9 Apr 1999

---



I breathed the cool night air of the sanctuary moon and let my mind explore

the world around me.  The Force centered me, connected me to the life 

that filled the forest.  And the Force told me also of the death here,

of the many who had died.





A little farther, and Father's death was there.  Farther still, and the

Emperor's death.





The party inside was winding down.  Mothers with their soft furry children 

had gone to sleep long ago; the Rebels paired off and disappeared, two by

two, perhaps to make love in the dark, perhaps simply to sleep in the 

comfort of one another's arms.  Han and Leia were still inside, waiting for

me, as I was waiting for them.





Neither of them have my patience, a Jedi-trained patience, honed into a 

weapon of the mind.





Eventually they came to me, uncertain and nervous.  My former lover, and my 

sister, their eyes worried.  I smiled at them gently and told them how

happy I was that they had found each other.





After all, Han and I had used each other for comfort.  After all, it was I

who did the leaving, when the comfort of his body was no longer enough, 

when Dagobah offered me the comfort of discipline.  After all, he had

forgiven me for leaving quickly--mourning, perhaps, the loss of release

but not the loss of a friend.  We were still friends, cemented together

now by my sister as well as by life and death.  That, if nothing else about

today, comforted me.





That, and the knowledge that my father was, at last, safe.  Was finally

back where he was always meant to be.  Two comforts is more than I 

expected from the ashes of victory.





They said good night and left quickly, their arms linked.  I reached 

out to touch the life of the sanctuary moon, letting the Force flow 

through me, touch me as intimately as a lover, support me and guide me.



Where it would guide me, I no longer knew.  Earlier, I had nearly followed

my heart to my own destruction.  Now, I gave myself over to the Force.  

Both sides of the Force, the dark and the light, demand surrender.  That is

the paradox of the Jedi: our strength comes from willing surrender, from

admitting our own weakness.



It is the way of the universe that it is easier to submit to fear and hate

than to joy and love.  We feel unworthy of love; we feel we do not deserve

joy.  Father found the dubious pleasures of the dark more compelling 

than submission to love.



I cannot bring myself to blame him.  I almost became him.  And then I 

offered him the only comfort I could: "I am a Jedi, like my father before

me."  The comfort of filial love, despite everything between us.  Despite 

the hate.



It was enough.



He died for me.  He died surrendering himself to the light.  He died

because the only comfort I offered him was the only kind he still 

understood.



He died, leaving me once again the last of the Jedi.  I no longer wish

to count the number of times I have been orphaned.  The Force answers me,

demands my surrender to the knowledge.



Once, by my parents.

Twice, by Uncle Owen's silence.

Thrice, by my aunt and uncle.

Four times, by Ben.

Five, by Vader's words.

Six, by Yoda.

Seven, by Ben's untruth.

Eight, by my father, lost and found and lost again.



The last of the Jedi.  The Force demands that I listen, and I do listen.

My own desperation answers me.  I wanted so desperately not to be the last,

not to be alone, that I decided to turn Father rather than kill him.



Confrontation is not the same as battle, is not the same as a duel to the 

death.  Ben betrayed his lack of insight on Dagobah: "Then the Emperor 

has already won."  He could not see any resolution but conflict.  I knew

I could not kill my father.



The moment I made that decision, I had already won.



The moment I made that decision, I knew why Ben had lost Father.  Ben's

submission only went so far, and his student had recognized him for 

what he was.  And so his student had become his enemy and his killer.



If Ben had lived, he would have lost me as well.  In the end, he realized

this himself.  In the end, he submitted utterly, and lost his life.



In losing, he won back both of his students, though it was years before the

first of them knew it.



I felt someone near me, and opened my eyes.



Lando stood by me, the light from the structure behind him outlining him

in gold.  "You all right, Commander?"



"I'm fine, sir."



"That's funny."



"What is?"



"You calling me 'sir.'  It's not right, somehow."



"You do outrank me, General."



"Don't remind me."  He gripped the low guardrail and swung down to sit on 

the edge of the walkway.  We stayed like that for a while, just listening

to the sounds of the forest.



He began to lean against my legs, his head resting above my knee, one

arm wrapped around my calf.  "We almost didn't make it out," he said,

quietly.



"It's good that you did.  Han might have forgiven you for dying, but not

for the Falcon."



"I didn't mean just the Falcon."



We were silent again.  I was unsure of how to respond.  Eventually, I said,

"Aren't you going to get some sleep?"



"Everyone's pairing off, and the only person I'm interested in has other

concerns."



"Ah."



Once again, the silence claimed us.



"I meant you almost didn't make it out, either.  You and I.  Neither of 

us should have survived."



I smiled out into the night.  So that is how it was.  The sanctuary moon,

indeed.  Sanctuary, comfort--



"You and I both understand destiny, Lando."  I let my hand drift from 

the guard-rail to his hair.  "We did not know that it was 

not our day to die, but we understood what we had to do.  We know that

sometimes there are things we must do."  I stroked his hair gently, 

feeling the softness and coarseness of it against my fingers.  "The

Force is strong in this place," I said.  "So much life.  So much death."



