Padme entered the Jedi Academy through the side door entrance after swiping her security cardkey to unlock it, striding purposefully towards her husband's office, her stiletto heels barely making sound on the carpeted floor. His ship had touched down not half an hour before. Usually he came home first and told her himself what had happened on a mission, but today, he had texted her asking her to meet him in his JA office. After nine years of following after leads that ultimately led nowhere, Padme found it hard to get her hopes up just because Anakin changed their normal routine. However, as she wandered through the halls of the Academy, the normally calm and serene atmosphere felt…tense. As if all of the Jedi on the premises were holding their collective breath in anticipation.
Something was indeed up. Something big. Really big.
"Aunt Padme!" She turned around at the sound of Ella's voice. The young teenage girl jogged to catch up with her, her blue eyes alight with excitement. "Did you hear?"
Padme offered her a small smile. She knew Ella almost as well as her own children, she and her younger sister, Rachel, were over so often. In fact, she was a little surprised Leia wasn't somewhere nearby. But, Leia had a Model UN meeting after school and wouldn't be returning home until dinner time. "I don't believe so, Sweetie." She answered. "What's going on?"
Ella glanced around at the other Jedi they passed, lowering her voice as if she held a huge secret. Judging by the activity around the Academy, Padme didn't think it was much of a secret, however. "Daddy and Uncle Ani brought back a prisoner!" Padme's steps faltered for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. She held her breath, afraid to even ask what sort of prisoner they'd brought back from Rio. The last prisoner they'd brought back was Grievous...nine years ago. Could it possibly be Ventress, or another of Palpatine's minions? She almost didn't dare to hope. Unperturbed by her aunt's momentary distraction, Ella continued to talk though: Unlike her more quiet father, Ella enjoyed talking. She was more her mother's daughter in that regard. "It's a boy! He's one of Palpatine's servants, and…"
"Luke?" Padme's voice was harsher, more desperate sounding than she'd meant it to be. She knew the moment she asked that it was a stupid assumption, though. If it had been Luke, regardless of what state he was in, Anakin would have brought him to their house, not to an interrogation cell at the Academy.
But Ella wasn't offended by Padme's tone. "No, some other kid. I dunno who he is." She shrugged. "Just thought you should know."
"Oh," Padme sighed, despair sinking in her gut again, but she still managed a smile for her. Ella took great pride in giving people useful information. "Alright. Thanks, Ella."
"No problem." She grinned. "I'm going to go practice my saber technique with Ezra. See you." She whirled away and skipped off down the hall, leaving Padme to turn and focus back on her destination. When she headed back for Anakin's office, she moved as fast as she could without outright running. Whoever they'd brought back, it had to be important. The Academy wouldn't be like this if it wasn't. Could it be the assassin Starkiller that Anakin and Obi-Wan had gone to find?
She reached her husband's large office in the far corner of the top floor, pausing for a moment to knock, but before her knuckles hit the door, it swung open, and she was suddenly wrapped up in her husband's strong arms, as he crushed her against him like she was his lifeline. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him as well, and though she was surprised by the intensity in which he held her, it warmed her heart just the same, and she buried her face against him, breathing in his scent. "Ani," She sighed, that one word filled with enough emotion to convey her relief at his return, her overwhelming love for him, and the confusion of his behavior. "What's wrong, Honey? What is it?"
He didn't say anything for a moment, just pressed soft kisses to the top of her head and rubbed his hands up and down her spine as he continued to hold her close, but she still felt his body tense up at her question. As quickly as he'd hugged her, he let her go, grabbing her hand instead and pulling her into his office. She tried to get a good look at his face, but he was turned away from her, and from the set of his shoulders, she could tell that he was bracing himself. Her suspicions grew exponentially even as the door shut behind her seemingly of its own accord, though she knew that was not the case. She heard the lock click and knew he'd used the Force to give them some privacy. "Tell me what's wrong, Ani." She said again, earnestly as he pulled her further into the office toward his desk, their fingers tightly intertwined.
Office was really more of a loose term for the rather large room. It was more of a Jedi-meditation room, decorated in shades of blue and gray and cream, with thick textured carpet in a matching colored pattern, plenty of cushioned chairs, a sofa, and comfortable throw rugs with floor to ceiling self-darkening windows that overlooked the woods and their home next door, that just happened to have a large oak desk at the far end of the room with an Apple computer on it, as well as a 62-inch, flat screen, wall-mounted, state-of-the-art TV on the opposite wall from the desk, which allowed constant media and news feeds directly from the Internet. On several of the walls hung family pictures, as well as a couple of paintings that added to the soothing ambience of the room. Artoo was also in the room, and when he saw her, he greeted her in what was obviously a happy tone. She nodded to the droid in reply, absently patting his dome, too preoccupied with her husband's behavior to draw her full attention away from him.
Anakin stopped at the desk and let go of her hand to lean against it, his hands splayed out across the surface. He stared out the window, and for a while he was silent. She opened her mouth to insist that he tell her what was going on, but he finally spoke, and his words chilled her to the bone.
"I saw Luke."
Every muscle in her body tensed immediately. She stopped breathing. The outside world seemed to fade away, leaving just her and her husband in the room, the entire universe revolving around that moment. Nine years. In nine years, there had been so many leads. Many of the leads died before anything could really come of them. Some of the leads had seemed to go places, but had ultimately ended up as dead ends with hardly any new information. But this…Slowly, she forced herself to speak, her voice tight and desperate at the same time.
"Where?!"
He still didn't turn to her. He sighed heavily, and she knew without asking that, though he had seen Luke, their son was still not yet home. "In Rio."
"Did Starkiller…is the boy you and Obi-Wan brought back Starkiller?" Every word out of her mouth sounded measured and heavy, as if she had a limited amount of time to ask questions and therefore had to pick the most important ones. There was a thick silence, and Anakin's shoulders seemed to slump, as he dropped his head to his chest.
"Luke is Starkiller, Padme."
