This isn't exactly Tosche Station, huh?

After the third recitation of Threepio's history of the Alliance, Luke had to get some air.

He slipped out and stared down towards the forest bottom a hundred feet below them, trying to screw up the courage to do something potentially stupid.

Leia's voice came from behind him almost immediately. "Luke? What's troubling you?"

He bit back a wry smile. Of course she'd picked up on that. It was their father in her.

But the other half would be easier to talk about.

"Leia," he said, turning to face her. "Do you remember about your mother? Your real mother?"

Maybe she'd gone with Leia. Vader had never said. Neither had Ben.

Leia gave him a confused look. She didn't, but he seemed to want to know so badly..."Just a little bit. She died when I was very young."

That's what her father had told her.

Luke's eyes lit up. "What do you remember?"

Crap. Leia hedged. "Just images, really. Feelings."

"Tell me," Luke insisted.

"She was very beautiful," Leia said, keeping it general. "Kind...but sad." Something else her father had told her. "Why are you asking me about this?"

Luke sighed and stared off into the mist. "I have no memory of my mother," he said, his tone without accusation. He knew Leia had been making most of her memories up. "I never knew her."

Leia bit her lip. "Luke, tell me. What's troubling you?"

"Vader's here," Luke said. "On this moon." Or near enough.

The color drained from her face. "How do you know?"

"I felt his presence," Luke said quietly. "He can feel when I'm near. That's why I have to go." He turned to face her. "As long as I stay, I'm endangering the group and our mission here." He swallowed hard. "I have to face him."

Leia blinked. "Why?"

Because I promised Rory. Because it's what Ben wanted. Luke finally went with the absolute truth.

"Because he's my father."

She recoiled. "Your father?"

Luke moved closer. "There's more. It won't be easy for you to hear it, but you must. If I don't make it back, you're the only hope for the Alliance."

Leia stepped away. "Luke, don't talk that way. You have a power I--I don't understand." She smiled nervously. "And could never have."

He shook his head. "You're wrong, Leia. You have that power too. In time...you'll learn to use it as I have." He took a deep breath. "The Force is strong in my family. My father has it...I have it..." he looked into Leia's eyes..."And my sister has it."

Leia stared back, realization slowly dawning in her eyes.

"It's you, Leia," Luke said quietly.

"I know," she replied, voice sounding far away even to her own ears. "Somehow...I've always known."

Luke nodded. "Then you know why I have to go," he said.

"No!" she said sharply. "Luke, run away! Far away. If he can feel your presence, then leave this place. I wish I could go with you."

Luke was reminded sharply of Rory only a few days before. He shook his head.

"Why must you confront him?" Leia asked, holding back tears.

"Because...there is good in him. I've felt it. He won't turn me over to the Emperor. I can save him. I can turn him back to the good side." Luke shrugged. "I have to try."

Leia flung herself at him, holding on for a long moment before finally letting go.

There was really nothing left to say.

Luke, completely unaware of Artoo's edits to his messages, stopped his intensive study of the wall by the foot of his bed, took a deep breath and then reached for his comm equipment.

He had some disturbing news to tell Leia. Not the part about her being his sister--that needed to be told in person.

There was no sign of Han here. And there was a project going on at home that was big enough Vader was required to check on its progress. That was never good.

He took another breath, then turned on his comlink.

A few minutes of conversation later and he was back to staring at the wall. "Why did Han have to be on Tatooine?" he whined to the room. "Stupid Jabba."

After convincing Doctor Goodchild to let him out, Luke made his way back to the dorms.

To say that it had been a shitty couple of days was downplaying things to an almost ridiculous degree.

With a tired sigh, he unlocked the door to his room and began packing a few things, then changed into his flight suit.

Exactly how he was going to fly with one hand was something he hadn't figured out yet.

Stupid cryptic Force-ghosts and their stupid cryptic instructions.

He was so focused on what he was doing that he hadn't realized he'd left the door cracked open.

ETA to avoid spamming the flist... Several hours later, after dropping Yoda off with Rory and swearing he was coming back, Luke made his way to the X-Wing. The take off was wobbly, the approach into atmosphere more so, but he was adapting quickly. A few minutes later and even the exhaust streaks in the sky had blown away.

Luke was heading home. Master Yoda had a lot of questions to answer.

Here Comes The Flood - Peter Gabriel

Luke was lying on his stomach watching the video feeds of Anakin's lightsaber workouts that Peter had given him and taking notes. He'd occasionally freeze a section and stand up to reenact the pose.

It wasn't the fastest way to learn a weapon, but it was working. Not that he wanted to confront Vader any time soon (he was enjoying his classes (even if he and Bridge were never going to be friends), chatting with interesting people (though his conversation with Schrodinger had been a little strange), and going to a carnival and a dance too much to want to fling himself into a potentially suicidal confrontation) but the scales must be balanced eventually.

He just hoped that the lessons he was getting with Aeryn and the things he had learned from the library would be enough, at least until he got a chance to spar with Angel. And he was a good shot, too--even though he was certain that more than a few people had probably attempted that approach already. And trying for a strafing run in the X-Wing was just silly (even if Rory had liked the flight).

He picked up the stick he'd been using to imitate the weight of the lightsaber and tried to repeat one of his father's complicated movements against the training remote, stumbling a little on the footwork. Luke pressed his lips together and tried again.

He was going to get this right.

[OOC: Mostly a linkdrop of doom but if anyone wants to stop in to see him barreling around like a bantha, the door is knockable.]

Luke'd had a very long week.

He hadn't meant to traumatize almost every student he met (and there had been a lot of them), but he was still trying to wrap his head around the idea of his father being here a week ago. Pictures had helped, and the stories that people had begun telling him had been wonderful--Rory'd been especially great--but Luke was tired. (The gremlin show had been beyond strange, too. And that wasn't even counting the toaster. And the pink...thing. Or everyone who looked exactly the same.)

He'd begun wincing every time someone asked 'any relation?' at his last name. With the exception of Bel who'd told him that his father had been an ass--not exactly reassuring--everyone else seemed to take the loss of Anakin very, very hard.

Even classes hadn't been much of a respite (he'd managed to freak out Ms. Gilmore-Danes and the guy with the mask in Criminal Justice had given him a heart attack), though they'd introduced him to Teddy. Meeting a fellow newbie had been a relief (and Jello was neat! And jiggly!). And he was in a cool new club called NUKE. He wasn't planning on going out to Caritas with Parker any time soon, though. There was something in her eyes...besides, she'd told him not to jump off the roof. Who jumped off roofs for fun?

He flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling tiles. At least he wasn't in Ethics class.

After a very strange conversation with a girl in the third floor hallway--he hadn't caught her name-- and a very enlightening if not any more normal chat with Blair in the morning, Luke decided he needed to get some air.

His meanderings around town led him to the beach and he watched the waves crashing against the shore for hours, eyes full of wonder for so much water.

Too bad it would make it difficult to hear anyone coming up behind him.

[OOC: locked to That Guy.]