Chapter Ten

Luke Skywalker paced the dank floors of the basement room, deep in the bowels of the Imperial Palace, 
searching, centimeter by centimeter, as only a Jedi Master could.  He examined the walls, his fingers barely 
touching the cold, damp stone of the oldest portion of the Palace.  Moving through the Force, Luke reached 
with his senses, heightened to such fine-tuned precision that he was nearing the point of exhaustion from 
keeping the individual perceptions separate in his mind.  Luke opened his eyes, gazed about the room in 
frustration.  What had drawn him down here?

For weeks on end, he had searched the darkest portions of the Imperial Palace, descending ever deeper into 
the structure as he let his Jedi senses carry him back in time to the days of the Old Republic, an era when 
the older portions of the Palace were in use.  As was customary on Coruscant, foundations had been laid 
upon existing foundations, so that in many places one could step into the seamy underworld of the planet 
and literally disappear for days at a time.

Luke had ventured into many places he would just as soon never set foot in again, and had encountered life 
forms he never dreamed existed far below, beneath the surface of the Palace.  As yet he had not been able 
to uncover that elusive Darkness that had led him on this obsessive quest, haunting his every waking 
moment over the last several months. 

He turned about the room, sweeping it with his eyes and his Jedi senses, seeing beyond the dank bare walls 
and moldy corners.  His consciousness traveled to a time when the Imperial Palace was filled with living, 
breathing members of the Old Republic.  Luke thought perhaps this very room had entertained the Jedi, and 
that this might be the reason he had been so inexorably drawn to it. 

There had been many Jedi Knights as protectors of the Old Republic, before the darkness that was 
Palpatine had seized power and had had the Jedi ruthlessly slaughtered, with Darth Vader as his chief 
accomplice.  That Anakin Skywalker had returned to the Light Side immediately prior to his death did 
nothing to alleviate the residual guilt that Luke felt as a consequence of being his father's son.  Now his 
greatest fear was that of losing another member of his family to the darkness that lurked within them all.

He thought of Leia and her children and his heart cinched tightly with loneliness.  Twice in the past few 
weeks he had felt his sister's Sense reach out for him, the contact fleeting but intense, and each time he had 
felt that she wanted to call him to her but was somehow afraid to do so.

Luke privately despaired at his inability to make that connection with her, feeling that if he could somehow 
touch her mind as she was touching his she might come to the understanding that he no longer wished to 
separate her from her baby.  As things now stood, he felt the child as safe in her parents' care as she would 
be anywhere else, certainly better off than if they had remained on Coruscant.

He calculated the short time until Leia's delivery with a renewed sense of urgency.  He longed to go to his 
sister, to be there for the arrival of his new little niece, and to provide them both with his Jedi protection to 
the best of his ability.  If only she would reach for him and ask him to come to them.

He turned, his eyes searching the room one last time, and finally started for the opened door - and stopped 
in mid-stride.

A sudden, overwhelming sense of oppression filled the small confines of the basement room and Luke was 
seized with a powerful sadness, mixed with rage and despair, a feeling of utter hopelessness such as he had 
never before experienced.  The magnitude of the emotion staggered him, and he stumbled to the nearest 
wall, leaning weakly against it, shaking his head to master the pain that wrenched at his heart and his mind, 
and hinted at a loss of both.

Through the haze he had the sudden vivid impression of his father, Anakin Skywalker.  His hooded image 
glimmered faintly in the light from the corridor outside the open door, piercing the dimness of the wretched 
little room.

Luke stood frozen, afraid to move lest the vision fade.  He had seen his father's true face only twice before: 
once, when he'd helped Darth Vader remove his heavy black breath mask moments before expiring on the 
floor of the main docking bay of the second Death Star; and again outside the Ewok village during the 
celebration of the battle station's destruction, when his ephemeral image joined that of Obi-Wan and Master 
Yoda as they looked upon the festivities with satisfaction.

Anakin Skywalker had appeared to Leia shortly after that, during their time on Bakura, begging his 
daughter's forgiveness and seeking absolution.  At the time Leia had adamantly refused to have anything to 
do with him, and Luke had always felt a twinge of jealousy that their father had come to her, but had never 
again appeared to him.

Now Anakin Skywalker had returned, and Luke felt instinctively that he had come to give his son the 
answers he so desperately sought.

"Father?" he breathed.  "Why have you come?"

"Once there was a forest moon," the image began, "peopled by a race of sentient beings strong in the Force.  
I helped the Emperor enslave the populace, and we brought them back to Coruscant."  He gestured about 
the room with a sweeping ghostly hand.  "This is where they met their tortured end."

