Tales of the Gold Wookie, Part 5

The Falcon's engine started smoking less than an hour after their departure from Coruscant. Harry landed in a sheltered valley in the Austrian Alps that was mostly surrounded by trees and wildflowers. Leia would have admired the amazing view of green-peaked mountains and rolling green forests if she hadn't been ready to throw Harry out of the cockpit.

“I'm gonna shut down everything but the emergency power system.” Harry was already reaching into the back area for a box of tools. “Charel, check on the wiring in the cockpit. We're going to need that radar we bought in Germany working if we're going to avoid the Empire's flyboys.”

“Captain Solomon, is there anything I can do to help?” Clarence had already stripped off his mustard-yellow jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. “I'm not good with my hands, but I'm an excellent translator, and a highly organized secretary.”

“Here.” Harry tossed him a thick book. It's weight nearly knocked Clarence out of the Falcon. “See if you can translate the instructions for that get-up. I don't speak German, and Charel's is fragmented at best.”

“I speak...German...fluently!” Clarence buckled under the weight of the heavy booklet. “Charel...wait...for me!” He stumbled into the cockpit as Harry stuffed the tool box under his arm and jumped out.

The hood of the engine was already open when Harry got out. A pair of short but shapely legs in billowing khaki trousers and sensible brown shoes stuck out of one side. He was surprised at the long string of creative curses that emerged from the other end. Good little college girls usually didn't know that kind of language, or at least, the few that he'd ever known didn't. Then again, most normal college girls wouldn't have gone into a Fascist country that had forbidden outside visitors to retrieve a priceless artifact, either.

She was having problems moving an especially stubborn valve. A shiver went up his spine as he leaned over her to help, their bodies briefly touching. It was like electricity coursing through his skin. The moment didn't last long. Leia glared at him and pushed him away.

“Hey Princess,” he grumbled, “I'm only trying to help!”

Leia tried to ignore what had just passed between them, opting to focus on the stubborn valve. “Would you please not call me that? My godmother had a dog named Princess. I am not a dog.”

“Ok, Leia.” Harry shrugged. “You could be a little nicer, you know. I am the driver here. Sometimes, you think I'm all right.”

The valve finally clicked into place. She turned to him as she pulled out from under the hood, sucking her sore fingers. “Occasionally, maybe. When you aren't acting like a scoundrel.”

“Scoundrel.” Harry took her hands in his and rubbed them, his lazy smirk lighting up his face. “I like the sound of that.”

Leia's dark eyes flicked down to their entwined fingers. “Stop that.”

Harry was too busy gazing into those dark orbs to notice the nervousness in her voice. “Stop what?”

“Stop that. My hands are dirty.”

“My hands are dirty, too.” Harry leaned closer to her. “What are you afraid of?”

She wasn't resisting. “Afraid? I'm not afraid of anything!”

“You're trembling.” Harry's strong hands were now on her shoulders.

A breeze ruffled that flyaway lock of hair over Harry's forehead. Leia had to resist the urge to gently run her fingers through it. “I'm not trembling.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I'm no...” They kissed before Leia could finish protesting. It was...wonderful. Like nothing Leia had every felt before. The electricity charged through her veins, made her feel reckless. She pulled closer to him, kissing even harder.

“Sir! Captain!” Clarence just had to pick that moment to poke his head out of the cockpit. “Charel and I have isolated the reverse power coupling! The radar is working beautifully!”

The look on Harry's face would have killed Clarence instantly if it had been a bolt of lightning. “Thank you, professor,” he snapped. “Thank you very much.”

Clarence was immune to sarcasm. “Oh, you're perfectly welcome.”

Harry turned around to see if Leia was up to another kiss...but when he reached for her, she was gone. She had already ducked into the main cabin. He sighed and headed for the cockpit. They'd talk about this later, after he found a safe place to get some better repairs on his baby.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It took a few hours, but they finally got back into the air. Leia sat in the front cockpit with Harry and Charel as they flew over Vienna. Clarence was napping in the seats behind them. “We need to find the second sword.” She looked up from her uncle's notes as Charel consulted a slightly tattered map. “Papa Bail and Dr. Mothma have said they think the Sword of Wisdom may have been stolen from the temple by thieves and sold on the black market. Papa Bail and his people have the map to the temple, but only the Sword of Light was there. The Sword of Strength may be buried elsewhere, but the Sword of Wisdom wasn't where it should be.”

Charel growled, running his cigar-sized fingers along the southern edge of France. “Yeah, that's an idea, buddy.” Harry leaned around his friend's considerable bulk. “Laurence.”

