AN: As always my thanks to those who are reading this and to the few who have been kind enough to comment.

This is not beta read so all mistakes are my own.

All Previous Disclaimers Apply


Insidious

Part Nine

The Jedi

Obi-Wan gripped the edge of the passenger seat with both hands, his stomach looping and churning, as Biggs Darklighter piloted the small Skyhopper up and over and down a large sand dune. He never had liked flying, despite doing so much of it in the past, and Biggs' daredevil piloting unfortunately reminded him of his old apprentice.

Obi-Wan's lips pressed together, showing his tension; the thought of Anakin heightening his anxiety and he instinctively reached for the Force to calm himself. He winced and pulled back; the Force felt convoluted, so deep and dark, its patterns shifting and changing; heaving with power and potential, teasing him with the possible outcomes for this journey.

Luke is all right…

Luke took refuge from the storm…

Luke is already on his way home…

Luke is alive…

Luke is gone…

Luke is injured…

Luke is dead…

Luke is fallen…

Anakin found Luke…

Anakin!

Had he truly sensed Anakin…

No, Vader. His name is Vader…

… last night? Had the fire that had burned do darkly within the Force been his old apprentice? It had been so long since he had been in Anakin's presence, so long since he had sensed what Anakin felt like. After almost two decades, did he really know what Vader's presence would feel like now? Could it possibly have been Luke's own fear and horror at being caught in the worst storm to ever hit this region that had echoed with his father's Force presence…

and what the devil was the boy doing sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night?

Owen and Beru were frantic at finding Luke's bed empty in the morning and his speeder gone. They had no idea when he had left; if it had only been a few hours before, or if it had been just a few minutes prior to them rising? However, Obi-Wan's arrival and his dust covered and haggard appearance had frightened them both and Owen had immediately alerted the local militia and thus the search for Luke had begun.

Soon after they had learned from local farmers that Sandpeople had been spotted taking shelter just three kilometres from the Lars' farmstead and the couple's terror for their nephew had gone into lightspeed. Which was to be expected when one remembered what had happened to Anakin's mother and…

Anakin again…

His thoughts were always drawn back, dragged back, to Anakin and his failure to guide the boy, to advise the youth, to see the dark manipulation that took the man.

"Are you okay, Mr Kenobi?"

Biggs' question and concerned glance were a welcome distraction from his thoughts. "Yes, yes," he assured the boy. "I am quite well, thank you. Just concerned for your young friend."

Another drop down a large dune and again Kenobi's stomach dived. He swallowed.

"You look a little green, sir," Biggs observed his voice carrying a smile despite his worry for Luke.

"It has been sometime since I have flown," Obi-Wan confessed, his finger's still gripping the seat, "I'm afraid my stomach has never liked the sensation."

"I'd take us higher, but the 'hopper's sensors work better at low altitude."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, I understand, my boy. I shall be quite all right and if…" The back of his neck suddenly prickled, the Force spiked and he found himself speaking before the words had fully formed in his mind. "Take us to port, toward the flats."

Biggs frowned, glanced at his sensors. "That's out of the search grid and…"

"Please, indulge me," Obi-Wan requested, knowing… just knowing… that what they needed to find was in that direction and… not far…

Was it Luke? Was he alive? That was something that Obi-Wan could not tell; so much was hidden, so much was unknown and clouded by the Dark Side. He only knew that his answers lay in the direction that Biggs now turned.

The Darklighter boy opened the throttle wider and the 'hopper picked up speed, as though even he had felt the urging of the Force. It was possible of course, every living being had some connection with the Force in one way or another even if they were not aware of it.

The dunes gave way to the flats; a vast, empty area that was filled only by dried out corpses and a few dotted, crumbling dwellings that spoke of failed attempts to settle the place.

"There," Obi-Wan pointed ahead to where the horizon shimmered with heat, and where he knew the flats suddenly ended in towering bluffs, "just before the cliffs."

The young man beside him peered into the haze. "I don't see anyth…. Oh, wait, I see it! You have good eyesight, sir."

"Take us down, Biggs," Obi-Wan instructed tightly. He could feel it; the taint of the dark side. Something had happened here. "That structure there and…"

"That's Luke's speeder!" Biggs suddenly burst, spotting Skywalker's vehicle dusted with sand parked alone outside the structure. Biggs' voice was tight, betraying his fear and concern for his friend. The skyhopper lurched, dropped suddenly, as Biggs brought it low, landing it a little harder than normal in his rush to get down and get to his friend.

