Everything hurt.

That was the first thing Luke noticed, before he was even fully awake. Every single part of his body—even his mechanical hand—ached fiercely. He groaned in pain as consciousness slowly returned. Why was everything so sore?

Oh yeah...

He'd been electrocuted, then had to drag his father (who was kriffing heavy!) onto a shuttle to escape the exploding Death Star, only to crash on a strange planet that was somehow not Endor. And there had been storm troopers involved in there somewhere, and a tall blond guy with a lightsabre, and someone who looked like he might have been related to Old Ben?

Ben... Maybe his mentor would have an idea what was going on.

Eyes still closed, Luke reached out to see if he could connect with the spirit that had been following him for the last three years. But... something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He couldn't feel the Force. At all! Even when he'd been a child, before he'd known what the Force was or how to use it properly, there had always been something. He'd always known where things were, always just known where to find people, plants, animals, water... But now that was just gone.

Luke had never felt so alone.

He opened his eyes slowly, not necessarily wanting to alert his captors that he was awake. The room around him was an infirmary, which Luke supposed made sense. Blondie had professed not to want to hurt him unless he had to. But everything looked... off. The equipment was all brand-new, but... it was old at the same time, more akin to the second-hand things from the Clone Wars era that the Rebellion sometimes got a hold of than something you'd see in the hands of Imperials.

Maybe the people who'd picked him up were historical reenactors, not real storm troopers? But no, who would be re-enacting scenes from the Clone Wars? That made no sense.

There were a couple of storm troopers in the room; he supposed he could ask them if he wanted. One of them was sitting not too far from Luke's bed, typing something on a datapad. The other was across the room, in front of a bacta tank, programming something into the treatment console.

Luke let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he saw who was floating in the tank. His father was alive. That was good, at least.

Although that left him with a conundrum. If these were Imperials, they would take good care of his father, but probably not so much of him, at least until Vader was awake enough to give orders. But if they were anyone else, as soon as they realized who Vader was, they were likely to space him rather than finish treating him.

So...

Luke really had to figure out where he was and who these people were.

He kept his eyes barely cracked open and his breathing slow and even, hoping the troopers wouldn't realize he was awake yet as he continued to take inventory of the situation. His pulse, though, he couldn't control. His heart rate spiked when he tried to reach out with the Force again, only to still be unable to feel a thing. A monitor beside the bed beeped wildly in response.

Both troopers instantly turned their attention to him, and kriff, that was disorienting. They had the same face. Twins, maybe? He'd thought the Empire did their best to keep families in separate parts of the corps, though.

The trooper who'd been programming the bacta tank finished his work quickly and strode to Luke's bedside. "You shouldn't be awake yet."

"Sorry." Luke winced. His throat was so dry... His voice sounded almost as raspy as his father's. He moved to try and rub the aches from his shoulders, only to realize that his wrists were cuffed to the medical bed. The cuffs weren't standard ones; there was something odd about the design, but Luke couldn't say what function it might serve.

Maybe something built in to subdue him if he tried to escape?

"Water?" If he was in a medical center, it was a safe bet they didn't want him dead right away.

The trooper brought a glass over and helped him drink, slowly. "I wasn't expecting you to wake up until tomorrow at the earliest."

"How... How long have I been here?"

"The general found you yesterday. You've been in my care for approximately 36 standard hours." The trooper gestured to himself and his twin. "I'm Kix; this is my brother Hardcase."

Hardcase gave a little wave, but his expression was serious. "I should probably comm the generals and let them know you woke up early." He fidgeted in his seat. "Do you think the kid's well enough to talk to them, Kix? Captain Rex said they had about a thousand questions to ask, and that was before the cleanup squad from the 212th got back."

Kix examined Luke with a frown. "He's not up for that much questioning, but it's probably for the best if they're allowed to see him briefly."

Luke winced. "Don't I get a say in this?"

Both troopers stared at him.

"Not really. You are a prisoner, at least for the moment."