“Laurence?” Leia peered around his other side. “Is that a town?”

“It's not a town. It's a man. Laurence Carlyle.” Harry gave her his little smirk. “Card player, gambler, scoundrel. You'd like him.”

Charel waved his hand Leia's notes, then at the map. “He's right.” Harry leaned back thoughtfully in his chair. “If anyone knows where the sword is, it's Larry. He knows the international black market inside and out. He's dealt with it a lot over the years. Probably how he was able to fund that crazy wardrobe of his. If he hasn't sold it himself, he'll know someone who might have an idea of who did.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes, reading over the map as Charel moved his hand. “Bespin, in the South of France? Is that where he is?”

“Yeah. Some resort town on the water near Nice. Larry conned somebody-or-other out of this big old hotel and nightclub, Hotel Ville Du Neige. He used to be a smuggler, before he got into the hotel racket. We go back a long way, Larry and me.”

Charel nudged him and waved his big hand at the sides of the plane, his booming bass nearly shaking the controls. “That job with Beckett and Clara was a long time ago. I'm sure he's forgotten about that.” The towering Russian navigator made a face, slapping a paw at the controls. “Ok, so the Falcon's not as pretty as she used to be. We'll stop somewhere in France and get her cleaned up before we go down there.”

Leia looked up from her notes. “Doesn't sound like this man is willing to talk to you. Can you trust him?”

“No.” Harry checked his radar as they dipped in low over the rolling hills just beyond Vienna. “But he has no love for Coruscant politics, I can tell you that.” He turned to his navigator. “See if you can get Larry on the radio, or at least the nearest airport to Bespin, and clear us for landing.”

Charel nodded and managed to push his way out of the cracked leather seat before he head to the back. Leia leaned around Harry's chair. “You do have your moments,” she said after giving him a kiss on his cheek. “Not many of them, but you do have them.”

Harry was actually kind of glad Leia went in the back with her notes after that. She couldn't see him turn a bright shade of scarlet. Clarence continued to snore behind him as they soared over the tree-tops and the country roads.

If Harry had looked down at that moment, he would have seen a familiar green and red truck just off the highway, almost hidden by a grove of old pine trees. A tall man in a pin-striped suit and wide-brimmed green hat leaned over the radio in the grimy and potato peel-covered vehicle.

“They're flying just outside of Vienna now, Mr. Vader.” Roberto Fettara's keen dark eyes remained focused on the silvery shape in the distance as it turned to the south. “I think I have an idea where they're going. Solomon has an old buddy in the South of France, Larry Carlyle. I've had a few run-ins with him myself over the years. Considering how often that rig of his breaks down, you might be able to get there before he does...”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Artie raised a thick eyebrow. “Are you sure this is it?” The Victorian house in San Francisco, just outside of Chinatown, was hardly the type of place Luke thought a legendary professor and archaeologist would call home. Pale pink paint was weathered and faded; the ornate gingerbread trim on the roof was slightly chipped. Threadbare gingham curtains allowed sunlight through spotless windows. If he squinted, he could see a tiny garden in a plot of land behind a weathered wood fence.

“This is the address Ben gave me.” Luke had been knocking on the door for at least five minutes. The neighbors on either side of him were starting to stare. “Yoda? Dr. Chiang? Hello? My name is Luke Skylark! Ben Kenobi sent me! Are you there?”

Artie peered through the windows. “Maybe he went to the market, kid.”

Luke sighed. “You're probably right. I guess I should have called him, but Ben never said if he had a telephone or not.”

“May I help you?” Luke and Artie nearly jumped a mile. “ Lost, you look. Directions, you need.” Luke looked all around him, but he didn't see anything...until he saw Artie lean over and hug something short.

“Yoda!” The pugnacious chauffeur grinned, ruffling the filmy strands of white hair. “You old cuss! Why didn't you wait for us?”

“Didn't know when you were coming.” Artie's thick arms were wrapped tightly around a tiny man in an old gray suit. His wizened face had a slightly greenish cast, his long ears and pursed lips giving him the look of a short elf from Tolkien, or a tiny old troll. His voice was an odd gruff sing-song. “Just bought things for lunch. Hope you enjoy Hot and Sour Soup and milk bread buns.”

Artie rubbed his stomach. “Old man, I'm so hungry, I could eat a plate, never mind what's on it.”

Luke couldn't have been more surprised. “You're Yoda? Dr. Chiang? Ben said you knew everything about Alderaanian culture and the Jedi. You don't...look...like one of the Jedi.”

