If Your 5 Favorite Billy Joel Songs Were Birds What Would They Be And Why

Just adding the former Twitter thread of analysis here for posterity.

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@normative: I just got a graphic novel adaptation of Nineteen Eighty-Four and was pleasantly surprised to see they included the Appendix “Pr

Actually the implied timeline for the fall of Ingsoc is even shorter than that, on a second look. The Appendix says the Newspeak spoken in 1984 is captured in the 9th & 10th editions of the Newspeak dictionary, and that the 11th edition was the “final” one.  We don’t know exactly when the Party rose to power or started Newspeak, but if they’re already on the 10th edition by 1984 or shortly thereafter, and the Party doesn’t take power until after 1949, that implies new editions being released at absolute most every 3-4 years.  If the 10th edition is released roughly contemporaneously with the events of the book & Ingsoc lasts long enough to produce an 11th edition, but not a 12th, that suggests the collapse of the regime within about a decade of those events.  Another clue: Translation of English Lit classics to Newspeak were planned, and it “was not expected that they would be completed before the first or second decade of the 21st century,” after which the originals would be destroyed.  The use of the subjunctive—and the fact that the future authors of the Appendix assume readers remain familiar with works of Shakespeare, Milton, Jefferson etc.—also implies the fall of Ingsoc before “the first or second decade of the twenty-first century”.  So that’s at least two very strong clues Orwell plants that Ingsoc did not outlast the 20th Century, despite its seeming efficiency at ferreting out and breaking dissenters.

Absolutely amazing money quote too:

The large number of people responding that they did indeed miss this when they read Nineteen Eighty-Four suggests Orwell pulled off a rather brilliant literary prank: He wrote an optimistic epilogue, but hid it in the guise of an Appendix which many (perhaps most) readers either skipped or took at face value as just an essay about Newspeak, rather than a continuation of the story. And this is perfect. It would have been a literary crime to spoil the gut punch of “He loved Big Brother” by tacking on an overt happy ending epilogue. The happy ending is there, but Orwell makes you work for it.

Besties I am reading about the appendix of 1984 by George Orwell and I just re-read the actual appendix last night and I stg I'm gonna scream and cry and throw up because it's fucking past perfect tense and it's the "woulds" and it's the fact that the appendix is written in modern English. 1984 secret ending where Big Brother is long gone it makes me cry.

I learned today that the International Baccalaureate organization (the ones who run the IB tests) consider the topics lists for their courses to be copyrighted and confidential. They won't share them without a signed release.

I'm genuinely offended by this. I don't know how the fuck you're supposed to evaluate or understand the program without knowing what topics it covers! (They'll share the topics list with me, specifically, in the course of evaluating the test for my university; but I have to sign a release, and have to promise not to share them with colleagues, because they want my colleagues to sign the same release.)

And there's, like, no point to this. It's not a major secret what the topics a calculus course should cover are. (And sure, they do some stats and matrices or something too, and that's all the added info.) I think you can't even legally "copyright" the contents of these lists, because it's factual information and that's not copyrightable.

I'm really seriously tempted to issue an official recommendation to my university to stop giving any credit for IB tests until this policy gets reversed. If they won't freely share information on the program and the test, we'll have to assume that it's valueless and shouldn't earn credit.

(My only hesitation to that is it's probably a quixotic quest that would just hassle some innocent IB students. But if I can get a bunch of other departments to sign on I'll absolutely do it; IB can't sustain that policy if universities stop rolling over for it.)

Blatantly Partisan Party Review XV (federal 2025): Katter’s Australian Party

Running where: QLD. The party is contesting three House divisions: Bob Katter himself for Kennedy, plus candidates in Herbert and Leichhardt, while in the Senate, a candidate is second on a joint ticket with Rennick First for Group G

Prior reviews: federal 2013, federal 2016, federal 2019, federal 2022

What I said before: “For those of us on the left, KAP has a few things to like and a lot to detest.” (federal 2022)

What I think this year: I’ve already covered a bunch of “dontcha know who I am?” cult-of-personality parties, and here is perhaps the most larger-than-life personality of the Australian political scene: the North Queenslander in the big hat, the man who would let a thousand blossoms bloom, part of the parliamentary furniture itself, the one and only Bob Katter.

