Title: Ghost of the Past
Author: Spirit White
Summary: Luke Skywalker died at thirteen years of age. Abruptly, the threads of the future were torn to pieces and remade, and Leia Organa and Lord Darth Vader must deal with the consequences.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by George Lucas, Lucasfilms Ltd. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Revised Saturday, December 8th, 2007
Chapter Nine: Desolate
Three Months Later
Leia is nineteen standard years old
"Transmitting data," a tinny-sounding voice spoke through the Tantive IV's communications console. A moment later, a beep sounded, signifying the ship receiving the transmission.
"Data received," the communications officer replied. Then there was a series of beeps from another officer's console. The officer jumped to his feet.
"Captain, computer readouts have detected an enormous ship planetside…it's an Imperial-Class Star Destroyer." There was a horrified pause, and Luke turned, feeling a horrible premonition in his gut. "Sir," the officer said, looking sick. "It's the Devastator."
"Sir, they're hailing!" The communications officer said, staring at a blinking light on his console. Luke felt the officer's terror, but the man's face remained firmly calm.
"Put them through," Antilles said, compressing his mouth and looking fierce. Luke felt a surge of admiration for the man.
"Tantive IV, this is the ISD Devastator. We have tapped into information you have recieved via transmission. Shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded."
No…
"Leia, don't let them board!" Luke said frantically, feeling the Force roll. Leia glanced at him, her face white, before she strode over to the communications console.
"This is the Tantive IV," she said. "We are on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan, and you have no authority to board our ship." She released the button and turned to Captain Antilles. "Captain, set the coordinates for an out-of-the-way planet on the Outer Rim and make the jump to hyperspeed."
"Devastator to Tantive IV. I repeat, shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded."
Instead of the engines dying, Luke felt the whine increase as the little ship swooped to the left in order to line up coordinates for the nearest Outer Rim planet. A whirring sounded.
"I repeat, shut down your engines – "
The stars began to streak along the viewport, and the brilliant blue of hyperspace replaced the inky blackness of real space as the crew gave a collective sigh of relief.
When they pulled out of hyperspace some time later, Luke looked out of the viewport and saw a great red-gold planet. His eyes went wide and he moved closer, feeling the Force hinting to him. He knew that planet, although he'd never seen it from space. He knew it even though the last time he'd been there he'd been only thirteen years old and longing to leave.
Tatooine.
Luke's wide eyes were yanked away from the viewport, however, when a jolt rocked the Tantive IV, causing alarms to sound throughout the ship.
"We're under fire!" The officer at the computer readouts yelled. "Sir, I don't understand! How did they get here before us? It's the Devastator!"
"Get us out of here!" Antilles ordered. "Tolsin, ignore that hail!"
"Yes, sir!" The communications officer said smartly, and resolutely ignored the blinking hail light. The ship shook again, and the shields began to die.
"Shields at 76!" Came a voice. "Their lasers are enormous!"
"Leia!" Luke cried desperately. "Leia, get the plans out!"
"What?" Leia gasped, scrambling towards him.
"The plans to the battle station!" Luke yelled. "Get them out of here! Send them down to the surface with Artoo and Threepio!"
Leia nodded and ran for her quarters. She almost tripped over a figure just outside the door.
"Artoo!" She gasped. "Artoo, come with me!" Artoo beeped and whistled questioningly, but Leia was already hurrying down the hall and ducking into a small side passage. The Tantive IV shuddered as the Devastator caught it in a tractor beam. "Take this," Leia slid the little black disk containing the Death Star's plans into Artoo's compartment. "Down to the surface with Threepio. Hide there…I will send someone to fetch you. This is of utmost importance, Artoo. Can I count on you?"
Artoo beeped reassuringly, and Leia nodded, patted him on his dome, and glanced to the side. She pulled her hood up over her buns and hurried away. Luke glanced after her, and remained by the droid, following him closely as he fetched the golden protocol droid See-Threepio. Their banter and insults traded quickly back and forth as the little astromech droid moved towards the escape pods. Luke watched them enter the pod and saw it jettison away. Turning, he hurried to where Leia had been heading. He got there just as a spiral of blue caught his sister and she slumped to the floor.
"No!" He shouted, wishing he could hit the stormtrooper who had done it. "No, Leia!"
But Leia couldn't answer.
Moments later she stirred, to find her hands bound behind her back and a squad of stormtroopers standing around her. Gasping, she struggled upright and looked around, calming slightly when she spotted her brother's glowing presence just beside her.
"Don't worry, Leia," he was whispering. "I've got a plan." Leia took heart, firming her face and straightening her spine.
"I demand you release me at once!" She said imperiously, pulling her legs underneath her and standing up. "You have no right to treat me this way! I – "
"Take her to Lord Vader," one of the stormtroopers said, and Luke closed his eyes in dismay. He had known his father would most likely be on board the Devastator, but he had hoped…
He clenched his jaw in determination.
It was time.
He turned to his sister as she was yanked along the hallway.