“I was a Jedi, yes, a long time ago.” The little man opened up the front screen door. “Not anymore. Not after Vader destroyed them.”

“Tell me more.” Luke whipped out his notepad as he followed Yoda in. “From what Ben was talking about, there's a story here. What did Vader do? Why are there no more Jedi?”

“Destroy them, he did. Murdered them one by one, in ways that looked like accident.” Yoda made his way through the cluttered hallway to a small kitchen, with a heavy iron stove and boxy white drawers under the counter. The old man pulled out wicked-sharp knives in a variety of shapes and sizes and started slicing onions.

Luke admired his collections. He'd never seen so many artifacts in one place outside of museums and the Coruscant Armory. “Did you ever do any digging?” Most of the items were small – pottery, small knives or spears, small statues, fragments of dishes and cups. There was even a full suit of Alderaanian Jedi armor, complete with dusty feathers made to resemble the head of the mythical Phoenix. “You have so much here! Leia would go crazy! How come none of this is in a museum?”

“Personal collection, it is,” Yoda sing-songed from the kitchen. “All artifacts go to University of California when I die. Worked there for many years, I did, between digs. Retired twenty years ago, but friends there, I have.”

Artie waved Luke over to a series of heavy dark wooden frames sitting on a table covered in a bright fringed paisley scarf. “Kid, you gotta see this. Ol' Doc Chiang knew everybody back in the day.” He held up a slightly faded sepia-toned photo of a quartet at the foot of a massive stone wall. “That's your mom right there.” His fat finger brushed the face of a lovely young woman in a loose white dress with a high waist and a skirt to her ankles. “Padme was a real beauty, inside and out. She was smart. She went to college. Not many ladies did in those days. But she had class, and she had style.” Her flower-bedecked straw hat was set at a jaunty angle, as if to defy the very ruggedness of its surroundings.

Luke ran his finger over the glass, as if he could bring her back just with his touch. “I wish I'd known them, Artie.” He looked over his shoulder at the squat Negro man. “What were they like? You worked for them.”

“They were good folks, your parents.” Artie looked everywhere but at Luke. “Andy had a temper. He'd start an argument with anyone who would listen, but there was no one who was as loyal as him. You were his friend, you were his friend for life.”

Artie pointed to a figure with his arm draped around Padme. “That was him.” The young man's eyes never left the gangling, light-haired figure. He was a very handsome man, with wavy gold hair and a scar across his right eye. He must have made all the girls crazy in his day. “And there's ol' Kenobi. He was a real square in those days, kid. Used to have an ulcer every other week over Andy's antics in the jungle.” Ben, while also handsome, was a study in contrasts. His perfectly barbered hair and beard and tight tweed suit was about as far from Andrew's casual khaki shirt, trousers, and thick leather work boots as one could get.

Luke whipped out his notebook again. “I want to avenge all of them. Father, Mother, Ben. I want to bring down Vader and Dark Star Industries, and the Empire, too.” He jotted down something in his notebook. “Did Vader work with Father? Did they know each other at UCLA?”

Artie sighed. “I think somethin' happened durin' the war, kiddo. When Andy came home from Europe, he wasn't the same. He was totally obsessed with finding Alderaan and those swords for the Empire. He argued more with everyone – Padme, Ben, Bail, Ahsoka Tano, Owen. He spent most of his time either on his dig or his offices in LA. He got really paranoid and secretive.” His squeaky voice went down slightly. “Look, kid, there's something I really have to tell you...”

“Lunch time, it is!” Yoda came out with a lacquered tray. “Hot and sour soup for you, with milk buns and salad. Vegetables are good for you. Good for Jedi's muscles and coordination.”

“Smells good.” Luke sipped the spicy-hot broth and winced, adding salt to soften it a bit. “How long before we can talk? I need to find out everything you know about Vader and Palpatine and the Jedi.”

“Not long.” Yoda took sips that were so tiny, they barely qualified as eating. “Patience. Soon, you will know.”

“How soon?” Luke finally threw down his spoon. “I don't know what I'm doing here. I should be tracking down Vader and figuring out what he's planning on doing with those swords. We're wasting our time!”

“Kid has a point.” Artie was nearly drinking his soup. “By the way, this stuff is really good. You ever thought of opening a restaurant?”

“I can't help him. No one can.” Yoda shook his head into the air. “The boy has no patience. His sister is even worse.”