Now, Bob is a character but he's consistent one, so instead of reprising the greatest hits that I've featured before, I thought I would present you with some history to contextualise him and his electorate. Katter’s seat of Kennedy is a vast one. It stretches from the Coral Sea coast between Cairns and Townsville, across the Great Dividing Range, and through Outback towns such as Charters Towers, Hughenden, and Cloncurry out to Mount Isa, across to the NT border, and up to the shores of the Gulf of Carpentaria. Bob Katter has seemingly stomped the length and breadth of it to become an enduringly popular local member. Although Kennedy is one of the original 65 electorates from Federation in 1901, Katter is remarkably just the seventh person to hold it.

Kennedy was in Labor hands from 1929 to 1966 while Darby Riordan and then his nephew Bill held the seat, but for the last 59 years it has been a family business for the other side of politics:, a Katter has represented Kennedy for all but 3 years. Bob’s father, Bob Katter Sr, won it for the Country Party (later renamed the Nationals) and held it from 1966 until his death in 1990, while the young fella learned the family business as a state MP from 1974. Bob Jr served as a cabinet minister from 1983 under another larger-than-life Queensland pollie, Joh Bjelke-Petersen, and in August 1989, Sir Joh unsuccessfully endorsed Katter as his successor as premier. Instead, Bob Jr had an annus horribilis: he went into opposition at the December 1989 Queensland state election, his dad died days before the March 1990 federal election, and Kennedy fell to Labor. The new MP, Rob Hulls, however, only got one term representing this sprawling constituency (and yes, Victorian readers with long memories, that is the Rob Hulls, deputy premier to John Brumby in 2007–10; quite the change of scenery!).

Katter shifted to federal parliament at the 1993 election, winning back the seat of dear old dad, and he has held Kennedy ever since. In 2001 he left the Nationals to sit as an independent: he disagreed with the rise of neoliberal economics (good!) and with some of the Coalition’s more socially liberal policies (bad! especially as the Coalition is uhh not very socially liberal!). In 2011, he founded Katter’s Australian Party, which met with very little success outside Queensland at the 2013 and 2016 federal elections and has since focused on winning seats in North Queensland. It really ought to be called Katter's North Queensland Party.

Bob’s son Robbie has been the party leader since 2020, and at state level KAP holds three seats that overlap with the Division of Kennedy. But Bob is the only KAP representative at federal level; ex-One Nation lunatic Fraser Anning briefly joined KAP as a Senator in 2018 but proved to be too barmy even for the Katters. I see little reason to anticipate any change to the party’s representation this year. If you live in Kennedy, you probably know Katter is a strong favourite to retain his seat; if you don’t, I hope the history above helped make this explicable.

What is Bob emphasising in his campaign this year? Well, per the homepage, “KAP = Castle Law”. Yes, their core focus is a fear campaign that “crime in Queensland is out of control” and people have a “right to defend their home against intruders without facing legal consequences”. Look, I spent my teenage years in a conservative Queensland setting where A Current Affair was as serious a source of news as the 7:30 Report, but shooting dead a trespasser in your garden is disproportionate. KAP states that “Under the current law, people must demonstrate they have only used ‘necessary’ force under the ‘reasonable belief’ that the intruder was entering their home to commit a serious crime”. Seems fine to me! But they think that people “cannot always make split-second, measured decisions in moments of crisis”. The existing law as per their own description already accommodates this: a person fiddling with your gate is obviously a different degree of threat to somebody confronting you in your bedroom with a knife, and going out all guns blazing at the former is not "reasonable". KAP's policy is a solution in search of a problem.

Other policies? Still on crime, KAP has a four-step “send ‘em out bush” policy for young offenders that in practice would just make them more resentful. You won’t be surprised to learn that KAP wants harsher sentences in general for youth offending and backs the LNP’s “adult crime = adult time” approach. Turning to energy, KAP want more coal, more gas, and new nuclear. Other infrastructure policies focus mainly on roads and on dams to support agriculture. Unsurprisingly for a party whose largest donors are from the gun lobby, KAP’s approach to firearms is permissive. And maybe one of their odder policies is that “KAP wants flying foxes gone from populated areas” and supports culling them. Did a flying fox steal your dog Bob? Come on man. Three of seven species of flying fox in Australia are listed as vulnerable or endangered.

And, of course, for a party led by a man whose most famous remark is about crocodiles tearing people to pieces in North Queensland, there is a policy that “values human life above crocodiles”. Enjoy. Should this move you, perhaps you might also want to buy an official “let there be a thousand blossoms bloom” shirt. If so, Bob’s got a shop for that. I am not kidding.

