Fandom: Star Wars (both timelines)
Pairing: Han/Luke, Anakin/Obi-Wan
Series: Sort of (fits the "Seasons of Corellia" series
Status: Complete
Website: http://www,geocities.cm/lady_aethelynde
Archive: Yes to lists. Private archives please ask.
Summary: Skywalker men and the Force are not the most comfortable combination for those around them
Warning(s): noncon, violence


Legacy
by Angel

"Twins!" Han Solo's voice was practically a roar as the meddroid returned its verdict. The day had started badly enough, with a reminder to report for his annual physical. He'd spent six hours being poked and prodded. He'd run on a treadmill and held his breath in a submersion tank. But instead of the usual clearance and order to report again next year, the droid had run him through another battery of tests.

"A most unheard of and indelicate situation, General," the machine whirred, showing the readout on its screen. The data were inescapable.

Drawn by the shout, Luke came in from the waiting room. He'd completed his own physical half an hour before. "What is it, Han?"

"This piece o'scrap seems to think I'm pregnant! With twins!"

Luke did not collapse into gales of helpless laughter at the thought, but he contemplated hysteria as he kept his face an impervious mask of calm and raised an eyebrow. "That's biologically impossible. Han, how in the name of the Force did this happen?'

"I think it happened when that talking junkheap got recalibrated. `Mgonna reprogram it with a flaming wrench!" Luke stopped Han from actually launching himself at the hapless droid. Han took a breath and tried to cool down. "Mechanical failure is the only answer for it. It's impossible." He wasn't convincing himself, and struggled against Luke's grip.

A strange look had come over Luke's face as he pressed his hand against Han's body. He moved slightly to the center, where the Corellian liver was located. He seemed to be listening.

"Um, Han. It may not be a mechanical failure."

***

The ride home was silent. Luke sat close, wrapped in the circle of Han's arms, trying not to listen to the embryonic chaos emanating from his mate's stomach.

Once at their apartment, Luke kissed Han and went straight to the closet he'd converted into a meditation room. Han hit the terminal and checked all the data banks for occurrences of pregnancy in human males. Not surprisingly, the only thing he found were role-reversal comedies and filthy jokes. Realizing he wouldn't get any information there, he sat down and began to wonder about the future.

Luke came out of his meditation room, disturbed and sat beside him. Han's distress had reached him along their bond, and the news he had would not be a likely cure. The Force had been disturbed, and he'd even heard from Yoda this time. It was never a good sign when personalities started to emerge from the oneness.

"Han." He leaned in closer and kissed his much-loved mate. "How do you feel?"

"Great. The med-droid cleared me 100%, except..."

Luke laid a gentle hand on his stomach. "I know."

Han shrugged. "I have options. It's not like they can live, and the droid said them being attached to my liver would kill me too."

"Han, we have to find a way to bring them to term." Luke cradled Han's face in his hands. "The Force caused this. If we merely remove them, it will continue to happen until we get them born."

"I don't have options." Han jerked out of Luke's hands and smashed a fist into the table. "Every rachi on Corellia can reabsorb an inconvenient litter, but your great and all-knowing Force says *I* have to carry to term. Never mind that I'll be dead in five months." He paced, angry strides carrying him halfway across the room and back.

"Han. I got answers as well as the news. Repro-labs. Surely they have facilities."

Han froze. "It's risky, Luke."

"True." Luke came to him and nudged him toward the kitchen area. "But safer than the current situation. Eat. The med-droid did say you had to eat." He punched up dinner from the table and Han snorted at it.

"Nursemaiding me? Luke, I'm a big boy and can eat what I want for dinner." He pushed the plate of vegetables away and started reprogramming for barv steak, extra rare. The terminal beeped "denied" at him.

"I didn't program the synth. The droid did. You're apparently on a fairly strict diet at this point. Look, just go with it. It's only for a few days." Luke pushed the food around on his identical plate.

Han ate sullenly, and spent the evening researching embryonic transfer. It was a risky process. The embryos could go into a willing host womb, or be raised in artificial wombs. The latter would be ideal, but most of the cloning labs had been shut down by the Republic. Luke had been tied up with matters of Jedi duty. He finally came over and took a look at the screen, pressing a kiss on Han's cheek.

"So, are we decided?"

