Luke sat up on the bed in the medcenter, flexing his new right hand.
There was still some itching where it was attached, but the med droid assured
him that would fade in the next week.

Kenobi!  He spat the name.  The old man had taken his
father's health, his mother's love, his family life,
and now his hand.  And Han and Leia had chosen him!
That hurt most of all.

He calmed and stared at the grey on grey of the hyperspace limbo,
slowly trying to center himself.  The pain would become hate.
He willed it so.  The betrayal would become anger.  He willed it so.
They would pay.  He willed it so.  He willed it so.

He could feel Leia along the bond.  Ironically, she was
asleep and dreaming of him.  She missed him.  He felt along
the bond and touched her ever so slightly.

//Dear Leia, you left me.//

In her dream, she turned and saw him there.  She reached to him.
"I didn't mean to.  They didn't tell me."

//They stole you?//

"Yes, my love."

//Who?  Who stole you from me?//

"Han and the other one.  Darknight or something."

//Biggs Darklighter?//

"Yes.  Luke, don't go!  I--"

She tossed and he left her dream as she slipped out of REM.
He knew everything he needed to now.  The tracking device was
in place on the freighter.  The Death Star would hold the
Rebel base hostage until they delivered Leia and Han and
his treacherous best friend and the old wizard.  Once
those four were aboard, they would destroy the
Rebels once and for all.  Leia would come to him
completely in the Darkness, and the
three men would beg for death before he
was finished.  A very unpleasant smile
crossed his face as he began planning what to
do to his former aide.

***

"Princess, you're alive.  We heard about Alderaan and feared
the worst."

"No time for that now, General."  She brushed him aside brusquely.
"I have the tacticals for the Death Star.  Get our best
techs on it.  General Kenobi may be helpful in the command
center.  We were tracked here."

The Rebel Base exploded into action.  Han watched as people
rushed here and there, doing this and that.

"What of your pilot, Your Highness?" asked a young man in a flight suit.

"Guest quarters so he can clean up and eat."
Leia strode off with a stride too long for her
tiny legs.  "See to it."

"I'm Wedge.  I'll take you to your room."

"Thanks," Han responded, following the young man,
watching the princess as she vanished.  Biggs had
gone to report to the flight commander as soon as they landed.

"You helped rescue her, huh?  Wish she'd look at me
like she just looked at you."

"Shoulda seen the way she looked at me yesterday,"
Han mumbled.

"Your rooms, sir."

As Wedge left, Han realized the
rumor that the Princess was sweet on him would be
common property before the briefing.  When would
he learn to keep his mouth shut?
Not in this life, he decided.

A real water bath, and a decadently soft bed
greeted him in the small guest quarters.
He soaked at length in the hot water,
trying to ease some of the stiff ache out of his body.
The med-droid had repaired his broken ankle without
a trace last week, but it was still talking to
him in Yavin 4's dampness.

Dressed, he decided to go to briefing after a nap.
The bed beckoned, and he stretched out.
After a few minutes of tossing, he began to
wonder why.  Then it occurred to him: he was alone.
He hadn't slept alone since the arrest, barring
those nights in the detention block.  Not
that he'd slept there under the bright glare of
the lights.  He lay, looking at the ancient ceiling,
and thought about his Luke.

Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to free
the beautiful young man from the icy hold of the
Sith Lord.  But the last words had not been encouraging
and he suspected his flagging libido was doing some dreaming
it hadn't informed his mind about.  He wondered
if he could market the Dark Side of the Force
as the lust-suppressant the moralists were
always looking to apply to Corellians.  He
half-chuckled at that one.

Sleep wouldn't come.  A parade of faces
played across his mind, Luke, Leia, Chewbacca.
Older acquaintances made guest appearances
in unlikely places.  The buzzing of a General Quarters
alarm woke him.

"All pilots to the briefing, please.  All pilots
to the briefing."

Han went anyway.

"Your approach won't be easy, you must maneuver
straight down this trench," the bearded man was saying.