Recommendation: Give Katter’s Australian Party a very low preference in the House and a weak or no preference in the Senate.

Website: https://kattersaustralianparty.org.au/

(For the pol nerds: Bob is currently Father of the House, i.e. the longest-serving current MP, but at just over 32 years in office he is not yet in the top ten ever. If the new parliament goes to term and Bob does not retire before the election, he will be either 10th or 11th  on the all-time list depending on the exact day of election. He needs to serve five years from today to get into the top five, 10.5 years to get into the top two, and just shy of twenty years to pass Billy Hughes’ record of 51 years and 213 days. Keep in mind that Bob turns 80 next month. Now, yes, he served 18 years in Queensland’s state parliament, so as of this year he has been in a parliament for half a century, but Billy Hughes served in the NSW parliament for 7 years; to exceed Hughes’ cumulative time, Katter needs to be in office for another 8.7 years)

So I recently stumbled on the Wikipedia article for the Grothendieck-Riemann-Roch theorem, which is an algebraic geometry thing that I'll hopefully learn some day once I actually have the prerequisite knowledge =w= But at the top of the article was this letter, which I thought was a wild thing to have at the top of a Wikipedia article about a niche abstract math thing - here's a translation:

Witches' Kitchen 1971 Riemann-Rochian Theorem: the latest craze*: the diagram

is commutatif**! To give this statement about f: X->Y some approximative meaning, I had to abuse the listeners' patience for nearly two hours. In black and white (in Springer's Lecture Notes) it seems like it will take up to about 400, 500 pages. A gripping example of how our thirst for knowledge and discovery indulges itself more and more in a(n il?)logical delirium far removed from life, while life itself is going to hell in thousandfold ways - and is threatened with absolute annihilation. High time to change our course! (6.12.1971) Alexander Grothendiek

* "der letzte Schrei" is a reasonably common German idiom meaning "the latest craze", but here it could alternatively be translated non-idiomatically as something like "the last cry". I think its more fun to imagine he means the idiom. ** I'm assuming this is a weird old-timey spelling probably taken from french but googling it I can find no examples of anybody using this spelling in German besides this letter

Note that this is 20 years before all of this happens:

HAPPY 2024 YALL WE'RE CELEBRATING WITH THE SAPPHICS EVER

2023 was crazy but also i don't remember most of it Imao, I genuinely hope yall had a good year though and made some accomplishments (whether or not they were what you wanted in the beginning of the year) and I hope 2024 is a great year for you all!!!! 🥳💜🎉

After the math pope, we have a math president

From the Wiki page of Nicușor Dan, the new president of Romania:

He won first prizes in the International Mathematical Olympiads in 1987 and 1988 with perfect scores.[3] Dan moved to Bucharest at the age of 18 and began studying mathematics at the University of Bucharest.[4] In 1992, he moved to France to continue studying mathematics: he followed the courses of the École Normale Supérieure, one of the most prestigious French grandes écoles, where he gained a master's degree. In 1998 Dan completed a PhD in mathematics at Paris 13 University, with thesis "Courants de Green et prolongement méromorphe" written under the direction of Christophe Soulé and Daniel Barsky [de].[5][6]

Dan's 1988 gold medal also means he was one of eleven contestants to get full marks on the infamous Problem 6, a question so difficult that nobody on the IMO problem committee could solve it.

His personal website lists his primary area of research as Arakelov geometry, a method of studying Diophantine equations from a geometric point of view.

His thesis, in the same field.

His arXiv.

Generalized Golf

I have looked up nothing about golf to write this.

Let C be any topological space. We will call this the ‘course’. For any two points x,y ∈ C we have a collection S_xy of ‘shots from x to y’, where each ‘shot’ s ∈ S_xy is a path in C from x to y, which is to say a continuous function s: [0,1] → C with s(0) = x and s(1) = y. For a shot s ∈ S_xy we call x its ‘start’ and y its ‘end’. Let S denote the collection of all shots in C between any two points.

A ‘hole’ on C is a triple (t,h,p) where t ∈ C is a point called the ‘tee’, h ⊂ C is a subset called (confusingly) the ‘hole’, and p is an ordinal number called the ‘par’. For any cardinal number κ we define a ‘golf’ of length κ to be a function g: κ → H, where H is a set of holes on C. A golf g is called ‘finite’ if κ is finite and the par of every hole in the image of g is finite. We define the par of a finite golf as the sum of the pars of its constituent holes.