"Call it in, Biggs," Obi-Wan instructed as he popped the canopy and grabbed the small med-kit that Biggs carried in the vehicle. "Tell them where we are and that we'll bring Luke home."

He could feel Biggs' confusion, could feel the younger man questioning how Obi-Wan seemed to know that Luke truly was within that building. "Yes, sir."

The Jedi turned to briefly appraise the structure. It was run down, much like his own, it's exterior pitted and crumbling in some areas but still sound. The door was lying open, it's closing mechanism long damaged and defunct and sand from the storm had blown into the opening and across the sunslit floor. If it had not been for Luke's speeder parked outside then no-one would have been able to tell if anyone was here as the dust storm had erased all traces of movement from the sand.

Luke was in there. He could feel it. A tiny, dimming, pulse within the Force…

Obi-Wan took in a breath, afraid of what he would find…

have I failed you, Padme?

… and quickly walked to the open door. The light did not reach far into the single, large room, but it reached far enough.

Luke lay prone on the sand covered, blood stained, floor; a long gaderffi stick protruding from his back.

Tuskens?

Obi-Wan rushed to the boy's side. "Luke?!"

He hesitated, paused, reminding himself of his battlefield medical training. Quickly he checked the area visually and with the Force for any lingering dangers.

Luke was alone, that much was certain. There were scuffs and drag marks in the sand all over the room, fresh cuts and notches in the walls of the room, blackened gouges in the ceiling and walls...

...blaster fire?

...a mound of ragged sandstone rocks from which debris spread out over the floor. Had the boy sought refuge from the storm, only to be surprised by a Tusken Raider also sheltering here? That there were signs of a struggle, a vicious fight, was obvious and there was definitely a trace of the dark side here, but was that down to the work of the Force, or merely a result of the events in this place; had Luke, in his fear and terror at being attacked by Sandpeople, instinctively called upon the dark side of the Force to save himself?

Again it crossed his mind that it was Luke himself who had felt like Anakin. Luke who had been like an echo of his father as he had fought for his life.

Was Luke's potential so great that even untrained, even ignorant of the Force, he could instinctively summon it to protect himself? Had Luke stepped onto the path of the Dark Side before his journey into the Force could truly begin?

And had he already failed Luke as he had failed his father?

He crouched down by the gravely injured and deeply unconscious boy, taking precious time to assess the damage. The gaffi stick was deeply entrenched in Luke's back; the flanges hidden in the swelling flesh. Blood still welled up from the wound to dribble in rivulets through the saturated cloth of Luke's tunic. It dripped to the floor adding to the pool of wet, crimson sand. Luke's wrist looked twisted and broken and a neat row of bloodied cuts were sliced though one sleeve and across his back. There were contusions on the side of the boy's face, blood in his hair and his lips were tinged blue; a sure sign of oxygen deprivation, or sand bat venom, or both. Obi-Wan checked Luke's hands, noting the stiff curl of his fingers; venom.

With every slow beat of Luke's heart Obi-Wan could feel the life ebb from the boy.

He sighed, sadly, rubbing at his chin, feeling the bristle of beard again his palm.

The fire and rage…

Anakin… It had felt like Anakin.

And yet all he could find here, all he could see, was evidence of a desperate fight and a boy gravely wounded by a Tusken weapon.

It didn't make sense.

Could he even be sure of his own powers any more since the shadow of the Dark Side obscured and distorted everything? Perhaps the dark side was at work in him…

Question yourself, you do, Obi-Wan. Listen to the Force. Do what you feel is right, you must.

He briefly smiled at the echo of memory from his own padawan days and he fleetingly wondered how his old friend and master, Yoda, was faring in his own self-imposed exile.

Do what you feel is right…

The Jedi knelt into the sand and ripped open the med-pack, drawing out a rehydrate pack and the anti-venom vial as footsteps ran to the door and Biggs stumbled to a stop just within the building.

"Suns…." The youth whispered in horror.