"Not much to decide. A transfer to a jar sounds like the best shot. Otherwise, we'd better hope Marni and Lyssa are still willing." Luke smiled at the mention of their nieces, but knew that option would cause more trouble than they currently had. Han's large family was strong willed, philoprogenitive and very protective of their baby brother. The matriarch of the clan, Elka, had been encouraging them to find a way to have children and honor the names of their fathers. Somehow, Luke didn't think their news would satisfy her.

"What's so funny?" Han growled.

"Nothing. Just thinking of how much I love you. And how Elka would take this."

"Oh Stars! We're not telling her."

"No, not at all." Luke kissed him again, more lingering this time. "Come to bed? It's late. We have a big day tomorrow. We're seeing Leia."

Han let out a bitter laugh. "Bed's what got us into this whole mess, kid." He stood up and caught Luke in his arms. Luke melted against his body, conforming to the planes of him from years of practice.

"I know. But at least I married you first, right?"

"Smartmouth Jedi." Han kissed him hard, Luke's mouth a welcome distraction from the bizarre day.

"Come to bed and let me show you," Luke teased when Han let him up for air, arching his throat to the lovebites his mate was sprinkling down it.

"Yeah." Desire had roughened Han's voice in the way Luke loved to hear. The speed with which Han got aroused still surprised him. He set the soundproofing to maximum and dimmed the lights.

***

"Twins?" Leia Organa, leader of the New Republic, was a dignified woman. A small smile was the most anyone ever saw. Now she laughed until her ribs ached at the news her brother and his lover had just presented to her. "That's--" she gasped "ridi--ridic--diculous!"

A look at their faces told her this was not one of Han's notorious pranks. A touch from Luke's aura revealed the sheer anxiety coming off her brother in waves.

"The embryos have attached themselves to his liver," Luke began. "This is going to kill all three of them if we don't find a solution."

"Well, they're his all right. Going straight for the booze. I hope they like pickles, General." The attitude was almost automatic. Jibes were one of the few ways she could keep her calm around her brother's mate.

"Leia, this is not a godsbedamned joke! This is going to *kill* all three of us." Han felt she'd missed the point the first time through. "We need a place that can help us."

She sobered up. "Any meddroid should be able to remove them without much difficulty." The sheer silliness of the situation overcame her again and she tried not to giggle.

"Leia," Luke was calm and rational. "That this occurred is obviously the will of the Force. If we thwart it by mere removal, the situation will only recur. We need to not only remove the embryos, but remove them to a hospitable environment where they can mature into infants. Our sons need your help, my sister. And we need it today."

Lei softened. They had obviously discussed this long and hard before coming to her. "Cloning is still illegal, and most reprolabs are careful to avoid anything that even looks like it. The best ones are here on Coruscant or on Corellia. Here, the Republic exercises a lot of control, and it's not secure. The holos *will* get word. Han, your best bet may be to go home."

It was the answer Han had hoped to avoid. If Luke and Leia were bad, his family would never let him live this one down. But it was still better than the whole damn galaxy knowing Luke had knocked him up. "All right, Corellia."

The smile started to creep over Leia's face again.

"So help me, sweetheart, if you laugh once more, I'm gonna forget you're my bondsister and turn you over my knee," Han threatened.

"Han, let's go. The quicker we get this remedied, the better." Luke, always the peacemaker, had stepped between then, and was turning his bondmate toward the door. We still have to tell Chewbacca, too, my love."

Leia kept a straight face until the door shut. But imagining Chewie's reaction made her laugh until tears rolled down her face and she gasped for breath. Regaining herself, she whispered, "Congratulations, boys. I can't wait to meet my nephews."

***

"Boys!" Grandad called from the edge of the landing pad. "What brings you clear across the galaxy to see an old man? You're not in trouble, are ya, son?"

Chewbacca snorted, but held his peace.

"Let's go inside, Grandad," Han said. "You're gonna need a drink."

The old man had a light lunch on the table, waiting for the men, and poured them each a glass of brandy. Luke sipped his, but Han left his untouched.

"That's Stom's best. Drink up, boy."

"I can't, Grandad. That's the problem."

"Can't?" The old man snorted. "Son, you've been drinking that longer than you've been shaving! Don't give me can't."

"I'm pregnant," Han said miserably. The words sounded no less absurd now than they had the first time. He took a drink of water, eyeing the brandy wistfully.

"Either my hearing's going or I'm crazy. I thought you said you were pregnant." Grandad took a second drink.