A quintuple (C,S,κ,H,g) defined like above is called a ‘game of (generalized) golf’.

Take a hole (t,h,p), a successor ordinal ω+1. Let F: ω+1 → S be a function such that F(0) is a shot from t, for every i < ω the end of F(i) equals the start of F(i+1), the end of F(ω) is an element of h, and no F(i) ends in h before this. Such an F is called a ‘play’. We call ω the ‘score’ of F.

A ‘golfer’ is a collection of probability spaces, which for any shot s ∈ S with start x and end y gives a probability space on the set of shots from x. This is to be interpreted as the ways in which a shot can deviate from the golfer’s intent.

…

Now to define the real numbers by way of games of golf on ℚ.

On Criticism vs. Insult

It is important to understand the difference between appropriate criticism and constructive feedback vs. insults.

One can help you grow, while the other is not something you have to carry, as they are unnecessary burdens given to you for torment.

While it is easier said than done to let go of the heavy baggage, the first step is awareness. It is vital to carry the ability to distinguish between criticism and insult, and to be able to discern if what has been given to you is out of good or bad intentions.

In 2011 a woman named Maureen Seaburg wrote a book about synesthesia called Tasting the Universe and there's a whole chapter about Billy Joel that he did a fairly extensive interview for and I have literally found no other evidence of him discussing synesthesia before or since.

Full chapter under the cut:

Around The Galaxy In Eighty Hours

Rey left the Falcon behind, walking up the steps on the Ahch-To island, and she fought the urge to run.

It had taken all this struggle to get here. All this time. The map BB-8 had carried… so many who’d been lost on the way… and now she was here.

She was going to ask Luke Skywalker for help. The legendary Jedi Master, the one who had defeated the Emperor.

As she climbed, though, a niggling little feeling began to gnaw at her.

Where was he, anyway?

She’d been assuming he was somewhere high up, and the Force wasn’t pointing her anywhere else. But she couldn’t see him, and as she reached the very top of the stairs… there was no sign of him.

“Master Skywalker?” she asked, looking around. “Master Luke?”

“Jee-dhai?” one of the locals asked, in a curious voice.

“Huh?” Rey replied, turning. “I… well, I don’t think… I want to be, but I’m not one yet… do you know where Master Skywalker is?”

The hooded alien shrugged, and pointed to one of the rock huts.

Curious, Rey entered.

It was immediately obvious Master Skywalker wasn’t in the hut. There wasn’t room. There was barely room for Rey… but, after a moment, she spotted something odd.

A folded piece of flimsiplast, with a metal-rimmed piece of crystal on it.

Taking the crystal, Rey was surprised to find that it felt… warm, and tingly. It fizzed with an unidentifiable but oddly familiar energy, and she turned it over before opening the flimsiplast.

It held only one sentence.

Use the Force on the crystal.

“...is this going to be a riddle?” Rey asked. “Or a trial of some sort?”

Silence answered her, and she took a deep breath before closing her eyes and focusing.

It was still… difficult, to call on the Force at will, but she could do it.

As she did, the crystal glowed, then filaments of light streamed out of it to form a face.

Master Skywalker’s face. She was sure of it.

“To whoever has found this,” he began. “Firstly, if this is Ben… well done for coming back to the light. And if not… I’m glad there are others besides myself who can use the Force without being tainted by the Dark Side. This crystal has been constructed using the techniques of the ancient Holocrons, which would shatter if they were forced open by the Dark Side.

He paused. “The Caretakers have a few of them, in case they need to replace one. Anyway… if you came here, then either the Force guided you here to Ahch-To or you came following the map. And if you came following the map, you came looking for me.”

Master Skywalker’s expression turned rueful. “So I’m sorry to disappoint you. I’m not here. I left. I grew up on a desert planet, and this place just… unsettles me. It gives me the creeps to see all that water. Hurricanes should be illegal, and this planet has some really nasty ones… anyway, I’ve moved somewhere where I don’t need to worry about that. You’ll find me in the Bespin system, on Cloud City…

Rey’s eye twitched, as the blue illusion of Master Skywalker’s face listed off an address.

The crystal fizzed slightly, and she dropped it before she could break it somehow, then crouched down and picked it up again – not accessing it with the Force, this time.

“Right,” she said, her voice tight, and turned to go right back down the slope again.

