Broken Wings
Edit Notice 5/20/2005: It's been an insanely long time since I updated this, and, well I'm sure some of got peeved/gave up, but I'm going to finish it. Let it not be said that I don't listen to my reviewers (see Gene, it's not futile!).
I've just seen episode three, so I'm going to go back and alter bits of the story to fit the actual cannon information, so this is going to be tagged with an episode three spoiler warning.
Yes, this is an alternate universe story, but it only branches away from the official timeline when Luke is nine, and I'd like to stick with that. This means that as I replace chapters with edited versions (edited for cannon information, grammar, spelling, formatting and just because I feel like changing things), bits of the story will be considerably different, if you've read it before, you might want to go back and re-read those bits. Or don't if you don't feel like it because the basic plot will (probably) remain the same.
As I edit each chapter, I will put a notice on that chapter and the date I edited, so you'll know which chapters have been changed so far and which haven't.
Edited chapters will come out every few days and when I'm done with those, new chapters with appear about once a week.
Stuff changed in this chapter: Large additions to Vader's and Obi-Wan's sections. Other additions over all. Grammar/spelling/formatting/awkward wording corrected all over the place (did I really make that many errors?). Basic plot has remained the same.
Summery: AU. A rebel attack changes the course of history when it brings Vader to Tatooine ten years before ANH. Luke is taken from his guardians by his father. The scared boy turns into a disturbed young man, touched by the Darkside and the fate of the galaxy may rest on his shoulders.
Begin at the beginning, keep going until you reach the end, then stop.
I shall repeat this to myself as I attempt to write my first piece of Star Wars fan fiction.
Disclaimer: Don't own it, not making any money.
Time-line: This begins approximately ten years before the events of A New Hope, so Luke is nine years old, though most of the story will take place considerably closer to the movies.
Author's Notes:
Yeah, I know what you're all thinking, "Great, another one of these." I know there a lot of Vader raises Luke stories, but I will try to make this one different. In most of the stories Vader seems too fatherly to me. The Dark Lord of the Sith is not a nice guy. This will be a fairly dark story, so consider yourself warned.
Secondly, I haven't read many of the books, and I haven't liked most of the ones I have read, with the possible exception of Zahn's work. In my opinion, most of it's like bad fan-fiction you have to pay for. So don't expect to see too many book characters in here. I will try to keep the information within this story consistent with the cannon, but I'm not giving any promises. I'm not, after all, a Star Wars trivia master or anything.
There will be a number of original characters, in the interests of advancing the plot. But don't worry, there'll be no annoying Mary Sue/Marty Stu type characters making people randomly fall in love with them or taking the spotlight from the real stars.
Lastly, I have nothing against constructive criticism, suggestions and so on, think this is really on the best ways in which I can hope to improve, but a very annoying person has been flaming me lately. I've tried blocking her account, but she was still able to post a flame, so please ignore her.
Chapter One
From space Tatooine look like nothing more then a massive sandy colored ball of dust. This, reflected Darth Vader, was a perfectly accurate summery as far as he was concerned. He had certainly had never had any intention of returning to this cursed place. He certainly never had any intention going this far out into the rim, but unfortunately fate rarely seemed to have his intentions in mind.
The Star Destroyer Anguish had left Coruscant earlier that year, carrying a full compliment of TIE fighters. The Emperor's orders had been clear; to hunt down whatever rebels dared show themselves. Vader had, at the behest of his master, joined the mission. At the time it had seemed like something of a reprieve from the endless scheming of petty politicians that he was forced to endure daily in the imperial court, but the mission had quickly turned into a long and arduous chase as the fledgling rebellion had used every conceivable trick and all available speed to evade the Empire's grasp.
They had finally managed to engage, or rather had finally been engaged by the rebel forces, only a few days ago. The idiotic, over-confident, fool who had been placed in the position of captain had sadly underestimated the rebels' abilities and had not even conceived of the notion that they might, in their desperation, attempted a surprise attack. As a result, Anguish had lost a large portion of its TIE compliment, taken heavy damage, and now required new supplies in order to complete the repairs. Vader had strangled the fool himself.