All the rebels in their flight suits listened like their
lives depended on it.  Actually, they probably did.

"Green and Yellow wing will make the first runs.
Then Blue, then Red."

"And after that?" Wedge asked.

"There won't be any 'after that.'  Man your ships.
May the Force be with you."

After what he had seen on the Death Star, Han wanted nothing
to do with any Force, but took the general's
departing blessing as it was intended.

"Incoming message from Imperial cruiser."

"This is Professor Jan Dodonna of the Massiassi
Xenoarchaological Project.  How can we help you,
Imperial craft?"

The voice of Lord Vengar filled the temple on the
com system.  "Return the Princess, and Captain Solo to
me along with those who took them.  Do this, and we shall
leave you in peace.  If they are not aboard my vessel
in fifteen minutes, we shall leave you in the same state
as Alderaan.  What is mine, I do not relinquish for
anyone.  Lord Vengar out."

"Scramble!  Scramble!  Battle Stations!" blared the loud-speaker.

Green and Yellow, already in their y-wings, began to take off.
Han sprinted for the Falcon.  Biggs caught him at the foot of the ramp.

"You'll be up there with us?"

"My fight too.  My friend and life are at stake here."

"We could use a good pilot like you in
an x-wing."

"Uh-uh!  I've done my time in those suicide sleds.
X-wings and I don't get along.  It's the R2 units.
The Falcon's as fast as any you've got, and better armed.
I need a co-pilot.  You want to show some Imps
what they don't teach at the Academy?"

"No, but I heard the Princess say she had a perfect
co-pilot."

"General, are you sure you won't reconsider?" Leia asked
as they approached the Falcon.

"Dear child, I'm no use here on the ground.  I'd
be an old fool under everyone's feet and in everyone's
way."

"Han, your new co-pilot."

"You're kidding me, right?"  The words fell out of his mouth as
he gawked at the old man.

"I've flown most sorts of ships, Captain.  Your freighter
shouldn't be hard.  We are approaching the young man's
deadline.  Shall we get aboard?"

The oldster looked small in Chewie's seat, and
Han futilely wished for the comforting bulk of the Wookiee.

"They keep calling you General.  How'd you get them
to let you off the ground?"

"The Force can be very persuasive.
And the last of the Jedi Knights didn't do too badly either."

"One thing, old man, we'll be just fine as long as I
don't have to hear about your Force.  I know
all about what it can do."

"Yes, you still carry the taint of the Dark he used on you.
It will pass.  Is that light supposed to be flashing
blue?"

Han thumped it, and it resumed its normal steady gleam.
"Nope.  Coming up on the fleet.
We aren't going down the trench, but I can
provide covering fire for the ones
that do.  Can you fly this alone?
I'm taking the top turret."

They listened as Green and Yellow runs failed.
Kenobi was a pretty fair pilot.  Solo wouldn't
stake him for a Kessel Run anytime soon, but
a cool head, a keen eye, and a knack for holding steady
at the right second were exactly what the battle needed.

The TIEs exploded like firecrackers outside.  The Empire
was still too cheap to shield the things.  Han caught
a glimpse of something odd, and called over the com link
"Bank left."  Kenobi obliged.

It was a modified TIE interceptor, the ion panels
flexed in, and a shield and hyperdrive as well.
The two wingmen stayed in close formation.

"We've got serious company, old man."

No answer came over the headset.  Cursing, Han
bolted out of the gunner's turret and
took the rungs as fast as he could.
The old man was slumped in the co pilot's chair
semi conscious, yet giving the sense of being
locked in a titanic struggle.

"Damn wizards," Han muttered, setting the quad lasers
to remote and taking them over.  He flew into
the midst of things, determined to blow
Vengar out of the sky.  Luke was long dead,
swallowed by the darkness, and it seemed right
to avenge him by killing what destroyed him.
It was what Chewie would do if he were here.

*Let me get this job done, old pal, and I'll
be coming for you.*

Below him, he heard Biggs start his run in the trench
with Wedge and Porkins covering him.  He skimmed along the top,
staying back, keeping an eye open for the TIEs.

