The screams woke him.
Terrified, the viceroy raced into his daughter's bedroom, a step behind several guards, many of whom tried to stop him from entering, to no avail.
Sitting there in the middle of her large canopy bed, sat his baby girl, her dark hair mused from sleep, her eyes wide with terror, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"There was a boy, Papa! I saw him! And some terrible creature with a spiked stick! He's in pain, Papa! They hurt him."
"Calm down, Leia," he whispered soothingly, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the girl into his lap. "It was just a nightmare."
"Papa, I knew him."
"Leia, you couldn't possibly know him. You've never left the planet."
Leia's brow furrowed, and the ten year old looked at him strangely for a moment. Then, her face cleared of emotion—a perfect politician's mask. "Yes, Papa."
When her father left the room, Leia quickly retrieved her datapad. She knew the boy. She didn't know how, but she could feel it. She knew him. On top of that, she knew that her father was hiding something from her—something important. She never said anything about her dream being off-planet. Her father knew something he wasn't telling her.
On Tatooine, deep in the Jundland Wastes Luke curled in on himself, clutching his head. Outside, he could hear the Tuskens moving about their camp. Desperately, Luke parted his cracked lips and let out a piteous cry, too soft and weak to bring any attention to him. Accepting the darkness, he felt his eyes slide shut, and then he knew no more until he was awakened by a gentle touch and a cool rag on his forehead. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring into the kind eyes of his aunt.
"Aunt Beru?" He asked, trembling slightly.
The woman stroked his forehead, her eyes filled with tears. "It's alright, Luke, you're home."
Outside the room, he could hear two deep voices talking tensely. From the tension he could feel, he guessed that they were fighting. He recognized the voice of Uncle Owen, but not the other man. "Who is Uncle Owen talking to?" He asked softly.
Before she could answer, though, the curtain was pulled away and his uncle entered the room, followed by another man. Luke struggled to sit up, and his gaze sharpened when his eyes met the man's. Tentatively, he reached out in his mind and touched the light that was the man's life-force, as he'd always been able to do. This time was different, however, because he felt the man brush against his mind in a similar way. The boy gasped. "I know you! I've felt you before! I don't remember though—It's as though it was in a dream."
Instantly, the other man withdrew from him, and Luke was left alone in the abyss of what he could not yet know as the Force.
"I am glad you are feeling better now, young Luke. You gave me quite a scare."
"How do I know you, sir?"
"I am not sure what you mean, young Luke. I have never met you. I do not see how you could know me," When the man spoke, Luke thought he could detect a Coruscant accent.
Luke's eyes narrowed. "You're lying to me."
"Luke!" Beru admonished.
The man chuckled. "It is alright, Beru. I shall leave you now. Recover well, young Luke. Owen, please consider that of which we spoke."
"Fat chance, old man."