Disclaimer:

I do not own any part of the Star Wars franchise or any of its characters. I have not been paid for any of the stories posted on FanFiction or elsewhere. What you read here are simply the products of my own imagination based on the universe created by George Lucas .

Author's Note:

Back in 2002, under the pen name "Nadahnefu" (Denise, "not a nephew" — with an e—mail I know longer have access to and a password long since forgotten), I submitted a story called "Skywalker's Legacy" that I had written many years earlier. It only received one (very favorable) review...but not until 2010. So, with the new movie coming out and the one review urging me to "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Make another chapter! Make a sequel! Or something!" Here is the sequel I have had since waaaayy back when but never posted.

There are some very strong sexual overtones in this story, especially when you get to Chapter 11, or so. Hence the "T" rating.

Sadly, FFN won't let me format the "Prophecy Poem" the way I would like, breaking up the stanzas, etc. and multiple columns, so I did the best I could by using periods.

This is actually the second story in my "Brenna" series (after "Skywalker's Legacy" posted by me as Nadahnefu). There is also the "prequel" to my little series, published in FFN by me under the pen name "DeniseH" (ran out of available document space under "Denisea") and entitled "The Legion Renewed." So if you want to read that backstory, look for it under author "DeniseaH". And if you simply must have more after you read this story, then read "The Face in the Shadows" and then "The Justice of Clan Tahl."

What you need to know from "Skywalker's Legacy" before reading this story:

In my universe, Luke is an over—protective father trying to keep his daughter Brenna away from the evil Etan Lippa (Palpatine's son — rearrange the letters of "Palpatine" and you get "Etan Lippa") who can sense when somebody uses the Force. Brenna's mother has been out of the picture (you find out what happened to her in another story) since Brenna was about 3 years old. Naturally, being the daughter of two force—sensitives, Brenna is very strong with the force, and creates large "waves" that Etan Lippa can sense when Brenna tries to use the Force.

In "Skywalker's Legacy," Brenna starts out unaware of her heritage, knows she has a special gift, but has never received any training in it. During the course of the story, she learns who her father is, and begs him to train her, but of course he refuses (trying to keep her safe from Etan Lippa).

Enter Rupert, the adopted son of Han and Leia, who also happens to be a force—sensitive. As Luke learns in "Skywalker's Legacy," Rupert's special gift is "creature—empathy." But there's a problem. Unless they are trained to handle their gifts appropriately, creature empaths eventually go insane. So Luke is forced to train Rupert, but simultaneously refuses to train Brenna, which fact she naturally resents and misunderstands his reasons for. So by the end of "Legacy," Brenna is headed off to the Academy (since she can't stand being around while Dad trains Rupert).

In "Legacy," there is a brief video meeting of Brenna and Etan Lippa, in which Brenna learns that there is a prophecy (by Yoda) that Skywalker's daughter will mate with Palpatine's son and become the "mother of a new race."

And that's where this story picks up...

Prologue and Chapter One are below. I hope you enjoy...

.

Prophecy's Child

by Denisea

Prologue

.

As my life's end draws near,

A vision I see.

From out of the Darkness:

A last prophecy.

.

The future will always

In motion remain.

Yet the bond of events

Is an unbroken chain. ——Yoda's Book of Prophecies

.

Etan Lippa smiled to himself and read the reports again. He had eyes everywhere, and his spies had found what he was looking for—or rather who he was looking for. Soon, the daughter of Skywalker would be his. Despite the Jedi's pitiful attempt to hide her, he knew now where she was. Luke Skywalker's skills were no match for his own.

The prophecy was that Brenna would come to him, and together they would start a new race. That much was written in the stars and could not be changed—not that he wanted to change it. Etan Lippa was a patient man. He had waited Brenna's lifetime for the prophecy to ferment. But now he was anxious to bring the waiting to an end.

He had no wish to alter the prophecy. But perhaps he could hurry it along a bit.

And once he had Skywalker's daughter, he could take care of her father at his leisure...

.

Chapter One

Last student of mine,

If today's battle you've won,

Then time now it is

For this final lesson.

. .

The wisdom of Ancients

Is given, not earned.

So, Student, be Teacher,

Pass on what you learned.

. .

Rupert sat cross—legged on the carpeted floor of Luke's suite as his teacher spoke.

"A Force—sensitive is like an athlete," Luke explained. "Some people have a gift, but unless that person is trained, that gift remains undeveloped. Every athlete has some kind of physical ability, whether it's balance or flexibility or speed or brute strength or endurance, or a combination of some of these. How that person is trained has something to do with it, but there's also an inherent tendency to be better at some things than others. With a Force—sensitive, it's telekinesis or telepathy or precognition or psychometry or‑‑‑"

"Or creature—empathy," Rupert added. "Okay, so that's why I can't move stuff around the way you can."

