A/N: This takes place several years in the future. Much after the events of the Fate of the Jedi series. It's a sad thing, when I realized, that Luke 'our favorite farmboy' Skywalker, is not gonna live forever. I read somewhere about him dying somewhere in between 44-137 ABY, but that's just not good enough for me. So this is my attempt to ease my own mind I guess. I hope you enjoy it.

P.S.: Intentionally this was supposed to be a one-shot. It no longer is.

Disclaimer: Star Wars nor any of its characters belong to me. They are the property of George Lucas

Part 1

Ben Skywalker made his way through the long corridor of the tower, his red-hair ,scattered with a light salt and pepper, shining in the beams of the overhead lightening. He'd arrived at the Temple thirty minutes ago and was informed by Master Katarn that his father had reported that he had not been feeling well and had gone home early. Ben felt an odd misgiving at this news and had immediately caught a hovertaxi to check in on him. It wasn't like Luke Skywalker to skip out on lessons. Something must be really wrong. The Jedi Knight felt a tightening in his gut.

"That old man just doesn't get a tummy ache and slink home. He'd teach with a fever of over 100…" Ben muttered as he stopped in front of the apartment door.

He pressed his thumb on the intercom and waited for a moment.

No answer.

He pressed his thumb on the button and growled in frustration as it produced the same result, swiping a hand through his hair. Ben keyed in the code, not waiting for Luke. The door slid open with a silent whoosh. He gazed upon the darkened apartment with trepidation.

His green eyes narrowed. Is he even here?

Squelching the fear that sat on his chest like orb of Mandalorian ore and dismissing the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, the younger Skywalker entered the apartment, the door sliding shut behind him.

"Dad!" He called out.

Nothing.

"Dad, if you're here, please say something."

He moved his feet steadily, maneuvering himself expertly through the darkness.

"Don't make me call a medic." His voice held an exasperated tone as he approached the main living area.

It was bathed in darkness all except for the holovid-screen that burned brightly in the dark. The HoloNet was tuned in to some type of news program; a recent local crime occurrence it seemed—he couldn't tell, the sound was turned down really low. He walked forward, stopping at the couch and bending down to find the off switch.

What he found stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Stang, Dad!" He gasped, jerking his hand back. "Why didn't you answer me? Have you gone deaf or something?"

Luke Skywalker tilted his head back and looked up from his place on the couch, a data-pad resting in his left hand, with a stylus in his right. His blue eyes seemed far away for a moment until they cleared in recognition. "Ben."

The Knight sighed, "Of course, Ben. Who else would it have been?"

He stalked over to the wall behind him and slapped the light pad. The room became illuminated, dispelling the darkness from it, leaving his father sitting on the couch, focused on his son's unexpected arrival.

"You should have told me you were coming." Luke said, laying the datapad on the table in front of him. "What brings you here?"

"What brings me here?" Ben parroted, sounding stunned. "You mean besides the fact that, the father who I attempted to see at the Temple…went home early…and when I got here… He didn't even answer me."

The Jedi Master let a slow sad smile overtake his face. "I'm sorry…" He made a move to stand. "I was absorbed in.." He gestured towards the 'pad. "…something…." His father maneuvered his way around the couch, heading for the kitchen.

"Can I get you something to drink?" He asked as he entered it.

Ben shook his head. He wasn't going to let it go that easily, and if Luke Skywalker thought he was, then the grand master was gravely mistaken.

"You didn't answer me."

He leaned against the bar, pinning his father with a stare.

"There was a question?" Luke looked over his shoulder as he started to spoon brown powder from a glass container into one of the two large mugs in front of him. His hands worked fastidiously as he then switched his movements to filling the mugs with scalding hot water.

Ben watched a boyish smile appear.

He sighed and pulled up a nerfhide stool underneath him. "I'm sure you're not that senile yet." He chastised, knowing his father probably very much cognizant of what was transpiring.

Luke turned and leaned against the counter near the sink. His face was worn as a testament to his long life with his once blonde hair dominated primarily by gray. He looked haggard but at the same time, he resembled very much the father he'd known all these years, blue eyes flashing with a lively light.

"Are you sure?" His father asked playfully.

Ben frowned.

Something wasn't right. He'd been expecting to find his father looking deathly ill, but that wasn't what he was getting.

"Master Katarn said you weren't feeling well." He managed slowly.

"I wasn't." Luke brought both mugs over to the bar area.

"And you're so active now because?" Ben looked into the depths of the mug, staring into the chocolate-colored beverage set in front of him.

"I'm not," He lifted the mug to his lips and drank in the hot substance. "Not really anyhow." The master glanced at his son over his cup.

Ben raised his own mug to his lips and blew on the liquid before taking a tentative sip. The flavor glossed over his tongue; it was utterly sweet. Too sweet.

Hot chocolate.

Seeing his son's reaction, Luke arched an eyebrow: "What?"

The redhead set the mug back down.

"You really need to stop drinking this stuff." He tapped the rim.

"It's not bad."

"It's too sweet." Ben's voice seemed to take on that of a petulant child.

