Twenty-six

As the dust settled from the air, the desert became a forest of tree ferns and giant club mosses. Where the spire had fallen, a hole in the haze opened into a blue liquid sky. It appeared watery and still, and Han felt as though he were looking up through the bottom of a lake. He could see a tall mountain rising along one shore, and every once in a while he thought he saw a face ripple past, as huge as a cloud.

Then the haze closed in again, and Han remained alone. He began to rush through the fungi forest, calling for his lost wife and his best friend, searching for the spot where they vanished—where they had no doubt sacrificed themselves to stop yet another evil from entering the galaxy.

And for what?

Luke and Leia had spent their entire lives fighting why? To defend a government that had turned its back on the Jedi Order? To bring peace to a galaxy that valued it too little and would never have it? Han shook his head.

No.

Luke and Leia had devoted their lives to one thing: fighting the power of the dark side. It was that simple. Wherever the dark side rose, whenever the Sith had dared show themselves—there Luke and Leia had rushed, never hesitating, never flinching. It had been their destiny to shepherd the galaxy into a new era of hope, and not once had they shrunk from that calling.

Now that destiny would pass to someone else.

Because Luke and Leia were gone. Han understood that. They had become one with the Force, and Han expected that he would be joining them soon.

He wasn’t sad or frightened, or even sorry. He just wanted to hold Leia’s hand one more time, to look into her brown eyes and see her smile again.

Then it occurred to Han that he might be dead already. Or dead again. Or still dead. In this place, it was hard to know.

He stopped walking and turned in a circle, searching for some sign of Leia or Luke—for some hint that he would not spend eternity without them.

He saw nothing but green fronds and ivory pillars streaked with brown, smelled nothing but the muskiness of the forest, heard nothing but the shadows whispering around him, offering to help, aching to devour him.

Han dropped to his knees. “Ah, Leia,” he said. “I wish I could have gone with you.”

Leia drifted in agony and ecstasy, nowhere and everywhere, an amorphous mass of self-awareness bound together by will and desire. She saw her body below, a whirling ball of golden radiance still tumbling across the desert, so hot that, in its wake, it left a trail of flaming thorn brush.

Her enemies—she could no longer recall their names—had disintegrated into smoke and ash. But her brother’s body stood about twenty meters from her own, still reeling and so bright she could barely look at him.

Leia could not recall his name, either. She knew she should remember, but she could feel herself dissolving into the Force, becoming one with it. And in this strange place, as she vanished, so did her past, and her treasured memories grew impossible to hold.

That frightened her. It shouldn’t have, she knew. Becoming one with the Force was the fate of every Jedi who served it. But she could not help feeling there was something she had left undone—something that should not be forgotten. Someone she could not abandon. Not yet.

But who?

She was finding it difficult to bind her own essence together, to recall even her own identity, let alone someone else’s.

Then a familiar voice spoke her name, and she remembered.

Han.

A sudden silence fell over the forest, and Han saw the shadows flee through the undergrowth. There was a golden radiance ahead, shining through fungi and ferns, changing them before his eyes into the neatly ordered trees of a Coruscanti strolling wood.

“Leia?” Han rose and started forward. “Leia?”

And then he saw her, a golden glowing figure running down the path with outstretched arms, so radiant and bright it hurt his eyes to look upon her. He met her halfway and swept her up into a flying hug. Leia kissed him hard on the lips, and he felt the Force flowing into him, filling him with warmth and life and joy.

They held the kiss for an instant, or perhaps it was a day, then Han set her feet on the ground and stepped back to look at her. She was Leia—but not as he had last seen her. She was the Leia of their youth, brown eyes shining with a fervor not yet tempered by the loss of her two sons and the deaths of more close friends than Han could bear to recall.

After a moment, the joy in Leia’s face changed to concern. “Han, what happened to you?” she asked. “Was it the carbon-freezing?”

“Carbon-freezing? What carbon-freezing?”

“You don’t remember?” Leia asked. “Vader laid a trap on Cloud City. He froze you in carbonite—”

“And you told me you loved me,” Han finished. “How could I forget?”

Leia’s only reply was a look of confusion.

“You remember that, right?” Han was getting worried. “You said it: I love you.”

