Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. I'm not that brilliant.
A/N: Hope you like it!
Chapter 3- Desperately Wanting Something
"Will you play another holo of Anakin, Artoo?" Luke asked, his voice revealing his excitement.
Artoo whistled an affirmative.
The sound of Artoo's projection hummed. It was another video of Anakin. He had short hair in this frame. All except for a single braid that fell down the left side of his tunic. He seemed much younger in this hologram than the previous, and he was grinning at something.
Before Anakin could say anything, the holo flickered and died.
Luke felt a distinctive feeling of dread in his stomach.
"Siths! Artoo, what's wrong?" Luke asked.
Artoo trilled, relaying his confusion.
"Artoo Detoo does not know what is wrong. He found no malfunction," Threepio told Luke.
The golden droid turned to Artoo and spoke. "Obviously, if there was no malfunction then you would be functioning."
Luke murmured to himself as he looked into Artoo's circuitry. He felt miserable quite honestly. He had made the mistake of getting his hopes up. He wanted to understand about his father so badly.
Luke couldn't remember ever feeling quite so disappointed.
"Luke, I'm sorry," Leia said, obviously not as saddened as him.
Luke understood of course. But it made him feel lonelier to know that there wasn't anyone to share in this with him. If only Leia could understand…
"There's no reason why this shouldn't work, though. Look, the main circuit board…" Luke went off on a descriptive explanation of why Artoo shouldn't be malfunctioning.
Leia couldn't understand half of it, but she felt his disappointment coming off of him in waves.
"Luke," Leia put her hand on his shoulder.
He stopped his riffling through the droid instantly. Leaving his hand resting in the droid, he dropped his head onto Artoo. Artoo trilled in alarm, but Luke didn't move.
"Ugh," Luke groaned. "I just wanted to believe…I wanted to know, Leia."
"I know you did. But look at it this way, maybe we can research for information about our mother. I swear that I've seen her before. It's better than nothing. Now that I know what she looks like…" Leia trailed off, just hoping that her words would make Luke feel fractionally better.
"It's just that…even if we could find information on her, it wouldn't be the same. The archives don't tell you about people's lives or really who they were. Plus, they kept their marriage a secret. So there isn't information about them," Luke said, disappointment tugging at him still.
"We already knew that Luke. We've searched 'Skywalker' in the archives. There were no females with the name," Leia reminded.
"I know, but there has to be a way to get Artoo to play the holos," Luke said, lifting his head and renewing his search in the wires and metal.
All of the sudden, the Force filled all of Luke's senses. It wasn't Leia, though he could still sense her close behind him. It was a completely empowering feeling, unlike anything Luke had ever felt.
He could still feel Artoo's wires in his hand, though the weight of them was becoming almost nonexistent.
A feeling akin to falling overtook him. He still sensed Leia's presence, though it was getting distant. He knew logically that he should be afraid, that he should ask Leia what was happening.
But the Force dampened any fear. There was no danger.
He wondered for a moment if he had been electrocuted before the world went black.
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Luke felt cold metal floor below him. That was the first thing he noticed. It was smooth, unlike his room on Coruscant, which was tiled. He laid there for a moment trying to feel whether he was hurt.
His analysis came to nothing. He was not injured, nor was he sure exactly where he was.
He used the Force to scan the world around him for anything, any sort of clue as to where he was. He did not sense anything more than circuitry. There was still no danger.
Luke opened his eyes and sat up. He felt slightly disoriented, like he was waking up on another planet with a slightly different gravity.
He instinctively reached for his lightsaber, just to make sure it was there. Its cold metal was slightly comforting.
Luke took in the room around him. The room was obviously where someone lived. There was a bed in the corner with a simple blanket over it. There was a small kitchen and a single couch.
He knew that this was only one person's room, a very conservative person's room. He was struck with the thought that the person who lived here was transitory, never here for long periods of time and never called this room home.
He stood and looked around for any clue as to where he was. He was obviously not brought here as prisoner. He was not chained nor was his weapon taken away. Unless the capturer was completely stupid, which Luke found unlikely.
Snapping him out of his musings was the feeling of approaching people, two of them, in fact. The feeling of them was slightly familiar, as if Luke had crossed their paths once or twice, which he had done with many people.
He heard the hum of their conversation as they drew closer. He found it unlikely that they were heading toward this room, so he stayed silent in hopes that they would pass him by.
Luke started to discern phrases of what they said. It sounded like one was amused while the other was reprimanding him for some action.
The voice of the amused person stopped abruptly.
"Master, there's someone in your room," he said, a tenseness overcame his voice.
"What are you talking about?" The other, older, voice asked.
"Don't you sense it?" He asked.
"No, I think—" The voice cut off. "Oh," he said.
Luke tensed. How could they sense him?! He fingered his lightsaber but didn't do anything.
The door burst open as the more boisterous of the companions jumped into the room. His lightsaber-- a piercing blue-- whizzed through the half-light of the room.
The man's eyes settled on Luke. Their blue intensity was magnified by the lightsaber he held threateningly and ready to attack.
"Who are you?" The man demanded.
Luke did not even realize it when his jaw dropped. He was utterly and wholly shocked.
"If you would take a moment to observe a situation before you brandish your weapon, young padawaan, you would realize that this man is a Jedi. Or did you miss his lightsaber?" The older man asked, rhetorically and just a little condescendingly.
The man straightened his figure out of an attack position. He clicked his saber off and dropped his arms. He still remained on edge, not trusting the foreign Jedi.
"Who are you?" He asked again, less demanding, but just as serious.
Luke had almost missed the young man's words entirely. He had been entirely focused on his face. He had blue eyes set into a sharply angled and youthful face. His sandy blonde hair was cut short except for a braid that currently fell behind his ear. He was tall and broad, but not completely grown.
He was Anakin Skywalker.