Luke held his breath as his father continued, in a voice heavily laden with sorrow and regret. "Once the 
prisoners were broken, they turned in their agony to the Dark Side.  And as they turned, Palpatine was 
there, looming above them in their death throes, draining their life forces of every drop of Dark Side 
energy, down to the last moment.  It was this acquisition that allowed him to take control of the galaxy."

The image of Anakin Skywalker fell silent.  Luke could feel his father's shame at his own role in the 
persecutions, and the young Jedi swallowed hard, his desperate question choking him in its uncertainty.  
Before he could make his dry lips form the words, the apparition spoke again.

"Go to your sister, Luke," he counseled, as his image slowly faded from view.  "Go to her now, and 
quickly, or all will be lost."  And then he was gone, as suddenly as he had appeared.

Luke stood a moment longer, calling to his father through the Force, willing the apparition to reappear, but 
the melancholy little room remained void but for a lingering echo of his father's warning.

Sighing deeply, Luke pulled his Jedi robe a little more tightly about his shoulders, and turned to leave the 
room, closing the heavy metal door behind him as he stepped into the ancient stone corridor.  He'd learn 
nothing more tonight; that much was obvious.

Slowly, the Jedi Master began the long climb up to the present-day Palace, feeling immeasurably older than 
when he had descended to this haunted level.  His footsteps fell heavily on the cold stone floor, beating a 
litany of his father's words.

"...all will be lost...all will be lost..."

***********************

Han's eyes snapped open, awakened by the simultaneous moaning of his wife beside him and those of his 
youngest son in the room next to theirs.  He looked at Leia, lying on her side, mumbling softly and 
incoherently, her small hands clutching at her distended belly as if to protect the child within.  Just as Han 
moved to sooth her, Anakin's moans became cries, and he reluctantly left Leia's side to calm the little boy 
before the other members of the household were awakened.

He crept into the children's room and moved silently to the little alcove where Anakin lay on his back, 
tossing his head restlessly, his cries alternately rising and falling in pitch and timbre.  Han knelt at his son's 
bed, put his lips to the child's ear and whispered soothingly.  After a few moments of stroking the soft dark 
curls, Anakin quieted and settled into a more gentle slumber.  Assured of his son's peaceful sleep, Han 
turned and left the room, wondering if Leia had settled as well.

Their bed was empty when he returned to their chambers.  Softly calling her name, his eyes searched the 
darkened room.  On several occasions in the past two weeks Han had awakened in the night to find Leia 
missing and had ultimately found her in different parts of the treehouse.

The first time Han had awakened to see his wife standing in the middle of their chambers, her eyes fixed 
and staring and facing the large picture window which looked out onto the forest.  The second instance had 
found her progressing to the living quarters and on the last occasion Han had found her outside on the 
verandah, standing at
the edge of the railing and gazing out over the endless vista of trees.

Puzzled, he found his pants and pulled them on, shoved his feet into his boots before leaving their 
chambers.  He did a tour of the treehouse, poking his head through the door to the main living quarters, 
searching the diningroom and food preparation area and finding nothing.  Opening the main door, he 
ventured out into the bitter chill of the evening and made the circuit around the house, his stomach 
tightening anxiously.  Where in the cosmos was Leia?

Moving to the stairwell of the porch, Han peered over the railing and spied one of the repulsorlifts at rest on 
the ground twenty meters below.  Both of the lifts had been secured on the porch when they had retired 
several hours ago, of that Han was certain.  Leia must have taken one.  Something cold settled into the pit 
of Han's stomach.

Jacen had said that the tree had called him, and that he had come!

Cursing darkly, Han dashed back inside the house, into the room that Chewbacca occupied and called out 
shortly, urgently. "Chewie, I've got to go find Leia.  Watch the kids!"

At his partner's affirmative growl, Han hurried back to their sleeping chambers and grabbed a fully charged 
blaster from the lockbox on top of the wardrobe, tucking the weapon in the waistband of his pants as he 
dashed for the door.  Spotting Leia's robe lying across the foot of the bed, he grabbed it and a blanket as an 
afterthought and fled the room.

Han sped out the main door and into the empty lift, began the interminable trip down, and in every 
torturous second that passed he feared for his wife and child.

********************

Leia stood barefoot before the twisted tree at the edge of the hillside meadow.  Touched in sleep by an 
irresistible command, she had risen trance-like from bed, slipping through the outer door onto the verandah.  
Taking one of the lifts down to the surface, Leia had walked mechanically through the dark and lonely 
woods to Jacen's Dark Spot, unaware of her destination, knowing only that she must come when 
summoned.

She stood before the source of the calling and woke from her dazed state, craning her neck and looking up 
through the massive branches.  Without warning a wave of harrowing memory swept her, not unlike that 
she had felt years before when passing through that dark sector of the galaxy where Palpatine had met his 
end.  It was a feeling all too familiar in the wake of her experience in the strange little alcove back in the 
Imperial Palace; that incident she had tried so hard to bury.