“Of course I remember,” Leia said. “But that’s the last thing I remember … and now you look so old. I didn’t think carbon-freezing did that to people.”

Han would have laughed if he hadn’t been so frightened. “It’s not the carbon-freezing, sweetheart.”

He didn’t understand what had happened to Leia’s memory—to her—but there wasn’t much about this place that he did understand. He was just going to have to work with it and hope for the best.

“For a while,” Han continued, “I was a wall decoration hanging in Jabba’s palace. Then you rescued me. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.” A gleam of anger came to Leia’s eyes. “Jabba put me in that blasted slave outfit, and I strangled him with my own chain. And you knocked Boba Fett into the sarlacc pit. Is that right?”

Han grinned. “Right.”

“What happened after that?”

“Well, the emperor lured us into an ambush on Endor,” Han said, watching in delight as every word brought a new glimmer of recognition to her eyes. “But we turned that around, remember? In the end, it was Palpatine who died.”

“And there was a celebration,” Leia recalled. “With Ewoks—hundreds of them.”

“Right again,” Han said.

He went on to tell her about everything they had done together—founding the New Republic and defeating the remnants of the Empire for good, getting married and having babies, the decision to raise their children as Jedi. As he spoke, the young Leia of his past began to mature before his eyes, growing ever more beautiful but also wiser, and even more open and compassionate.

Then Han reached the era of the alien Yuuzhan Vong invasion of the galaxy. He paused, uncertain that he wanted to put Leia through the torment of those years again. But it was already too late. Her memories were flooding back without any prompting from him. He could only watch as the deaths of Chewbacca and Anakin etched her face with sorrow—and as the anguish of Jacen’s fall to the dark side stole the light from her eyes.

When the sadness did not fade, Han took her hand. “Before Jacen became Darth Caedus, he gave us a granddaughter,” he prompted. “Her name is—”

“Allana,” Leia finished. “She’s the heir to the Hapes Consortium, and she lives with her mother, Tenel Ka. But that feels almost like a dream to me.”

“Allana is real,” Han assured her. “And she’s a great kid. What else do you remember?”

Leia gave Han a wry smile, no doubt aware that he was trying to avoid lingering on the most painful parts of their shared life. “I remember the Lost Tribe of Sith and their invasion of Coruscant,” she said. “And I remember Jaina’s wedding.”

Han smiled. Leia was coming back to him—even if he wasn’t quite sure what that meant in this place. “What about now?” he asked. “Do you remember where we are? And how we got here?”

Leia’s eyes grew hard. “I remember, Han. Sarnus, the Blue Star, Base Prime,” she said. “I remember all of it.”

Han was relieved. “What about the Qrephs?”

“They’re the least of our problems,” Leia said. “They’re dead.”

Han wanted to believe her, but after seeing the Columi return before, he didn’t feel like taking chances. “You sure? Because they’ve been pretty hard to kill.”

Leia paused and seemed to shudder a bit but nodded. “I’m sure. The Qrephs are gone—just like I would have been, if you hadn’t called me back so quickly.”

Han frowned. “So quickly?” He didn’t understand. “Leia, you were gone so long I thought I had lost you for good.”

Leia looked confused. “Han, I didn’t go anywhere. I fought the Qrephs, then I came straight back, as soon as I heard you call.”

Han shook his head in bewilderment. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he said. “You were gone … and it felt like I was looking for you forever.”

Leia glanced around the strolling wood, her eyes widening as though she was seeing their surroundings for the first time. She took Han’s hand, and her voice grew somber.

“Han, am I dead?” she asked. “Are we dead?”

Han wasn’t sure how to answer.

For one thing, he didn’t know. And if it hadn’t occurred to Leia that she might be dead before now, he didn’t want to break the news in the wrong way. She might dissolve into the Force right there. Or she might vanish into … well, wherever she went last time and doom him to an eternity of searching.

“Han?” Leia’s voice had grown urgent. “I don’t like it when you spend that much time thinking. It’s dangerous.”

“Take it easy, will you?” Han scratched his head for a moment. “All I know is, you vanished in a big golden flash—at least that’s what I saw. It looked like someone set off a baradium bomb.”

Leia considered this, then said, “So we’re dead.”

“Maybe we’re dead,” Han corrected.