“Was I any different when Quenton taught me?” Luke nearly fell out of his chair. That was Ben's voice! He looked desperately around the dim living room, hoping for a glimpse of him. “I learned patience. So will they and Solomon.”

“They're too old,” Yoda grumbled. “Too old to be trained in the ways of Jedi.” He poked his gnarled walking stick at Luke. “This one and his sister, a long time have I watched. She fights. He dreams. She looks to the past. He looks to the future. Never their minds on where they are! What they're doing!” The young reporter rubbed his chest in annoyance where he was poked. “You two are reckless! Just like your father!”

“I won't fail you.” Luke's intense gaze held every intention of keeping that promise. “We're not afraid.”

“Good.” Yoda smirked. “You will be. You will be.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The Falcon went down twice with a smoking engine in the next two days. On one hand, she was frustrated that they weren't getting where they were going faster. Leia suggested to Harry after they went down the second time near Grenoble that they abandon the plane and take a train to Bespin..

“She'll be fine.” Harry waved away the smoke and handed her a wrench. “Just needs a few tweaks, that's all.”

It wasn't all bad. They'd spent a lot more time together. Harry would put his arm around her and draw her close while they worked together on the engine, and she almost didn't mind. Grease and engine oil and the dry dust of hangar floors never smelled so good. He was rather sweet, when his ego wasn't taking up whole planets. He and Charel were even teaching her how to fly a plane.

She spent her evenings with Clarence aboard the ship, trying to figure out from her uncle's notes and articles where the Sword of Wisdom was taken after it was stolen. At one point, she called Dr. Mothma from the house of the mayor of the small town outside of Grenoble they were staying in. He was the proud owner of the only telephone in town.

“We've been doing some research here as well.” Papers shuffled on Dr. Mothma's end. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Dr. Organa said in his reports that he believed the Sword of Wisdom had been looted in antiquity, as it was not with the other sword when it was found. The Sword of Strength was also missing, but may be in another location on the grounds.”

“That's what I got from his maps here. He left a pretty detailed trail.” Leia closed her eyes. “The Sword of Wisdom was on the black market. I don't know by whom. Harry has a friend whom he says is familiar with the antiquities market and may be able to help us out.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “Dr. Mothma, could you do some research on a Laurence or Larry Carlyle? Something about all this doesn't smell right. I think there's a reason he extended that invitation, and it may or may not have to do with the Sword of Wisdom.”

“All right. I'll see if anyone here in LA recognizes that name. I'm friendly with the head of the western branch of the FBI. He may have heard a few things.” Dr. Mothma's voice dropped a little. “Leia, please be careful. We heard about the fire at the Coruscant Armory and about Ben Kenobi's death. Your brother apparently called in the story. It was all over the Star today. There may be more than a couple of Imperials who want to keep you from finding that sword.”

“I'll be all right, Dr. Mothma. I can take care of myself,” Leia insisted with more confidence than she felt. “Tell Aunt Breha that Luke and I are fine, and we'll be home as soon as we have the swords.”

“I will.” Dr. Mothma's voice didn't sound convinced. “I'll see you when you get home. Good luck!”

“Thanks!” Leia just dropped the phone on the receiver when Harry sauntered over, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He stuck the rag in his pocket. “The engine's in as good of shape as it's likely to get. I'll see if I can have it looked at when we get to Bespin.”

“I'm ready.” Leia stuffed her papers under one arm. “Shall we? I need to finish studying Papa Bail's notes, and you did promise me another flying lesson.”

“Sure, sweetheart.” He kissed her on the forehead. She tried not to shiver with pleasure. “Between the two of us and Char, we'll be in Bespin in no time.”

She wanted to tell him her feelings then, that there was something that just felt wrong about all this...but then he kissed her on the lips, his arms winding around her shoulders. Her legs turned to jelly, and her mind went blank. “Um, yeah. Let's get going.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was 24 hours later when they finally touched down on the air field a few miles outside of Bespin. It took them two hours just to get clearance to land. “I thought you knew this person,” Leia complained as he haggled with the air traffic control managers.

“That was a long time ago.” Harry frowned at Charel's long bark. “I'm sure he's forgotten all about what I did to the Falcon with Clara and Beckett.”

Charel growled again in his language, his thick brown mustache rustling. “What happened in the Kessel Pass wasn't my fault! If it wasn't for me, we never would have gotten out of there!” Harry grinned and leaned back as the control tower operator gave them the go to land. “Thank you.” He turned his smirk to a concerned Leia. “Don't worry, sweetheart. We go way back, Larry and me.”