“You’re back early,” Chewbacca said, concern in his voice.

“Luke’s not here,” Rey replied, hitting the switch to raise the Falcon’s ramp. “Do you know where Bespin is?”

Chewie blinked.

“What?” he asked. “Yes, I know where Bespin is… you’re saying he’s on Bespin?”

“Apparently,” Rey replied. “Though I suppose the map is a map to where he went, not where he is. It’s not like he was updating it…”

Cloud City was an amazing sight, though it had begun to pall slightly for Rey when it took them half an hour to get a landing permit.

Eventually Chewbacca called in a favour from someone called Lobot, and ten minutes after that Rey rang the door chime on the address Luke had given her.

Then she stood outside, waiting.

It was strange to be in a completely built environment. Even the ground under her feet ultimately had nothing beneath it but air… and yet all this was kept in the air by technology.

If Rey hadn’t known quite so much about how solidly built repulsorlift units were, she might have been unsettled.

The door hissed open, and a woman looked out. “Yes?”

“I’m looking for Luke Skywalker?” Rey asked, awkwardly.

“Oh!” the woman said. “You know, he didn’t leave a forwarding address, but he did ask that something be given to anyone who came looking for him… hold on a moment, please.”

The door hissed closed again, and Rey leaned on her staff and groaned.

“I’m guessing we’re leaving?” Chewbacca asked.

“We’re leaving,” Rey confirmed. “For somewhere called the Dagobah system.”

She held up the crystal she’d been given. “If you’ve never heard of it, this should help, at least. It’s got a planetary map, as well… and a long, long complaint about vertigo.”

“He did once fall out the bottom of Cloud City,” Chewbacca volunteered. “That would give anyone vertigo… here, anyway.”

“So after spending a month here, I realized what training with Master Yoda had let me forget until then,” the pseudo-visible Jedi Master explained, as Rey focused – not without some annoyance – on the crystal she’d found in a hut. “Which is that Dagobah is damp. I can’t walk very far without sinking into the swamp, the only food available is moss soup… Master Yoda stayed here for decades, and I can see the argument that a Jedi should be inured to physical discomfort, but I just can’t take it any more. I’m going to Ajan Kloss.”

“Really?” Rey asked. “Really?”

She focused, drawing out her anger, and expelled it with a sigh.

Where on Ajan Kloss was she supposed to be looking, anyway?

The holocron-alike crystal shimmered, showing an Ajan Kloss planetary map, and Rey committed it to memory before closing her hand around the delicate-seeming crystal.

“All right,” she said. “Ajan Kloss, then! And there had better be a Jedi Master there.”

There was not.

“So it’s been the rainy season…” the next crystal declared. “And it’s not as swampy as Dagobah or as rainy as Ahch-To, but it’s a lot warmer and the combination is absolute hell. I thought it was the rainy season when I was here before, but it turns out that it was actually the dry season. This is the rainy season, and it never gets dry. Nothing gets dry. The humidity is absolutely one hundred percent constantly. The floor’s covered with millipedes and our robes are growing fungus on them.”

Rey shuddered involuntarily.

It did sound bad.

They were fortunately in the dry season again, or at least she assumed so since the rain coming down outside was only moderately heavy and the geography hadn’t been entirely covered by cloud.

“What’s worse, the plants here even grow at night,” Luke complained. “So that’s it. I’m done with this place. We’re moving somewhere where there’s no need to worry about plant life at all…”

“Are you sure this is necessary?” Rey asked, two hours later.

“Yes,” Chewbacca replied, giving her another parka, and Rey put it on somewhat awkwardly. “You’re from a desert world. You know how Dagobah was cold and wet?”

“I’m having trouble forgetting,” Rey replied.

“Well, that’s about fifteen degrees,” Chewbacca explained. “Hoth is minus forty. I was cold there.”

Rey stared.

“...do you have any more warm clothes?” she asked.

Eventually, with some difficulty, Rey struggled into the ruins of the Rebellion’s Echo Base.

It was below freezing cold, and intensely annoying, and what was worse was that there wasn’t even a Jedi Master there. Instead, there was another crystal.

It mostly contained Luke complaining about how kriffing freezing it was, and that he’d spent three days here before electing to move to the Forest Moon of Endor.

“What is this?” Rey asked, after extracting herself from the parkas and as the Falcon sped towards the Endor system. “Is it some kind of sick joke?”