“Probably.” Leia glanced around the garden again, and Han hoped she might be thinking that it wasn’t such a bad place to spend eternity together. Instead, she asked, “What about Luke? Did he make it?”

No sooner had she spoken Luke’s name than a luminous sphere appeared in the strolling wood. As it approached them, it began to resolve into the shape of a man.

“I’m here,” Luke said, joining them.

Unlike Leia when she returned, he actually looked a little older than before the explosion, and perhaps a bit wiser and more at peace with himself. The wounds in his throat had closed, and Han saw no sign of the freakish eyes that had been inside the holes earlier. Recalling his own deformities, he glanced down and was relieved to discover that the membrane covering his belly wound looked almost like burned skin now, and his injured leg was no longer quite so hairy.

When neither Solo was quick to respond, Luke asked, “Is this a private party or something?”

“Sorry,” Han said, returning his gaze to Luke. “We were hoping you made it out of here, that’s all. Leia thinks we’re dead.”

Leia cocked her luminous brow. “And you don’t?”

Han shrugged, then shot her one of his best lopsided grins. “Hey, as long as we’re together—”

“We aren’t the ones who died,” Luke interrupted. “That was the Qrephs.”

Han waited for an explanation. When none came, he finally asked, “Says who?”

Luke smiled. “I do. When Leia and I destroyed the Qrephs’ bodies, we set their shadows adrift,” he said. “And without living bodies, the Qrephs can’t invite the shadows to return. Trust me, the galaxy is rid of Marvid and Craitheus Qreph—forever.”

“I can buy that,” Leia said. “But what makes you so sure we are still alive?”

Luke spread his hands. “To tell you the truth, I’m not a hundred percent certain,” he said. “But since we do have bodies, and Han seems to be returning to normal …”

“The odds are on our side,” Han agreed. He glanced around the garden, searching for some hint of an exit portal. “At least until we starve to death—or go crazy in here.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Luke said. “Follow me.”

Luke turned and started down the path. His bright figure drove the shadows deep into the woods as he passed.

Han looked over at Leia, then asked, “You think he actually has a clue where he’s going?”

Leia shrugged. “Who can say?” she asked. “But unless you have a plan—”

“Are you kidding?” Han asked. “My plan is, follow the Grand Master.”

Luke led them down a twisting path that seemed to turn back on itself repeatedly, crossing and recrossing identical intersections so many times that Han started to think they were lost. Still, the terrain did not change. The trees remained relatively small and neatly ordered, and the shadows continued to retreat ever deeper into the woods, until they no longer intruded at all.

After they had been walking for a while, Luke’s pace began to slow, and he spoke in a tone that sounded more melancholy than relieved. “We’re almost there.”

“Then don’t sound so glum about it,” Han said. “It’ll be good to get back.”

“It will be good to leave here,” Luke allowed. “But we can never go back, not truly.”

“No,” Leia agreed. She and Luke shared a knowing look, which vanished almost before Han caught it, then she added, “Not to the way things were.”

“Whoa … guys.” Han didn’t like the turn the conversation was taking. “This place didn’t change us that much.”

“But it did change us,” Luke said. “If only because it opened our eyes to something that’s been happening for a while now.”

“Opened our eyes to what?” Han demanded. “And if you say I’m getting old, someone’s going to get blasted.”

Leia smiled. “It’s not about age, Han.” Her eyes filled with joy and sadness and contentment, with longing and acceptance. “It’s about stepping back for a while.”

Han scowled. “Who needs to step back?”

“I do,” Leia said. She took his hand. “We do. We’ve spent a lifetime battling to make the galaxy a better place. But life is about more than fighting, Han. There needs to be time for rest and love and happiness.”

“Exactly,” Luke said. “Life is like the Force. It needs balance.”

“The Force needs us to take a rest?” Han scoffed. “That’s what you’re telling me?”

“More or less.” Luke paused and looked into the trees for a moment, then said, “Maybe there was a time we had to keep fighting because there were so few of us. But the Jedi Order is strong now, and we have to let others take the lead, so it can grow even stronger.”

Han hesitated. “Well, I guess I could use a break, as long as it’s good for the Order.” He actually liked the idea of some downtime with Leia, but it also scared him. He turned to face her. “What if we get bored?”

