Obligatory Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, places, most of the back stories, or any of the Star Wars movies or TV series. I'm not making any money off of them, either; I'm simply doing this for the fun of it. So don't come after me, Disney!


OOO

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away…

It is a period of galactic confusion. Young Luke Skywalker, last of the Jedi line and ace pilot responsible for the destruction of the notorious Death Star, has disappeared, along with Leia Organa, former Princess of Alderaan, and cocky flyboy smuggler Han Solo.

Meanwhile, Jedi Knights Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, and Anakin's beautiful wife, Padmé Amidala, face a puzzling new dilemma: they have been abruptly thrust onto an unfamiliar planet, with no logical explanation in sight. In addition, Obi-Wan seems to have become... younger.

In the midst of this muddle, no one seems to notice the young scavenger, renegade Stormtrooper, and star Resistance pilot who seem to have slipped in while everyone was distracted…

The Millennium Falcon hovered motionlessly, surrounded by the black emptiness of space. The encompassing stars remained frozen around the immobile ship as small pinpoints of light— cold, distant, and unblinking. Princess Leia Organa stood at the cockpit window, slamming her palms down onto the dashboard in front of her.

"What the…"

Her friend Luke Skywalker appeared at her side, brushing his blond bangs out of his eyes as he stared out in bewilderment as well. He turned to the man in the pilot's chair in disbelief. "What did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything, I swear!" Han Solo pushed himself out of his seat, arms thrown out in an air of frustration. "It's not my fault! Why is everything my fault?" He stood, running a hand through his scruffy hair, joining the two in a stunned surveyance of the celestial bodies around them.

The large, furry creature beside him let out a gargled roar.

"No, I did not, Chewie! I swear I didn't touch a thing! Why couldn't Luke have done something clumsy, which is not unusual, and flipped a couple of switches?"

"Wha—Hey!"

Han ignored his friend's indignant protest and bent to switch on the navicomputer, punching the keys in viciously as though playing an especially fervid piece on a piano. The screen blinked in annoyance, informing the three friends that there was nothing wrong with the navigational coordinates.

"I never punched those coordinates in!" Solo protested, turning to his skeptical companions. "These are points for somewhere on the very outskirts of the Outer Rim. Don't tell me we jumped all the way from the rebel base on Hoth to here in a split second!" He gave the navicomputer an irritable smack. "Because that's what just happened."

"That's impossible," Luke scoffed. "No ship can travel that distance in that time. Hoth is thousands of lightyears from the Outer Rim; it would take weeks to get this far out."

Chewie howled in agreement.

"And yet here we are," Han drawled.

Leia waved a hand impatiently. "I don't care where we are, or even how we got here. Just get us out of here, Han!"

The former smuggler didn't drop his snide tone as he skirted around her to fall into his pilot's chair once again. "Sure thing, Your Highness." He began punching commands into the computer again.

Luke turned back to peering out of the cockpit window, biting his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I wonder where we are."

Han was forced to duck under Chewbacca's furry outstretched arm in order to glance over at his friend. "The navigational coordinates say we're in someplace called the Ahch-To system." He paused, frowning. "I've never heard of that system before."

Leia sighed, wondering how on Alderaan she ever became mixed up with these two idiots. "And that's important because…?"

Han ran a hand through his scruffy hair again, muttering. "I've spent a whole lot of time in the Outer Rim sectors of the galaxy, sweetheart, and this certain system has never popped up once, even in passing."

Leia's lips tensed at the patronizing nickname, pressing together in a solid, formidable line. She leaned across the console: "Who cares?" The princess began pacing, muttering something under her breath that sounded a lot like 'laser brains'.

It's almost as though this place is supposed to be a secret," Luke spoke up softly, finally surfacing from his philosophical ruminations on the stars. "As though someone or something meant to keep it hidden." He turned to glance back at the others, his crystalline blue eyes wide. "And we were meant to find it."

"Oh please," Han reclined in his chair with a scoff. "Don't start telling us this is 'fate'. I've had quite enough of that Jedi hocus-pocus and 'everything happens for a reason' stuff." A notification blinked up on the screen, and Han peered at it. "Afraid getting back to the base is going to be a bit of a problem, Your Worship. We're critically low on fuel."

"What? Since when?" Leia shoved him out of the way to stare at the screen in disbelief.

"I told you it was a bad habit to wait until the last drop to get a fuel-up," Luke remarked. "Procrastination never has the conclusion we hope for."

"Some good solid advice from your old Jedi friend? A lot of good it did him." Solo scowled, flipping a couple switches briskly. The Millennium Falcon pinged in response, maneuvering into a nose-dive position.

"What are you doing?" Leia demanded, as the ship began its descent towards the nondescript blue-grey planet below them.

"Landing," The smuggler replied smoothly. "Looks like we're going to be here for a while, whether we like it or not."


The surface of the planet of Ahch-To consisted nearly completely of the tossing waves of a restless sea, with a few jagged rock formations jutting out here and there, repeatedly lashed by the waves. Here, among the creatures who called the cheerless mass of scattered rocks and brackish water home, by far the majority spent their days under the foaming waves of the ocean. The few who did not possess flippers, fins, or aquatic respiration lived in isolation, scattered across the planet's rugged islands.

