The only thing different here is that Anakin Skywalker, in his original unwounded form, is the emperor of the galaxy. There is no Death Star. Artoo contains the coordinates of all the rebel strongholds (which means, by default, that Alderaan hasn't been destroyed). This takes place the exact same time as ANH, and Luke has just discovered what the stormtroopers did to his Aunt and Uncle. Star Wars belongs to George Lucas, don't reprint without my permission. Thanks for reading.
A Life Rediscovered
I kept telling myself that it wasn't possible, it couldn't have been possible. The Empire didn't care about Tatooine. That was what Biggs said, and Biggs was always right. He had to be right this time. But I knew that the column of smoke in the distance couldn't be coming from anywhere else. But still, I let myself hope. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked.
It was. The only place I had ever known, the farm where I had spent my entire life, had been reduced to a smoking hole in the ground. I turned away in grief, not daring to search for the bodies I knew were there. Squinting up into the twin suns, I tried to make myself feel something, anything. It was horrible. It wasn't fair. They didn't even know where the droids were! What did the damn Empire gain from killing them? Even these thoughts, awful and true as they were, didn't make me cry. It wasn't like their deaths orphaned me. I had always been an orphan. Now, at least, I was free from the life of farming and servitude to Uncle Owen that had surely awaited me. Now, I could go with Ben and be a Jedi like my father.
"Freeze!"
The noise itself spun me around to face a squadron of stormtroopers, all with rifles drawn and pointing at me. It was almost humorous. Ten troopers, ten blasters, for me? A weaponless eighteen year old? The tension almost made me grin. An officer stepped forward from the gleaming white ranks.
"Luke Skywalker?"
Sith! What was going on? I wasn't home, so now they were going to finish the job? It wasn't fair! I hadn't lived yet. I had never been off the farm, never seen space, never flown a fighter, never even had any real friends. And now I was going to be shot like a criminal. I hadn't even done anything. I hadn't done anything. No one had. And now my life was over.
I didn't notice my hands shaking with the fear I felt, but apparently, that saved my life. The officer asked me where the droids were, but I didn't even hear, so wrapped up in my thoughts was I. I was shocked out of my reverie only when the troopers cuffed my wrists in front of me and dragged me roughly to a nearby transport, where I was strapped into a back seat. I didn't know where they were taking me—probably to a station in Mos Eisley. But soon, the transport stopped and I was moved into a ship. Of course, I didn't get to sit anywhere near a window to watch takeoff. Well, I had always wanted to get off Tatooine. It looked like this was my chance. I hadn't thought I would be leaving to face torture and death, though. But I wouldn't tell where the droids were. The Empire killed my father, and they would get nothing from me.
From the smaller ship, I was moved to a detention cell in what I assumed was a larger ship. At least they finally freed my hands. But now I was surrounded by four white walls and nothing else. And I was freezing. The white surfaces made the light almost unbearably bright, but the light had no warmth to it. I couldn't let myself be homesick. It would be too embarrassing, to have spent my whole life wanting to get off-planet and then miss it within…how long had it been? I had no chrono; I felt like I was living in a timeless dreamworld of some sort.
Sometime in the endless white surrounding me, I thought that maybe they wouldn't kill me. Ben and the droids had to have moved on right now—they could even be halfway to Alderaan, for all I knew. I could tell the Imperials that I was going to turn them in when I got to Mos Eisley, but I was captured before I could do it. Or I could tell them nothing except that the Emperor had killed my father. I was going to die anyway. It didn't matter. I had a sudden image of me spitting on my executioner before he pulled the trigger and I couldn't help laughing. It made the situation a little more bearable.
When the door to my cell finally opened, I prepared myself for the worst. A large blond man entered and I stared up at him, trying to look defiant, but all he did was look at me. And the more we looked at each other, the less threatened I was by him, and the more familiar he felt. Suddenly, I had an odd, uncomfortable feeling that I was being picked apart, almost as if my mind were being invaded. It's crazy, I know, but it still made me squirm under the man's piercing blue eyes. Like mine. In some way, some inexplicable way, I felt horribly inadequate.