Slowly, Padme found herself collapsing down on one of the cushioned seats, her legs unable to sustain her weight any longer, her mouth agape and staring wide-eyed at Anakin's back. She couldn't believe it. The breath rushed from her lungs in a heavy whoosh, and she felt as if someone had just punched her in the stomach, the abdominal muscles clenching and knotting together. She wasn't as familiar with Starkiller's actions over the years, but she did know that he was the one who had killed Neeja in Nepal…or so they had been told. She knew that he'd recently been killing a lot of different high-ranking officials all across the world, something that had been disturbing to Anakin and Leia, as well as Obi-Wan. But, she couldn't remotely picture their Luke doing any of that! Even if he had been under Palpatine's control, which was more than likely she knew, she just couldn't see him being the same person as this assassin, Starkiller.
Anakin continued as if her world wasn't in the process of being turned upside down. "When we arrived, we found that he'd already killed his target, Lt. Strife's brother. We tracked him and two other Dark presences to the rooftops, where we found Luke engaging in lightsaber combat with two other assassins. He's very skilled with a lightsaber, and he was more than holding his own against the other two people. He was hiding his presence in the Force up until then, though, so I didn't know it was him at first, but when we arrived on the roof, he sort of…freaked out and let go of his control before taking off at a run. Perhaps he was desperate to get away from me….I don't know. But, when I sensed his presence, realized it was Luke, I ran after him while Obi-Wan engaged the other two." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing.
"I ran after him, I called for him, over and over, told him who I was, and still he kept running, as if I were the bad guy. Then, he stopped suddenly, and the next thing I knew he'd activated his lightsaber—his very red lightsaber-and started attacking me." He turned to face her again, his expression grave and his eyes troubled. "Padme, Luke was actually trying to kill me. He was striking with killing blows. If I'd slipped up even a little, made even a single mistake…he would have killed me. And, what's worse…he'd have done so without any remorse." Anakin closed his eyes briefly and hung his head and sighed.
It was still so hard to believe.
Padme's voice was gone. She listened to her husband's words, but none of them fully reached her consciousness. It was like he was reciting a news story—tragic, yes, but it in no way applied to her or their family. Except that he wasn't: this was their son. Somehow, their son had lost his way to the point where he was almost an entirely different person from the one they had raised. But despite that, she didn't feel revulsion or disgust. This was their son, and clearly he needed help. And, a lot of it. She remembered the last time she'd tucked him into bed, how he'd expressed his distress over having a new baby brother, but happily accepting her words of comfort when she gave them. She remembered how much he loved his sister, his grandparents, and his dad. She remembered how he always liked to help her around the house, even if he was too little to successfully do much, and how he loved to toddle around and follow his dad everywhere, tinkering for hours together with Anakin on various mechanical projects in the garage or Anakin's workroom, his father's little 'Buddy'. No. Luke was not a murderer. He was not this Starkiller, this person that Palpatine had made him into.
He was their son, and she wanted him home to remind him of that.
"He escaped. I tried to go after him, but he boarded the Millennium Falcon, and when I tried to follow him, whoever was manning the guns shot at me. I managed to steal a nearby speeder, but that ship…" Anakin whistled under his breath. "Even in this world, that ship is fast," Anakin muttered, almost as if to himself, "No wonder they said the damn thing made the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs, it's so kriffing fast and maneuverable," He sighed and softly swore in Huttese. "They managed to outrun me."
Padme frowned. "You've encountered this ship before?"
Anakin snorted and turned and leaned back against his desk. "Oh, I've encountered it alright. Remember that smuggler I told you about from our old galaxy? Leia's lover, the one with the Wookie? Han Solo?" Padme nodded. "It's his ship. And, I'm pretty damn sure he's still flying it here, too." His voice was dry and not enthused at all. Padme got the distinct feeling that Anakin wasn't necessarily looking forward to that particular reunion.
But, Padme, ever the planner, began to force herself to think out scenarios. It did her no good wishing that Luke had come home with Anakin. For the first time in nine years, they were closer than they'd been yet. For once, it didn't seem so hopeless any longer. "What model is this ship, Ani?"
"A YT-1300 Freighter." Anakin answered immediately, crossing his arms over his chest and watching his wife closely. She had an idea. He could tell. So, he waited for her to say more.
Blast it! She was hoping it was a ship that her husband's company had created. As the local District Attorney though, she did have ways to get access to vehicle registrations…even ones from different countries, if necessary. "Well, we have a name, and we have a model of a ship, thankfully one that isn't too widely used."
Anakin immediately picked up on what she was suggesting. "Think you can get access to the records?" He recognized that determined glint of steel in her eyes.
She bit her lip uncertainly. "Maybe…Probably." She was actually pretty sure she could, but she didn't want to get either of their hopes up. "Leia isn't home yet, but I can send Hayden…"
"Not to the Academy." Anakin interrupted, shaking his head, once more seeing where she was going. Normally, if Leia wasn't home to take care of Hayden, their youngest son came to hang out with his dad at the Academy while Padme was in the DA's office. "I have some business to take care of."
"The prisoner you brought back." She said, nodding her head, remembering her conversation with Ella. "And, he's…one of the assassins?"
Anakin nodded his head, a dark expression crossing his face. "The other one got away, but Obi-Wan managed to capture this one." He sighed. "He's Luke's age. He knows information about Luke. I'm sure of it, but he's also just a kid. I don't necessarily enjoy interrogating kids, Angel."
Padme managed to stand, her knees no longer feeling weak, going over to her husband, leaning into his chest and putting a gentle hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb across his cheekbone gently. "I understand." She said softly, as he met her eyes. Even now, all these years later, those incredible blue eyes never failed to take her breath away. "But, he might be a link to bringing Luke home. He might have the answers we need to find our son. You do what you need to do. Ok?"
Anakin sighed, leaning his forehead against hers, rubbing their noses together in a gentle caress, as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her closer to him. "I know, Angel. But, that's why I think Hayden should go to visit Rachel and Satine today. If Snips was here, he could hang out with her in the Academy, but she's out on a mission with Peter, and Lux has taken their kids back to California for a few days to visit the Tano's, remember?"
"Ok. I agree." She nodded, then grasped Anakin's face with both her hands, looking him directly in the eye with determination. "We'll bring him back, Ani…and I don't just mean physically. I believe that with all my heart."
Anakin stared at his beloved wife for a while, memorizing her face, as he rubbed his hands in gentle circles on her low back. "He saved me, Angel. Back in our old galaxy, when he literally had every reason not to. He believed there was still good in me. Now, it's our turn to save him."