Leia frowned. “Who's worried?”

There was a welcoming committee at the small air field just outside of Bespin, one of the many small towns catering to the rich and bored between Cannes and Nice. A handsome man with skin the color of rich coffee sported a pale blue and yellow suit and straw trilby. His midnight curls were slicked back with some shiny substance. Men in blue uniforms with gold braiding surrounded him. A taller, balding man in a simpler blue suit and sunglasses stood nonchalantly to his right.

“You double-crosser!” The man glared at Harry as he and his crew came down from the Falcon. “You have a lot of guts showing up here, after everything you've pulled.

Harry put up his arms, his big hazel eyes widening. Leia would have snickered at his attempt at innocence if the situation wasn't so intense. She was sure he hadn't been innocent since he was in short pants. Possibly not even then.

After a few minutes, the other man in the dashing suit finally broke into a wide smile. “You old pirate! How are you doing? What brings you to my neck of the woods, anyway?”

“Repairs, and a few questions.” Harry jutted a thumb at the Falcon. “She's been acting out. Charel swears the spirit of your ex-girlfriend is still in the engine somewhere and is causing trouble.”

His well-dressed friend made a face. “Have you been damaging my ship again?”

“Your ship?” Harry glared at him. “Remember, you lost her to me in that poker game in Havana fair and square, pal.”

“Maybe.” The moment Laurence saw Leia, he pushed past Harry and made a beeline for her hand, kissing it gallantly. “Well hello, what do we have here? Welcome to Bespin, fair maiden. My name is Laurence Carlyle, the owner of the Ville Du Nuege Resort and Casino on the Cote D' Azur. And who might you be?”

Leia was almost enjoying the look of pure jealousy on Harry's face. “Leia Skylark, Mr. Carlyle. I have a few questions I need to ask you about the international antiquities black market. There's a certain piece I'm trying to locate, and Captain Solomon has spoken highly of your knowledge on the subject.”

Laurence's smile was blinding enough for a Pepsodent ad. “You came to the right place, Miss Skylark. Why don't we all go back to the Ville Du Nuege and discuss this over iced coffee? It'll be my treat.”

He was about to take her arm, but Harry moved in quickly and blocked him. “All right,” he chucked, though his smile was slightly strained. “You old smoothie.”

Laurence opted to join Charel instead. Leia was surprised to hear him speak fluent Russian to the hulking navigator. “Some of my workers are Russian,” he explained when Leia asked him about it. “They were driven out of the country after the Revolution. I've been learning the language from them.”

“How is the hotel business coming for you anyway, buddy?” Harry put an arm around Laurence. “You look good. Sea air must be working for you.”

“I always did like living by the sea. It's good for my complexion.” Laurence shook his head. “Wish the hotel business was. The Depression's been rough on the hospitality business, even here. This place is pretty small, and we're trying to compete with the larger palaces up in Cannes and Nice. And I've had supply problems of every kind, what with the Nazis and the Empire in the area, I've had labor difficulties...” Laurence looked up as Harry laughed. “What's so funny?”

“Listen to you! You're going on like a real businessman there, or a leader, or something.” Harry slung an arm around him. “Who would have thought that when we were tooling around in Nevada with Clara and Beckett and Leslie, huh?”

“Yeah.” Laurence shrugged. “I'm responsible these days. It's the price you pay for being successful.”

Leia was getting more entertainment out of watching these two than she had out of the last Clark Gable movie she'd seen with Luke. She was too busy watching them to pay attention to Clarence, who had wandered off into the hangar, muttering about having seen someone moving around back there. She would swear later that she never heard Clarence's yell, or the gunshots, before they entered Laurence's Rolls Royce and a second Mercedes.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Luke had never learned so much in his life. He was currently interviewing Yoda at Golden Gate Park, in a quiet section of the Japanese Tea Garden. Yoda had given him information for at least five or six articles. No wonder Leia loved learning about culture. Not only did he know about Alderaan and the Force, but he'd been involved in the Great War and had worked with movie studios in the early 20's, advising the likes of DW Griffith on the historical accuracy of their period films.

“Listen to me, they often did not.” Yoda sniffed. “Movies like 'Tarzan the Mighty' would say they want to be accurate, but ignore me when it did not suit their silly stories.”

Luke was scribbling like mad. “How long have you been a Jedi?”

“Shh!” Yoda waved his little hands. “Powers are secret. All but gone, the Jedi are.” He looked around. The park was quiet. Even Artie had gone to get drinks. “Killed off one by one, they were, made to look like accidents. Vader wanted no one to stop him from taking swords and their powers for himself and Chancellor Palpatine.”