Hardcase tapped a button on his comm. "General Skywalker?"

Wait... Skywalker?

"Yes, Hardcase?" Luke recognized the voice as belonging to the blond guy who'd cut the shuttle open after it crashed.

"The Luke kid is awake. Kix says he's still not up for much, but you can see him for a bit if you want."

"I definitely want. I'll be there in a few clicks. Are the cuffs still working?"

Hardcase glanced at the handcuffs holding Luke to the bed. "I think so."

"Good. Skywalker out."

Kix huffed and started organizing some medical equipment nearby. "I wish you'd stayed under a bit longer, kid. Somehow I don't think you'll be getting the rest you need with how interested the general is in you."

Luke didn't know how to respond to that. His head was spinning, and not just from pain and lack of access to the Force. Skywalker. He licked his lips; his mouth and throat still felt a bit dry.

"Kix... Where am I? What day is it?"

The trooper hesitated before answering, then shrugged. "You crashed on Teth just as we were finishing cleanup. Right now, you're in the infirmary of the Resolute."

The planet sounded vaguely familiar, but Luke couldn't remember ever hearing of a ship by that name. It certainly didn't sound like something the Imperials would name a ship, though. "And the date?"

"Benduday the fifth, month six, 978 after the Ruusan Reformation." Kix's seemingly perpetual small frown deepened. "How long have you and your father been lost?"

Oh kark the kriffing Force!

If that were true... Luke wished desperately to connect to the Force, just for a second to make sure the trooper wasn't lying to him. Except, as far as he knew, there was no reason anyone would lie so blatantly, and it would explain why all the machinery looked weird...

He needed to talk to his father. Vader knew more about the Force than he did; maybe he'd know how they ended up in the past, approximately three years before Luke was even born.

"Well, not lost, exactly..." Luke did some quick math. "It's complicated. But I guess, from a certain point of view, it's been 25 years."

He didn't need the Force to sense Kix's doubt at that. "Kid, I will generously estimate your age at 19 or 20. There is no way you've been lost in space for 25 years."

"I'm 22, actually." Luke let outa snort of laughter that instantly turned into a wince of pain. Oh Force, everything ached. "I know I look young. But like I said, it's complicated. I won't really know myself until I get my father's side of the story. Is he alright?"

"As alright as someone who's been turned into so much bantha jerky and melted cheese twice can be." Kix gestured towards the bacta tank. "He's alive and I'm doing what I can. It'll take him longer to recover than you, though. His immune system's been shot to the deepest Corellian Hell and back."

Luke nodded thoughtfully, balling his sheets in his hands. It was... expected. Vader's life support had been extensive, and he'd never gotten the full story of his injuries out of either Vader or Obi-Wan.

"Anything you need to do, you have my permission. I... don't know if it counts for much, since he can't give his, but..."

Kix nodded. "It counts for enough. I've got a specific question, actually."

"I can try to answer, but I might not be much help. I wasn't there when he was burned the first time."

"Yeah, about that..." Kix pulled up some information on a datapad that made no sense to Luke. His medical knowledge began and ended with basic first-aid. "Your father's lungs and digestive tract look just as bad as his skin. Can he eat or breathe without mechanical assistance at all?"

Luke shook his head. "I... don't think so."

"Would you like me to do something about that?"

"What?" Luke momentarily forgot how much everything ached, something cold running down his spine. "You can fix that?"

"Not completely, no. He'll still need to wear a breather when performing any strenuous activity, and he'd be on a fairly restricted diet. But I think I can restore at least minimal function."

"Do it." Luke cleared his throat. "Ah, please. Please do it. Fix him as well as you're able. The more... The more you can give back to him, the less likely I'll lose him again."

Kix nodded and headed back to the bacta tank's controls to adjust the programming. "I'll do my best, kid."

Fwsssssh!