"Luke?" The man's voice was gentle, not at all what I expected an interrogator to sound like.
"Who are you?"
"You may call me…Ani. I'm here to talk to you."
Oh, so that was it. They were going to win my trust in hopes that I would just tell them. Well, that wouldn't fool me. I stared into his eyes. "I don't know where the droids are. And I wouldn't tell you if I did."
The man smiled, completely blowing my mind. This was not the way things were supposed to happen. Imperials weren't supposed to be friendly. "You don't need to worry about the droids. That's not what I'm here about."
"Then what do you want?"
"I want to talk about you," the man said gently. He sat next to me and stretched his long body out, leaning against the wall. It didn't make me uncomfortable at all, being so close to him. "Tell me about yourself."
"Me? Why?"
"I'm curious."
That was a stupid reason. I had no reason to talk, but still, I felt strangely compelled to. This stranger seemed kind, like someone I would want to trust. Someone I could trust. And there was no harm in telling him about me, as long as I didn't talk about the droids, or Ben, or the beautiful princess. "Where should I start?"
"Where did you grow up? What was your life like?"
Just the topic I wanted to start with. A life I hated that had been stolen from me. I tried to compose myself before I started talking, but my voice still felt shaky to me. "I grew up on my aunt and uncle's farm on Tatooine. They…" I stopped, suddenly out of breath. "They're dead now. You killed them. The Empire killed them to get the droids. They killed them and burned my house down."
"I'm sorry." And the thing is, I think he really was. "You must understand the need for security."
"No," I said flatly. "I don't. Not when it involves killing people. Killing people is wrong."
"Would you have killed the troopers to protect your family?"
"If they were trying to kill us. My aunt and uncle didn't even know where the droids were!"
"It's complicated, I know. I'll explain it to you later."
"If I have a later," I said bitterly. It was odd, the concept that I probably didn't have a tomorrow to look forward to. Almost as if he could sense my despair, Ani pushed forward to a topic I was just as emotional about.
"Why did you live with your aunt and uncle? What happened to your parents?"
My parents. Not an hour went by when I didn't think of my father, but my mother rarely crossed my mind. That had ceased to bother me long ago, for some reason. I just felt more connected to my father. "My mother died when I was born, and my father…well, Uncle Owen wouldn't tell me anything about him, other than that he was a navigator on a spice freighter, but Ben told me the Emperor killed him. He was a powerful Jedi, and the best pilot in the galaxy," I said proudly. "If I ever get the chance, which is doubtful, I'm going to avenge his death. Somehow."
Oddly enough, Ani seemed to be holding back laughter, which bothered me. It wasn't funny! How would he like it if someone had killed his father?"
"I can see I've angered you, young one. I'm sorry. It was not my intent. I just find it amusing that you put such blind faith in what these people have told you."
"Why would they lie?"
"Perhaps it bettered their means."
Bettered their means? I could see Uncle Owen lying—he'd always seemed to have something against my father, but to think of old Ben as having hidden motives didn't make any sense. "That's ridiculous."
"Perhaps. You'll understand soon."
"Right," I muttered skeptically as we lapsed into silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence. I didn't feel at all as if we were pressed for time, or as if Ani had any purpose in talking to me other than just that: talking.
"Tell me about life on the farm."
That was easy enough. It's not like I ever did anything outside of the routine. "It was the only life I knew, really. I had one friend, Biggs, but he joined the Academy and left. I wanted to, but Uncle Owen wouldn't let me. He didn't want me flying at all. I used to sneak out to Beggar's Canyon to fly my T-16 sometimes." I smiled at the memory, the remembered feel of speed coursing through my body. "I could thread the stone needle at full speed."
"An impressive feat. You're quite a pilot."
"I think I inherited that from my father." Ani nodded, almost imperceptibly, but I caught it. "What?"
"What?"
"You nodded. I saw you. Did you know him?"
"No, I was just thinking."
"About what?"
"Did you love him?"
"Who?"
"Your uncle."