Underneath the broody, overcast sky, one particular island sat bravely amid the battering seaspray; Ahch-To Island itself. Through the thick, curling mist hovering about the island's peak, three figures stood on a wind-buffeted overhang, their clothing snapping vigorously in the breeze.

Obi-Wan Kenobi tilted his head, taking in the crash of the waves against the shore, the bitter salty tang in the air, and the sodden clouds above before turning back to his apprentice.

"All right, Anakin. What did you do?"

Anakin Skywalker spun from squinting into the mist to turn to his master in protest. "Nothing, Master! I've been behaving myself, just as you said. Why is everything my fault?" he demanded.

The older Jedi sighed, and rubbed his face wearily. "Because it usually is…"

Anakin decided to ignore his Master's pointed comment, and instead returned to surveying their surroundings, scratching his head in perplexity. It wasn't much to look at, however, and Anakin's eye halted at by far the most attractive aspect of the landscape—Padmé Amidala.

His voice softened into a low, near-mumbling tone, as though he were merely talking to himself. "One moment we're chasing assassins on Kortzoa, the next—bam. We're here. Padmé wasn't even with us then, but she's here now!"

Of course, the young apprentice couldn't complain about that part; he was quite happy to be reunited with his loving wife since they were separated soon after their secret marriage a few weeks ago.

He finally turned from gazing with a sappy expression at her face to look at his mentor reluctantly: there was a far bigger elephant in the room to discuss.

"And then we have… well… you, Master." Anakin began slowly, as though he were addressing a potentially dangerous animal or attempting to disarm a particularly tricky explosive; there was no telling how his master was going to react.

"Yes? What about me?" Obi-Wan glanced at his apprentice quizzically. He noticed the hesitant way in which his padawan addressed him, as well as the considerable size Padmé's eyes had widened to—they were both staring at him. Bewildered, he glanced down at himself for any clue as to what they were so concerned about. Had he just come down with the symptoms for a deadly disease? Turned a bright shade of purple? Perhaps he'd just sprouted another head?

The latter seemed the most likely of the three, as Anakin appeared to be struggling to control a bizarre urge to laugh. Kenobi sighed inwardly, wondering what new development Anakin had discovered this time in which to ridicule him by.

He tilted his head back, addressing the weepy sky above wearily. "All right, you two. Spit it out."

Padmé was the first to speak, fiddling with the japor snippet pendant around her neck. "Well… Obi-Wan…" she began uncomfortably, "It—you look… young."

Anakin burst out laughing and nearly fell over backward, slipping on the mist-dusted surface of the island as he exaggerated his mirth. Padmé shot him a strained look before continuing.

"...Very… um… young."

"What?" Obi-Wan looked from one to the other, desperate for an explanation.

Anakin was trying but failing miserably to talk while laughing. "Well—it's just as Padmé said—Master—it seems you—you've become—"

Obi-Wan threw his hands in the air in exasperation, cutting the teen off. "—Younger? I don't—what do you—what does that even mean? Are you saying that I'm a—a young child with a man's body, because I don't notice anything different!" He thrust his hands out, turning them over as he eyed both sides of them suspiciously. "A little clarification would be nice!"

At the mental image procured by this bizarre suggestion, however, Anakin went berserk again. Once again, Padmé was forced to speak for him. "No, no," she put in hastily, "Not that young. You just look…" She took in a breath, deciding it was best to put it bluntly. "Well, you look exactly as you did when I first met you on Naboo, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan peered at her, desperately trying to figure out if this was some dumb joke between her and Anakin. However, he knew that the Senator was not the type to tease him, and saw what could only have been genuine astonishment in her eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck. "But that was ten years ago," he said faintly.

"Exactly!" Padmé nodded, her elaborate braided hairstyle bobbing up and down in agreement.

Anakin inhaled a gasping breath, and managed to choke out, "You've—you've got the padawan braid again."

Startled, Kenobi's hand immediately reached up to feel his head. Sure enough, his hair was tied back in the traditional braid and ponytail of a Jedi padawan. Panicked, his fingers dropped to run along his chin— his beard was gone, too. Eyes wide, he turned back to Anakin and Padmé. Then his expression changed rapidly to that of bewildered irritation.

"I'm still your Master— don't be getting any ideas, Anakin! I don't feel any younger!" He paused, and added thoughtfully, "Except more vigorous, maybe…"

Anakin nodded solemnly, thoroughly enjoying himself. He raised one eyebrow with a wide smirk. "So does that mean we're the same age now?" He was taking this new development significantly better than his master was.

His master stared back at him, stunned for a moment, before wagging a finger at him, "What? No! Absolutely not! And besides, even if I were somehow ten years younger, I would still be six year older than you— I was twenty-five when we first met!"

Anakin just snorted again. This was the most fun he'd had since Obi-Wan fell into a pit of Slime-Barfing Juggerwatts on Sarafar the week before. He smirked again, cocking his head to one side as he continued to study his master.

"I just can't take you seriously anymore now that you're the same age as I am."

"We are not the same age!"