"We will." Padme promised. "You came back to me. So will he. He's a good boy, Anakin. Just like his father." She rubbed her hands up and down his chest and smiled at her husband.
A dark look briefly passed over her husband's face, but before she could ask what it was for, he smiled softly and suddenly leaned in and kissed her slowly, tenderly before pulling away, their lips making a gentle pop as they parted. "I love you, Angel, but right now, I have to go interrogate this boy. I'll let you know what I find out. Keep your comm on. Ok? " As he stood up and pushed away from his desk, he gently pinched and swatted his wife on her bottom as she headed for the door of his office.
Padme nodded and smiled at his affectionate touch, but her mind was already beginning to focus on the task at hand: Find the Millennium Falcon. Turning back as she opened the door, she said, "I'll comm you as soon as I have a lead on the Falcon. I love you. Talk to you soon."
"He claims that he doesn't know Luke." Obi-Wan said as Anakin joined him in the hall outside of the lowest level basement interrogation room where Obi-Wan had been trying to get answers about Palpatine's whereabouts from the captured boy. So far, he had been tight lipped, and Obi-Wan hadn't gotten much information out of him. "He seemed genuinely confused."
Luke had seemed confused when Anakin had asked him why, as if he really thought Anakin would understand why he was trying to kill him...as if it would be obvious to him. It still baffled him, but he would get to the bottom of that answer as soon as he could. "I'm going to talk to him." Obi-Wan hesitated. When Anakin had finally returned to Obi-Wan hours after he had long-lost the Falcon, he hadn't exactly been in the best frame of mind. It wasn't like he was falling to the Dark Side, but having been that close to his son for the first time in 9 years and then having lost him again...devastating was not a strong enough word for how Anakin was feeling at that particular moment. "Come on. I'm not going to hurt him. OK?" Anakin assured him wearily, rolling his eyes.
"That's not what I was worried about, Anakin." Obi-Wan said grimly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm worried about you. You look like you've gotten very little rest of late. When was the last time you slept more than a couple of hours?"
"It doesn't matter, Obi-Wan." Anakin insisted, rubbing his hands down his face, already tired of the argument. "I'm not going to be able to sleep until I have at least something solid to go on. So, I'm interrogating this kid, while Padme searches for the registration on the Falcon."
Obi-Wan studied him for a moment, but finally nodded and stepped aside. "Let me know if you need any help."
"I will." Anakin promised before keying in the security code and opening the door. There, sitting behind a metal desk with his hands and feet cuffed to a metal chair, was the assassin. He'd had his hood and mask removed, revealing a boy who couldn't have been more than seventeen at most, with dark brown hair and freckles that made him appear younger than he probably was. He exuded the Force, every inch of it steeped in the Dark Side. Anakin fought back a wince but said nothing as the door swung shut behind him and he took a seat across from the boy, meeting his glare without a flinch. Honestly, without the hood and the mask, the kid was anything else but intimidating. "So. What's your name and where are you from?" Anakin figured he'd start with the easy questions first.
The boy glared back at him but answered, "Alexei. I am Russian."
Anakin nodded. It was a start. At least the boy was communicating. "Ok, Alexei. I'll be direct." Anakin began, not feeling like starting off with any other simple questions. He didn't care. All he cared about at the moment was his son. Taking down Palpatine was secondary at this point. "What do you know about Starkiller?"
That caused a flicker of surprise in the boy's muddy-brown eyes, and he frowned. "I thought you wanted to know about my master, and that kid, Luke Skywalker."
Ah. Apparently, Obi-Wan hadn't asked the kid about Starkiller, he'd only asked specifically about Luke. Which meant only one thing. This kid clearly didn't know that Luke Skywalker and Starkiller were one and the same person, so Anakin wasn't about to enlighten him. "Right now, I want to know about Starkiller. I mean…Clearly, you had it out for him. Unless, of course, you just randomly attack other Force-Sensitives when you feel like it?"
The boy glared, but it wasn't as intense as before. "He's a traitor."
Anakin lifted an eyebrow. Apparently, the kid was not as tight-lipped when it came to Starkiller. Perhaps it was because he considered Luke a traitor. Why bother protecting a traitor? "Oh?" Anakin said stiffly.
"Yeah," The kid had a Russian accent, but Anakin could still understand his accented English. He'd never really gotten the whole Earth-accents thing down. "He deserted our order."
"And, what order would that be?" Anakin prodded, but the boy fell silent. Apparently, asking about whatever 'Order' the kid belonged to was too personal. Like a good general, he changed tactics by changing the subject, not wishing to jeopardize the moment. He also managed a nonchalant pose by casually clasping his hands together on the table.
"Do you know what he's after, Alexei?"
The boy hesitated, considering, as if he weren't sure if his next answer would reveal too much information. "He wants to kill my Master."
Well, Anakin had already figured that much out back when Starkiller was just Starkiller, and not Luke. "Why would he want to do that?" Yes. That was a much better question.
The kid shrugged. "I dunno for sure. I only met him once. He had a reputation, though. He was one of the very best." He frowned. "Then, last year, he goes off and destroys one of our bases. He never reports in. He never contacts us again, and the next thing we know, he's been branded a traitor. All we know for sure is that he wants to kill our Master."
Anakin frowned. Interesting. What could possibly have happened to turn Luke away from Palpatine? It apparently had nothing to do with his family, he thought bitterly, because the only contact he'd had with any of them had been accidental, and he'd tried to kill his own father because of it. So, nope. Not family. So, what was it? He doubted the kid knew, but… "Do you have any idea where he might be hiding, Alexei?"
The kid grinned wickedly, an angry glint in his eyes. How could one so young and seemingly innocent-looking be so malicious? "Nah. But, you're Anakin Skywalker, right? You're going to kill him, right?"
Anakin deliberately kept his face neutral. Apparently, the kid believed that he wanted to know the information so that he could kill Starkiller. Hmm. He needed to tread very carefully to keep him believing that, though the idea of doing so was absolutely repulsive to him. He couldn't even pretend to want to kill his son, even if it meant getting information out of this kid.
"How do you know what I'll do?" He opted for instead.
The kid shrugged. "We've heard stories about you and Kenobi. You're killers. You don't like us anymore than we like you. If you're gunna kill me, I might as well do what I can to make sure you kill the traitor, too. Besides," Alexei smirked, "He killed that friend of yours, no? At the lightsaber crystal mountain?"
