Luke Skywalker, the Last Jedi, faces his toughest challenge yet. After taking his Jedi vows, he assumes the misbelief that love has no place in his life. As a result, he denies the love he craves in order to establish the New Jedi Order and maintain...
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❶ Jedi Master Luke Skywalker waited in a dark cantina on Paqwepor Major, nursing a glass of the local juice. Meter-thick, ochre-plastered walls enclosed this seedy establishment. About a dozen stone steps led into the lounge from the busy street. Translucent titian veils dangled across the tall vestibule, diffusing the muted sunbeams to the patrons below.
Loud music played in the background, and a few patrons danced on the floor. If it were not for the gagging miasma of unwashed bodies, deathsticks, and cheap synswill saturating the air, Luke might have enjoyed his time away from the Padawan.
Luke scanned the establishment once more, looking for his contact. This spacer's bar hosted few locals. Most of the patrons were dressed like himself—in dark trousers and a vest. Padawan Jannah had selected his outfit for this mission. He wore a pair of loose-fitting, dark trousers with calf-high, tan boots. The high-necked, dark blue undershirt itched, and the heavy leather vest in tan added to the discomfort in the overheated cantina.
Naluma, on the other hand, filled out her clothing in all the right places. Luke found it difficult to focus on the mission every time he gazed at the bar. One year since Jakku. One year of a wide-opened Force-bond. One year of emotional intoxication. Can't imagine life without her.
He sipped the tart oi-oisberry juice, thinking over the past twelve months. Their bond had grown stronger over the intervening months. Both shielded every waking minute to keep the other out of his head. However, as much as he and Naluma were bound through the Force, they seldom enjoyed private time together.
The Padawan—great kids, all of them—but Naluma spends most of her time training them in saber, unarmed combat, and Force-work. And, now, for the first time in months, we're alone in the same room together and can't do anything about it. Figures.
Luke took a long draught of the juice, draining his glass. As he daydreamed about Naluma, his eyes wandered back to her. Jannah chose a black leather jumpsuit with aqua blue accents and chrome buckles. He followed the edges of the capped sleeves and the lapel trimmed with blue. The collar piping ran straight to her bodice. Arm greaves that ended in a sharp point near her elbow encased her forearms. Cuffed knee-high, black boots with silver buckles completed the ensemble.
While she faced the bar, he glimpsed the diamond cut-out in the back of her outfit as her long hair swayed. Wish she'd wear her hair down more often. I'd love to run my fingers through it while whispering in her ear...
Naluma leaned against the bar, conversing with patrons—a few humans, a Rodian, and a Twi'lek—all were male, and all interested in her body. Luke felt the lust emanating from them. He took a cleansing breath to control the desire to Force-choke them all.
