a good teacher by giving you what I’ve learned and what you’re going to need down the road. It’s a constant process with a goal none of us will ever truly reach, and you’re still very young.”
“Thank you, Master,” she sounded genuine enough.
“You’re welcome. Now, that said, I feel sincerely led by the Force to grant you this request,” the farmboy in him couldn’t help breaking into a smile at the end.
Jaina’s head snapped up like she’d been shot. “What?” Her eyes blinked rapidly at him, glazed and disbelieving.
“I think a position of leadership is just what you need to help you grow and mature,” he nodded at her, still grinning. “I’ve talked with Mara about this as well, as soon as I came across your application, and she agrees. You’re ready to move forward, Jaina.”
Her mouth worked in wonder, but no words came out for a breathless pause. At last she stammered, “I—I—thank you, Master.” Intense joy burst like a star through the Force, saturating the room. “I won’t let you down.”
“I hope you take this opportunity seriously, because it’s a very important matter,” he sobered. “You will be responsible for the lives of a dozen Jedi. You will have to make hard command decisions. This is a big step. Are you sure you’re ready to take it on?”
“I’m sure, Master,” she fairly beamed.
“I want you to start recruitment—and trials if necessary—immediately.”
“I will,” she promised.
Her smile was a kilometer wide. It was infectious, and Luke found himself hiding a pleased smirk. He leaned forward secretively. “And congratulations, Jaina.”
Her exuberance couldn’t be contained any more. She leaped across the space between them with an excited laugh and wrapped both arms around his neck. “Thank you, Uncle Luke!” She threw him mentally as well as physically off balance, and they both dropped four centimeters to the ground, which only increased the laughter.
“Well aren’t you two a chummy pair this morning?” a new voice echoed across the room. Both Jedi turned as one.
Leia Organa Solo stood at the door, her broken leg now fully healed. Though there was an irremovable sadness at the center of her heart, this morning she wore a pleasant smile and an indomitable air. She was clad in the fitted athletic pants and tank often favored by her sister-in-law, so very out of place on the former Chief of State. But the greatest outward difference was the change in hairstyle. Her long tresses had been cut at her insistence before being released from the MedCenter, and the shiny brown locks now hovered just above her shoulders. It was a symbolic change, a signal that she was moving on from the days of elegance and diplomacy to simple efficiency. Still she was beautiful, and in truth the cut took off a few years, at least to Luke’s eyes. The resemblance between she and Jaina had also been heightened.
“Mom!” Jaina scrambled to her feet and crossed the distance in seconds. “I’m getting my own squadron, a Jedi squadron!” She embraced Leia with the fierce delight of a child just given her heart’s desire.
Leia hugged her just as tightly. “No? Really?” Her brown gaze flicked to Luke for confirmation. “Is she ready for this?”
“Mara and I believe so,” he picked himself off the training mat and sauntered towards mother and daughter, hands clasped behind his back.
“Well then,” her lips parted in an honest smile, though there was still concern there, “I think congratulations are in order!”
“Thanks, Mom,” Jaina ignored any indication that her mother was less than happy.
“Leia,” Luke shifted gears, turning his focus on the older Solo woman, “you look well.” He touched her almost unconsciously through their twin bond, the equivalent of a reassuring squeeze on the hand.
She smiled at him. “Thank you. I feel much better. That last bacta dip did wonders.” She deliberately avoided mentioning the progress of her inner healing.
“Good. You’re here to begin training, I assume.”
Her stubborn gaze didn’t flinch under the unspoken question. Luke wasn’t sure she was ready, but she wasn’t about to let his reservations hold her back. “I am,” she patted the lightsaber handle swinging at her belt.
“All right. Why don’t we kill two mynocks with one blaster bolt, then,” he suggested, all the while pacing backwards to the edge of the mat. “You two can spar against each other.”
Jaina threw Leia a dubious look. “Really?”
Luke resisted a laugh. “Don’t underestimate her, Jaina. You have the training and discipline, but her raw potential surpasses yours.”