“I’ll give this for Endor, it’s warmer than Hoth,” Chewbacca contributed.

The Endor map led to an Ewok village, where they treated Chewbacca like an old friend and sniffed at Rey with great suspicion before Chewbacca managed to make himself understood enough to explain that she was a friend.

Then an Ewok shaman said… something… and Rey found herself involved in some kind of blessing ceremony. It was surprisingly useful, in that it actually involved the Force, but Rey was struggling to concentrate by the second hour… and it wasn’t until the fifth that she actually managed to convey the question she had.

The Ewoks discussed amongst themselves, then finally realized what she meant, and led her to a large treetop hut.

An empty hut, with nothing but some folded flimsiplast on the table, and a crystal on top of it.

Rey wanted to scream, but she didn’t want her hosts to take it the wrong way.

“If you’ve ever met Ewoks, you’ll know they’re brave warriors and good people,” Luke said, as Rey slumped over the Dejarik table on the Falcon.

Both she and Chewbacca were watching Luke’s latest message, and part of Rey hoped that wherever it was going to be was far away enough that she could get some rest.

The rest of her was wondering if they could just give up looking.

“But they’re also… a bit much,” Luke went on. “It took a month or two, but ultimately it got to be too much for us, so we decided to move on. This time we’re going to somewhere where we should be able to be alone, and as a bonus we can be out of the rain as well… it’s a lot like a homecoming, in some ways. We’re going to the Great Temple on Yavin Four.”

Chewbacca muttered something, and went to set the autopilot.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I have actually got bored of green,” Rey said, as they flew low over the jungles of Yavin Four. “I didn’t think it was possible to get bored of something that quickly.”

Chewbacca shrugged.

“Are we picking anything up?” he asked.

“Not on the long range,” Rey replied, sitting down and checking the scanners. “Nothing on passive… that’s just because Luke wants to hide, right?”

She detected a note of desperation in her voice. “It’s not because he’s moved on again, right?”

Chewbacca didn’t say anything, but he did raise an eyebrow at her.

Searching the Great Temple took about an hour, and they didn’t find a Jedi Master.

They did, however, find one of the now all-too-familiar crystals, and Rey stared balefully at it before clasping her hands and letting out her anger.

Again.

Then she snatched it up, wanting to know where they were going to have to go this time.

“You know…” Rey said, as they broke orbit. “I actually almost sympathize with that one.”

“You do?” Chewbacca asked.

“Yeah,” Rey agreed. “Knowing that the temples here were literally built by slaves who were members of the original Sith species… it’s a Sith Temple. I imagine any Jedi would be uncomfortable with that.”

She looked down at the crystal. “I really wish he’d put one of these on Ahch-To, though.”

“No argument there,” Chewie mumbled. “At least Naboo is an easy one…”

“I don’t know much about the place,” Rey said. “Only that it was involved with the Clone Wars, somehow. Or maybe something before the Clone Wars.”

The crystal pointed them to a very fine town house in Theed, which did not have Master Luke in it.

Instead, it had a droid, who beeped and whistled at them.

“We’re looking for Master Skywalker,” Rey said. “Please tell me you know where he went.”

The droid beeped again.

“...Master Amidala?” Rey repeated. “But Master Skywalker said to come here…”

“Same person, it’s just his mother’s surname instead of his father’s,” Chewbacca provided. “Show the droid one of the crystals?”

“It can’t hurt,” Rey conceded. “Is this some kind of ancestral home, then?”

She activated one of the crystals, and the droid whistled gleefully before opening an internal compartment and depositing another crystal in her palm.

“Right,” Rey said, rubbing her forehead with her free hand. “It’s a good thing the Falcon is so fast. We must have done a lap of the galaxy by now.”

“We’ve mostly been going through the middle, but yes,” Chewie agreed. “Where now?”

“That’s always the question,” Rey conceded, focusing.

If there was one thing this was good for, it was learning to master her anger.

“I know, I know, I said we’d be here for good,” Luke apologized. “But I ran into a Palpatine on the street yesterday, and it freaked me out.”

He shook his head. “I know, they’re from a different branch of the family, not everyone called Palpatine is evil… but it really unsettled me and I can’t feel comfortable here any more. Not after I heard from Binks about how Palpatine exploited both my parents… and him.”