Recognition dawned on Luke's face. "I forgot. You never liked hot chocolate."

The other rolled his eyes.

"Sure you did."

He then turned around on the stool, presenting his back to his father. His eyes shifted over the massive living area with its deep floor, clean lined furniture, sparse artistic pieces, and finally stopped upon the holoimage set against the far wall.

The image featured the two most important people in Ben's life, his parents: Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade Skywalker.

It was a holo of their wedding day.

His mother's flame-colored hair was pulled up into a stylish up-doo, ringlets of red curls framing her face. Her eyes, a deep and intense emerald green, sparkling with the joy imbued with them. Her dress was an elegant white pattern with flower buds embellished near the skirt.

His father's blue eyes, in turn, shown with as much mirth as his wife's, his blond hair slicked back, clearing the bangs from his forehead. His farm boy-like smile seemed to give light to his face much as it did the Jedi Master's eyes. He was decked out in a stylish black tuxedo with his hand settled gently on Mara Jade's waist.

He couldn't help but think how happy they looked. It had been years since his mom's passing and Ben believed his father had finally healed himself. Though he was still quite certain there were times when he would take a moment to think about her. He'd caught him doing it countless of times. Luke never said anything, but he didn't have to.

It was times like those that Ben's heart ached, seeing the Jedi Master so despondent.

"-en? Ben? Ben?"

"What? Did you say something, Dad?" He turned around, watching out of the corner of his eyes as Luke Skywalker made his way out of the kitchen.

"You were spacing out." Luke replied.

"I was?"

"Either that or I was having a conversation with a hallucination for the last three minutes."

He cracked a smile.

His father walked out and made his way to the sofa. Ben noticed the restrained way he eased himself down onto it, and he'd bet anything it had nothing to do with the mug of hot chocolate gripped in the man's right hand.

He walked over to chair positioned diagonal from where the older man was sitting. His eyes seemed to register what the man was wearing for the first time. He had a dark gray flight suit donned on with the left vest pocket patched over with the New Jedi Order insignia. The robes his father wore over his clothing were of a light gray color, the spun fabric different from the traditional Jedi robes. It was fairly wrinkled and Ben was pretty sure his father had been sleeping in them. Stars, he was positive his father hadn't changed at all.

The young Skywalker watched his father take a drink of hot chocolate then return his gaze back to his son's.

Blue eyes locked intently upon blue eyes.

"Now, as I was saying," He sat the mug down. "It's been awhile since you've been back on Courscant. Family, okay?"

Ben stretched out, sinking back into the chair with his black boots tucked underneath the table. He laid his hands over his stomach, absentmindedly picking at the sand colored tunic.

"Good. Myra sends her love."

"Your son?"

"You tell me." He crossed his arms behind his head. "You probably see the boy more than I do."

Boy? He laughed inwardly. That's an .?docid=25906735ment.

His son, Tanith, was well into his 30s. Following family tradition, the boy was born late in life and the only child of Ben and Myra Zol-Skywalker.

Luke cocked his head to side, as if considering this. "I haven't seen Tanith since he left planet a month ago."

Ben swore.

"I'm sure he's all right." Luke attempted to console his son.

"The kid's a laser-brain. Let's hope he hasn't done anything stupid."

His father gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. If he's remembered half the stuff I've taught him, he'll be fine." He looked pointedly at Ben. "You really need to start treating him like the adult he is."

"That's rich coming from you." Ben grinned. "I've noticed you haven't gotten tired of lecturing me."

"And you still haven't lost your mother's rapier wit."

"Like that's a bad thing?"

He returned the smile.

Luke shifted in his seat, as if uncomfortable. He then reached up rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Ben watched as a look of exhaustion passed over his father's face. The older Jedi yawned deeply, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes.

"Dad?" Ben queried cautiously.

When Luke didn't respond, the other got and crossed over to the couch.

"Dad?"

The Jedi Master dropped his hands from his face and opened his eyes; they seemed to loose focus. "Hm?"

"You all right, cause you don't look too well? " He leaned down to grip his father's shoulder. "Have you been sleeping regularly? Eating well?"

"I'm fine." He responded, moving to get up.

It was an obvious struggle for him.

"Fine, my ass." Ben muttered throwing an arm under his father 's. "I'm putting you to bed."

Luke looked back at him and smiled. It was clear that this thought amused him.

"You find this funny, Dad?"

"Just remembering a time, long ago, when I was the one putting you down to sleep." He moved away from his son's grasp and started for the bedroom. He watched as Ben watched him. The boy was hovering cautiously around him, like a mother hen. Luke chuckle inwardly at this.

"I changed my mind, you are going senile." He muttered. "Or maybe it's me…."

His father's eyes glinted merrily at this.

A/N: As i said, before this was initially going to be a one-shot. So look forward to other/another part(s). I'm not sure how many. Please feel free to leave comments. I'd greatly appreciate them. I think, I aged Ben well enough, so he's older but still sounds like him. I feel I portrayed Luke pretty well... So yeah, till next time!