Now, looking out the view screen at the hideous mass of Tatooine, the one place in the galaxy he least wanted to return to, Vader wished he had killed the man far, far more slowly. What bizarre twist of fate, had made this hellhole the closest inhabited system?
Yet for some strange reason, he felt compelled to stare at the place where his journey to the darkside began so many years ago. Some part of himself, long buried, felt... pain, at the memories of this place, memories of his mother's death. He ruthlessly squashed those emotions, driving them out of his mind. Such feelings, and such memories no longer had any place in his life. He had no family.
Flicker
Vader jerked out of his revere with a start. The officer to his right eyed the Sith Lord wearily, the death of his commanding officer clearly still on his mind. Someone on the planet below had just grasped the force.
Vader opened himself to the force as he tried to track down the presence. It was so… familiar. A Jedi, perhaps? One he had known, a lifetime ago during the clone wars, or perhaps in the Jedi temple? If so, Vader would gladly continue his purge.
Flicker
No, not a Jedi. Whoever it was, was untrained. The power spoke of an instinctive, elusive grasping at the force, a sign of great potential. The strange familiarity became more pronounced, as if he had somehow felt this individual's power before. Impossible.
As the odd power surged again, a vision came into Vader's mind, a single image of the desert flats, the vista broken only by a small homestead.
Darth Vader turned around abruptly. "Commander," he intoned, "Have my personal shuttle prepared immediately."
He almost didn't hear the officer's startled, "Yes, my lord."
Obi-Wan Kenobi, more commonly known as Old Ben, sat on a rock outcropping watching the twin suns of Tatooine, Tatoo1 and 2, rise over the seemingly endless expanse of the Dune Sea. He tied to calm his mind for meditation, but his thoughts would give him no rest. Nine years, he had spent on this planet. Sometimes he found himself enraptured by the desolate beauty of the desert. As the twin suns rose above the farthest sand dunes, the horizon was painted first brilliant purple, then red. Light reflected off glass particles in the sand and made the Dune Sea seem to shimmer.
Yes, sometimes he could appreciate the beauty of this place. Other times he thought he was going mad from the isolation, left alone with only the ghosts of the past for company. Padmé seemed to look down on him from the stars, Qui-Gon walked with a child Anakin by his side.
His occasional conversations with Qui-Gon gave him some comfort, and he was certain he had learned as much as he could of his old master's technique, yet the conversations were themselves rare and did not make up for the lack of true personal contact. For all of Qui-Gon's gentle guidance and conversation with a specter was not the same as conversation with a living being.
He rarely crossed the Dune Sea, to where settlements were more common for fear of being recognized by an imperial solder, or bounty hunter. He had come too far, done too much to protect Luke and his sister, to risk capture. Vader must have known that he was still alive and the hatred in his old apprentice's eyes, that fateful day they had battled above the lava flows, told him that the Sith would search for him till one of them finally lay dead.
He supposed it had been both a fool impulse and a true cruelty that stayed his hand that day. He should have simply killed Anakin, killed Vader, as he lay helpless on the scorching earth, calling curses on Obi-Wan. When the magma had ignited the Sith's robes and consumed him in fire, Obi-Wan was certain that it was the end.
So he had walked away, unable to bring himself to place the finishing blow against the man he had considered a brother and put the shattered husk of Anakin Skywalker out of his misery. He had walked away and completed what must have been one of the greatest errors of his life.
No, it was simply another error in a lifetime of errors.
He felt Luke's familiar, faint grasping of the force and smiled. The boy would be strong one day, perhaps stronger then his father.
Obi-Wan had visited the Lars to check on Luke, though Owen had made it clear that he wasn't welcome there. There always seemed to be a fear to Owen Lars. Fear of Vader, and fear the Obi-Wan would come to take Luke away for training. For all his gruff demeanor, Owen didn't want to lose is adopted son.
