A Star Wars Christmas

Identity

Set two weeks after the end of Episode V

Luke Skywalker was not having a good day. Or a good month, for that matter.

He sighed and took off his helmet, pinching the bridge of his nose. Artoo whistled from behind him, and he read the translation on the screen of his X-Wing. "I'm fine, Artoo, just tired."

The truth was, the Rebellion wasn't exactly thriving at the moment. Hoth had been attacked and the fleet was still searching for a planet to place a new primary base. Not to mention Han was encased in carbonite at Jabba's Palace on Tatooine, and Luke had returned from Bespin with Leia and Lando weaponless and with one less appendage.

He flexed his mechanical hand, still not entirely used to it. He'd had it for about two weeks or so at this point, and the skin around where flesh met metal was still singed from Vader's cut. Artoo whistled again, and Luke smiled slightly at his droid's concern. "Artoo, I'm fine. I promise. I just want to get back to the fleet and have a bit of a break; we've been busy lately."

Artoo beeped affirmatively at that, and Luke chuckled before dropping out of hyperspace to join the fleet in the Delaria system. Delaria was the most current planet the Rebellion was exploring for a base, and for some reason they hadn't set down yet. Why was that? Did something go wrong?

"Artoo? Why haven't the Rebel ships landed on the planet yet?"

Artoo asked him again if he was alright, this time with two question marks and with a beep that sounded condescending. Luke sighed. "Artoo, I'm fine. Why do you keep asking?"

Luke read Artoo's response and blinked. It was Christmas Eve. "Oh. Right."

He'd been so busy these past few months, from the battle of Hoth to his confrontation with Vader, that he'd completely forgotten about Christmas. Well, he guessed it didn't really matter when he had no one to celebrate it with. For all he knew Leia and Lando could be anywhere.

"X-Wing, report your status." The comm chimed, and Luke put his helmet back on to answer.

"Red Five coming home." He responded, and after a few seconds he was cleared to land.

"All clear. Welcome home, Skywalker."

Artoo chirped as he initiated the landing sequence, and Luke ruffled his flattened hair from the helmet and took off his gloves. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before exiting the cockpit and flashing everyone a smile as he walked towards the lifts. But once Luke was inside the lift his face fell and his eyes shifted down to the empty notch on his belt where his father's lightsaber used to hang.

He sighed and exited the lift to see the Mon Cala cruiser's bridge hustling with life, with Admiral Ackbar in the main chair and everyone else either around the honorable or just walking with a mission. But one person stuck out to him, a certain brunette with familiar braids in her hair.

"Leia." He called with a smile, and the princess turned around and returned the smile.

"Luke!" She exclaimed, putting her datapad down and hugging him. "It's been awhile; how are you?"

"I'm fine." He replied.

Leia eyed Artoo suspiciously. "He's lying, isn't he?"

Artoo beeped affirmatively and Luke sighed. "I'm honestly fine, I'm just tired."

The two locked eyes and Leia raised a brow until Luke looked down. "How did you know?" He muttered.

Leia put a hand on the young Jedi's shoulder. "Call it a gut feeling. Also, there's no way you'd be alright yet after what happened to you, and that's alright."