"That's what I said. Some Jedi thing, and I'm the target."

Grandad turned to Luke. "What'd you do with that Jedi hoodoo, boy?"

"I didn't do anything, Grandad. But the Force did. We need some help from the reprolabs. Since you used to work for one, we thought you could help."

"Aye, I managed the entire implantation department for years, but we never had a male get pregnant. Since you're here and asking for help, I'm guessing it's a keeper. Let me call Astri, she knows the current ins and outs better than I do."

Han caught his arm. "Grandad, if you tell Astri, she'll tell Elka. And you know Elka!"

"Astri's a good girl. She won't blab if you say don't. `Sides, I won't even tell her you're here. Move out of pick-up range, boys, and I'll have our girl here by tonight."

Astri arrived in time for supper. "Uncle Han!' She kissed his cheek in surprise. "Uncle Luke! I didn't know you were here."

"We told Grandad not to tell you. Your Mama doesn't need to know, sweetheart."

Astri placed a finger on her lips and looked solemn. For an instant, she was the image of Elka. She sat down in Grandad's small living room. "So what brings you home?"

"We need reprotech help, Astri,"

"You've caved? You're ready to have kids?" The dynastic strain ran in the family because she looked almost as excited as Elka would.

"No, The Force is ready for us to have kids. We need an embryo transfer." Luke tried to be as clinical as he could and explained the situation. Han sipped juice and stared at the floor, his embarrassment was acute.

Astri was all business, cataloging their options. "Embryo transfers are best done in the first five weeks. After that, the trauma leaves a permanent psychological mark, and fetal transfer, after the eight-week mark, is much riskier. How far are you?"

"Two weeks the med droid said."

"Good. We can transfer to a host mother or to an artificial womb. We prefer the former. There is some emotional bonding that occurs. It contributes to healthy growth. If we use the latter, it requires a commitment to daily visits. You'll have to stay on Corellia until we decant them."

***

Astri unlocked the door to her office and turned on the lights. She turned on the scanner and reached for her labcoat. Han sat down on the examining table, and Luke leaned against a nearby wall, both concealing their nervousness from their niece.

She ran the scanner over Han and nodded to herself. Reaching for a pad, she made a few notes, mumbling under her breath. "Uncle Han, I put them at three weeks. It's the perfect time to move them into an artificial environment. If you give me an hour, I can have everything ready and we'll have the transfer done before morning."

Luke laid a hand on Han's stomach and listened for a moment. That still hadn't stopped making Han's skin crawl and even Astri looked uncomfortable. "Can you put them in the same jar? They are so entwined in each others' aura that separating them would be dangerous, I think."

Astri nodded. "Wait here. I'll arrange everything." The door closed behind her.

Han drew Luke in a little closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning his head into Luke's chest. "An hour," he said. "In an hour, I'll be back to myself."

Luke sat down beside him, never moving out of his arms. Han was scared, he could sense it. They'd both been scared since the meddroid had told them this news. Astri returned a few minutes later.

"Uncle Luke, I hate to ask, but I need you to wait outside. This is a major invasive surgery."

Luke kissed Han and said "I'll be right outside." As he stepped out, he listened to Astri's voice.

"Uncle Han, I need you to take off your clothes and lie back." Had it been anyone else, Luke would have been jealous of what sounded like a proposition. "Now, just breathe deeply and we'll get this all taken care of."

Luke sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs. After a minute, he abandoned it to sit on the floor and meditate. It was the only way to keep himself calm. He found the place of the mists, where he sometimes heard from his teachers. Yoda tottered out of the mist.

"Your younglings, safe they are?"

"Our niece, Astri, is taking care of things right now. How did this happen, Master Yoda?"

"Hmm unexpected it was, but not impossible." Yoda paced. "Conceived the same way you were. Wondered, did you ever, why like Obi-Wan you look and not like your sister? Hmm? Wondered whether Vader your father was?"

"Of course. Especially after Bespin. I had an odd idea. Vader said he was my father, but the Force seemed to be telling me Obi-Wan was."

"No memories of your mother have you, because no mother have you. Sister, conceived normally she was. Forced upon Obi-Wan you were."

"Master Yoda, why haven't any of you told me this before?"

