Saber Four: The Final Spirit
****
Silently, slowly, and gravely, the phantom approached him. When it came within a few feet of him, Luke found himself bent upon his knee. The very air through which this spirit moved seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.
It was shrouded in a deep black garment that concealed its head and face, leaving nothing visible except for its hunched frame and one outstretched, wrinkled hand. It appeared to be very similar to...
The dead Emperor? Luke's eyes widened in horror. "Palpatine?"
But the spirit said nothing.
"Are you the ghost of Christmas Future?" Luke asked.
Slowly, ominously, and with a strange anger, the spirit picked up a stick and wrote on the ground: It's "Christmas Yet To Come," idiot.
"Ah. So, you're going to show me shadows of the things that haven't happened—but will happen?"
The spirit nodded and traced in the dirt. Surprisingly correct. Idiot.
Luke narrowed his eyes, but the air of fear that seemed to surround this ghost replaced his anger.
The ghost started moving, and Luke followed. They became airborne, and the ghost stopped beside a small group of men, pointing to them with a gnarled hand.
Realizing what was desired, Luke reluctantly went beside them and listened to their conversation.
"No," said a fat human with several chins. "I don't know anythin' 'bout it 'cept that 'e is dead."
[When did he die?] a Rodian asked.
"Last night, I b'lieve."
"What was the matter with him?"
"No one knows. Died in his sleep or some such."
"Is he having a funeral? Or are they just planning on burning his body? Or maybe they're throwing it out into space for the black holes....Of course, they'd probably just spit 'im back up!" chortled a Tloyah, waving its many arms about.
"I'd come if they'd provide a lunch!" the fat man stated jovially.
"Yeah, I'd have to be fed as well!" a furry Minoatt agreed.
After a few more words were exchanged, the group broke apart and Luke looked toward the spirit for an explanation.
But no answers or scribbles in the dirt awaited him. The phantom merely moved on, bringing him to Kam's house.
****
Everyone was quiet in the Solusar household, and an air of death pervaded the home.
The little girl watched the small boy as he tried to read aloud, "The pittin—" he stopped, unable to go on.
Tionne was looking at a datacard, but she finally set it down. "It hurts my eyes to squint at the thing, and I wouldn't show weak eyes to your father when he comes home for all the world...He should be home soon."
"He walks slower now, ever since—" The little girl cut off.
There was a brief period of silence until Tionne broke it. "He has walked—" she cleared her throat, "he has walked very fast with Little Lucas on his shoulders before."
"Yes," the two little children seconded.
"He was very light to carry, and it was no tro—" Tionne cut off when she saw her husband come in.
"Poor Little Lucas, gods rest his soul. I will forever remember his joyous spirit," Kam proclaimed weakly, trying to put on a brave face. But he was downhearted, and his family immediately tried to cheer him up.
****
Saddened, Luke turned to the spirit. "Poor Little Lucas...Is this what is to happen to him?"
The spirit didn't say or do anything.
After a moment of expectant silence, Luke looked at him. "Something tells me that we are about to leave...Tell me, who was the man that died?"
The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come stared at him for a moment before beginning to walk away.
Luke followed and abruptly found himself in a graveyard.
Tombstones were scattered all about. Some had statues that guarded the body beneath its stone, and some were plain and listed only names and dates.
The spirit stood among the graves, pointing to one with elaborate statues on the top of it.
"Before I read it, tell me one thing. Are these things that will happen...or things that might happen?"
The ghost continued pointing, saying nothing.
"If men change their ways, will their ends change? Please, tell me before you show me that grave!"
The spirit still did not move.
Slowly, as if pulled by some unknown force, Luke crept to the tombstone and ignored the writing at the top and went straight to the name.
LUKE SKYWALKER.
"I am the one that died?" Luke cried out.
The wrinkled finger pointed from the grave to him and back again.
"No! No!"
The finger no longer moved. It just continued pointing.
"Please!" Luke clutched the spirit's robe. "I'm not that man that I was! And I won't be the man that I was when this was supposed to happen! Why show me this if I'm past all hope?!"
For the first time, the hand appeared to shake.
"Have pity on me! Assure me that I may change what has happened here by altering my life!"
Again, the hand trembled.
"I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it through all of the year! I will not shut out the lessons that I have been taught! Oh, tell me that I can wipe away the writing that is on this stone!"
In his agony, he caught the gnarled hand. It sought to free itself, but he continued to hang to it tightly. Finally, he felt the Force pry himself from the spirit.
Then he fell into blackness.