The door to the infirmary slid open. In strode the two men from earlier, the towering blond clad in dark robes and armour, the smaller (although still taller than Luke, unfortunately) ginger wearing cream and white. The blond grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it over, spinning it around so he could sit with his folded arms resting on the chair back. His companion, meanwhile, stood back a ways, leaning against a wall and listening intently.

Ginger looked a lot like Obi-Wan. Luke missed his old mentor so much...

Luke only realized he was staring when Ginger smirked and gave him a little wave. "Hello there."

Oh, dear Force. Someone who looked so much like Old Ben had no right being so cute.

"So..." Blondie stared hard, like he was trying to look into Luke's brain. "Who are you?"

"Luke... My name is Luke." There was no point hiding that, at least, although if he really was in the past, Luke didn't think he should give too much detail without talking to his father about it first. Vader had lived in this time before; Luke hadn't. "Who are you?"

"You... don't recognize us?" Blondie frowned in confusion and glanced over at Ginger. Luke shook his head.

"No. Should I?"

"Well... yeah. Our faces have been all over the holonet the last six months. Everyone knows the Negotiator and the Hero with No Fear."

"Well, I don't." Luke shrugged. "Father might, but Kix says he won't be awake for a while yet."

"What kind of rock have you been living under?"

Luke shrugged again. He had no idea how to answer that.

"He says he and his father have been lost in space for years," Hardcase offered. "He's lying about exactly how long, though. Told Kix it was 25, but then said he's only 22 years old."

Ginger's eyebrow rose. "That is rather unusual."

Biting his lip, Luke glanced at the Obi-Wan lookalike. "It's... complicated. I don't fully understand yet, myself. I need to talk to my father before I can figure out exactly what's going on."

Blondie looked like he was about to protest, but Ginger held up a hand to stop him. "I suppose that's fair. At the very least, the crash has probably left you somewhat disoriented. We can get more detail in a few days. Now, you asked who we are. My name is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi; this is my former padawan, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker."

Anakin twisted in his chair to scowl at Obi-Wan. "Are you sure it's safe to tell him that?"

"Oh, please, Anakin. It's not like our identities are top secret. As you said, all he would have to do is pull up any newsreel on the holonet in the last six months to find out who we are."

"Right..." Anakin turned back to Luke and refocused his frown.

Luke, meanwhile, felt like he had just been immersed in ice. Blondie was his father. Ginger was Obi-Wan. Kriff. How was he going to explain this to his—Vader. He would have to think of the father who came with him as Vader, at least for now. At least until they had a chance to talk and figure this out.

. . .

Kriff, his father used to be hot. Old Ben used to be hot. Luke bit his lip and fought back a growing sense of horror at the realization.

He must have looked as pale as he felt, because Kix approached. "Are you alright, kid? Do you need me to send the generals out?"

Taking a deep breath, Luke shook his head. "No, no, it's okay. I'm alright for now. Just... realized something I'd rather not think about."

Kix nodded and backed off, still keeping a close eye on Anakin and Obi-Wan as he folded some sheets in a corner.

Anakin's eyes were still boring into him. "So, Luke, where are you from?"

"Do you mean where did I grow up or where my father and I were before we crashed on Teth?"

"Both."

Well, as far as Luke could tell, there was no harm in revealing either of those. Hopefully his father wouldn't be upset. "I'm from Tatooine. I think Father was, too, but he spent my entire childhood off-planet. The last system I remember being in before we crashed here was the Endor system."

Anakin blinked in surprise. "Not possible. That's literally on the other side of the galaxy from here."

"I'm just telling you what I remember." Luke shrugged. "I'd tell you to reach out with the Force and you'd see that I'm not lying, but... something seems to have cut me off from the Force. I can't feel it at all."

"About that..." Anakin unclipped Luke and Vader's sabres from his belt and held them where Luke could see, but not reach. "Luke isn't a Sith name."

"Sith?" Luke couldn't remember ever hearing that word, at least not before Anakin cut him out of the ship the day before. "What's a Sith?"

"Stop playing cute," Anakin demanded. "Just because you have the face for it doesn't mean it's going to work on me."