"But neither will I ever be able to communicate with animals the way you can."

"I thought you were also a telepath. Mom told me you could talk to her in her head."

"That's true. I can communicate with other sensitives‑‑‑ones that I'm close to, whose presence I can distinguish‑‑‑and even make a suggestion to some non—sensitives. It doesn't always work, though. And I've tried once in a while to communicate with lower forms, and even managed to succeed occasionally, but it takes a lot out of me. You, on the other hand, communicate on a different level‑‑‑an empathic level. And it comes so easy to you that you don't even know you're doing it sometimes. That's where the problem lies."

"My weirding—out," Rupert said, referring to his episodes of losing control while bonding with an animal.

Luke nodded. "What you need to learn is how to separate your feelings from the impressions you receive around you. A fully trained creature—empath can use those impressions to alert him of danger, or to make decisions, or to enhance his own senses. A spider on the wall can tell you when there's somebody behind you. A kinoll in the next clearing can tell you what you'll find there. A mortu on a ship‑‑‑"

"Can tell me when someone is attacking." Rupert nodded. "I thought I was just going nuts."

"No. But it can drive you insane if you don't understand where your feelings and intuitions originate, and what's you as opposed to an impression from some creature around you. An animal can become easily frightened, for example. You're a human being. A human can deal with fear in ways that an animal can't."

"All right," Rupert said. "I think I understand. But what about communication the other way? From me to them, I mean."

Luke hesitated, then said. "If I gave you too much, you'd be a threat to Etan Lippa, and he'd come after you like..."

"Like he did the others?" Ruperts finished. "Hell, I figure he'll come after me anyway, and the more I know, the better my chances, right?"

"I promised your father that‑‑‑"

"I know what you promised him. But before, I didn't know that what I was feeling was the Force. Now that I do know, I want to learn how to use it. And, I mean, like the Mortu, back on Tatooine when the Falcon was attacked. That didn't have to happen. If I could have told him to run and hide, he'd still be alive right now."

"Think about the other side of the coin, Rupert. If I took you all the way, then you'd more likely find yourself in the position of telling an animal to make an attack that it couldn't possibly survive, rather than in a position to save it."

Rupert thought about that for a moment. "I don't think I could ever send an animal to its death for my sake."

"Then count yourself lucky you're not going all the way."

"But what if it wasn't for my sake? What if it was for the sake of someone I loved? I might be able to do it then..."

"Rupert—" Luke began.

"Military commanders trade lives all the time. When you and the other Rebels attacked the Death Star, your leaders knew that most of you wouldn't come back. Hell, my mom was one of those leaders."

Luke shook his head, pardoning his student's arguments as a result of his youth. "Rupert, those leaders were not empathically linked to the soldiers who died. Do you want to experience again what you felt when the mortu died, only a thousand times more intense? By not taking you all the way, I'm sparing you that pain."

Rupert thought a moment in silence, then asked, "You were a Commander in the Rebel Fleet, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever have to...order anyone to his death?"

"More times than I care to think about, Rupert."

"Then how can you preach about what's best for me?"

Luke sighed. "It's precisely because I know what it's like that I can preach. Giving those orders, and dealing with the consequences afterwards, are the hardest things I've ever done."

"But you did it."

"I had to. That's the difference here, Rupert. You don't have to. What you have to do is learn how to deal with your empathy. Now, do you want to get started, or do you want to continue with an argument you're not going to win? Because I'm not going to break my word to your parents."

.

.

.

There was a knock on Brenna's door.

She looked up from her screen and sighed. "Come," she said.

Lucy entered, wearing a smile. "Hey, Bren, there's a group of us going to the wing—ball game tonight. Wanna come?"

Brenna returned her gaze from her cousin to the screen. "No, thank you."

"Oh, come on, it'll be good for you. There aren't any classes tomorrow, anyway."

"No. Thank you."

"Well, okay. But we're all meeting at the Cellar for snacks after the game. Should be around nine or so. Devon Martuk will be there. He's got a crush on you, you know. And he's only the most brilliant sociology student who's ever attended the Academy, besides being the cutest wing—ball player on the team."

"I'm not interested." Brenna turned back to her screen.

"Come on. You can't study all the time. Listen, I'll tell you something about Devon. I heard from Robis Lundin, who heard from somebody else, that Devon's involved in the Underground. Highly involved, if you take my meaning. So what do you say?"

Brenna turned to face her again. "I say that if you want the Underground to remain underground, you should probably keep your mouth shut about what you know. Go without me, and have a good time. I'm not interested in wing—ball, or Devon Martuk, or even the Underground."

Lucy sighed. "One of these days I'm going to stop trying. Oh, by the way, I'm sending a com to Rupert. Got any messages for him or your dad?"

"No."

"Don't you ever say 'yes'?"

Brenna didn't even turn up the corners of her mouth. "Occasionally," she replied.