Chapter Text
“You’re still awfully good at hurting yourself, I see,”
Luke smiled, wincing only a little when Wolffe drug the bacta patch over the blackened skin on this thigh from where a stray blaster shot had hit him. It had only been a small number of droids on the ship–nothing more than a platoon–and as soon as it crashed into the desert sand with a chunk ripped out of its hull Luke took off towards it without waiting for backup. It had felt good to just—let loose. To let the Force flow through him without restraint. To rip and tear and shred without worry about hurting someone. To let everything out in an explosion of violence instead of a small trickle.
It had felt a little too good.
“I learned from you,” Luke said.
Wolffe shot him a look.
Luke just smiled a little wider.
He knew the Mand’alor had followed after him as Luke ran towards the ship, but by the time he had gotten there Luke had already taken care of it. The only thing left to do was to rip out all the drives and hardware so the Republic couldn’t continue to monitor them through the hidden systems in the droids, and despite Luke’s little display the Mand’alor had insisted on his own people doing it.
Luke couldn’t blame him.
He had taken out those droids because he wanted to. Not because he wanted to help the Mand’alor.
“You’re a menace,” Wolffe said, not unkindly. He was a little gentler this time as he swiped the bacta patch over the wound one last time, clearing away the last of the charred skin. Then, satisfied that it was clean, Wolffe put a fresh bacta patch over it and taped it down. Luke bit his cheek at the sting of the bacta seeping into the raw skin and exposed muscle, but he didn’t say anything.
Considering that Luke took down a platoon of droids all by himself in a matter of minutes, it was nothing short of a miracle that a single blaster shot was the only wound he had sustained.
Wolffe’s discarded com crackled before sputtering to life as Luke was rolling his pant leg back down.
They both turned to look at it.
“Wolffe, I need you back in the throne room, now,” The Mand’alor’s voice sounded tense as it filtered through the tiny unit. Tense and quiet. “Bring Luke.”
The com cut off.
Luke glanced at Wolffe and tilted his head. Considering what he had just done, it could be just about anything.
“You go on ahead,” Wolffe said, holding out a hand to help Luke up. “I’ll catch up.”
They both pretended that his leg wasn’t shaking.
—
Din had expected shouting. Yelling. Screaming. Anything. Because with the way Cody was acting there wasn’t anyone else this could be except for Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi Cody served under during the clone wars. He had thought it would be like when Luke saw Cody again, loud and angry and full of hurt. What Din had not expected the eerie silence that fell over the room as Cody and Obi-Wan stared at each other.
There were no words.
Not for a long time.
“I—“ Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again with an audible click of his teeth.
Cody flinched and took a step back.
“Cody—“ Obi-Wan breathed out, disbelieving and so full of a heartbreakingly hesitant hope.
“Uncle Ben?” And there was Luke, rounding the corner with wide eyes. Din couldn't help but notice he was favoring his right leg—the one that hadn’t been shot with a blaster. Din had Wolffe rush him off to medical as soon as the last droid was down, but it seems he wasn’t quick enough for the bacta to work as efficiently as it should have. Din frowned, stomping down the urge to rush over to him and check over the blaster wound.
Luke wasn’t a child that needed constant looking after. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, which he had been more than happy to display after Din let him out of the Force cuffs. Luke would just shove him away anyway. There wasn’t any point in it.
Obi-Wan didn’t look away from Cody.
It was like he hadn’t even heard Luke.
But the other Jedi did, and a moment later he was turning on his heel to hurry to Luke, Obi-Wan and Cody and all the others quickly forgotten.
A wide smile broke across Luke’s face.
Din, for a moment, was utterly starstruck by it.
“Master Koon!” Luke met him halfway, wrapping his arms around Master Koon just as tightly as he wrapped his arms around Luke. Master Koon lifted Luke up off his feet from the force of the hug. After a moment of just holding him, Master Koon gently set him back down, like he was being careful not to jostle the injury. Luke pulled back just enough to look at him, but he didn’t let go. “What are you two—how did you two get here?”
He looked to Din, head tilted ever so slightly.
“Ahsoka got in contact with me.” Din said softly. “She told me two Jedi were coming.” He paused for a moment, then glanced at Cody. He had managed to drag his eyes away from Obi-Wan to look at Master Koon, but Obi-Wan was still staring at him. “She told me they were her Clan. I had to give them safe passage even if I would have rather not.”
Din shot a look at Obi-Wan.
He startled at that, looking away from Cody just long enough to spare a glace at Din.
Luke looked surprised. “You know Ahsoka?” he asked. Then, “Where is she? We’ve been–she just–she left so quickly after the funeral…” Luke trailed off for a moment, his grip on Master Koon loosening. “We’ve been worried.”
“Naboo.” Din answered, then, with his mind suddenly made up, “Which is where you and I are going.”