I'd never thought talking could be this difficult. I felt totally at ease with this man, but this was an area that I had deliberately avoided my entire life. "I guess so." It was the right answer, the expected answer, but it didn't feel right to me. "I mean, he raised me. But I don't think he loved me. I think…I know I was a horrible burden. He made that perfectly clear." Not that I was bitter about my loveless life at all. It would be over soon anyway. "I didn't even cry when I found him and Aunt Beru today," I whispered.
"If you could bring him back, would you?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. I knew the answer, but to say it would brand me, if only in my own eyes, as the most heartless, ungrateful charge to ever live.
"Would you?" Ani repeated.
"Please, don't ask me that," I pleaded.
"Why?"
"I was trapped with him!" I cried. "I couldn't leave while he still lived. I don't want to be a farmer. I want to be a pilot like my father."
"Luke—"
"It's not my fault, is it?"
"What isn't?" he asked softly.
"I don't know." I shook my head, dejected. "My aunt and uncle, my father, everything." I spoke the thought that had been rolling around in my head all day. "If I had been there—"
"Then you'd have been killed and the droids would be in the hands of the Empire. And I would be a much unhappier man than I am now."
"Why?" That didn't make sense—he was an Imperial, why shouldn't he want the droids? I looked into his eyes and saw something there, something unspoken but plainly obvious. "Who are you?"
"I am Anakin Skywalker. I am your father."
When I had imagined this moment at least once every day, I had pictured it much differently, much more emotional. But now, I just felt strangely detached, as if I had stepped out of my body and was nothing more than an objective observer. I couldn't even process the information. I attempted to speak, but just stammered something incoherent.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to raise you, but it's all going to change now."
Still unable to process what I was hearing, I forced out the only thoughts running through my head, the thoughts that had shaped my reality until a mere thirty seconds ago. "My father…no, that's impossible. The Emperor killed my father!"
"Luke, that's what Ben Kenobi told you. The truth is, I am the Emperor."
"What?" I blurted. That was enough to shock me back into reality. "But…why would Ben lie to me? Why did everyone lie?" Not only had I lost my fragile view of the world I lived in, but my dreams of becoming a Jedi to avenge my father had just been destroyed as well.
"Our…political views differed."
"Political views? That's no reason to lie to someone their entire life!"
"I use the term loosely. I can't explain it now without having to get into much more detail than we have time for, but you'll understand eventually."
"I don't believe you." I couldn't believe him. "My father wouldn't have abandoned me. He would have come for me."
"I didn't abandon you, my son. I never would have abandoned you. I didn't even know you existed. I thought your mother died before giving birth to you." The words filled me with warmth that someone would profess to caring about me because of who I was, but I still couldn't accept it. "Look at me, Luke. Can you deny that you see yourself in me?"
"No," I said sullenly. I was running in circles and I knew it. Even if I couldn't feel the truth in his words, just looking at him was enough. He was almost identical to me, just...bigger.
Ani…my father sat up and moved even closer to me. "I know how you've longed for a father—"
"How? How can you have any idea how hard my life was?" No one, except another orphan, could possibly know the agony of growing up without parents that loved them. I didn't even need parents that loved me, just someone to belong to. Wanting a son, something you get if you're lucky, is different from wanting parents, something everyone is supposed to have. But still, I wanted to accept him, to leave my old life as Luke Skywalker, orphan, behind.
"You're my son. Even now I can feel your indecision." He put his large hand over mine, and I suddenly felt even smaller than I know I am. I stared at his hand engulfing mine, feeling the heat passing between us, the connection. "You betray no one in accepting me," he said softly, intensely.
"But my father was a good man," I said weakly. It was my last defense, the last remnant of my saintly, heroic Jedi pilot father.
"I'm not a bad man, Luke, not by any means. I think you'll find that out."
"The Empire is bad. Isn't that what you stand for?"
"Do you know that for sure? Or is that what Kenobi and your uncle told you?"
"I could ask, but my uncle's dead now. On your orders." I tried to hold that thought, the idea that a terrible wrong had been done to me, but even that was slipping through my fingers.