Anakin's eyes narrowed. No, he hadn't forgotten about that. Once his head had cleared, the implications of who Luke was and what he had done over the years were at the forefront of his mind. "I'm aware of that." His voice was clipped, dangerous, lethal…a good cover for what the boy thought of him. He wouldn't kill this boy either, of course. They'd try to figure out who the boy was, find his family, rehabilitate him, and try to bring him back to the Light Side before they released him. He wasn't going to let the kid know that though. Not yet.
"So, if you don't know where he's hiding, then can you tell me the location of the base he destroyed?"
Now the boy was really hesitating. "I dunno," He said slowly, narrowing his gaze at Anakin, obviously not trusting him.
"It's destroyed, isn't it?" Anakin urged, using the Force behind his words, but just ever so subtly, not so much that the boy would detect that he was trying to persuade him. "Since it's destroyed, what does it matter?"
The kid considered it for a moment, before he finally sighed, giving in. "As long as it gets the traitor killed…" he mumbled under his breath. "It's a base in Namibia. Near the sand dunes. You know, north of the ones the tourists go see. You can't miss it, though, I highly doubt there's anything left behind. When I said he destroyed it, I mean it was destroyed."
It didn't matter. He didn't always need anything physical. He had the Force, and going back to where Luke's break from Palpatine began could be enlightening, to say the least. He stood.
"Thanks." He said shortly, turning around to leave.
"Wait," The kid said, bewildered, "Is that it?"
Anakin glanced back at him. There was real fear in his eyes now, as if he were expecting him to kill him now that he'd given Anakin the information he'd needed. Anakin grinned humorlessly.
"That's it. From me." Normally, he would have continued interrogating a prisoner. He would have sat there until he had everything the kid knew. But, Anakin only cared about Luke, and the kid only knew enough to point him in a general direction. If he still hadn't talked by the time Anakin brought Luke back, then maybe he'd try again.
He left the room without another word.
The first thing he did when he got back to his JA office was have Artoo send a mass email to all his employees at NASA that he was still out of the office due to a family emergency, and he could be contacted by email. The emails, and there were tons of them, helped him focus on something while his ship was on autopilot when he traveled on missions. If he'd had a choice, he would have left right then and there for Namibia, but he still hadn't heard anything from Padme, and he would wait until she had info for him. Perhaps her info would be even better—like a current address for Han Solo, for example.
Somehow, he doubted Luke was that careless.
Artoo beeped mournfully as Anakin sat on one of his meditation chairs, and he sighed, reaching up to pat the droid's dome. "We're so close, Artoo." He frowned. "Pull up everything we have on Starkiller. I need to see if there's anything I might have missed." He'd reviewed these files a million times since his encounter with Luke in Rio, but there hadn't been anything special except news clippings and the report on Neeja's death. Now, as Artoo projected them for Anakin to see on the 62-inch TV screen, once more he found himself reading the same thing with nothing new popping out at him, except….
Neeja's death.
The first time he'd reviewed it after his encounter with Luke, his mind kept going back to that. It was so…random. Over the years, the area around the Jedi Crystal Temple had grown more dangerous. Nepal was experiencing a revolution, and though the temple was far out of the way from most of the fighting, it still had skirmishes happen around the area occasionally. The crystals for red lightsabers had begun to go missing, but since it wasn't the first time that crystals had been taken, Anakin hadn't been informed until one day, Neeja ran into what the Jedi had thought, at the time, was a group of Force-sensitive rebels. Neeja had died that day, but…why? Anakin had always wondered about that. Neeja was a Jedi Master. He shouldn't have been so easily killed, and yet when Anakin came to Nepal with Obi-Wan, Galen, Leia, and Ella to investigate, there hadn't been any signs of resistance from Neeja.
Now that Anakin knew Starkiller to be his son, he was more confused than ever. He didn't blame the boy as he had when he hadn't known who he was—whatever was going on here, Luke had certainly been manipulated to the Dark Side. Having been manipulated himself even as an adult Jedi Knight by Palpatine, he couldn't blame Luke at all. What was so maddening was that Anakin knew that he had likely been manipulated with what had happened to Padme, and having literally gone through something similar himself, no, Anakin couldn't blame Luke. Not at all. That didn't mean that he wasn't anxious to know.
"I think," he finally said, "I think I'm going to meditate, Artoo. Perhaps the Force will give clarification on this."
Artoo whistled hopefully and cut the feed before turning and rolling away to the corner and shutting himself down in sleep mode, leaving Anakin alone on the chair. Settling himself cross-legged in a meditative pose, Anakin relaxed and closed his eyes, letting the Force flow through him, letting it calm and focus his mind until the world around him disappeared, and he was sinking into the Force…sinking…sinking…
He opened his eyes. He stood at the edge of a forest, looking towards a distant mountain. He frowned: He knew that mountain. That was the mountain the Jedi Temple was on! It wasn't the side he usually entered in on—he usually entered on the west side, where it was mostly clear and dry. On this side though was almost endless forest, filled with wild animals, and occasionally, rebels. Before he could wonder what was happening, he began to walk forward with purpose, striding towards the trees with very little grace, making quite the racket as he moved through the underbrush. He didn't know how long he walked, but eventually, he broke through the trees, opening up to a clearing and…Found himself face-to-face with a spear.
He froze, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, his eyes moved to settle on…
"What the hell, Fireheart?!"
Luke.
Luke stood there. Maybe a year older than the last vision Anakin had had. Fourteen or so. He still looked pale, though not as pale as before. His hair was unruly and in bad need of a haircut, but other than that, he seemed like a healthy fourteen-year-old—that is, if you ignored the dark, haunted look in those Skywalker blue eyes. "I could have killed you!"
Anakin felt himself crossing his arms. "Well, you didn't. Point the spear somewhere else, Starkiller. You'll poke someone's eye out." Luke seemed to remember that he was still pointing the spear into her face and lowered it, moving into a defensive stance, as if he didn't quite trust this…Fireheart. Given that Starkiller was not Luke's real name, Anakin had no doubt Fireheart was not this girl's real name either. Whoever she was. "How did you make that anyway? That was never covered in survival class…"
Luke gave her a sarcastic look and rolled his eyes. "While some people were busy day dreaming, others…like yours truly... were actually listening and doing the homework. It was too covered. Chapter 4. Look it up." He grinned smugly, turning away. "Well. See ya. Don't die out here."