Beru was slightly more welcoming, and Luke honestly seemed to enjoy his company, smiling with that sort of warm understanding empathy that only the truly innocent could create.
He couldn't remember if Anakin had ever smiled like that, if Anakin had ever been truly innocent. There were so many things he seemed to be forgetting.
He made few other trips except when he needed supplies, and then he took care to be inconspicuous. Those who knew him though of him only as "Crazy Old Ben", a title, that he had welcomed, even encouraged. Who would ever bother Crazy Old Ben, or think him a threat?
Threat
The word seemed to be whispered in his mind in long forgotten voices. He was filled with feelings of foreboding. Something is coming! The force seemed to scream at him.
He opened his eyes and stared across the sands.
Luke!
He needed to get to the boy, to protect him. The feelings of dread increased. How long would it take him to cross the dunes and reach the Lars homestead?
Luke laughed as the wind blew his hair back from his face and pulled at his clothing. He held on to the swoop bike, as he flew across the desolate Tatooine landscape at breakneck speed. At just over nine years old, he was barely tall enough to reach the peddles, but more then capable of controlling the bike – even at these speeds. Not too far behind him he could hear the roar of another bike. His best-friend, Biggs, was gaining on him. Luke grinned and pushed the speed peddle down further.
There were few, rare times such as this, that he felt as if he were truly at peace with himself. He felt as if he could see everything around him, feel everything that was about to happen. It was great! Out here, nothing bothered him. It was the only time that no doubts or fears invaded his mind.
He tried not to think about what Aunt Beru would say about him racing a borrowed swoop, much less what Uncle Owen would do. He was, after all, very young to be racing, but Luke didn't care, it all came so easily. It felt so right.
He wondered of his father had ever done this. Raced across the flats, with nothing to distract him but the sound of the motor and feel of the wind.
Luke spotted the makeshift finish line coming up, and let out a whoop of triumph as he crossed it well ahead of his opponent.
He slowed his bike and brought it back around just as Biggs crossed on his swoop. Luke jumped from his seat and ran over to the small group of adolescents crowded around the pile of rocks they had set as the finish line. Biggs followed a moment later.
His friends sat clustered together. Some of them cheered him as he approached, flushed with victory. One of them, Coric, was handing a small number of credits over to a short boy named Tullen. Short was of course a relative term, as he was still taller then Luke.
There were only seven of them total, people were rare in Tatooine's harsh climate, but the few that found each other tended to band together against the endless monotony of the desert wastes, and the younglings that found one another tended to develop deep bonds.
Swoop racing had recently become a favored activity amongst Luke's friends in particular, after Biggs had bought a bike, and another member of the band had built one.
The oldest of their band was a quiet sixteen-year old nicknamed Brake. The towering, muscular Coric, was only a few months younger, though he looked much older then any of the others. Tullen, at ten, was the second youngest, but often displayed a surprising level of maturity and intelligence, and a decidedly devious streak. Luke had long ago learned not to make bets with Tullen. Coric, stubborn as he was, seemed to be taking much longer to absorb this lesson.
"What the heck were you thinking, Luke?" Biggs asked as he caught up with his younger friend, who was pulling off the over-sized helmet he had been wearing. "What made you think you could handle that thing at that speed? That was nuts!"
"I knew what I was doing," Luke protested, feeling slightly abashed.
Biggs glared at him. "You've ridden a Swoop, what? Two, three, times before this? You could have been seriously hurt!"
"Give it a rest, Biggs." piped up Jarru, the group's only girl. A plain kid of about thirteen, she sat on the sand with the last member of their little band, her best friend, Tinker. The two of them seemed to be messing with spare electrical parts, probably acquired from Tinker's mother, who owned a small store in Anchorhead. "The boy's good, he seems to know what he's doing."
Luke grinned gratefully at her as he tossed Tinker the helmet he had borrowed. Biggs sometimes seemed to treat him like a younger brother. Looking up at his best friend, he could tell that he hadn't heard the last of this.