"I'm sorry. I really am. But your aunt and uncle kept you from me. And your life here will be so much better than your life with them. Here, you'll have a father who cares about you. One who loves you." All my life, I had longed to hear those words, but now I found it almost impossible to act on them. "Luke," my father continued, "I grieved for my son when I thought I had lost him. To have you back is beyond my greatest dreams. Please, don't dismiss me because I wasn't given the opportunity to raise you. I want to change all that. I want my son back." He opened his arms.
I was scared. I admit it. I was absolutely terrified to accept this, that the Emperor of the galaxy was my father. It was unreal. But I needed him. And I couldn't deny that need any more than I could deny the desire inside of me, the desire to be normal. "Father?" He pulled me to him, embracing me gently, as if he thought I would break. I realized that I was crying, but I didn't try to stop myself. I needed to cry.
"Welcome home, my son," he said softly.
"Father," I said again. I never wanted to stop saying it. To have a face attached to the name completely changed the meaning of the word, making it new and exciting and wonderful. He pulled away from me, although I clung to him, and wiped the tears gently from my face.
"Let's get you out of here. This is no place for a prince," he smiled
A prince. I was a prince. I had gone from an unloved ward to an orphan to a prince. Belatedly, I realized that I was probably not going to die in the near future. It was a comforting feeling, to say the least. My father's smile became even broader.
"No, you're not."
"What?"
"You're not going to be executed."
"How did you know I was thinking about that?"
"You're projecting your thoughts to me through the Force."
"The Force? Ben talked about that, but he was pretty vague about the whole thing."
"Yes, he would have been. Don't worry, I'll teach you to use it. You have the potential inside of you to be the most powerful man in the galaxy."
I had always known I was meant for more than farming, but I had been thinking of something along the lines of, oh, piloting, maybe. In the last few hours, being a Jedi, but certainly not this. "I'm not sure if I want that. I don't think I could handle ruling the galaxy."
"You will learn. I have faith in you, my son. You will be most powerful."
The praise, the faith that my father placed in me without even knowing me, was unbelievable to me. I had never experienced anything like it. I loved it. "So, what happens now?" I asked.
"Now, we get you your own room with proper clothes." My homespun, sandstained tunic had been fine for Tatooine, I guess, but next to the honed splendor of my father's form-fitting ebony garb, it seemed drastically out of place. I tried, self-consciously, to smooth the wrinkles out of it, but my father caught the motion. "Don't worry about it. It's fine for a farmboy, but you're not a farmboy anymore."
"I guess not." With a possessive hand on my shoulder, my father steered me out of the cell and through the long, stark corridor. I'm not quite sure how, since their faces were hidden behind grotesque white masks, but I knew the guards were staring. I could feel their gazes on me as we traveled. I suppose it was somewhat out of the ordinary, Emperor Skywalker marching a prisoner down the hallway to face some unimaginably horrible fate. And I was just a lowly farmboy (well, that's all I appeared to be), not someone important like the princess. It occurred to me that she could very well be in one of the cells that we were walking passed, and I resolved to ask Father about her as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, I forgot, and it was quite some time before I remembered. I didn't mean to, it's just that I was constantly being bombarded with sensory and emotional overloads. The size of the room we arrived in, the luxury of the furniture all overwhelmed me, but what really drew my attention was the giant window. Running the entire length of one wall, it offered a view of more stars than I had ever seen. I moved to it in wonder, pressing my face to it, trying in vain to see everything. There were two blazingly familiar twin suns, fiery orbs that I had watched set every night longingly, but… "Where's Tatooine?"
"We're facing the wrong way," came my father's voice from behind me. "If the droids leave the planet, we want to be able to follow them as soon as possible."
"I know where they're going." The words were out of my mouth before I had even thought them. I cursed silently as my father spun me around and gripped my shoulders with force that made me gasp.
"Where?" he asked urgently. I opened my mouth, wanting to answer, to show him that I was a good son, but I couldn't. He may have lied, but betraying Ben and the princess…it just didn't feel right.