“We won’t.” Leia squeezed his hand, and the light in her eyes turned racy. “Trust me.”

Han responded with an enthusiastic smirk. “In that case,” he said, “count me in.”

“Hold on, you two,” Luke said, laughing. “Let me get us out of here first.”

Luke led them a few steps farther, then stopped in the middle of the trail and turned to Han.

“Ready?” he asked.

“You bet,” Han said. He looked around and saw nothing but more trees. “But, uh, ready for what?”

“To go back,” Luke said. “This is it.”

“The gate?” Leia asked.

“Exactly,” Luke said. “Can’t you feel it?”

Leia closed her eyes, then tipped her head back. “I can,” she said, smiling. “Lando is there, and Ben.”

“Where?” Han looked up and saw only a patch of gray sky through the canopy of neatly ordered trees. “I don’t see anything.”

“Don’t see, Han,” Luke said. “Feel.”

“I’ll try,” Han said. “But without the Force—”

“You don’t need the Force in here,” Luke said. “But there is no try, Han. There is only doing.”

Han rolled his eyes and muttered, “Easy for you Jedi to say.”

Still, he closed his eyes and began to focus on feeling the open sky. To his surprise, he experienced a sense of peace … which quickly blossomed into full-blown contentment.

He heard Lando’s voice somewhere above, asking, “Are you sure you felt your father reaching out for you? I don’t see anything.”

“Hey, Lando!” Han called. “Down here!”

He opened his eyes and saw that the terrain had shifted under their feet. Now they were standing in a small courtyard with black stone paving and a dry fountain in the center. About five meters above their heads, peering down from among the branches along the edge of the courtyard, was the smiling face of Lando Calrissian.

“Han, old buddy,” Lando called, “is that you?”

Ben’s face appeared beside Lando’s. “Dad?”

Luke stepped to Han’s side, opposite Leia, and grabbed Han’s arm. “It’s time,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Han said.

He took Leia’s hand and squeezed it tight, and together they all started forward. As they advanced, the fountain suddenly began to jet water, and the surrounding trees rustled in the wind. Han felt every cell in his body start to sizzle, then his stomach dropped as though he were riding the fastest turbolift in the galaxy, shooting up into the sky.

The next thing he knew, all three of them were back on Base Prime, walking across the stasis circle toward the balcony, where Lando and Ben stood at the railing, staring at them in openmouthed surprise.

Han exchanged relieved glances with Luke and Leia. “Man,” he said, pulling them over to the balcony. “That was a trip.”

Lando and Ben stooped down to reach beneath the railing and pull everyone to safety.

“Welcome back!” Lando cried. He wrapped one arm around Han and the other around Leia, crushing them in a perfect imitation of a Wookiee hug. “You two really had me worried this time.”

“Uh, thank you, Lando,” Leia said, trying—and failing—to extract herself from his hug. “We were a little worried ourselves.”

“Is everyone okay?” Lando finally let go and stepped back to inspect them. A concerned look came to his face, and he asked, “You do know you’re glowing, don’t you?”

Han looked down and saw that Lando was right. His skin was still shining with the same golden light that had permeated him inside the monolith. But at least his body looked right again—or close enough. His injured leg was completely normal, and the only sign of his belly wound was what looked like an old burn scar.

“Yeah, and glowing isn’t the half of it,” Han said. “Maybe we should head for the Falcon’s medbay and get the heck off this monolith.”

Han looked up to find Lando studying the scar on his stomach with an expression of bewilderment.

“Hey,” Han said. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

“Uh, sorry,” Lando said. “But that burn scar looks at least a year old, and you’ve only been gone a few hours. What the blazes happened in there?”

“Long story,” Leia said, taking him by the arm. “We’ll tell you all about it back on the Falcon.”

“Which can’t be soon enough for me,” Ben put in. “We’re done here. We’ve recovered all the data from this place that we’re ever going to get—though I don’t know how anyone will ever make sense of it. This stuff is way above my head.”

“We’ll worry about that later,” Luke said. “First I want to be sure nobody ever uses this base—or these labs—again.”

“The charges are already set,” Ben replied. “And we placed the thermal detonators in the gate. Once they go off, it will be impossible to tell there was ever anything here.”