"Pains Obi-Wan too much this memory does. Sum of all his failures, it was, yes, that his apprentice could be so dark as to do this." The gnomic face held memories of a millennium of pain, and the old eyes were sadder than Luke had ever seen them. "And ashamed your father is, of the acts the Dark Side led him to."

"Ashamed indeed, Master Yoda, but not so crippled by guilt as to be unable to aid my own son." Anakin emerged from the mists of the Force, and sat down beside them on the log Luke's mind had created.

"Father," Luke's voice was hesitant for the first time. "Why? And how?"

"The How is easier to answer, I suspect. Since I am a product of the Force, it was simple enough to bend it to my will and cause the creation of an embryo. My boy, I wish you had been created in love, as your sister was, as your sons are, instead of hate and anger. That was what made it easy for Obi-Wan and Yoda to mold you into the weapon of my destruction."

"Why?"

"Perhaps I should let my younger self show you that. The memories are old and bitter, Luke. I committed many atrocities as Vader, but that was the first of my crimes. Come."

He held out a hand, and Luke took it and they side-slipped in the Force. Back into a time before the Empire, before the Jedi were eradicated. Into the younger Anakin's mind, into the maelstrom of fury and hate.

He sits in our quarters meditating so serenely. With the beard, he might be a holy man, a saint even, from any one of a dozen planets. It's an image he cultivates. And one more lie in the series he tells himself and the universe.

I'd hoped he could be like my father, once. I settled for him being my teacher. There was never any love there. Love can't live where there is fear and power. He always struggled so hard to keep me in my place. Well, tonight master, your struggle is over.

I watch him from the doorway. Mom loved me. Qui-Gon loved me. Padme loved me. They're all dead. Everyone who ever loved me is dead. Everyone else is just afraid of me. Except one. My new teacher does not fear me. He revels in my power, my hunger for it.

I shield my thoughts from my master, as I have since childhood. He, on the other hand, meditates open to the Force. He's thinking of Qui-Gon again. The thought angers me as much as the image of him. For twelve years, it's always been Qui-Gon. The only reason I stand here is because he promised his master he'd train me.

So honorable. It may be the death of you yet, my master. Just as it was of my beloved wife. Yes, my wife. And he doesn't even know. He doesn't know I married her. Or that she died carrying my daughter.

"I'm sorry, Anakin," was all he said. "I know you liked her. It's a hazard of political office in wartime."

He doesn't even know it was his fault. He was supposed to guard her. He was supposed to keep her safe on that trip. But he farmed it out to Organa's incompetents and they all died. All his fault.

Mom is his fault too. I could have saved her. I would have. But he didn't believe me, wouldn't let me go. He tried to tell me that dreams pass in time. How could he not have heard her? She suffered. She spent months in pain. She died at the hands of those animals. And it's all his fault.

And even Qui-Gon is his fault. He knows that. He doesn't know how many nights I've watched him thrash in the throes of nightmares,
calling for his master or reliving Naboo. He is beautiful in torment. In his anguished nightmares, he achieves a transcendence he cannot in his serene meditation. I want him then.

I want him as much as I ever wanted Padme. I wanted to protect her, care for her. I want to possess him, make him even more beautiful.

She was taken from me. And it's all his fault. Yet he meditates, serene and oh so very holy. I want to remove the serenity, strip it away, and reduce him to that gorgeous torment I have seen so often. His holiness begs to be defiled.

Mind still shielded, I am across the room in two steps. A Force barrier is in place. A thermal detonator could go off in here and no one would hear a thing.

"Padawan? Why-" I stop the question with a kiss. That mouth. That mouth under mine. His lips are soft even as he tries to fight me. I bite them, holding him immobile.

I've been careful not to let him know I've become stronger than he is. Now, I give him the knowledge that I could have taken him at any time. I didn't want him then. Now, I want him to pay. It's all his fault. I want him beautiful and suffering at my hands. I kiss my way down his neck.

"Anakin, stop."

I mark him then, a lovebite at the base of his throat. Hidden by his tunics in the course of the day, it will serve to remind him exactly who is the master now. Mine. The bruise forming on his neck says it.

"Mine," I breathe, letting the word play across his ear. "You have taken everything from me. Everyone I ever loved died because of you."

He struggles, but my arms are inexorable iron bands. "Everyone. Padme." I remove his tunics with the Force. They fall, revealing the perfect compact body I've dreamed of for years. I could hold him with the Force, and strip him with my hands. It would be easier. But there is something supremely satisfying about knowing he cannot escape me.

