Chapter Two:
Luke Skywalker huddled under his sheets, quaking in fear at both the raised voices outside, and the strange feelings he was getting. Luke didn't understand the strange sensations, but he did know blasterfire when he heard it. Uncle Owen had protected the homestead from Sand People on many occasions in Luke's six years.
And then he heard Aunt Beru screaming, and Luke jumped when raw emotion hit him broadside. Then it was gone, but he was left gasping, wondering what was wrong with him.
Was he getting sick? He would have to ask Aunt Beru in the morning.
Luke's head came up when he heard more blasterfire, and then Aunt Beru screamed once more… and then Luke smelled smoke.
And lots of it.
Luke panicked: fire wasn't something one had to worry about in the middle of a barren desert because there was nothing to burn. So Uncle Owen hadn't bothered to tell him much more than to not play with it, and steer clear of the flames if one should occur.
What do I do? Luke fretted.
The smoke got thicker, and Luke wondered if that was because the house didn't have any ventilation outside of the kitchen, courtyard, and the front door. When he saw yellow and orange glowing within the smoke, Luke screamed.
"Aunt Beru!"
No one answered him, so he tried again. "Uncle Owen!"
Still no response.
Luke coughed in the billowing smoke, hugging the wall in terror as tiny edges of flame started to lick their way into his room.
"HELP ME!" Luke cried in outright panic.
And then, as if from the depths of some dark cave, something told him to run. Without anymore hesitation, Luke sprang from his bed and raced from his tiny space. He shrieked to see flames all around him as he entered the hallway.
Luke spun in a circle, trying to see past the thick smoke, and that was when he noticed he was having a hard time breathing. He again felt a nudge from deep within to go toward the garage, and since the last urging had helped him, he obeyed a second time.
Luke ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, and when he got to the garage he was relieved to find it smoke and flame free.
Until red laser fire punctured the wall high above, hitting the storage bins there and setting them aflame. Luke screamed, covering his head as the items fell all around him. He peeked out from under his arms, and saw that the fire from the front of the house was moving quickly toward him, following the path he'd taken.
He coughed again as acrid smoke from the burning crates stung his throat and nostrils. The smoke was getting thicker by the minute, and the flames higher. He tried turning left or right, but each place he turned, he could only go a few steps before the flames cut him off. Luke backed away fearfully, not knowing what else to do.
When he could go no further, Luke crouched in his corner, sobbing with fright. The flames crept closer and closer, with Luke feeling more and more boxed in with each passing breath.
"HELP ME!" Luke wailed.
He lifted his face to scream toward the top of the garage, and that was when he spied the tiny windows. Windows just large enough for him to climb through!
Luke leapt to his feet, desperate, and scrambled up the last remaining shelf toward the window. He reached up with all his height, but was still a few inches too short.
Something popped loudly behind him, and hot ashes landed on his arms. Luke howled in agony, swiping at his forearms frantically, and then staring in horror to see his clothing starting to burn too.
The flames spread like spilled water on a table, burning his skin wherever it touched, and Luke scrambled to tear it from his chest. He leapt at the window again, feeling his fingers scrabble for purchase… there!
He found a handhold and then hoisted himself up, doing his best to ignore his pained body. He used his elbow to burst the glass, and then he was slipping outside. His belly and sides met the jagged edges of the glass as he maneuvered through, and again he cried out.
Luke collapsed halfway out the window, his strength gone, and his oxygen low from the smoke.
Then rough hands grabbed him and pulled him free, and Luke felt himself being dragged through the sands. He was so relieved that he didn't care in that moment who'd saved him.
Luke was dropped to the ground, and he instantly curled up, willing away his torment.
"You, boy!" someone said shortly.
Luke jerked his head up, and saw four white helmets glaring down on him. Gulping, Luke curled up tighter and cowered in fear. Uncle Owen had always warned him to stay away from stormtroopers because they served the Empire, which was run by an evil man.
"What is your name?" one of the men demanded, pointing a blaster in the boy's face.
"Luke!" he shrieked, cringing.
"Luke what?"
"Skywalker!" Luke wept. "Please, don't hurt me!"
Luke had been backing away as he spoke, and when his rear hit something warm and unmoving, he turned is head to see. He promptly yelled in disbelief.
"Uncle Owen!"
His uncle had a huge smoking hole in the center of his chest, and his face was frozen in anger. Luke lifted his head to find his aunt, and found her crumpled near the front door, with several craters in her back.
Something rose from the pit of his stomach, and feeling the urgent need, Luke rolled onto his hands and knees. He vomited violently, shaking from exhaustion as he tried to take in all that was before him.
It was still night... there was no one else around except the stormtroopers and... Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were dead… and the only home he'd ever known was now going up in flames.
"Throw the adults into the flames," one man ordered.
"No!" Luke lifted up to his knees. "Why did you kill them?"
"Because I wanted to, now shut up before I do the same to you, runt!" the man snapped.
Three of the four stormtroopers lifted first Owen's body and then Beru's and tossed them inside the burning homestead.
When they returned, the man in charge looked down at Luke. "Now, go to sleep, runt."