For a moment, he watched him go, anxiously wanting to go after him, wishing that he had control of the situation…then, "Wait!" The girl, whose memories this belonged to, cried out, and he was running towards his back. Luke stopped, giving her an unconcerned glance over his shoulder. "Maybe…maybe we should team up."
Luke smirked. "What? Are you scared?" The girl hesitated, which Luke immediately pounced on. "Aw, come on! It's not like there's tigers or leopards out here. Or rebels."
"Except that there are!" Fireheart hissed, but Luke laughed, as if these things didn't frighten him the least little bit. It should have, Anakin thought.
"Well, the whole point of this test is to survive. Whoever makes it to the Jedi Temple, sneaks in, steals a red crystal, and survives all the way back to the drop off point gets to advance." He said it as if he had memorized the instructions. "I have every intention of becoming Master Palpatine's apprentice. If I'm going to win that competition, I'm not going to let a stupid test like this scare me. If you were a true candidate for the apprenticeship, this wouldn't be an issue."
There was a mocking tone in his voice, but at this point, Anakin was fixating- not on the bitter, angry tone Luke had, but more on his actual words: All of this…to participate in some sort of competition to become Palpatine's apprentice? Actually, Anakin could totally see Palpatine doing that. He'd done it before. He'd even forced Vader to participate at one point. Still, to think that his own son had been forced into it, too…
"I am so a true candidate!" Fireheart snapped, anger in her voice. "Just you wait and see! I'll…I'll even complete this assignment before you!"
Luke snorted, turning away again. "Whatever. See you later…Or not."
The scene suddenly melted away, and it was growing dark. A roar filled Anakin's ears, and he whirled as a mass of orange and black striped fur came hurtling towards him, the coat of the creature shining in the moonlight.
A tiger.
Anakin instinctively tried to move into a defensive position, to use the Force to push the man-eating predator away, but once more, he found himself trapped within this girl's memories without any way to react for himself. He watched, helplessly, as the girl threw herself to the side at the last possible second, narrowly missing its claws, screaming. He could sense her sheer terror in the vision, sense the overwhelming need to protect herself, and as the tiger made up for its miss by whirling to give chase, she whirled and pushed out with the Force, knocking the animal back. That only seemed to make it more enraged, and it roared again, recovering, and leapt towards her…
And was suddenly thrown to the side.
Wildly, his vision turned from where the tiger had landed, quickly righting itself, to where the Force-push had come from. Even in the darkness, Anakin recognized his son. He stood there, defensively, the spear in one hand, but not raised. Luke raised his free hand, eyes glittering in the dark, facing down the tiger that was now bearing down on him. Luke! Anakin wanted to shout, fear for his son's safety shooting into his throat. Obviously, his son lived, but to watch a tiger running to attack one's child…
The tiger leaped, and Luke attempted to hit it with the point of his spear…and failed. Instead, the spear only managed to graze the big cat, causing it to roar in pain as it leaped onto Luke and flattened him to the ground….
"NO!" Fireheart screamed, and her hands reached out, throwing the tiger off of Luke. She moved forward, trying to assist, but…Luke stood. In the moonlight, Anakin could see four gashes across his chest, blood seeping from them and soaking into his shirt. He winced as he stood, turning back towards the tiger that was now facing both of the Force-sensitives, as if deciding which one to take down.
"No." Luke said, his voice calm. "Stop." He motioned towards Fireheart to settle down.
"Are you crazy?!" Fireheart cried on an anguished whisper, but she stopped advancing, as Luke dropped the spear with a clatter to the ground. Luke didn't answer. Instead, he reached out his hand towards the tiger, just like Anakin had done to that reek on Geonosis. Even in the vision, Anakin could feel…Light emanating from his son. Not darkness. Luke wasn't using the Dark Side. He was using the Light, reaching out towards the enraged animal, touching its mind, making a connection…
The tiger instantly calmed, its nose twitching, and as quickly as it had come, it turned and stalked calmly away into the darkness of the forest, leaving the two teens silently looking after it for a long, tense moment. "What the hell," Fireheart whispered, as she turned to stare at Luke wide-eyed, "was that?"
Yes! Positive proof that Luke wasn't fully succumbed to the Dark Side! It was a small consolation, but it filled Anakin with tremendous hope. He hadn't ever lost hope in his son—he never could. But, without hardly any Jedi training, Luke had not only tapped into the Light Side of the Force, but he'd successfully used it. Perhaps, it was his subconscious calling on the Jedi powers of his previous life. Perhaps that was the way to get Luke to listen…
The scene changed again.
"DAMMIT!" Luke cringed away, shirtless, as the girl, whose memories this was, applied some sort of plant nectar to the now scabbed scratches on his chest. Despite this being a memory, and having no control over anything, Anakin still studied the scene as extensively as he could. There was a fire off to the right, and Luke had his back against a tree. "I said I'm fine! Sheesh! It's just a scratch!"
"From a tiger," Fireheart pointed out dryly with a lifted eyebrow, seemingly unoffended by his son's harsh tone, "That's not exactly a housecat scratch. And stop moving around so much, will ya? You'll open it back up."
"It's not deep!" Luke insisted; though, he had reluctantly complied as she finished up covering it with the plant material.
"Deep enough." Fireheart countered. "There. It'll probably scar, but if you're careful, it shouldn't open back up again." She met Luke's eyes in what Anakin imagined was a hard stare. "IF you're careful."
Luke scowled, reminding Anakin so much of himself at that age, but he didn't argue anymore as he carefully slipped his still ripped shirt back over his head, covering the wound up. "You almost got yourself killed, y'know." He said, not looking at her. There was something in his voice…something that Anakin immediately identified. Worry? Luke was actually worried about this girl?
"Says the guy with four gashes in his chest." Fireheart reminded him, and paused. "But, yes. And, thank you. I might've be dead if it wasn't for you."
"Might be?" Luke raised his eyebrows, looking at her again. The fire danced in his eyes. "You would be dead."
"I'm not that helpless." There was offense in her tone. "I'm certainly in better health than you are now."