"He is alive," Obi-Wan assured him, placing a comforting hand on Luke's head; the youth briefly stirred and moaned at the touch. "But we must act quickly. Here, Biggs, help me…"

ooOOoo

The Pupil

Deeply immersed in the Force Luke moved through his practice, stepping forward and bringing his hands together as though holding the hilt of a sword. In his mind the handgrip was solid in his hands, balanced, the blade of the lightsaber extending by a metre and a half, the buzz and hum of it helping him focus on the task at hand as he progressed through his katas. His muscles flexed, and he used the pain of his healing back injury to strengthen his connection to the Dark Side. His feet scraped on the sandy floor, his choreography of steps measured and precise just as he had been taught. The swing of his arms, the flexibility of his body was…

He stopped, brought his legs together, stood at ease and dispelled the image of his illusory sword. He could feel the sweat from his exercise trickle down the small of his back, could feel the beads of fluid on his brow slide down the side of his face, could hear the harsh breathing of his lungs as he heaved in the hot Tatooine air. He opened his eyes and, keeping his back to the open door, he greeted the man who stood there, forcing out the one word his master had left him with.

"Father."

"So," The Dark Lord rumbled with pleasure at the greeting. "You remembered our master's words."

"I always remember his words," Luke told him, turning around to face the man who had almost killed him in this room a few short weeks ago.

"He is pleased with you," Vader told his son.

"Is he?" Luke kept his voice level, aware that once more he was unarmed and that his father carried a lightsaber on his belt. He remembered his master's lessons on Sith: the master and the apprentice. There were always only two and any challenger to either position would be brutally dispatched. "Then where is he?"

There was amusement in the Force as Vader stepped forward and Luke took a rapid step back, watching his father, wary for any sign of an aggressive move. He knew it would come quickly, he knew that he would have to counter an attack and meet violence with violence. If he could just reach…

"I am not here to kill you, although I should chastise you for your impudence; our Master would not tolerate your tone if he were here."

Luke knew that was true. By now he would have been a screaming heap on the floor, gasping for breath as his master's Force lightning retreated to pale clawed fingers and Sidious' barbed words would burn just as hotly as he verbally lashed him for his insolence, but his father was not his master…

"Then why are you here, father?" He laced the last word with venom, reminding his father that he had never come for him throughout his seventeen years and the one time that Vader had come he had almost killed his own son; but if Luke was looking for explanations and recognition then he was getting neither.

"I have something for you," Vader moved, Luke tensed further and only then did he notice that Vader carried a simple black shoulder pack in his hand. The Dark Lord tossed it to him and whatever was inside clattered as Luke caught it. He looked to his sire for an explanation.

"You are to familiarise yourself with the contents… learn," he was told, one gloved hand raised to point at him in emphasis. "You need to be prepared."

"For what?"

Vader hesitated, clearly reluctant to say more. "Our master had a vision, a great event is approaching and you are at the centre of it," Vader explained, "You will be tested by the Force."

Luke tried to silence his surge of fear, tried to swallow as he baulked against another test; the last one had almost been the death of him. "When…?"

His father was silent, but Luke could feel the man's hidden eyes on him, appraising him, judging him.

"That is for the Force to determine. You will know when the time comes and you will either act, or you will not." The Dark Lord turned for door.

Luke stepped forward, the words falling from him before he could silence them. "Father… wait…" and he winced at the longing he could hear in his voice, but this man was his father…. His father!

The Dark Lord stopped, kept his back to his son; his master's latest protégé and the biggest challenge to his own position since he accepted the mantle of the Sith. "Do you know who our master is?"

"Yes," Luke told him. He had put the time he had lain recovering in the Anchorhead Medical Centre to good use. He had reflected on the fight with his father countless times in his mind, analysed his moves, looked for the faults in his performance and tried to figure out how he could have acted differently. He had been preoccupied with the brief words spoken by his master before they had abandoned him to cling to life, to fight against his injuries and the excruciating agony of the sand bat venom as it worked through his veins. For hours, for days, the feeling that he was missing something dragged on his nerves and needled at the back of his mind.

The holonet player in his hospital room was luxury that he did not have at home, but the images that colourfully played out at the end of his bed were a poor distraction and he often just stared at the flickering scenes of fictional dramas with his mind elsewhere while his aunt and uncle fussed, while Biggs' voice droned in the back ground.

"You should have seen them, Luke. I have no idea what she sees in him. Had her tongue half way down is his throat... I've never seen her loyal to anyone before. I think she's mad…"

Loyal…

"… but she's all over him like Stormtrooper armour and…"

Stormtrooper…

"Hey…" Biggs sat forward, waved a hand in front of Luke's face. "Tatooine to Skywalker… Come in Skywalker!"