Bzzzew!

Anakin lit Vader's lightsabre, making Luke flinch involuntarily. "This is a Sith sabre."

"That's my father's lightsabre."

"So you admit that you and your father are Sith?"

"No?" Luke cocked his head to the side. "I don't know what you mean. What's a Sith? Is that just a name for someone who uses the Dark Side of the Force?"

It was Obi-Wan who answered. "No. The Sith are a specific order of Dark Side users, just as the Jedi are a specific order of Light Side users. But it is true that, as far as we know, only Sith carry red lightsabres."

Anakin deactivated Vader's sabre with a scowl. "So, you and your father are Sith. Are you Count Dooku's latest assassins?"

Luke tried to sit up; the handcuffs kept him from getting too far. "I don't know who that is. Look, my father and I aren't Sith—I didn't even know what a Sith was until just now. If lightsabre colour means something, though, check mine."

Both Anakin and Obi-Wan shot him dubious looks. However, Anakin did humour him, lighting Luke's sabre with a snort.

Green.

Anakin deactivated the sabre and clipped both back onto his belt. "You probably stole that from a Jedi you killed."

"I did not! I made that sabre!"

"Forgive us if we don't believe you." Anakin turned to Obi-Wan. "We'll need to check whether anyone using a green lightsabre has gone MIA in the last few months."

"Agreed."

"I'm not a Sith!" Luke flopped back on the bed, too tired and sore to keep fighting the handcuffs. "If I could access the Force at all, I'd show you."

"Nice try." Anakin shook his head. "I'm not taking those cuffs off and letting you run rampant through my ship."

Huh. So it was the handcuffs cutting him off from the Force? Luke had heard that the Empire had gadgets like that, but he couldn't remember ever actually seeing them before. It was very uncomfortable.

"Ugh..."

His groan drew attention from Kix, who approached once more. "Sirs, if you're going to keep agitating the patient, I'm going to have to ask you to leave for now. He maybe a prisoner, but he still needs to recover. I'd rather avoid permanent nerve damage."

Anakin muttered something about how that might make the Sith easier to control. Obi-Wan, stepping closer, slapped him lightly on the back of the head.

"Just two more questions for now, Luke," the Jedi Master said gently. "Then you can rest for a while."

"Alright..." Luke closed his eyes. Even though he'd just woken up, he very much felt like he would like to have a nap.

"What is your father's name?"

Oh dear. That was more complicated than it should have been. "I grew up calling him Vader. He... has another name, but it's not mine to share. Not without talking to him first. I don't know what he'll want to call himself now."

Obi-Wan nodded, kicking Anakin when the knight made to demand an explanation. "And... What happened to him? I've never seen someone so badly scarred."

Oh... Yeah, Luke supposed that was true. Not many people got to the point of looking like his father and survived. "I don't really know the details. I'm told it happened around the time I was born. He fought badly with someone he cared deeply about; both thought they had killed the other for years afterwards. I think there was a volcano involved."

Obi-Wan blinked. "That raises more questions than it answers, but I think it's best if I keep most of them to myself for now. I sense Kix has a growing desire to yell at us."

"You sense right, sir," Kix ground out. "My patients need rest. You'll have plenty of time to question the kid once he's recovered from being kriffing electrocuted!"

"Right, right." Pulling Anakin to his feet, Obi-Wan none-too-gently began pushing the younger knight towards the door. He paused halfway there.

"Ah, my apologies, but there's one more question, Luke."

"Mhmm?" Luke struggled to keep his eyes open. The desire for a nap was overwhelming.

"What happened to you? How were you injured?"

"Fought with... guess you'd call him a Sith, maybe. Emperor... Nearly killed me. Finger lightning. Father killed him to save me."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you, Luke. You've given us much to think about. We'll be back to speak with you again when you have more energy."

Smiling softly, Obi-Wan continued his efforts to shove Anakin towards the door. Luke had lapsed back into unconsciousness before the Jedi Master had achieved this goal.