Swiftly, brutally, Leia was seized with an overwhelming perception of anger and dread, horror and hatred 
and - above all else - helplessness.  An agonizing amalgamation of rage and despair roiled within her, and 
she fought for her sanity, feeling as if she were drowning in darkness.  She strove to weather the dark storm 
of emotion, as wave upon heinous wave crashed against her Sense, battering her soul.

She put her hands to her head, shoving at the painful sensations, willing them out of her realm of 
perception, but still they came at her like demons in the night, tearing at her hair with sharp talons of abject 
misery, raking her consciousness with sorrow such as she had never known.

Overwhelmed by darkness, Leia sank to the soft forest floor and lay unconscious upon the cold, damp 
ground.

The brisk night breezes shifted, increasing in intensity with every passing moment.  Whipped to a fevered, 
howling pitch the force of the maelstrom showered Leia's prone body with dead leaves, clawing at her hair 
and nightclothes, burying her in its frenzy.

Han plowed through the meadow at breakneck speed, burst through to the clearing and recoiled in horror at 
the sight of his wife lying silent and still on the ground before the haunting tree.

Covered with nature's debris, the moonlight reflected off of her white nightgown, the fabric seeming to 
wink at him, barely visible through the blanket of leaves.  With a strangled cry, he ran to his wife and 
dropped to his knees beside her, frantically brushing the leaves from her still form.

Wrapping the robe and blanket around her, he turned her gently in his arms, felt his blood turn to ice as her 
head fell limply against his chest.  He reached for the pulse in her neck, heaving a mighty sob of relief 
when he detected its steady rhythm.  Abruptly, Leia's eyes snapped open and she looked up at her husband, 
dazed and confused.

"Han?  What's happening?"  She looked about the darkened forest, shivering in the cold.  "What are we 
doing outside?"

Han tightened the blanket around her, clasping her against him, sharing his body heat.  "Woman, what do 
you think you're doing, coming out here by yourself at this time of night?"  He rested his hand on her 
stomach and exhaled in a rush as he felt the reassuring movement from within.  "And in the shape you're 
in!  You scared me half to death!"

She looked at him, bewildered.  "I don't know how I got here.  I don't remember anything."  She looked 
around her again.

"Where are we any-" she broke off, appalled as her eyes caught sight of the colossal tree looming above 
them.

Han felt the sudden escalation of her fear in the shivering that possessed her body and he held her tightly 
against him, comfortingly.  "It's just a tree, Leia," he told her reasonably, "and you've been sleepwalking 
again."

"No, Han, it called me" she whispered, staring upward through the mighty branches.  "It called me and I 
came."  Even now Leia heard the lingering echo of her name, calling insistently, resonating throughout the 
Force, demanding her attention.  She weakened her connection, lowering her perception so that she could 
effectively tune out the summons from her awareness.  But the calling was far too overpowering for her to 
be able to repel it for long.

She pressed against her husband, more frightened than she had ever been in her life.  Leia felt, and 
intensely, hurtfully so, that something dreadful had happened here, in this spot, something dark and painful 
and ultimately shattering.  But it was something that she was not at all certain she was prepared to handle 
with any success.  This was too close to Darkness.

Realizing a fear greater than any she had ever known, it suddenly became imperative that they leave this 
place at once.  "Take me away from here, Han" she urged him, clutching at his shoulders, struggling to get 
to her feet.  "Take me home - " Leia froze, her breath caught in an agonized gasp at the sudden violent 
spasm that tore through her lower body, and she reached instinctively through the Force to tune out the pain 
that now seemed to be ripping her apart.

She rode the crest of the excruciating wave, willing herself to find her center, as Luke had taught her, as she 
had done before when the twins and Anakin had made known their impending arrival.  No, a small, 
desperate part of her protested.  Not yet!  It's too soon!

"Leia!" Han cried, fear clawing at his vitals.  Their baby was not due for several more weeks, and he 
recoiled at the very thought of the dire consequences which often resulted from a premature birth, 
especially one whose onset was fraught with trauma.  He held his breath as he held her, the seconds ticking 
away with agonizing slowness until the contraction finally eased and Han heaved a sigh of relief as he 
watched the evidence of pain disappear from between Leia's brows.

"Please, Han," she entreated, when she was again able to speak.  "Take us home.  Please get us away from 
this place!"

Han needed no further prompting and helped her carefully to her feet, leaning her against him and 
supporting her as they slowly, painfully made their way back toward the treehouse.  Leia moved as if 
walking on eggshells and several times she stumbled, clutching at him so that Han finally lifted her 
burdened body in his arms and carried her the remainder of the way.