Luke blinked, forced a grin at his friend sitting by his bed. "Sorry… what did you say?"

"I was telling you about Fixer and Camie getting together."

Luke frowned and shifted on the bed, the wound on his back catching and pulling under the bacta dressing. He winced, settled, "They're together? Since when?"

Biggs laughed, "Where have you been for the last half hour? That's what I've been trying to tell you, they went to Mos Eisley together and…"

"No," Luke interrupted, something had been said that was important. "You said something else… loyal.."

Biggs frowned. "Wow, selective deafness," he teased, putting his feet up on Luke's bed and crossing his ankles. "Your aunt's right you only hear a fraction of what you're told!"

"Biggs… please… this is important I need to know!"

He could see the doubt, the caution, on his friend's face. Biggs was looking at him as though he had a few hydro-screws missing; which wasn't that unusual an occurrence. After all, he had been taught to hide himself, to be something he was not and to Biggs and everyone around him he was a simple farm-boy; he was Wormie.

"You need to know that Camie is loyal to Fixer?" he could hear the scepticism in Biggs' words.

Loyal…

Luke shook his head, grinning disarmingly at his friend, playing along with the joke. Playing Biggs. "No, of course not… but you said something else, something about her being all over him?"

Biggs laughed, snorted. "You have a dirty mind, Luke!"

"What?" Luke could feel himself flush… it was anger, frustration at not getting the answers he sought, but he pretended it was embarrassment. "No! I never meant, I don't want to know… I meant.."

His friend chuckled beside him, enjoying himself at Luke's expense. "Suns, Luke, you're too easy to rile! What I said was she was all over him like Stormtrooper armour, you know because their armour is all…"

Luke grinned easily, and looked down so that Biggs wouldn't see the satisfaction on his face as understanding slid home.

Stormtroopers…

Loyal Stormtroopers…

"I know how that works," Luke assured him with a quiet laugh. He glanced back up at his older friend and pointed at his face. "But I'm not sure what that is growing on your upper lip"

Biggs pursed his lips, ran his middle finger over the growth of hair. "What? You don't think it makes me look distinguished?"

When he had driven through the sandstorm he had seen the Imperial Troopers and had questioned their presence, but his master's call had been too strong, too urgent, for him to ponder their being there. He had killed one, pushed the other out of the building after grabbing his blaster and still he had been unable to grasp why they were there.

However, he had felt their loyalty to his master and there was only one man in the Galaxy to whom these soldiers would be loyal.

"He is Darth Sidious," he announced to Vader in answer to his question, "he is the Emperor Palpatine."

Vader turned around, "then you understand my position?"

Luke lifted his chin. "You are his apprentice, his… successor."

"And you, boy?" The Dark Lord asked. "Where is your place?"

Luke chilled, the heat of day faded and the sweat from his exercise felt like iced water on his skin. He knew what Vader was asking, he understood the unspoken implication in the question. This wasn't the moment that Vader had spoken about, this wasn't the test that was to come. This was his father's own trial; this moment, and his response, would define the relationship that was to come.

Their master was old, ancient and yet he was still the most powerful of them all. His father was formidable, but Luke could sense that behind his father's darkness lay a man who had lost something a long time ago and that, whatever it had been, had become an obstruction that prevented him from having the strength to overthrow Palpatine. His own powers, although growing and developing over the last five years had not yet matured into what was needed to take down Sidious, his own father had taught him that.

But, together… as father and son…

Luke closed his eyes, bowed his head, seeking his answers in the coils of the Dark Side. Then he squared his shoulders, looked up at his sire and lowered himself to one knee. "My place is here, father."

He could feel his sire's satisfaction slide home. He could feel the hum of pleasure in the force as Vader turned his back to him once more and took a step toward the door.

"He doesn't know you are here, does he?" Luke challenged, his fingers tightly grasping the bag his father had thrown him, knowing that whatever it contained had not come from Sidious.

The Dark Lord hesitated, the helmet turned and tilted as though he was looking back over his shoulder at the kneeling boy. "No, my son, he does not."

And he was gone.

It was a few moments before Luke could move, before he could summon the strength to stand, so taken aback was he by Vader's acknowledgement.

"… my son…"

ooOOoo

To be Continued….