“And we have quite a few concussion missiles left,” Lando added. “By the time we leave, the only thing left of Base Prime is going to be its heat signature.”

“Good,” Leia said. “But we can’t stop there. We also need to prevent anyone from using the monolith again.”

“You mean anyone like Vestara,” Ben said.

“I mean anyone,” Leia said. “Which means we have to stop them from finding it. Maybe we should save a few missiles and take out the repeater beacons inside the Bubble.”

Han cocked a brow. “The Bubble?”

“The Bubble of the Lost,” Leia explained. “I’ll explain more about it later, but it’s enough to say the Bubble is the reason the monolith is so hard to find.”

“Right, and the harder it is to navigate the blasted thing, the better,” Lando said. “Taking out the repeater beacons is a good idea. And Omad has some thoughts on an early-warning system we can deploy around the perimeter.”

Luke nodded his approval. “Good. We can talk about that on the way out.” He turned back to Ben. “Now, what’s the situation with our team? Everybody all right?”

“Affirmative,” Ben said. “We lost all but one of Lando’s battle droids, but Base Prime has been cleared and secured. Omad and Tahiri are both aboard the Falcon, taking care of Ohali—and keeping an eye on Dena Yus.”

“Dena is still alive?” Leia asked. “I didn’t think she was going to make it.”

“She found the formula for her enzymes.” Ben turned to Luke. “But I’m not so sure that’s a good thing. How do we handle someone who helped kill thirty thousand miners? She has to answer for that.”

Luke considered this a moment, then nodded. “She does, but what that means isn’t something to be decided right now.” He paused and looked around. “Not here. Why don’t you and Tahiri take her back to the Jedi Council? They can pass judgment.”

“What do you mean, they?” Ben asked. “Aren’t you coming back with us?”

Luke shook his head. “Not for a while.” He started across the balcony, motioning for the others to follow. “I need some time.”

“Time?” Ben’s voice grew worried. “For what?”

“For myself.” Luke paused and rested a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I’ve been leading the Jedi for forty years, son. I think it’s time for a change.”

Ben looked as if he thought his father had gone mad. “A change? What’s wrong?”

Luke laughed. “Ben, stop worrying. I’m fine.”

They’d reached the security ring. Han started to cross toward the hatch that led into the biot lab.

“Whoa!” Ben used the Force to pull Han’s hand away from the control. “You don’t want to open that. The automatic filtration and nourishment systems were destroyed during the assault, so it’s pretty ripe in there.”

Han thought of the dozens of biots he had seen inside the lab, and he didn’t know whether to feel relieved or sad. Mostly he was glad that the monsters who had created them would never have a chance to build another one.

“We’ll go through the residence,” Ben said, pointing toward a blown hatch about a quarter of the way around the security ring. “It smells a whole lot better.”

Ben led the group into a chromalloy corridor that Han had not traveled before. The bodies had all been cleared away, but the halls were so pocked and battle-scarred that it was a wonder the walls were still standing.

As they advanced up the passage, Ben fell in beside his father.

“So, Dad, if you’re not coming back, what do I tell the Masters about this place?” he asked. “Is it the Mortis Monolith?”

Luke shook his head. “The truth is, I don’t know. But if Mortis was ever here, I don’t think it is anymore,” he said. “The Force inside the monolith was too raw, and there was no hint of Balance.”

“Any sign of the Ones?” Ben asked. “Or that Anakin and Obi-Wan were there?”

Again, Luke shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “In fact, I don’t even think we should assume that this is the same monolith Anakin and Obi-Wan visited.”

Han frowned. “Come on,” he said. “How many monoliths can there be?”

“Who knows?” Luke asked. “The galaxy is a vast place. There could be dozens of monoliths, or thousands … or just the one. The point is, we have no way of knowing—and it really doesn’t matter, because Mortis isn’t here. At least, not now.”

“Fair enough,” Han said. “But if this isn’t Mortis, then what is it?”

Luke shrugged. “You saw what the Qrephs were using this place for,” he said. “After that, I’m not sure any mortal should know what this place is.”

“Nice dodge,” Leia said. “But the question remains, Luke. Do you know what it is?”

Luke met her gaze and smiled. “I’m still mortal, Leia,” he said. “The monolith didn’t change that.”