"Just don't wreck my swoop," Jarru said with mock seriousness, as Tinker took the gadget from her and began to fool with it himself. "Must have took Tinker and me ten months to get that old piece of junk working," she said, picking up another random piece of electronics out of a sack Tinker was carrying and began fiddling with it.
"I could help you with it. I do repair work for my uncle all the time," Luke said, dropping down on one of the rocks.
"No, thanks, Luke, we can mange," Tinker piped up with a grin. A tall, skinny, boy, Tinker responded to every challenge with grace, and every insult with calm, good humor. He seemed to be Jarru's polar opposite in temperament, who responded to every challenge as personal insult, and to every insult with her fists. The differences in their personalities seemed to only be emphasized by the differences in their builds. While Tinker was tall, Jarru was short and surprisingly compact, a feature earned from a childhood of helping her father in his shop. Aunt Beru had once said that opposites attract, Luke thought a shared love of all things electrical, mechanical, or computerized, was a more likely cause for their strange friendship.
"I really can help, you know," Luke said, almost petulantly.
Tinker just smiled in apparent good nature. "We know, you're probably better than either of us, but that would take all the fun out of it."
Luke nodded, he realized that there were certain activities that the two were only willing to share with each other.
Biggs settled down next to Luke, holding his own helmet under his arm. Luke could tell his friend was still upset with him. An awkward silence stretched between them for a short time before being broken by a loud argument between Coric and Tullen about the nature of their bet while Brake looked on, his usually morose eyes touched with amusement. Biggs and Luke shared a grin. Some people never learned.
Luke glanced up for a second, the twin suns of Tatooine, shone brightly in the sky above, slowly baking everything with their ever-present heat. Luke watched the sky for a moment before realizing that Tatoo1 was well on its way to the noon marker.
Luke blinked. "Uh, oh."
Biggs turned to Luke as he jumped up off his perch. "Eh? Luke? What is it?"
"I gotta get back to the farm," he said franticly, while trying to wipe the dust from his ride off of his clothing. "Uncle Owen said that if I don't finish my morning chores before lunch today I'll be grounded for a week."
"No problem," Biggs said as he also stood. "I'll give you a ride home."
Luke smiled sheepishly, remembering again why his friend had been annoyed at him. "Thanks, Biggs. And I'm sorry about, well, you know."
"No problem, just don't do that again. Imagine how I'd feel if I had to tell your aunt and uncle that you got yourself blown up, and after I promised to look after you." Biggs said jokingly. "No seriously Luke," he said, his eyes darkening, "You shouldn't take such crazy risks."
"Yes Sir! Commander Darklighter, sir!" Luke said, adopting a ridiculously stiff, solder-like posture and saluting. The two of them broke down into fits of laughter.
Tinker looked up from his conversation with Jarru, "You two heading back?" he asked.
"Yeah, Luke needs to get back to the farm." Biggs said, regaining his composer.
"We'll come with you," Jarru called, beginning to scope the bits of junk that she and Tinker had been fooling with back into the bag. "Luke, you can show us that droid you repaired, and I still need to thank your aunt for that food she sent to me and my dad."
"Bye, guys!" Luke called out to his three other friends as he climbed onto the back of Biggs' speeder. The two combatants didn't even seem to notice.
As Jarru and Tinker climbed on their bike, Brake could be heard loudly telling his two arguing friends to either shut up and get in the speeder, or walk home. That seemed to end the fight just as quickly as it had begun.
Beru Lars looked out the window for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. Luke had left early to visit some friends. Even though she knew who he would be with she still found herself worrying about him. Sandpeople rarely attacked in board daylight, but it had been known to happen.
Nine is far too young to be running off like this! she thought to herself, remembering the wrapped corpse of Luke's grandmother being brought back to the farm. They'd lost too many friends to Sandpeople raids.
She sighed as she caught herself worrying about him too much. Luke was like the son she had never had.