"I…I don't…" I tried to tell him, but I couldn't even speak.
"Where, Luke?" He pushed me back into the window, pinning me there. Now I was simply too scared to speak. He may have been my father, but he was still a stranger. Who knew what he would do when he was angry? His eyes flitted around my face, almost frantic. "Alderaan," he growled suddenly. He shoved away from me and began speaking into his comlink.
Had the glass not been behind me, barring me from the cold of space, I would have fallen. As it was, I still slid right down the window until my head slumped between my knees. Father stood, his expression one of pure concentration, staring into nothing. Something caught his attention out the window at my back and I turned just in time to see the stars stretch into streaks and explode into a myriad of colors. But the fear and humiliation burned too strongly for me to really appreciate it. Whereas before I had felt loved and wanted, I now felt…used. And scared. He had what he wanted from me. What good was I now? "If I hadn't known…if I wasn't any use to you, would I be here?" I said softly, staring out into hyperspace. "Or would I still be back there, waiting to die?"
He didn't answer. I felt him looking at me, simply looking. His silence was all the answer I needed. I couldn't let myself believe that I was important to him. It was just too hard. I wouldn't let myself cry. I just focused on the glass, breathing slowly. Finally, finally, he spoke. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to treat you that way, but this is important. I can't sacrifice the Empire for you."
"But you can sacrifice me for the Empire," I said darkly.
"I would hardly call a little forcefulness 'sacrifice', child. I admit I was perhaps overly violent, but there was a particular need for haste in this case." He paused, as if he thought that was enough, that his explanations could make things better, but something made him continue. "But even if you hadn't known, you would still be here. Just the fact that you are my son makes you useful to me."
It didn't make sense to me. I had to be useful somehow, in some other way than just simply offering moral support. "How did you find me?"
"When Obi-Wan stole you from me, he made the foolish mistake of letting you keep my surname. The Commander in charge of the operation noticed first your name and then your striking similarity to me and had you brought in for questioning."
"Torture, you mean."
"Yes, simply because I wouldn't have gone on the mission myself. We saw how easily I was able to get the information out of you otherwise. If I had the time, we would have very little need for torture, other than the intimidation factor. The Princess, the girl the droids really belong to, hasn't responded to torture or my mind probes. She has remarkable natural shielding."
"Is she still here?" I tried to keep the excitement out of my voice, but it was difficult. My father looked at me quizzically, puzzled. "Oh…" I felt my cheeks coloring. "There was a message from her to Ben on the R2 unit. She was asking for help."
"How sweet. And you thought to help her?" I nodded, suddenly ashamed to ever think that I could have helped her at all. "You do realize that you're not exactly in that position anymore, don't you?"
"I know!" I snapped, angry. "I'm not stupid."
Strangely, maddeningly enough, Father smiled. "You've had a hard life. You've been ridiculed for your imagination. But rather than subdue you, as your uncle hoped it would, it has made you sensitive, and only enhanced your longing for me." He kneeled beside me, looking deep into my eyes. "But the Skywalker anger runs strong in you. As does the Force."
"Fabulous," I muttered, averting my eyes. I wasn't impressed. It was all true, but I didn't have to like it. In fact, I was really rather annoyed. And, of course, he knew.
"What is it now?"
"I wish you wouldn't do that!" I exploded.
"Do what?" Sith, he was so damn calm! I couldn't stand it.
"Know things! I don't like it when you pull things out of my head like it's nothing. I wish you didn't seem so sure that you've got me entirely figured out. I know nothing about you and I'm trying to figure it out! But you seem to know everything about me already. If you can do it, I want to be able to do it too."
"I'm not necessarily doing it on purpose."
"Necessarily?"
"You're my son. You want me to know you. You may not understand it, but you're sending to me."
"I'm what?"
"Sending. Through the Force. Don't worry, I'll teach you to do it too. You will be a powerful Sith Lord."
"Sith Lord? But, Ben said you were a Jedi."
"You honestly still believe anything he told you?"
"I…I don't know." He couldn't have lied about everything, could he?