Anakin thought for a moment that Luke would argue back, but he didn't. Instead, he sighed wearily. "Maybe." That earned him a snort from Fireheart, and he shot her a look. "Fine. Okay. I'll be fine, though. Really."
"We still have to make it to the mountain, climb up it, steal lightsaber crystals, and then get all the way back to the starting point. You won't be fine by yourself."
Luke rolled his eyes. "This again? Look, I told you…"
"That was before you got yourself injured." Fireheart interrupted. "If you want to make it, you'll need help. Asking for help is, after all, part of survival."
Anakin knew that was not a teaching of the Sith. The Sith didn't ask for help. From anyone. They took it, yes, and disposed of it once it was no longer needed. But, to ask for it? Never. Luke seemed to think that, too. "That wasn't anywhere in our training book." Ah, so Palpatine had training manuals printed for his recruits. Good to know. Of course, Anakin probably knew everything in it already. Still…
Fireheart hesitated. "Well. It's just logic, okay?"
Luke looked back at her, his eyes narrowing, as if trying to read into the hesitation that Anakin had, of course, mentally noted as well. "Why do you want to help? We're rivals."
Anakin felt Fireheart shrug. "Because you're different."
Luke raised an eyebrow. "I'm different? How so?"
Another shrug. "I don't know, but everyone knows it. That's why they avoid you. You're unpredictable. An anomaly."
"Oh. And, here I thought it was all because of my charming personality." Luke sarcastically said, again rolling his eyes, though his comment wasn't quite as harsh as before. "I guess…I guess we could team up, yeah. But, only this one time!" he hurried to amend when Fireheart opened her mouth. "I still plan on beating you in the competition. I will become a Sith Lord."
Anakin shuddered. He said it with such conviction, it was frightening. Anakin tried to say something, wanted to say something, but he couldn't. "Right," Fireheart grinned, "We'll see."
The scene changed again.
This time Anakin recognized the dark surroundings as the inside of the Jedi Temple. Fireheart was heading towards the entrance, a lightsaber crystal already in her hands. Anakin knew the crystal: A red saber crystal. A Sith crystal. There weren't many of them in the Jedi Temple caverns, but there were some. Anakin and Obi-Wan had talked with Neeja about going through and finding and destroying all the red crystals in the Temple, as they suspected there was a bigger supply of them elsewhere on Earth, in another cave somewhere the Jedi didn't yet know of, but they had ultimately decided against it. Unless or until they found another crystal source, this Temple was it…and they needed to preserve every crystal in it, red or not. If there wasn't another source of red crystals, what Luke and Fireheart were doing would be a much bigger issue for the Jedi than it was. Of course, this whole memory begged the question: Why would Palpatine even send his trainees to the Jedi Temple in the first place, if the Sith had an alternate crystal source?
Anakin decided he'd need to discuss that with Obi-Wan and Snips at a later time.
"Hurry up!" she hissed, the sound echoing in the cave. She turned, and Anakin saw Luke making his way towards her; though, he paused as he examined another crystal. "You already got one! Don't get greedy!"
"I'm not, I just…" Luke hesitated, and Anakin saw the look of longing in his son's eyes. It was the look any Force sensitive got when they had found the crystal that called to them. He seemed to be going back and forth—if Anakin had to guess, his son was debating on ignoring the feeling and doing what he'd been told to do, and taking it anyway. Take the crystal, my son, Anakin silently pleaded, Don't resist that call…
With a hard look of determination, Luke snatched the other crystal, and Anakin felt his heart warm. It wasn't a red Sith crystal. The Light had called to his son through that crystal, and Luke had responded. After he grabbed the crystal, both teens took off running.
The scene changed once more.
They were sitting on the side of the mountain. Luke had the pieces of a lightsaber before him. "Why get two crystals?" Fireheart was asking, "Those won't be compatible, so you can't do a double blade…."
"Quiet."
Fireheart continued. "And, you're supposed to wait until we get back to assemble the lightsaber…"
"And, where in the rules did it say that?" He closed his eyes, settling into a meditation position. "They gave us the parts. They said they'd help us, not that we had to wait for them. I'm not waiting around: We have better chances of survival out here with a lightsaber than without one. Now, be quiet so that I can concentrate."
If Fireheart wanted to argue, she refrained from doing so, as Luke closed his eyes, reaching out through the Force to pick up the pieces and the red lightsaber crystal he'd stolen. The process to assemble a lightsaber did not happen quickly. Even the most experienced of Jedi spent hours working on it. New beginners could take days or even weeks to make a lightsaber. Within the vision, time seemed to pass quickly; though, the light of day changed as Luke spent the time assembling the lightsaber. As Anakin watched, it felt like a few moments within the dream before finally Luke had assembled the lightsaber. He opened his eyes, reaching out as the Force brought the saber into his hand. "Are you sure you did it right?" Fireheart whispered.
Luke frowned, studying the lightsaber carefully. "I guess we'll find out."
Anakin wanted to protest, but Fireheart did so for him. "If you didn't do it right, it could blow up and kill us both, y'know."
Luke just rolled his eyes.
"Then go somewhere else if you're scared." But, Fireheart stayed put as Luke found the switch on the hilt and ignited it, casting them in an eerie red glow. They waited for a few breathless moments while the saber hummed in Luke's hands. Finally, Luke grinned. "See? Nothing to it."
First try. Anakin was truly impressed, even if it was a Sith blade Luke had just assembled.
Still, Anakin couldn't help but wonder if part of the reason for Luke's quick assembly had to do with ingrained Jedi instinct rather than pure luck. As a Jedi Master in their old galaxy, especially if he'd taken on Padawans, Luke would have had to become intimately familiar with building a lightsaber. Fireheart didn't grasp that reasoning, but in her voice, he could hear grudging respect. "Nice job. Now, let's get out of here before…"
"Stop right there." Anakin's heart twisted painfully. He knew that voice. Neeja. Both teens whirled around, finding Neeja standing alone on the side of the mountain, arms crossed, eyes narrowed and focused on…
Luke.
"Shit," Fireheart hissed, turning, "Let's get out of here Starkiller!"
Luke had blanched and was now pale. He stared back at Neeja. Anakin tried to recall if Luke had ever met Neeja, but he didn't believe he had other than listening to some of Anakin's conversations with the older Master and saying 'Hi' to the Nepal based Jedi over the comm unit when he was a small boy. Perhaps he was remembering Neeja's voice, or perhaps it was something about Neeja's presence that called to Luke. Regardless, when Luke looked at Neeja, he recognized him. That fact was without question.