Though they both exuded reluctance, the Solo women took their places opposite each other on the mat. “Can I ask if there is a special point to this?” Leia asked, slapping her lightsaber hilt into her right palm, but leaving it dead.
“Yes.” He smiled in that inscrutable way of his.
“Just don’t even try, Mom,” Jaina rolled her eyes, then ignited her weapon. She took up a classic opening stance, single-handed low guard. “He’s in one of those ‘I’m a wise and mystical Jedi Master’ moods.”
“I hate those,” Leia sighed in perturbance, shifting her weight to the balls of both feet. Her lightsaber sprang to life, a blue flame in her hands. Luke watched her intently, assimilating the list of improvements he already saw she could make. Most importantly, he could sense her connection to the Force was tentative. She wasn’t actively seeking its guidance, whether out of fear or habit he didn’t know. Either way, she was never going to defeat Jaina—nearly a fully trained Jedi by all accounts—like that. But perhaps it would be better for her to learn that the hard way.
Jaina moved suddenly, quick as a Noghri assassin, her lightsaber swinging up from low right towards Leia’s hip. The move was parried, but Jaina was already coming in at her left side in a series of light, quick attacks. Leia managed to cover them all, but only barely.
Jaina finished the calculated assault with a wide, sweeping strike at eye-level. Leia’s saber lifted to deflect, pushing back at the coming attack. At the last moment Jaina collapsed onto her knees like a rock in heavy gravity. She extinguished her blade just in time, and the hilt swept by Leia’s unprotected abdomen in symbolic victory. “Point,” she said softly as she stood.
Leia looked stunned and frustrated. “Rodder,” she muttered tightly, and also killed her weapon.
“Leia,” Luke opened his hands, palms out, “you’re limiting yourself. You have to let go of your conscious self and surrender to the Force. It will guide and protect you, have faith in it.”
“I know,” she scratched her scalp, irritated. “It’s just…the last time I opened up, I did things I don’t care to remember,” her eyes trailed to Jaina, ashamed to admit such in front of her child.
“You’re the one that wanted to use the Force again,” Luke reminded her. “For reasons I don’t need to recap.”
“Okay,” she faced her daughter once again. “I’ll tr—” she caught herself, and a thin smile pulled at her mouth. “Don’t say it, I know. Do or do not. There is no try.”
“Then do,” Luke commanded. “And Jaina,” he gestured to his niece, “don’t hold back because she’s your mother, or because she’s had a rough time lately. If you want to help, make her stronger by making her realize how far she really has to come.”
“All right,” Jaina agreed, but didn’t look happy about it.
They confronted each other once again, this time both of them more hesitant. Luke watched with true interest, not at all sure how it would play out. Jaina’s technique was archetypal Mara—straightforward and brutal, simple and ferocious efficiency. Leia, on the other hand, was by and large untrained. But what instruction she did have had come from Luke’s sporadic teachings over the years. He had known she didn’t have the skill to take on an opponent in the traditional manner, and so had taught her small things that might save her in a pinch against someone underestimating her. In a nutshell, she fought sneaky. Underhanded even, which would no doubt surprise Jaina if Leia ever got the opportunity to use her incomplete knowledge.
Once again, Jaina struck out first. This time she pivoted her violet blade around her wrist as she brought it over her head, so it came down like a spear. Leia sidestepped to her right and whipped her own lightsaber in a two-handed grip towards Jaina’s back. The younger Jedi was much too quick for that, and just dropped and rolled forward. She came up in one easy and fluid motion, again facing her mother. Her feet were set like a fencer, lightsaber held in one hand over her head, pointed back. Her left hand she kept out slightly at her side, as if for balance.
Leia rotated her saber handle in her hands, feet apart and knees somewhat bent for balance. She took two small steps forward and swung low for Jaina’s knees. The two blades bounced off each other with a crackle, and then suddenly Leia was reeling backwards, Jaina’s booted foot having caught her squarely beneath the jaw. Leia let out and muffled oomfph and stumbled away, clutching her chin.
“Oh Force! Mom, I’m sorry!” Jaina dropped her lightsaber and ran forwards, arms extended to comfort her.