"You will soon. Still, I can't understand why he gave you my name. Or why he at didn't even change it when I took the throne."
I had a flash, an image, a picture in my head. "My mother…" I whispered. But then it was gone. Hearing my father's sharp intake of breath beside me, I shrank away, remembering what happened last time I spoke before thinking.
"No, I can't take that from you," he said, allaying my fears. "It's not at the forefront of your thoughts. But you must remember."
I shook my head. "I can't. I have no memory of my mother. I don't know what I was thinking."
"You can. I'll help you."
"But—"
"You must," he said, almost harshly. He put one hand on my shoulder and one on my face. His hands were warm, soothing my tumultuous emotions. "Close your eyes and relax." I did, breathing slowly and focusing on the darkness. "Now, open yourself to the Force. You've done it before when you flew. You know how."
I remembered the feeling when I flew threw the twists and turns of Beggar's Canyon, how the speed made me feel like anything was possible. I tried to regain it, but I couldn't quite duplicate it. I could only remember it. "I can't."
"You can," he whispered forcefully. "If I had raised you, you could, effortlessly. It's Kenobi's fault. Kenobi and your aunt and uncle! You can't even remember your mother because of them."
"No!" I growled. I could do it. I knew I could. I reached at the tendrils floating just out of reach in the darkness. My anger fueled my adrenaline and this time, I grabbed them in my fists, inhaling them.
It was like I had been underwater all my life and was breathing for the first time. I gasped, almost afraid, but my father's hands were steadying and his voice guided me. "No, it's alright. I'm helping you. The Force allows you to see things you haven't seen before, to remember things long forgotten. I want you to remember your mother." I was doubtful, but the least I could do was try. I thought of my mother, of my name, of whatever it was that had brought the image to me, and there it was. I was looking right at her.
"Mother," I said, trying to reach for her, but my father's voice stopped me.
"She can't hear you. You're not really there. Just watch."
She was crying, and I longed to be able to comfort her, to do anything to make her know me. I'd never missed her so much as I did now. In her arms were two infants, one that I recognized immediately as me.
Two?
My thoughts were torn from the other child as Ben Kenobi entered. He was younger, much younger, but it was him all the same. He spoke in a voice that was much more rushed, more vulnerable, less patient. "Padme, I must take him. I can wait no longer."
She shuddered, pulling them (or was it us?) close to her chest. "Is there no other way?"
"No, there's not. The girl is in less danger—she's bonded with you and you can stay with her. But Luke, he's searching for his father, and his call is getting louder with every passing moment."
"But surely there must be some other alternative…" She was pleading now and my heart ached for the family I could have had. I could feel my father getting angrier and angrier with each passing second.
"You know there's not. They're the future of the galaxy. Luke will defeat the Empire."
My shoulder began to hurt and I numbly realized that my father's hands had clenched into fists, but I stared in wonder at this scene that was shaping my entire life. My mother, Padme, spoke again. "I don't want him to fight his father. Anakin is—"
"Is not the same man you fell in love with. You know that."
"I can't believe it, Obi Wan. I've felt it. He still loves me."
"Padme, you're letting your emotions cloud your judgement." His patience was wearing thin, I could tell. "He will kill you if he finds you. And your children."
"No."
"Yes. He is dead, Padme. Dead."
She slumped almost imperceptibly, defeated. "Where will you take him?"
"I'm taking Luke to my brother Owen on Tatooine. I'll be nearby to watch over him and shield him, and Owen will raise him well."
"Is that a promise?"
"I'll be nearby. I'll care for him."
"No, you'll turn him into a weapon for your vengeance. Obi Wan, I can't allow it! I can't."
"Padme!" He kneeled in front of her, boring into her eyes with his and speaking in a hypnotic voice. "With every delay, Anakin gets closer to discovering the source of the cries he hears. And when he does, he will kill you. And if we're lucky, he'll kill the children as well. He cannot be allowed to take them. I'll kill them myself if need be."
"I won't let you. The children can save him," she said fervently. "He can love them."