Neeja's eyes widened a little, apparently recognizing Luke as well. "Starkiller?" He echoed, taking a step towards Luke. Anakin could see the panic flare in Luke's eyes, as he glanced between Neeja and Fireheart. "That's not who you are."
"Don't listen to him, let's get out of here! He's stalling for time!" Fireheart insisted desperately.
Luke took a hesitant step backwards towards Fireheart, but his gaze was still transfixed on the Jedi who was continually edging towards him as if trying not to scare off a wounded animal.
"There are a lot of people looking for you right now."
Luke was frozen, completely ignoring Fireheart's pleas to leave. Why Fireheart didn't leave without him, Anakin wasn't sure, but she continued to press Luke to snap out of it. "I am Neeja. I'm a friend." He reached Luke, towering over him. Luke still had the lightsaber activated, hanging limply in his hand by his side. Neeja studied him, feeling him out in the Force, a frown deepening. "This isn't who you are. You aren't this 'Starkiller.' You are Lu…"
Luke's eyes suddenly widened, his face going ashen. "No!" he cried, his voice breaking, and before Neeja could move out of the way, Luke brought his lightsaber up and plunged it into the Jedi's chest, breathing hard, his entire body shaking.
For a moment, both just stood there, the lightsaber impaled in Neeja's chest, Luke staring wide-eyed and horrified at what he'd just done, while Fireheart had gone silent. Finally, Luke deactivated the lightsaber, and Neeja slumped to the ground, landing face-first at Luke's feet. Luke jumped back, looking almost green, like he was going to be sick. "Oh, Force," Luke breathed, "What have….what…."
Anakin watched, heartbroken, not only as his friend lay dying, but as his son, who had clearly reacted in panic, now faced the reality that he'd taken a life. At no older than fourteen, Luke had killed a man. Why? Because he was desperate to keep his identity a secret? Was it really so important? How might things have changed had Luke allowed Neeja into whatever walls he'd built around himself? He could have been rescued. Neeja had known who Luke was—he would have informed Anakin immediately and brought him home. Was Luke really that desperate to hide from his father? Apparently so.
But, for Force's sake, why?!
Other shouts drifted down from the side of the mountain. "We've got to go, Starkiller," Fireheart was saying, practically shouting to get Luke's attention. Slowly, he pulled his gaze up from the dead man at his feet. "Or, the rest of his Jedi pals will catch us!"
Slowly, Luke nodded, and, glancing one last time at Neeja, he moved to follow Fireheart down the mountain.
Anakin roused to consciousness from the vision, his own body shaking with the impact of what he'd seen. If anything, the meditation had only made him feel worse…but it had answered some long held questions.
Neeja had died because he'd known who Luke was. He, like Anakin, hadn't fully realized just how deeply rooted Luke had become in this mess of Palpatine's, and had underestimated the situation. It had cost his friend his life. Just as it had almost cost Anakin his.
Luke also had to be experiencing at least some memories from his previous lifetime. It was the only thing that could explain how he'd put the lightsaber together on the first try. Padawans never did that. Not him. Not Obi-Wan. Not Leia. He doubted Luke had gotten it right the first time either in their old galaxy, but in this world, it was as if he knew exactly what to do. Perhaps he could use this information to remind Luke of the person he really was, not this…darkness that had consumed him.
Then, there was Luke's struggle with the Dark Side. The Luke he'd fought on the roof had certainly been using the Dark Side at the time, but Luke wasn't…a Sith. Just because someone used the Dark Side, that didn't mean they were a Sith. Sith adhered to certain rules, whereas right now, Luke didn't seem to be caring about any rules. Even when Luke was training under Palpatine to become a Sith, he had struggled with the Dark Side and the Light. He hadn't just saved Fireheart's life, he'd teamed up with her. A true Sith would have let her die, and he certainly wouldn't have bothered to continue to help her. He had calmed the tiger and let it go free. Sith couldn't form the connections needed to control beasts like that. They only would have made the beast angrier. Then, there was Luke being drawn to another lightsaber crystal, the second one he'd stolen. Sith didn't treat lightsabers with the same reverence as a Jedi—Vader had, but Vader had been…different. Vader had still had some Light within him. Luke taking the crystal showed that he, at the very least, listened to the Light occasionally.
His son, though lost in darkness, could truly be brought home. He had more questions, of course. His mind drifted back to the girl he saw these visions through. Clearly, she had been an important role in Luke's life at one time. Whatever had put Luke on the path to trying to destroy Palpatine, he had a sinking feeling that she was the catalyst, the eye of the storm that Luke had gotten lost in.
He intended to find out just what role she'd played in Luke's fallen state on this quest to bring him home.
Luke had never flown a ship before, but he somehow knew instinctively when the Millennium Falcon pulled back into auto pilot. He grimaced, staring dejectedly at the round, checkered chess board-table. Since he wasn't playing a game, the hologram wasn't turned on, but he and Chewie had spent quite a bit of downtime during their flights to various jobs playing against one another. Somehow, when his companions returned from their respective stations, he doubted they'd be keen on playing a game with him.
Mara was the first to enter the room from the quad-gun access tube, where she had fired the gun that had kept his father from capturing him on that rooftop. They instantly locked eyes, and Luke could feel her opening her mind up to him. He got the message, and carefully opened up just enough to communicate. How did they find us?
Mara let out a short, irritated breath. I put a tracker on my ship in case of emergencies. Apparently, they thought snooping in our business counted as an 'emergency'.
Luke inwardly cursed, but he didn't have enough time to be upset. He had to come up with a game plan. What do they know?
They only know that these missions aren't as safe as you made them out to be. Mara hesitated, glancing back towards the cockpit. I think they're worried about you, Luke.
Wasn't everybody these days, Luke bitterly thought, wishing that Han kept alcohol in the kitchen area of the ship. He didn't. Before Luke could come up with a response, Han entered the room from the cockpit by himself. Chewie had apparently stayed up front to keep an eye on the controls. The Millennium Falcon was an extraordinary ship with all of its special modifications, but that also meant it constantly needed to be maintained. Han sat down in his swiveling chair next to various instruments, looking Luke over silently for a long moment. Luke waited, trying to seem like he wasn't the least bit bothered by how this night had turned out.