Leia pondered her predicament as she rode against him, and she reached with her rudimentary Jedi skills, 
seeking guidance through the Force.  Han loved her, she reasoned, as she loved him, more than life; of that 
she had no doubt.  He had said that he would do anything for her, anything she asked of him to eliminate 
the dreadful feelings of impending disaster that were creeping daily into her realm of perception, worming 
their way into her life and impinging upon the happiness she had previously found on Endor.

Leia took a deep breath and prepared to make the request of her mate that she had yearned to ask for weeks 
on end.  He beat her to the punch:  "Sweetheart, I think it's about time you gave Luke a shout."

She smiled softly against his neck, her head on his sturdy shoulder, her lips at his ear.  He knew her so well.  
"I love you," she whispered.

"I know," he said quietly.  Together they made their way down the moonlit path, away from the Dark Spot, 
back to their haven in the trees.

*********************

Leia sat with blankets piled over and around her, wrapped in the comfort of the massive four poster bed 
Han had constructed for them, looking about her comfortable home.  She was happy here, living as one 
with nature.  She felt instinctively that her husband and children shared her happiness.

She was a grown woman, she scolded herself, she was a strong woman and she was not about to let some 
silly tree drive her away from the home she and her family had come to love!

Han entered the room bearing a tray laden with a pot of hot spiced paricha, the exotic aroma of the 
beverage drifting across to her, filling her mind with memories of Winter and of the special blend she had 
concocted for her mistress.  Leia had been pleasantly surprised to find that Han had included it in the 
provisions for their journey, and she now smiled at his thoughtfulness.  He really had thought of 
everything.

He crossed the room to the bed and set the tray on the bedside table, seating himself beside her and pouring 
her a cup of the comforting brew.  "Drink this," he ordered, pressing it into her cold hands and covering 
them with his.  "It'll warm you up." 

Although she'd experienced no further contractions since that one mighty stab at the base of the tree, that 
fact did little to alleviate the alarm Han still felt over the events of the last hour.

He tucked the blankets a little more tightly about her, rubbing her legs through the fabric.  "You know, 
sweetheart, if this tree had to call you, don't you think it could have waited until morning?  Or at least told 
you to put on some clothes before taking off after it?"

"Sendings don't work that way, my love" Leia answered, smiling at his touching attempt at levity, caressing 
his face with her eyes.  "One never knows when or where the Force will call," she sighed and took a sip 
from her cup.  She was quiet a moment, savoring the flavor of the beverage as it slipped down her suddenly 
scratchy throat, settling into her stomach with a satisfying warmth.

Leia shook her head at Han as he sat watching her.  "It's still such a mystery to me.  There's so much I don't 
understand, so much I need to know, if only so that I can teach the children."

Han noted the old signs of stress back in her face, the slight furrow between her delicate brows and the 
silent anxiety that haunted her dark eyes.  He reached out and plucked a stowaway leaf from her tangled 
hair, again questioning the wisdom of bringing his family here.  He had thought he could rid his wife of her 
demons if he could just get her away from the frantic pace of life on Coruscant.  Instead, it seemed, that by 
taking her away from her Jedi twin, he had substituted one form of torment for another.

In retrospect, the jealousy that had absorbed him back on Coruscant now seemed like a bad dream, and Han 
now wondered what had possessed him to get so upset about Luke's contact with Leia.  It wasn't as if he 
hadn't been exposed to it all these years, hadn't been witness to and on many occasions grateful that they 
shared that special link.  It had saved their skins more than once.

"So when are you going to call Luke?" he asked, surrendering peacefully to the dominance of the 
Skywalker connection.  "I'm big enough to admit when I'm in over my head.  You and the kids need a Jedi 
Master to instruct you in the ways of the Force.  And if this tree really is talking to you and Jacen, I'd feel a 
lot better if Luke could check it out, too."

Leia had a sudden flash of insight and gasped at the realization:  Anakin's troubled sleep, the ramblings of a 
"bad tree" that she had heard him moaning about so many times.  She reached for Han's hand and clutched 
it tightly, the blood draining from her face.  "I think it may be calling to Anakin as well," she whispered.

//Oh, Luke!,// she reached urgently for her brother's Sense, and this time she did not stifle the urge to touch 
his mind.  With a tremendous surge of Force-energy she projected her Sense into the cosmos, far across the 
galaxy toward Coruscant.

Visualizing her twin's placid blue eyes meeting hers as she made contact with him, Leia now opened 
herself completely to his perception, allowing him to feel all that she was likewise feeling, the fear that 
consumed her, the confusion that occluded all else.

//Luke!  We need you!//

[End Chapter]