Luke saw the trap before Jaina—or maybe felt it, being so attuned with his sister—but couldn’t have warned her in time if he had wanted to. Jaina was almost atop her when Leia looked up, her brown eyes flashing with shrewd satisfaction. Jaina’s matching gaze widened, but it was too late. Leia lashed out suddenly and ferociously, cutting diagonally from hip to shoulder. Jaina blinked rapidly, completely mortified. “You tricked me. I thought you were hurt!”
“I was,” Leia rubbed her jaw, wincing. “But you left me an opening, and this is a sparring match,” she shrugged.
“Leia’s right,” Luke stepped out onto the mat with them. “You were treating her like your wounded mother instead of your wounded opponent. If this had been a real fight you could have killed her right then and there. Instead, you lowered your defense.” He looked to Leia while he said this and gently twisted her head to one side to inspect the damage. “Yeah. This is going to leave a mark.” His gaze cut briefly to Jaina, eyes twinkling. “Beauty of a kick, though.”
She was obviously still feeling a little dismayed. “Thanks, I guess.”
Luke continued to stare at the spot on his sister’s jaw where a purple bruise was already forming. He closed his eyes to slits and stretched out in the Force, then ran a thumb across the damaged skin. The healing energies rippled between them, and slowly Leia’s pain and soreness faded along with the discoloration. “All right,” he said when he opened his eyes and stepped back. “Try this again. This time—Leia, I want you to experiment with your grip a little. Try switching hands, or just using one. Watch Jaina’s form. She and Mara both favor a personalized, modern variation of Makashi, the old Form II. It’s easier for some females because it’s very effective, but requires you use less brute strength. You focus on fluidity and agility, and attack and defend in a way that’s less taxing. If that doesn’t feel right to you, I may have you try something simpler, or more defense-oriented.”
“Okay,” Leia took his advice in stride. She took up her weapon in her right hand and flicked it on, then fixed her oldest child with a deceptively sweet smile. “Ready, dear?”
Jaina’s lightsaber flew from across the room where she had dropped it to land squarely in her palm. “Always.”
Leia was already on the move, her face set in that determined mask she had often given unruly members of the Senate. She thrust her lightsaber straight forward at Jaina’s stomach, trying to skewer her like a wild beast. Jaina fell gracefully backwards onto the support of her hands, back arched and knees bent at a ninety degree angle, looking for all the world like one of those skittering crustaceans on beaches across the galaxy. The pose only lasted a heartbeat. She kicked up, one leg tucked to her chest and the other extended to full length as she rolled backwards. The extended leg caught Leia’s sword hand on the forearm, and by the time she had flipped over to land on the bent knee her mother’s weapon was skidding across the training mat. She called it to hand, and all of a sudden Leia was facing down the heated tips of both sabers. “Point,” she breathed, unable to keep the victorious grin from her face.
“Very good, Jaina,” Luke nodded to her.
“That was quicker than the first time,” Leia wiped the sweat off her brow. “Hardly a fight at all. I think I’m getting worse.”
“No, you’re not,” Luke reassured her. “You’re learning. This was good. It gave me a chance to examine you objectively, so now I can better help you find and exploit your strengths, and cover your weaknesses.”
“If you say so,” Leia still sounded disappointed.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Jaina wrapped a playful arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure by the time Uncle Luke’s done with you, you’re going to be able to wipe this gym with me. Mara’s always saying I don’t practice like I should,” she laughed a little at the end.
“Then you should step up your game,” Leia joked. “I’m a quick learner.”
- * *
Wedge Antilles was not a man that enjoyed games of war, though it might sometimes appear that way. Like any good commander, he relished the return of his pilots and a minimal loss of life, but other than that, there was no thrill of victory. Even though his successes were many, and all were lauded, Wedge would have much preferred a quiet life on Corellia with his beautiful wife and two daughters. In fact, before the whole Baci debacle, he had been on the cusp of retirement. The military life was a hard one, and he had paid his dues. So, as he sat serenely in his command chair on the Star Destroyer Pillory, Wedge made up his mind. This war would be his last, no matter the outcome.