"What is the Force like?"



I sat down next to him, leaving my hand tangled in his hair.  "I don't 

think I can explain it.  My teachers tried to tell me, and failed.  

It's...have you ever had sex so wonderful that you could feel 

everything your partner was feeling, that you were them, just for 

a moment?"



"No."



"The Force is like that.  You are the universe, and the universe is you.

It's surrendering yourself to that feeling, all the time."



"Hell."  His voice had dropped to a whisper.  "No wonder the Jedi are 

celibate."



I turned my head sharply in surprise.  "Whatever gave you the idea that we

were?"



He simply stared at me, almost horrified.



"We're not.  It would be irresponsible to be celibate.  Life and living 

create the Force.  Submitting to love and joy and--and all that sex

offers--Lando, we'd have to be crazy to be celibate."  



He still looked shocked.



"During training, certainly--it's part of the discipline.  But my father

was a Jedi.  The Force is strong in my family."



He was no longer shocked.  Rather, he was considering something.  "So,

you're not celibate?"



I smiled at him.  His desire was transparent, beautiful, comforting.  Oh,

this comfort I could live with.  "I haven't had a lover in over a year,

but no, I'm not celibate.  Not by choice, anyway."



He nodded, but didn't answer.  I could almost hear his mind working behind

his eyes.  



I leaned close to him, until our mouths almost touched.  His breath was 

warm against my skin.  "I can offer you many things, Lando.  Give in to

your feelings.  Submit to your desire."



He trembled slightly, but did not move away.  "Lando," I whispered, "you

already know submission to destiny.  This is the same thing, if you will

only admit it."  I tightened my fingers in his hair.



Still he did not move.



So I pulled him to me, kissed him softly and felt his lips part under 

mine.  His mouth was warm and his body hard against mine and his arms 

around me were real and solid.  I slid my free arm around his waist and

drew him closer.



He may be larger than I am, and he may be older, but he is not a 

Force-taught sensualist.  And there is nothing I love so well as the

pleasure I gain from pleasuring another.  He tensed against me, afraid

of his lack of control, and I twisted, pushing him down on his back.



I broke the kiss and studied him.



"You aren't the kid I rescued from Cloud City, are you?"



"I never was, Lando.  You never knew me when I was a kid.  Ask Han 

about it sometime."



He grinned up at me.  "So why did Vader want you?  No one ever told me."



I drew back and frowned.  "You won't like the answer."



"Tell me anyway."



"He was my father."



He hissed softly between his teeth.  "Ssss.  I'm sorry, Luke.  Hell."



"In a manner of speaking.  Shall we adjourn to someplace less public?"



He grinned again, his easy rogue's grin, so much like Han's.  "I'm all

yours."



I took him to an empty treehut, its usual occupant one of the wounded

in the makeshift hospital below the village.  "How do you know?" Lando asked.



"I went down to help treat the wounded earlier, before the medical droids

arrived.  I helped her and she offered me the use of her home in return."



"Oh."



I smiled at him.  "I don't use the Force for everything.  Hands exist for

a reason, after all."



He slid a hand down my back.  "Yes, I suppose they do."



"Lando."



"Yes?"



"I am not sure what I'm looking for."



"You aren't the only one."



I tangled fingers into his hair again and turned to face him.  

"Well, then."  I kissed him again, tasting his mouth.  Tasting him,

sweet and sour with life and death and apprehension and--there it

was--fear.  Jedi were an unknown to him, as alien to him as Dagobah had

been to a boy raised on Tatooine.



He tugged the glove from my artificial hand.  The damage from the blaster

was still there, char-marks and grey metal marring the smooth skin.

He kissed the palm and drew the fingers into his mouth one by one, then

released me.



"Luke, I--"



"I shall stop your mouth," I said, and kissed him, fumbling with the 

fasteners on his shirt.  He reached for the half-open seam of mine and 

I let go of him to shrug it off while he removed his own.



By silent assent, we stripped then, quickly.  Needing the comfort of

each other, the sanctuary of sex and affection that this place so

generously offered us.



I pressed him down on the bed and opened myself to the Force.  "Feel it,"

I said.  "Feel the Force, and me and you within it."



I could see in his eyes that he did.  "Think of it this way, Lando.

Is it any easier to love a Corellian than to love a Jedi?"  He laughed

at that, and I felt him relax.  "We need this comfort.  We both need

this."



He rolled against me and wrapped his arms around my waist, the friction

of his sex on my leg as sweet as surrender.  I felt the Force around me,

in me, guiding me towards him as inexorably as it demanded my submission.



I am unworthy of such joy, but it is with joy I submit tonight, the last

of the Jedi seeking comfort in the forest of the sanctuary moon.