His face is terror, and it delights me to see him so. "It's your fault my wife is dead, Master." I pin his hands behind him, holding him easily. My free hand strokes him like a pet: his hair, his beard, his smooth, strong chest. I pinch his nipples, hard, making him gasp in pain. He arches involuntarily, trying to escape me, but that only brings him in closer contact with my groin. He feels it now, the hardness awaiting him, and jerks back as if burned.

"So terrified, my master?" My tone is ironic. "Of your own padawan?" I tsk my disapproval. "What would the Council say?" As I open his pants, I add, "But I forgot, they're all afraid of me, too."

"Ani, please don't." He must be in mortal fear, indeed, to resort to my baby name, especially knowing how I hate it. Then it comes, as I expected: an assault through the Force. I fend him off, battering him with waves of the darkness my new teacher has given me. Then, something he never taught me: I cage him, imprisoning his mind in dark fire. The slightest attempt at Force manipulation will leave him brain-damaged, a vegetable.

"What are you going to do?" Trust this man to ask the obvious. I press closer to him, grinding my cock into his belly.

"Anything I want to, little master. Everything I want to." He's naked before me now, except for his boots. So very sensual, and hiding it all so well since Qui-Gon died. "Most of all, you will pay for all the things that are your fault. For Qui-Gon." He flinches at the accusation. I am saying nothing he hasn't heard from his own conscience. "All your fault. Too slow. You were too slow to save him."

Now I hold him immobile with the Force. My hands run down his back and chest, and I stop in the center. I press solidly, until I feel his ribs creak. "Right there. I could put my hands through your body, Master. Let you have the same sort of wound, and join your beloved Qui-Gon." He doesn't speak and can't use the Force, but the longing on his face nearly begs me to do this. "He's dead. And it's your fault. Padme is your fault too."

"I didn't-"

"No, you didn't. You didn't go with her." My hand forced his legs apart. "You didn't protect her." His cock is trying to climb back inside him, but I grasp it firmly and rub too hard. He presses his eyes shut. "You didn't keep her alive. She's dead. And it's all your fault. My daughter, the one she was carrying, is dead with her. And that's your fault too!

//Father, I've seen enough.//

//Very well, Luke.//

They left the past and returned to Luke's meditation place.

"I was young and arrogant and in pain. What I did was wrong, my son. I hurt us all. I was very glad to hear your sister had lived, although I have harmed her with the darkness as well. You must always guard against the dark. Because you were my final vengeance on Kenobi, it was easy for them to use you for revenge. It is coded in every cell of you, and will devour you if you allow it."

Luke thought on this disconcerting information. "Han spoke of removing the embryos. Could Obi-Wan have not done the same?"

Anakin's hands, still in the black gloves of his alter ego, clenched then opened. "He had no chance." He would not meet his son's eyes. "I kept him with me constantly, a prisoner throughout. He saw the med droids only under my supervision. He slept in my arms every night, unwillingly. Badly too, as you grew larger."

Luke heard the things his father would not tell him, the nightmare Obi-Wan had endured through his gestation: the constant presence of his fallen pupil and rapist, the ever-growing invasion of his body, reminding him of the first hellish time.

Anakin steeled himself and went on. "I carved you from him with my own lightsaber, not caring if I killed him. I nearly did. The meddroid barely saved him. But you, last of my family, would have been worth any number of deaths. You never left my arms in the first month of your life, Luke. The Dark Side lost much of its hold on me in those days. Even Obi-Wan began to forgive me and accept you."

A deep sigh as the memories passed. "We might have come to some sort of life together, never an easy or a happy one, but a life
nonetheless, had not Palpatine sensed my growing distance and summoned me back to duty. I wasn't ready for him to know of you, and there is no place for an infant on a star destroyer. Obi-Wan said he would care for you. I trusted him to, knowing my planet was escapeproof. I was wrong about that knowledge. He stole you and fled."

"To Tatooine," Luke finished. "The one place you hated enough to never return." Privately, he was grateful he had been raised quietly by his aunt and uncle, loved and cared for, rather than a child-pawn in a battle of Force-users.

"And he bided his time until you were old enough to kill me."