“How long has he worked for Palpatine?” Luke licked the tip of his pencil. “When did he steal Father's work? I know he did. We saw some of his missing items at the Coruscant Armory. How long has the Empire been covering up the deaths and his thefts?”

The little man put up a clawed hand. “So many questions, young one! Perhaps,” he added, “it's time you thought on them.”

Luke followed him as he got up from the bench and made his way to a soft patch of grass. To his surprise, Yoda was easily able to turn over and stand on one gnarled hand. “Meditate, young one. Good for us, it will be. Find out what Vader has planned next, we will.”

“Hi, boys.” Artie came over, carrying three paper cups. “Here's your orders from the concession stand. I have coffee for the kid and me, and green tea for Yoda. At least, I think it's green tea. It looks brownish to me.” He raised a thick eyebrow. “What is he doing, and how is he doing it?”

“The Force, I think.” Artie's eyebrows went up even further as Luke handed him his notebook and got on his own hands, with a little more difficulty than Yoda. A soft green light surrounded both men. “All right, Professor, I'm on my hands. Now what?”

“Focus, you must,” Yoda croaked. “Images will flow into your mind, but only when you focus on the moment.”

Luke shut his eyes hard and tried to focus on anything but putting his weight on his hands and not falling. “I see...” He murmured... “I see a city by the water. Very clear, turquoise water, with pebbly beaches and palm trees and big, fancy hotels.”

Yoda barely nodded. “Friends you have there. Your sister is there.”

“They're in pain!” Luke's eyes flew open, his green light waving. “Vader's there! He...Harry and Leia...he's hurting Harry...he's going to...no!” With that last “no,” the young man toppled to the ground, taking Yoda with him.

“Hey!” Artie just barely dodged his legs. “Careful, kiddo! Are you ok?” He put the drinks on a bench and went to Luke's side. “What happened there? What was all that about Harry and Leia?”

“Yoda, they were in pain!” Luke's bright blue eyes were haunted. “Vader hurt them! Took Harry's powers! There were other people...a woman, a man in green...I've seen him before...a Negro in a fancy suit...”

Artie shook his shoulder. “Did you see Clarence?”

“No. I saw Charel...he carried something.” Luke chewed his lip. “He screamed something in Russian. I didn't understand it. Leia's the one who's interested in foreign languages.” His sweet face was as white as the sugar lumps Artie had put aside for their drinks. “I have to leave. Now. We need to find a plane that will take us to them as soon as possible.”

“It is the future you see.” Yoda shook his head. “If you leave now, help them you could, but...you may destroy all that they have fought for and suffered.”

“The hell he will, old man.” Artie glared at him. “You can back out if you want, but I'm with the kid. I'm not about to let An...Vader hurt anyone else. He's done enough damage over the years already.” Luke wanted to ask Artie what he was going to call Vader originally, but finally decided to drop it. The short black man was upset enough over his missing friend as it was.

“Then go with you, I will.” Yoda leaned on his stick. “Help, I can. Help with your sister's work. Decipher ancient Alderaanian language, I can. Like a second language, it is. Know of the culture, I do.” He stood a little straighter. “Fight, I can. If you will not listen, I will keep you from trouble.”

Artie chuckled. “The son of Andrew Skylark? I don't know if that's possible, old man.”

“We'll leave as soon as we can figure out where Leia is. Wedge may still be around. I could go to the hangar and talk to him, or try to call Dr. Mothma at UCLA. She may have heard from her.” Luke snatched his coffee so hard, some of the hot liquid nearly sloshed back out. “Come on. We have to save my sister and my best friend from a monster.”

Artie stopped Yoda on his way down the path. “How much does the kid know?”

“About his father? Nothing, he knows.” The old man looked up at Artie with his dark almond-shaped squint. “Thank you for keeping secret, friend. Hard enough it will be when he does find out...for find out, he will.”

“I would have told them years ago, but Ben and Bail wouldn't let me. They were afraid Andy would come after them.” Artie made a face. “Clarence doesn't know. At least, I don't think he does. He doesn't remember where his head is most of the time.”

“Just as well, it is. Fewer who know, the better.” Yoda nodded at Luke, who was already storming ahead. “Prepared, the young Skylarks must be. Work with both of them, I will.”

Artie frowned. “I hope you know what you're doin'. That kid could be the last hope the Jedi have.”

“No,” Yoda said softly. “There's another.”