And with that, he hit Luke over the head, dropping him into darkness.
00000
When Luke came-to, he heard voices.
"... said his name was Skywalker..."
"... impossible! Only one man by that name... dead!"
"... should inform Lord Vader."
Luke sucked in a terrified breath. Darth Vader? He was the most feared man in the entire galaxy next to Emperor Palpatine! Why would they need to call him here?
"Make sure the boy is secure."
Luke opened his eyes and sat up with a squeak when he sensed— somehow— someone getting closer. The man who had been approaching jumped in surprise.
"Oh good, you're awake," a woman said from behind the stormtrooper Luke recognized from the farm. "What is your name, boy?"
Luke blinked at her when she came into his view, and recognized her as a woman in charge by her uniform. And then he recalled form his months in school that this was Governor Tour Aryon. She was the Imperial in charge of overseeing Tatooine.
"My name is Luke." He whispered on a hoarse throat.
Her eyebrow lifted. "You don't take the Larses name?"
Luke was confused. "Take their name?"
She sighed. "Their last name, Kid. You don't have their last name. Why?"
Luke swallowed nervously. "Um... they're my... were my aunt and uncle." Luke dropped his gaze sadly. "I don't know who my parents are except that my father's name..."
He stopped when that strange sense from before clearly told him not to give his father's name. Of course, the two before him didn't like that, and Aryon stepped closer.
"Yes? What's his name?"
Luke shook his head. The stormtrooper slapped Luke across the face. "Answer her!"
Luke whimpered and opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and the man grabbed his hair, jerking Luke closer to the governor.
"Could it be Anakin Skywalker perhaps?" Aryon suggested, and Luke gulped, which caused her to smile. "I guess that's our answer. Just wait until Lord Vader hears of this. He will enjoy killing you, or whatever it is he decides to do with you."
Luke glared at the trooper. "He and his men killed my family!"
Aryon lifted a brow. "That is a serious accusation, Son. They saved your life when your homestead caught fire."
Luke shook his head. "They shot them first!"
The trooper sighed. "Ma'am, I believe he was seeing things: too much smoke inhalation, you know?"
Aryon nodded, uncaring. "Just take him to a cell and leave him be while I contact Lord Vader."
"Yes Ma'am."
Luke was taken to a small, dusty room with one window and bars on the door and thrown inside. Luke landed in a heap, and he cried out when his torso hurt him. Luke looked down to see he was bare-chested and sporting several nasty cuts which he only now remembered getting. He was also still covered in soot and dirt, and his dried blood smelled funny.
"Goodbye runt." The stormtrooper slammed the door closed and Luke bit his lip, trying hard not to cry. He would be strong... like... like Uncle Owen... but he wasn't Uncle Owen! He buried his face in his hands and wept, hearing the man behind him grunt in disgust.
Luke wept for an unknown amount of time, wishing he was back at home with his guardians. He missed them already.
00000
His ship glided through space like a sharp knife sliced through butter. Its precise angles and military design spoke of the ruthlessness with which it's commander operated. Darth Vader, Sith Lord, stood on the bridge to his Star Destroyer the Devastator, eyes on the stars as they passed at an almost leisurely pace.
His mind was on the aftershocks of the latest attack on the Imperials by the growing Rebel group, and how he could stomp them out for good.
"Excuse me Lord Vader," said the Admiral, who came up behind him with a sharp salute.
"What is it?" Vader rumbled.
"There is a private transmission for you from Governor Tour Aryon on Tatooine, My Lord," he reported. "It's marked urgent."
Vader held back a sigh. Tatooine... he hated that Force-forsaken planet. And in fact, he would make a request to the Emperor to have the dust ball destroyed when the Death Star was completed...
"Very well, have it sent to my office."
"Yes, My Lord." The man saluted once more and walked away as Vader left the bridge. Once he was in his office he saw the transmission already waiting for his use.
With a sour attitude, Vader started the message and mentally warned the Governor to not waste his time.
The woman's image appeared and she bowed. "Lord Vader, thank you for your time. There has been a recent development here I think may interest you. During one of their patrols of the desert, a squad of my men came upon a burning homestead. While they sought to aid the family within, they rescued a six year old boy who goes by the name of Luke Skywalker."
Vader froze up, not hearing the rest of her message as the name registered. Luke Skywalker.
Old memories surfaced against his will: those of Anakin Skywalker, and his wife Padmé Naberrie Skywalker. His wife who had died at the end of the Clone Wars— and with her, their unborn child.
Or so the Jedi had led him to believe, he now realized. If it was true...
Vader was left to choose to believe the woman or not, and he was about to pass her off as a fool when the image shifted to show an unconscious boy. Vader again froze up, seeing his blond hair and features that were so reminiscent of the child Anakin had been that it was impossible to deny what was right before him.
Vader felt an odd stirring of... was that hope?... and he squashed it, not ready to let that take hold. Yet.
With an air of anticipation Palpatine would have been disgusted at, Vader contacted the bridge. "Set course for Tatooine immediately: top speed, Admiral."
"Yes, Lord Vader."