"It seemed pure justice," added Kenobi's voice from the mists, "to use the product of Vader's crimes to set them right. And the knowledge of patricide would have destroyed you, thus neutralizing the last threat." He coalesced and sat on the log beside Anakin. "The Dark takes many forms, old friend. I called it justice, but it was pure revenge. It took many years of meditation to even relent on any point of the plan."

Remembering his life, Luke looked sharply at his mentor. "And what part was abandoned?"

"Destroying you with the knowledge. I had planned to leave the Death Star with you, turn you even more against Vader, and send you against him, never telling you who he was. You would have lived a lauded life of heroism."

Luke saw Obi-Wan's hand come to rest on his father's knee. Unthinking, Anakin covered it with his own. The old hurts of mortal life had been set aside, forgiven if not forgotten, in the face of eternity.

"Go back, Luke. Love your mate. And love our grandsons." His parents, and how odd to think of that as including Ben, were gone. Yoda hobbled back over to sit with him. Luke sat a while longer, Yoda silent beside him.

"Master Yoda, what did he mean by a "product of the Force?""

"No human father had your father. Conceived by the Force he was on a slave-woman. Created by deliberate Force-manipulation you were. Your sons, unplanned, are they? Made by the Force out of your love for your mate? Loved him while thinking of children you did, yes?"

Luke remembered the night a few weeks earlier when he and Han had made love after yet another discussion of whether they should take Marni and Lissa up on their host-mother offer. His mind had wandered and he'd imagined what their children would be like, had one of them been female. He nodded at Yoda, a bit embarrassed.

A twinkle in the old Jedi's eyes told Luke that the gloom was lifting. "Knocked him up you did that night. Next time, your mind keep on where you are and what you are doing!" Yoda punctuated his words on Luke's chest with his gimer stick, then winked. "And mate, appreciate it he will too. Now come. Right they are, you know. Care about the living you should and not the dead."

"Master Yoda–"

"Kiss your Corellian often, you must. Helps the babies grow and ride easy it does. Even after born they are." Yoda faded. "And one for me, give him!" The creaky laughter followed Luke back into the reprocenter.

He recognized Han's aura, brighter than that of most non-Sensitives, but still no more than roughly human-shaped glow. Within it were a pair of bright spheres. They had no distinguishing features, just intensity.

As he watched, a second aura, slightly brighter than Han's and roughly female shaped, removed the sphere from Han and set them apart. They orbited each other slowly, singing. The second aura, Astri's, Luke realized, sang back.

Luke came up out of meditation in the waiting room. Astri stepped through the door and smiled at him.

"It all went just fine, Uncle Luke. The little ones are settled in nicely." She beckoned him in where Han was just starting to wake. A large transparasteel bubble sat near him, red and dark.

"Han, ak'usha'dan, wake up." Luke was at his side. "Take a look at what a neat job Astri did stitching you up." Han sat up, with a groan of pain.

"Astri, honey, hit me with the strongest drugs you have. Narcodrowse would do fine." Han was awake, and clear-eyed, biting down on the pain where his innards had been rearranged.

She hypo'd him quickly, and he sank back onto the padded table while it took effect. "You did fine, Uncle Han. You'll be pretty uncomfortable for a while. Don't fight it. I had to move half your insides around to get at your liver. They all went back in place, but you'll bruise. Take the painmeds as you need them."

"And Han, a'run, Ihr-ish-lan, sssskra," Luke paused in the litany of love-names he was scattering over his mate in lieu of kisses, "look!" He gestured to the globe beside the bed.

"They in there?"

"In and comfortable. All I hear is them singing in the Force."

Han couldn't see anything, but he suspected that would change in the coming months. "Hreik. Hren." The meds were making him sleepy.

"Wreak and rend?" Luke stared at him. "I'm sure they will do it to our lives. Lotta changes coming, my love."

"Hreik and Hren are legendary heros of Corellia. Brothers who could not be parted." Astri supplied, sterilizing her instruments. She came over and took Han's vitals. "They invented sailing boats, and discovered the Northern Archipelagoes. Uncle Han," she roused him, "I'm going to let you sleep here until morning. Then you'll need to go to Grandad's."

"Thanks, sweetheart. Been a helluva a day."

"See you in the morning." She left.

Luke sat in the comfortable chair beside the table watching his mate sleep and listening to the slow, steady artificial heartbeat that sustained their sons. The Force had not been thwarted, Han was out of danger.

"I'll take good care of them all," he promised his mentors, his fathers and Han as he settled down to wait out the night.


end