The Pillory continued to roar through hyperspace to its secret rendezvous point. The whole thing took Wedge back to the days of the Rebellion. Those had been the good days, in spite of, or maybe because of, the mighty hill the small band of freedom fighters were required to climb to defeat the Empire. It had been uphill all the way, with little hope, but lots of camaraderie and a spirit of faith he hadn’t felt since. There had been no politics to muddle their path, either. It had been simple and straightforward, cut and dry.
In that, too, this war with the Baci was similar. The politicians had been put aside for better times, but deep down Wedge winced at the consequences of this. The ramifications of splitting the New Republic would be dramatic. The peoples of the galaxy would never trust Borsk Fey’lya and his Senate ever again. If they couldn’t even hold onto their own military, how could anyone expect them to meet the needs of the citizens? A whole new infrastructure would need to be built.
They would, of course, need Wedge’s help. But he remained staunch—even though all this was still contained in his mind—with his former resolution to retire at the end. It would be over for him. This was the last time he would save the galaxy. Let the younger generation step up and carry on where he had left off. He was through.
The wide blast doors leading into the bridge slid open behind him and light, feminine footsteps clicked across the deck in his direction. The feline grace in her stride was evident even without looking, and Wedge new who it was before her face ever came into his field of vision. He smiled tightly at that. Who needed the Force, anyway? “Hello, Mara.” He didn’t turn his head to look at her, but the thick head of red hair could be glimpsed out of the corner of his eye.
She kept her face ahead, at the wide viewport of the command deck. “Wedge.”
“Can I help you with something?”
“I need some ships,” she said it matter-of-factly, as if she had just asked him to pass the sugar for her caf. “Twelve of them. Preferably X-wings, but I’ll take what I can get.”
He did look at her then. The serious set of her mouth let him know that it was no joke. “For the Jedi, I’m guessing?”
“That’s right.” She nodded once, curt.
Wedge felt his brows push together in confusion. “Mind filling me in?”
She took a deep breath, and Wedge could tell it was going to be good. He steeled himself. “Luke has given Jaina permission to commission her own fighter squadron, with Jedi.”
A slow, disbelieving grin pulled the corners of his mouth. “Oh, this should be great. Does Han know? If not, I want to be there with a holorecorder when you break the news.”
She made a little noise that sounded half way between amused snort and consenting grunt. “He’ll get over it. She’s been flying with the Rogues anyways. This isn’t much of a leap from that.”
“Except it gives her a license to give in to all those genetically predisposed notions of heroism,” he laughed lightly. “Is she mature enough for this, Mara? She’s only what, sixteen?”
“Seventeen,” Mara corrected. “And I think she’s going to be fine. Now, what about those ships?”
“I’ll try to scrape some up from somewhere,” he rubbed his forehead wearily. “Maybe comm Bel Iblis and see if he can help.”
Mara cocked one crimson brow. “He’s still supplying us, hmm?”
“As much as he can,” Wedge nodded.
“Well, you might want to give Kardde a call, too,” she suggested. Then, as if suddenly struck with an idea, “Or Lando. Force, I just realized he hasn’t popped up in this mess yet. Usually he’s in the thick of it, trying to turn a profit.”
Wedge chuckled heartily at that. “I’ve been in contact with him, but he’s trying to recover from losing Bespin by investing in some scheme out on Sacorria with Tendra. He has been leaking us funding. Maybe I’ll pitch the idea to him.”
Mara shrugged. “I didn’t know he was still invested in Bespin when it fell.”
“I think he’s got fingers just about everywhere,” Wedge smiled tightly.
“So when can I expect the squadron to be delivered? Please say soon. Jaina’s going to be breathing down my neck til they get here,” she smiled, obviously proud of her apprentice despite the words.
Wedge did a quick estimation in his head. “Inside two weeks.”
“All right.” She turned to leave. “And thanks, Wedge.”
“No problem. Just try to keep the Solo scoundrel tendencies to a minimum, will you?”
She laughed merrily, and answered without turning as she strode away, “I can promise nothing.”