"And what if he doesn't? His children will grow up as weapons for the Empire. Wouldn't you rather them be weapons for the greater good?"
"His name. It must be Skywalker."
"Padme, that's dangerous."
"I don't care." Her voice was ice, almost scaring me. "You said yourself you'll be near him. Protect him from the Empire if you feel it necessary, but he keeps his father's name. He must know his heritage someday."
He nodded solemnly. "Very well."
"I wish she could keep her father's name as well, but Alderaan is too public a planet for that. I know…" her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes tightly for a moment. "I know I'll be with my little girl, but you must promise me you'll watch over Luke. And if it's at all safe, please, I want to know something of him as he grows."
"I'll try. I promise." He reached to take me from her and I wanted wildly to run and stop him, to stay with my mother and sister until my father could find us and make me whole again. But I couldn't. I was helpless to change my past and I hated it. My mother pulled me away from Ben's grasp one last time.
"My babies," she whispered. "You'll meet again someday. I promise you. I love you both, Luke and Leia Skywalker."
My head hit glass hard as I was wrenched violently from my memories. It hurt too badly for me to even curse, so I just moaned and slid onto my side, trying to catch my breath. I never would have thought that remembering could be so exhausting. I wanted nothing more than to lay there until I slept, but my father's anger brought me back to wakefulness. Somehow, in the daze I had been in, I had missed him knocking three chairs on their sides and had halving a table with his lightsaber, and even my untrained senses could feel the fury in the air. Something inside me realized that it had been my father that had broken the memory dream when he slammed me into the window, but I didn't care. I just watched silently as he stood there over the smoking wood, his lightsaber clutched in his shaking fist. After a few tense moments, he let it drop, the kill switch extinguishing the blade as it fell. He dropped to his knees, then finally looked at me, deep sadness in his eyes.
"I came for you," he said in a shaking voice, one that I had never heard from him. It scared me to see him so weak. "I did. I didn't know it was you, but I knew someone was calling for me. If I had found you…I would have kept you. I would have. I loved her." His voice dropped to a savage whisper. "I loved her! And Obi Wan poisoned her against me. And stole my children. My son. And my daughter…Sith, my daughter!"
I had trouble finding my voice through the lump in my throat, but it finally came. "Daughter? I have a sister…Oh, Stars…" If I thought finding my father was a shock, this entire memory…I started to cry. I didn't mean to, and I certainly didn't want to, but I couldn't stop. I cried for me and my wasted life, and for my mother and her sacrifice, and for Ben and his betrayal, and for my aunt and uncle and everything they stood for, and for my father and his loss, and for my sister. My sister. This entire day had been too much. I wasn't sure if I had lost or gained more. And the tears kept coming, increasing the pain in my head and throat until my body shook with sobs and cold. After what seemed like a long time, I felt my father's strong arms encircle me.
"Be still, Luke. Be still. It's over. You've had a long day, a hard day, but it's over. Everything will be fine." He picked me up and carried me like I was a doll, laying me on something soft and covering me with a warm blanket. "It will be cold tonight, but I will keep you warm. I will keep you safe." I felt his lips brush my forehead, shocking me. I hadn't experienced a caress that loving or intimate…probably since my mother had given me up. I was still thinking about it when I fell asleep.
I woke up sometime later shivering. Being cold was an entirely foreign feeling to me, so it took me a minute to grasp what was happening. The bed I was in had soft sheets and a cloud-like mattress, more comfortable than anything I'd ever had back home. I burrowed deeper under the blankets, but all the same, I shook. I couldn't see where my father was, but I felt that he was still in the room with me somewhere. He'd promised to keep me warm. I felt more than a little forgotten, but I didn't want to wake him. I curled into a fetal position, trying to conserve body heat, when I heard his voice floating to me.
"Tatooine is a hard planet to live on, but it's an even harder planet to leave. I remember when I left; I didn't sleep at all the entire first night from the cold. I'm sorry I allowed you to feel this way. It won't happen again. Sleep now. I promise, you will not wake again tonight."
That's the end of chapter one—chapter two's coming soon. Feedback is welcome!