The Jedi Master let out a long sigh. “But being somewhere I inherited… it helped, really. It reminded me of the other place that I inherited. We’re going back home. Beggar’s Canyon and the Lars homestead. Ben, if you’re the one hearing this… I’m sorry that we couldn’t give you the childhood that my aunt and uncle gave me.”

The force hologram disappeared, and Rey closed her eyes.

“That didn’t even give us a planet,” she said.

“No problem,” Chewbacca replied. “I know where we’re going. I know where Luke grew up.”

He nodded to the droid. “Thanks for your help.”

The droid whistled, waving a probe cheerfully.

Naboo to Tatooine. Mos Eisley to the Jundland Wastes to the Lars homestead, and from there on to Beggar’s Canyon.

Rey could feel the tension building in the air. Like the signs of a sandstorm, but more positive.

Signs of… something. Maybe signs of hope.

“Found something,” Chewbacca said. “Zeroing in on it now.”

The Falcon banked, slowing, and Rey went to the ramp as it opened. Around her, the light transport hovered on repulsorlifts, and she held on to a stanchion as she leaned out into the hot, dry air.

“I can see something!” she reported, through her comlink. “Bring us down another four metres… all right… I’m getting out here, land as near as you can.”

“Got it,” Chewbacca replied, and Rey slipped out of the door.

She landed with a roll, and shaded her eyes to look closely at what she’d spotted.

There was no mistaking it. It was a hangar bay. Built into the side of Beggar’s Canyon, concealed from above except at exactly the right angle, and big enough to service plenty of ships at once.

There were ships there, in fact. Two transport shuttles, a light and utilitarian variety, and a heavier and heavily modified yacht. But there was space for several more, and Rey frowned as she approached.

This didn’t feel empty in the way the other places had been, a difference that only made sense now she’d felt both sides of it.

It felt… lived in.

Then three young adults – a strange four-legged two-armed half-equine, a more familiar Bothan, and a human – came out of a doorway, all looking at her warily.

“Who are you?” the bothan asked. “Why are you here?”

“I’m looking for Master Luke Skywalker,” Rey explained.

“...oh, well, you just missed him,” the half-equine replied. “He’ll be back-”

“Lusa!” the Bothan protested. “Operational security!”

“Right, right,” the now-identified Lusa said. “Why do you want to speak to him?”

“Because we need him,” Rey said, simply. “To fight the First Order. I… brought his old lightsaber?”

She held it out.

“Whoa,” all three youngsters said, at once.

Then the Falcon came flying back over, still looking for a landing spot, and the human gasped.

“Is that the Millennium Falcon?” he asked. “Did you come here with Han Solo and Chewbacca? Does that mean Ben-”

“No,” Rey replied. “Han’s dead. He… Ben killed him.”

That put a damper on the mood.

“...so, where is Master Luke?” Rey asked, after a few seconds. “Who are you? What are you doing here? I’ve been following his messages for more than a day!”

“Well…” Lusa began. “We’re… trainees?”

“The old word was padawans,” the Bothan supplied. “Master Luke decided that… uh… he said that he remembered what Master Yoda said, and that the only thing that mattered was the spirit. That you had to learn to avoid the Darkness, and that everything else you could learn at your own pace, however fast or slow that was.”

“And all the teachers left about two hours ago in their X-Wings,” the human contributed. “So we’re the ones defending the Academy!”

“I am going to need some time to process this,” Rey said. “...wait, in X-Wings?”

“We had a fleet,” Poe said. “Now we’re down to one ship, and you’ve told us nothing!”

He waved his hands, for emphasis. “Tell us that we have a plan! That there is hope!”

Admiral Holdo stared back.

“There is a plan,” she said. “But I don’t have to tell you what-”

“Admiral!” someone interrupted. “Hyperspace signatures! It looks like… they’re snub fighters, twelve of them!”

Holdo’s shoulders slumped.

“And there it is,” she declared, as the tension left, and she sat back into her seat. “Turn the ship! Prepare for close engagement!”

The radio crackled.

“All wings report in,” came a voice, Luke Skywalker’s voice, and it was so unexpected that Poe staggered back a pace.

“Katarn standing by,” one of the fighters reported.

“Horn, standing by,” another voice added.

The reports came, one by one. Jade, Dracos, Solusar, Durron, Ikrit, Binks, Desann, Korr, Penin. Then they broke for an attack run, and Poe could only stare.

He knew he was a good pilot. One of the best.

But even he had to admit that he couldn’t outdo that squadron.