Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, or any characters in it.
Authors Note: Something I wanted to work on in between writing "Unknown Regions." Kind of random, but I thought it would be interesting.
The cockpit was illuminated in a red light. Warning beacons screeched from every corner. Vibrations shook the hull as red and green lasers narrowly missed the small freighter.
"Skywalker, get us the Kriff out of here!"
Anakin wiped sweat off his brow, and tried to concentrate on the display in front of him.
"I'm trying! Just, give me a minute!" He shouted back. The cockpit filled with green as a tracer beamed past the view ports.
"Almost there… Almost…" His hand worked furiously as he worked the controls.
"Skywalker, now! It doesn't matter where you take us, just get us out!"
The ship rocked as a laser hit it. The lights flickered. Anakin knew that it mattered where. Wrong coordinates and you could end up in an asteroid field, planets gravitational field, or even a sun. The ship rocked again, and Anakin heard someone scream out in pain. Or maybe fear. He himself wasn't afraid. He couldn't be. They were relying on him. Only he could save them. A few buttons later they were ready. He nodded to the captain, and the freighter lurched into hyperspace. Anakin sighed deeply, and the captain slapped him on the back.
"Good work, kid."
Anakin smiled. He knew he did good. They would drop off their load, and he would see his wife. And he would quit. They would raise their son, and be a family. And Anakin would never worry about spice again. A quick beep alerted him that they were approaching the drop off point. Anakin counted down.
"Drop in 5-4-3-2-"The ship jumped out, and the engines stuttered. The star lines cleared, and the planet below became visible. Anakin pushed his display out of the way. His work was done. Now it was up to the pilot to bring the ship in. Slowly, a gray shadow crept across the ship, and entered the cockpit from the viewports. Anakin strained his neck to see what it was. A sight to his right caught his eye, and he turned to face it. Red lasers from the fighter raced towards them. Anakin knew there was no outrunning them. They found him, and they were going to kill him. He would never see his son. The freighter exploded into a fireball, debris fell towards the planet below.
Luke jumped out of bed, gasping for air. His face was covered in sweat, and the Tattooine heat had nothing to do with it. He rubbed his eyes as his breathing returned to normal. His head swirled when he remembered his dream. It wasn't the first time he'd had it. In the past, he woke up screaming or crying, and Aunt Beru would try to comfort him. Uncle Owen would stand in the doorway and look at him. He would look sad, almost hurt. Beru would pour him some blue milk, and he would pretend to go back to sleep. But he would never sleep. He would lie awake, and think about his dream. His dream about his father. Luke rubbed his aching head, and pulled on his boots. He knew there was plenty of work today, and Owen would need him at his best. And if he could, he would escape to Anchorhead and Tosche Station. He hoped. He went over to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of blue milk. Aunt Beru looked over at him, and frowned.
"Same dream, Luke?"
He looked down at his cup.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah." He looked up at her, and smiled. "I'm fine."
"Okay." He knew she didn't believe him. "Your Uncle is looking for you, Luke. The Jawa's are here, and he wants you outside with him."
"Okay." Luke chugged the rest of his drink and ran outside into the hot suns.
The bed on Yavin was hard. It was stone, Luke thought. It was hard like stone. And cold. Luke promised himself that if, when, he ever got off of Tattooine he would never complain about it being cold. He would be happy for it. He just never realized how cold the rest of the galaxy was. He huddled against the blanket and tried to sleep. All around him were the sounds of frantic packing and dismantling of the Rebels Yavin base. Although they succeeded in destroying the Death Star, the Rebel leaders insisted on moving on to another base. Everyone was loading the transports with whatever would fit on them. Everyone but the Death Star strike team. Luke insisted that he could help, that he wasn't tired, but nobody listened to him. He was glad, now. The battle took more out of him then he'd thought. He'd joined Han and Chewie and a couple of the other pilots for a celebratory drink, but Luke never enjoyed drinking. What he really wanted was some blue milk, but was too embarrassed to ask. So instead, he lay in his cold room on top of the stone bed, and thought. About the battle. About rescuing Leia. About Bens death. About Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru's death. And about his father. Ben told Luke the truth about his father. How he was killed by Vader. Luke wondered why Owen lied to him this whole time. And hoped the dreams would go away. With that last prayer, he laid his head down, and closed his eyes.