"They're coming in, Red 3," he called as
the modified one and its wingmen swooped down.
A quick burst from the bellygun knocked one
of the wingmen into vapor.

Beside him, the old man's breathing stopped.
He was too busy trying to target one of the
two remaining hostiles to notice.

"I can't stay with you.  Major malfunction."

"Get clear, Wedge.  You can't do anymore good back there."

"Sorry."  The x-wing pulled up and limped out of the trench as
Han skimmed in for another run at the TIEs.

The wingman was in his sights and Han caught him in one panel,
sending him spinning into the leader.  The leader was knocked
clear and out of control.  The Falcon's targeting computer logged the
prototype's signature before it was out of range.

"Darklighter, you're all clear.  Blow this thing and we can all
go home!"

Biggs watched the numbers run down on his targeting computer,
took careful aim.  "Torpedoes away."

"A direct hit," repeated the computer on the rebel base.

Biggs went light-headed as he pulled up.  The human body
really wasn't designed for more than 5 standard gravs, he thought.

Three x-wings and a few other remnants followed the battered freighter back to
Yavin's moon.  They sat down in the temple-hanger, and the joyous crowd
rioted around them.  The ramp of the Falcon went down slowly, but
Han did not dash to join the celebration.

He came down the ramp slowly, carrying the still body of the Jedi knight.
Silence fell over the hanger.  Someone came up with a stretcher
and four others fell in as an honor guard.

"He went into some kind of battle with Lord Vengar," Han explained,
haltingly, not really having the words for what happened.
"And he quit breathing during the last bombing run.
That's all I know."

"He distracted our enemy, and lost his life.
We will cremate him as the Jedi always did," announced
Dodonna to the mass of people.

The old man's body was carried out of the
hanger with great ceremony.

That night, the dignitaries of the Rebellion
watched as Obi-wan Kenobi, last of the Jedi,
was consigned to the flames.  The sparks
rose to blend with the stars that were just emerging.

Han shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable with
his status as a hero of the Rebellion.  He watched the
funeral, and slipped away early.

Leia found him at the foot of the Falcon's ramp,
waiting.  "You're leaving us."

"I have to, Princess.  He's out there.  Lord Vengar
doesn't give up what is his.  And we are his, both
of us.  I have a co-pilot waiting for me on Kashyyk.  If you ever
need a safe haven, go there.  On the eastern continent,
make contact with Malla, the mate of Chewbacca.  Tell her you are the mate
of her mate's life-oath-friend.  The Wookiee word
sounds better."

"I'm not your mate!"

"You know that, and I know that.  Malla doesn't
have to.  I've bought your safety in many less
pleasant ways."

"Someday, you'll have to tell me exactly what I owe you."

"Leia, you don't want to know."  The haunted look
was back in his eyes.

"Will you search for him?"

"The Sith holds my Luke hostage just like
he held us aboard the battle-station.  I will find
them, and I will bring Luke back and Lord Vengar will
die."

Biggs came to join them.
"Clear skies, Solo.  And good luck."

"Take care of her until I get back."

With that, he strode into his ship
and began laying a course for Kashyyk.

***

Epilogue

The crippled TIE sat down on
the outskirts of the small village.

The young man in black shed his breath mask and
staggered from the ship.  He had the emergency
kit and made it to the trees before the
ship exploded.

Damaged physcially from the crash and mentally from
the Force battle, Luke Skywalker, Darth Vengar, lay
unknowing as night fell and the small creatures
sniffed around him.

"Pull over, Skelm."  The repulsor truck
cruised to a halt near him.

"Live one.  Bet he came in the ship we saw burnin'.
He'll clean up nicely."  Skelm wiped some of
the blood away.  "Pretty.  Lady Varla likes them
pretty."

"Think anyone will come lookin' for him?"

"Nah.  Load him in."

The grass-fire from the TIE burned itself out in
the darkness.

*end*
 

There will be a sequel after the new year...
Lady Angel