“Uncle Owen knew who I was: the son of Anakin Skywalker, whom most of you remember as Darth Vader. My uncle knew I had the potential to be a great Jedi, but he wanted to protect me. He tried to keep me from my dreams because of the risks I might encounter along the way. He was doing what he thought was best for me.
“My uncle was a sad man, with great guilt on his shoulders. He knew what Darth Vader had done, and—because he was afraid for me—he spent his life protecting me on that desert planet. His heart was in the right place… but if he had succeeded, think of the outcome: I would still be a moisture farmer on Tatooine, the Empire might still be in power, and there would be no Jedi Knights.”
Luke looked up. His eyes glittered in the firelight, though most of his body was cast in shadow. Perched on the stone blocks beside Jacen, Tenel Ka nodded. He sat closer to her as his uncle’s point became clear to him.
“Challenges and diversity make us strong. Too much protection can prevent us from learning, from reaching our potential. We can learn from others, but we must also learn from our own experiences… and our own mistakes,” Luke said. He smiled. “Just try not to make too many of them before you learn.”
Another figure emerged from the base of the temple, a young man with dark hair and squared shoulders dressed in a black jumpsuit and a cape.
The sleek Jedi outfit looked comfortable, serviceable, and well-worn.
“Master Skywalker is right. And some of us certainly made huge blunders before we managed to come back to the right course,” the young man said.
“This is Kyp Durron,” Luke announced with a broad grin, “one of my first students here at the Jedi academy, many years ago. Han Solo rescued him from the spice mines of Kessel, and he came here to learn the ways of the Force.”
Kyp nodded at the audience with a grim smile. Firelight splashed across his face. “I came here to learn, but I was impatient. I listened too closely to the spirit of an old Dark Lord of the Sith, Exar Kun, and I’m sorry to say I caused quite a bit of trouble for the new Jedi Knights.”
“Like me,” Zekk murmured.
“So did I,” another voice said as a second man emerged from the temple.
A nimbus of wild white hair floated around his head and fluttered above his thin beard. He wore a vest and breeches with so many pockets that Jacen thought he probably could have carried all the components for his own starship engine inside them.
“That’s Streen,” Jaina whispered, and Jacen immediately recognized the man. Once a cloud prospector on Bespin, the old hermit had developed an affinity for controlling the weather and the winds.
Luke said, “These two have been Jedi Knights for well over ten years now. They learned from their mistakes and their successes, and they’ve served the New Republic admirably.” Kyp Durron and Streen looked both powerful and exhausted, as if they had come through some terrible ordeal that had made them stronger—though neither seemed ready to tell the story.
“Looks like they’ve had some interesting adventures,” Jaina observed.
Lowie rumbled thoughtfully. Zekk nodded.
“I, for one, do not wish to hear about them,” Em Teedee said. “I’ve heard quite enough horrifying stories about Jedi adventures in Mistress Tionne’s legends.” The silvery-haired instructor was a Jedi scholar and minstrel, and had also been among Luke’s first trainees.
“Then I guess Tionne’ll just have to make up some songs about the new Jedi Knights,” Jacen said.
Tenel Ka nodded. “Soon there will be many Jedi Knights; we must remember our heroes.”
Jacen brought his finger close to the lizard again. It flashed its scarlet frill and raised up on its forelegs. The frill spread about the creature like a tiny cape. A sudden thought occurred to Jacen. He glanced over at his sister and knew she was thinking the same thing: Kyp Durron had been a very close companion of Han Solo’s.
“Think Dad knows Kyp is on Yavin 4?” Jaina said.
Jacen gave his sister a sly grin. “Well, there’s no reason we can’t send him a message. Hey, you never know — Dad might even come for a visit.”
2
As it turned out, Han Solo was already en route to Yavin 4 to visit his children when he got word of Kyp Durron’s arrival on the jungle moon.
Since he had just finished his business on Kashyyyk, he calculated the fastest possible route for the Millennium Falcon and, with a bit of fancy piloting, got there in record time.
With a discerning eye, Jaina watched the battered light freighter descend. She had spent plenty of time honing her own engineering skills and studying the mechanics of how starships worked. By now, the Falcon was one mass of repairs and replacement parts. Sections of new hull plating had replaced old blaster-scarred shields. She wondered how many—or how few—of the ship’s original components remained. Many fancier ships were available to Han Solo, but the Falcon held such a special place in his heart that Jaina knew her father would never get rid of it.
Jaina noted that the repulsorjets seemed stronger on the starboard side than on the port side, causing the Falcon to sway as it landed.
Fortunately her father was a superb pilot and knew full well how to compensate for any eccentricities of his beloved craft.
A flock of stubby-winged avians swept above the overgrown temple ruins toward the deep jungles. They flew in a triangular formation, emitting deep hooting sounds, like a broken Kloo horn. Jacen watched them pass.
Jaina could tell that he was trying to identify the species of bird—and probably wondering if he had ever caught one for his menagerie.
When the boarding ramp extended, Jacen and Jaina rushed across the weedy clearing, and Han Solo emerged from his ship wearing a big grin.
Jaina expected to see Chewbacca standing behind him, the tall, hairy form that her mother had once reportedly called a “walking car pet.”
Instead of the huge Wookiee, though, only her little brother came out.
Anakin was slight of build, quiet, and darkhaired, a year and a half younger than the twins. Their brother did not usually attend training sessions at the Jedi academy at the same times Jacen and Jaina did.
“Anakin!” Jacen said, and their younger brother beamed.
Jacen and Jaina hugged their father. At sixteen they both felt a bit old for such displays of affection, but Jaina got little enough time to see her father, and she enjoyed every moment of it.
“Hey, kids,” Han Solo said. “I was on my way here when I got your message. Your mom couldn’t break away from the Senate, but I got an interesting assignment and figured it was a good excuse for a Solo family outing.”
“Aw, and I thought you came just to see me,” Kyp Durron called, walking from the temple to the landing field and waving. The darkhaired Jedi Knight looked thoroughly refreshed now after a night’s rest and a change of clothes.
Streen had gone off by himself to enjoy the solitude of the jungle.
Jaina remembered that the old cloud prospector liked peace and quiet more than anything else.
Upon seeing his friend, with whom he’d gone through so many adventures back when the twins were just small children, Han Solo’s face lit up.
He came forward to clasp Kyp Durron in an enthusiastic embrace. “How you doin’, kid?” He pounded Kyp on the back.
Kyp smiled. “Not so much a kid anymore, Han.”
“Yeah, Dad—you’ve got kids of your own,” Jacen pointed out.
“And we’re hardly kids anymore either,” Jaina said.
Han gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “You’ll always be kids to me. All of you. Even your uncle Luke.” He seemed barely able to contain his excitement at seeing Kyp as they walked from the Falcon back toward the Great Temple. “What’ve you been up to? I haven’t seen you in… since, ah…”