Somewhere above a bird chirped. A loud, long, chirp. Almost like a screech. Anakin glanced up, and gripped his lightsaber tighter. A light ran drizzled across the forest. Anakin leapt over a vine in his way. He could hear the distant sound of Imperials. Up ahead, he knew Darth Vader was waiting for him. Together, they could restore the galaxy to peace. When Anakin reached the clearing, he saw Vader standing there.
"Were you followed?" He asked as he stepped up to the man. Vader's metallic breathing echoed across the dense jungle.
"No. But they are close."
Anakin nodded, and looked around. "Where are the others?" He asked Vader. "You said there were others?"
Vader nodded to him.
"There were."
Anakin looked back at Vader, and stared into his dark, artificial, eyes.
"Were?" He asked. His hand sweated around the lightsaber hilt.
Vader nodded over towards the river, and Anakin hesitantly walked over towards it. When he reached it, he saw what Vader meant. Lying face down in the mud were three more Jedi. All very young.
"Vader, Who did this?"
Darth Vader slowly extracted his lightsaber.
"I did." The river reflected the red from Vaders saber. "Just as I will kill you now."
Anakin's lightsaber erupted into a blade a blue-white, and he gripped it with both hands.
"Why, Vader? How could you?"
Vaders lightsaber rose above his head. In one powerful motion, he brought it down towards Anakins head. Anakin parried, and thrust. Vader stepped out of the way.
"Power. I needed the power, Anakin. Don't you understand? The Emperor promised me everything. Everything, Anakin. How could I say no? What would you do?"
Anakin swung his saber towards Vader's head, which he easily blocked.
"What would I do?" Anakin asked. "How can you ask that, Vader?"
Anakin took a step back. Tears clouded his vision. All that he loved had been destroyed. And now his friend Darth Vader had betrayed him. Betrayed them all. Vader faked for Anakin's body. Anakin swung his blade low, and Vader's red blade swung for Anakin's head. Anakin tried to swing his blade up, but Vader was too fast, and the balde-
Luke awoke with a start. He gave a gasp as he saw someone standing in front of him.
"Luke, you alright?" Wedge asked.
Luke slowly let his breathing return to normal. "Yeah… sorry."
Wedge smiled at him. "Don't be. Nightmares?"
Luke looked up at him. "Yeah, how'd you-"
"Listen kid, you've been through a lot. And I'm just talking about since I've met you. A few nightmares are normal, okay?"
Luke nodded. "Thanks, Wedge."
"Hey, no problem. Listen, sometimes, I still dream about some battles. Where I'm killed, or we fail and other people are killed. So don't worry about some dreams, huh?"
Luke didn't bother mentioning that his dream wasn't about him.
"We're leaving base in a few. Anything you want before we go?"
Luke chewed his lip thinking.
"Wedge, would anybody think down on me for asking for a glass of blue milk?"
Wedge smiled, then laughed.
"Kid, you just blew up the kriffin' Death Star. No one's going to think down on you."
Luke smiled, and then joined Wedge in laughing.
"Come on, let's get you some blue milk and then let's get off this rock."
Luke grabbed his bag, and followed Wedge out.
Even in his current delirious state, with as much bacta in his veins as Leia could put in, Luke knew it wasn't true. It couldn't be. There was no way Vader was his father. It was a lie. After all, Ben had told him that Vader killed his father. Vader was the Emperors personal enforcer. Vader was trying to destroy the Rebellion, and capture Luke. There was no way that monster was his Father. It was impossible. And yet, somehow, Luke knew it was true. Sitting on that antenna for however long, clutching his arm, fighting back the tears that wanted so desperately to come, he had comes to terms with it. Almost. He always imagined that his Father was more than the spice navigator that Owen had told Luke he was. And when Ben told him he was a Jedi, murdered by Vader, it made sense. But now? Now nothing made sense. Luke tried to roll over, and Leia held him still. She was still by his side. Her simply being there comforted him. But it wasn't her he was thinking of. It was Vader. And Ben. Ben had deliberately lied to him. Yoda had done almost as bad, going along with the lie, stringing him along. This was something he needed to have known before. At least then he could have prepared for facing his father in combat. Luke heard something from the cockpit, and Leia left him. Then all at once his mind went blank. He could think nothing. There was nothing. Then a voice. Faint, at first, but grew. It was the voice of Vader. The voice of his father.
"Son."