Sometimes she liked to pretend that was why her husband was so hard on the boy, he was reminded of what they didn't, they couldn't, have. But she knew that wasn't true. She knew the real reason: It was fear. It was fear of the boy's father. It was fear of Luke becoming like his father, or being taken away, or harmed by anyone who might discover the truth, who might want revenge against the monster that was Darth Vader, that had been Anakin Skywalker, Luke's father.
It wasn't that Owen didn't love the boy, quite the opposite, he wanted to protect him. Only Luke didn't want to be protected, and the more he fought and defied his uncle, the harder Owen became.
She was pulled out of her reverie by the sound of engines and childish laughter. Luke had returned. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Turning to the window she looked out to see Luke and his friends dismounting from a pair of old looking swoop bikes. She pursed her lips. Nine was definitely too young to be riding on of those dangerous contraptions. She would have to have a word with Luke - out of Owen's hearing, of course.
The door burst open and Luke and is friends ran inside and down into the courtyard.
"Just wait till you see!" Luke was saying, "Most of his circuiting was shorted out, and some of it was acutely melted! But I think I fixed it up pretty good, he seems to run just fine..."
"Luke!" She called out to him. Luke and his friends stopped and turned around to look up at her. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" She asked, carefully descending.
"Sorry, Aunt Beru," he said as he began to introduce his three friends. Biggs she knew already. He was certainly over often enough. The girl she recognized as Adeen Dustchaser's odd daughter. The boy was one of the Krimms, Asphastos she thought he was called, though they seemed to have given him a strange nickname.
She smiled and greeted all of them politely. Luke fidgeted throughout the whole process. He was always so impatient.
"Hey, what's going on down there?" her husband's voice called from above. Owen's head appeared, he leaning over the railing above the courtyard.
"Luke's brought some of his friends over. Come down and meet them!" She called up to her husband. A moment later Owen Lars appeared at the top of the stairs. He had clearly been out working on the vaporators; his hair was wind blown and he had grimy stains on his face and clothing.
"Eh? What's this? The boy doesn't have time for friends, he has chores to do," Owen said with a sour expression. Clearly struggling with the machinery hadn't put him in a very good mood.
She sighed in exasperation, "Oh, don't be ridicules dear. They're our..."
"What's that sound?" Biggs asked, interrupting her.
"Excuse me?" she asked, turning to look at him.
"It's sort of a humming noise, kinda quiet. It's getting louder." he said, looking up towards the sky.
"I hear it too." Luke said looking upwards, searching for the source of the noise.
Beru felt rather then heard, her husband's intake of breath. "It's a ship," he nearly whispered. Beru felt herself go stiff. Luke apparently missed his aunt's apprehension because he looked up at her, his eyes filled with excitement.
"A starship? Can I go see? Please?"
"No!" Owen said harshly. "Beru, watch over them, I'll be back in a moment." With that, he turned to run up the stairs.
"Aunt Beru? Why can't I go see?" Luke pleaded, blue eyes shining.
"Hush, Luke." she said, not taking her eyes away from the door. Luke and his friends seemed to notice the fear in her voice, because the stayed quite while they waited.
To Beru it seemed like longest five minuets of her life. It's just some lost travelers, who else would come out hear? But even as she thought the words she knew they weren't true.
Owen came taring back down the stairs and answered her unasked question with a nod. She expelled the breath she was holding. "What do we do?"
He looked at her for a moment, eyes tight but full of determination, before turning to the children. "You four, this way," he said, leading them to the oldest storage room. "Stay in here until either Beru, or I come to get you. Do you understand?" he asked.
"Uncle Owen, what's going on? Why are you and Aunt Beru so scared?" Luke asked as hid friends settled down into the old room.
"Not now, Luke! For once just do what I say!" Owen snapped, before pushing Luke into the room and closing the door.
"Owen..." Beru began, not certain what she was going to say.
He just shook his head. "We knew this day might come when we took him in. Best we can do is face it on our feet."
She smiled at him, for his bravery, for his strength. Yes, he loved the boy, and he would do his best to protect him. So would she.