Too bad that was far from the truth. Luke was reeling on the inside. Honestly, he wished he were alone right now: He needed to think. After so many years of hiding from his father, finally facing him had been unnerving, to say the least. None of it had happened like Luke had imagined their reunion would go—he'd expected his father to hunt him down and kill him without mercy. While his father certainly had been persistent in chasing him, when they finally faced off in a duel…he hadn't been aggressive at all. Instead, he'd been defensive, and reluctantly so, at that, as if he were completely shocked by Luke's aggressive actions.
But, what disturbed Luke the most was what he'd asked as they broke away from each other. Why? As if he really didn't know why Luke had hated him all these years. Why Luke was more than willing to get rid of his father before his father tried to kill him. As if he'd forgotten what Luke had done to his own mother…
Han spoke, breaking off Luke's thoughts. "Are you going to explain what the hell just happened down there and why we were chased by your murderous father on a cheap speeder? Or, are you just going to ignore the fact that we just saved your ass?"
Normally, Luke would have objected to the saved ass part. He was more than capable of saving himself. But, he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had Mara not led Han and Chewie to his location. Still, Luke wasn't ready to admit to that. "Are you going to explain why you followed us for no reason?" Luke countered instead.
"Me?" Han asked mock-innocently, "Sorry, Kid, but when a seventeen-year-old who is clearly in over his head keeps going off on mysterious secret missions, I wanna know what's going on. You weren't telling me, so I followed, and it's a good thing I did, too! You'd be dead tonight if it wasn't for us."
Maybe. His mind flashed back to his father's strange behavior…and the strange feeling of terrible, heartbreaking, awful loss that Luke had felt around him, as if something truly precious had been ripped away from him. Perhaps it had to do with his mother…but no, this felt different, somehow, as if the loss was felt not only in his soul, but in the Force as well. "They don't usually get that dangerous." Luke grumbled.
"Yeah?" Han asked dubiously, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Well, even if they haven't been, you said yourself: You're getting close to the end of Palpatine's trail. It's bound to get more dangerous." Han sighed, looking over at Mara. "Back me up here, will ya?"
Mara hesitated, looking from Luke to Han. Mara tended to stay out of arguments between Luke and Han mainly because Mara was intensely loyal. It was who she was. She had a loyalty not only to Han, but to Luke as well…although, Luke didn't fully understand some of her reasoning behind her loyalty to him. Sure enough, she said aloud, "Oh no, Solo, you're not dragging me into this."
"But, you are in it, Jade," Han insisted, "You're helping him out! You're putting yourself in danger! Now, we have to figure out how to get your ship back to London and…"
"Mara is enough backup, Han." Luke insisted, interrupting his friend's spiel. He wanted to be done with the conversation. He stood to indicate that. "I don't need more help. But, if I do, I'll be sure to let you know."
Han was already shaking his head. "You're going to get yourself killed, Kid." Though Han made it sound on the surface like he was annoyed at Luke for inconveniencing him with his seemingly suicidal schemes, Luke could sense his friend's worry. Being ten years older than them, at 27, Han had sort of taken them on not only as co-workers and friends, but as a big-brother figure. Still, he also strived to keep the nonchalant, selfish smuggler image going, so to those who didn't know him, his responses sometimes seemed uncaring. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
"I won't, but…" Luke broke off as he moved to leave, staring at his friend.
Something…something about Han sitting in that chair…why did it seem so familiar? Sure, he'd seen Han sit there plenty of times, but for some reason, right that moment…
Suddenly, the interior of the Falcon seemed dirtier, as if it were much older and in serious need of a deep clean. Han still sat in that chair, but his attire was totally different…there wasn't a casual black t-shirt and some jeans and sneakers. He wore a long-sleeved, white shirt with a black vest over it, with black pants and knee-high black boots. He was pulling the "I don't care what anyone thinks" look off quite well. He was facing Luke, a grin on his face. "Hokey-religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, Kid."
Before he could fathom what was happening, he was saying something back to Han: "You don't believe in the Force, do you?" He hadn't actually moved his lips, but he heard his own voice, just the same.
Han rolled his eyes. "Kid, I've flown from one side of this galaxy to the other. I've seen a lot of strange stuff, but I've never seen anything to make me believe that there's one all powerful Force controlling everything." Then, cockily, "No mystical Force controls my destiny. It's all a lot of simple tricks and nonsense." He turned back to the controls, and suddenly…
Luke's head exploded with severe pain, as he came back to reality, leaning against the chess board that he'd accidentally turned on to keep from falling over. He breathed hard, sweat running down his face, his body shaking. "Luke?" Han was at his right side, looking torn between helping support his weight and giving him space.
Mara was not torn. She was at his left, one hand on his shoulder, the other over his heart. There was worry, even fear in her emerald green eyes. "Force, Luke, what is happening to you?!" She asked, her voice uncharacteristically frantic.
He didn't know. He opened his mouth to respond, but his father's image flashed in his head, the way he'd looked at him on that rooftop, asking Why? Pain, shock, fear, worry…even, dare he think it, love…were reflected in those matching orbs of blue staring at him. This didn't make any sense, dammit! The word sent another wave of piercing anguish through Luke's head, and his knees buckled, the world going black, that word echoing in his head:
Why? Why? Why?
LONG chapter! I know. But I wanted to include so much here so that I can move the story along. Luke is clearly struggling, and Anakin and Padme are chasing leads. What will happen?
Thanks so much for all of your reviews! They mean so much to me. I figured out the moderating reviews thing, so that's fixed. Yay! Haha one guest reviewer made me die laughing for about fifteen minutes straight. Apparently, she's a huge Mara/Luke shipper. Her suggestion was to have them "violate the Jedi code multiple times" and though I'm not going to write that, it DID make me go into a fit of giggles. As George Takei would say: "Ohhhhhh myyyyyy..."
There were a lot of songs that inspired this chapter. Here goes:
Kingdom Come-The Civil Wars
Talia's Theme-Two Steps from Hell (yes it really is her theme)
Wolf-First Aid Kit
And Asami and Hiroshi/ Korra Airbends-The Legend of Korra.
Review!
Love,
Sarah