"Leia, I must go," he whispered, keeping pace with her. "I must find someone to fetch the plans. Do not worry…I will make sure they are delivered safely to your father on Alderaan." He stared at his sister's eyes, noting her pleading, bewildered expression. "I can do it, Leia," he whispered. "Take care."
Just before his surroundings faded, Luke glanced in front of the squad of stormtroopers to the looming black figure beyond. Then he vanished, reappearing on Alderaan itself.
He took a deep breath to stave off exhaustion and hurried towards a little cottage about twenty feet in front of him. He let himself float through the doorway, his eyes seeking and finding the painfully familiar figure that brought to mind hot suns and burning sands – a silent, far-off guardian angel. Luke shimmered into view and went to speak and was startled at the weak, pleading sound that emerged from his mouth.
"Ben?"
The old man snapped his head up, startled.
"Luke!" He said, standing quickly. "What is wrong?" That was when Luke realized that ghosts could still shake. He felt his hands trembling and tried to quell it unsuccessfully. He blinked rapidly, staring into Ben's wise, concerned blue eyes.
"I – no," he said, sounding lost. "The – the Devastator traced the transmission to the Tantive IV. Ben – the Empire has Leia."
Ben closed his eyes to cover the emotion in them, taking a deep, steadying breath. After a pause, he spoke again, without opening his eyes.
"The Death Star plans?"
"That's why I'm here," Luke said quietly. "The Tantive IV went into hyperspace, but F – Vader evidently caught on to where we were headed. When we pulled out of hyperspeed, the Devastator was waiting. We were above Tatooine." Luke swallowed, fighting back memories. "Leia sent the plans down to the surface in Artoo, but she got caught by Fa – Vader and nobody knows where they are to retrieve them. I came to the only person who could see me. Ben, you have to get those plans."
"Yes," Ben said, eyes distant. "Yes, the plans are needed." He shook his head as if to clear it and looked at Luke. "I will retrieve the plans." He said decisively. "You must go to Leia."
"All right," Luke said quietly.
"Go," Ben said firmly, and Luke nodded and let his surroundings fade to reappear in the detention cells of the Devastator.
Leia was lying on her back; eyes closed and face white as Luke moved over to her. Exhausted, he was unable to appear to her, and so simply sat by her head and ran his hand through her hair. In his bleary state, he almost felt as if he could feel it. Swallowing back nausea, Luke simply sat and waited for the events of the future to unfold.
Obi-Wan Kenobi was not a great pilot. He was a good one, but not a great one, like Anakin had been. As it was, he piloted slowly and carefully away from the planet of Alderaan. He set familiar coordinates for Tatooine, watching beyond the shuttle's viewport as hyperspace enveloped it.
Slowly, he sat back in his seat, feeling years weigh down on him. The shuttle would be in hyperspace for several hours…he should meditate…but he was so tired…
He woke abruptly when the beeping on the console went off, indicating approach to the coordinates specification. Shaking his head, Obi-Wan reached forward towards the hyperspace lever, watching the countdown and pulling the lever when it was complete. A whirring sounded, and the brilliant blue was replaced by inky black – a ball of red-gold hovering in the light of two small suns. Obi-Wan took a deep, steadying breath, memories converging on him.
"Here, Master. Tatooine... It's small, out of the way, poor... The Trade Federation has no presence there."
"I was right," Obi-Wan breathed. "Out of the way, indeed." He closed his eyes for a moment, simply remembering. "It was one of the only things I was right about," he whispered faintly.
"You will be a Jedi…I promise."
"When will you learn, Obi-Wan?" He whispered to himself. Blinking, he rested his hands on the controls and flew the shuttle down towards the surface, unquestioned, just like it had been so many years ago.
Everything is the same, he thought, once on the surface. This planet never changes.
The suns were still scorching, the sky still brilliant, the sands blinding. The hot, dry air still made his throat feel like sandpaper. Directly in front of him was the black remains of a Tantive IV escape pod.
It had been stripped and gutted; all that remained was the black metal frame. Footprints around it had long since been erased from the sands. Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan sought the guidance of the Force. A moment later, he pulled the hood of his old, worn Jedi cloak up over his white hair and began to move eastward.
"No – " Luke sobbed. Leia's cries pounded into his skull, even with his ghostly hands pressed hard over his ears. Her frightened, angry face still burned into his retinas even though his eyelids were tightly squeezed shut. Luke hadn't known ghosts could hyperventilate, but here he was, gasping like a baby, rocking back and forth with his knees to his chest.
The only sound was the mechanical breathing of his father's respirator, the low whir of the interrogation droid, and Leia's occasional moan or sharp cry. Every once in a while Vader would demand an answer to a question, but it was generally the same endless tormenting quiet. Invisible to both of the others in the cell, only Luke could hear his own dry, gasping sobs.
It seemed like an eternity for Vader – Luke couldn't call him 'father', not right then – to finish and leave. Luke was left to crawl forward miserably and shimmer into sight. Leia blinked at him tiredly, frowning when she saw his face. Her trembling hand reached out as if to touch him, and slumped back down when she realized she couldn't. She blinked at him gently and gave him a small, sad smile before closing her eyes to sleep. Luke remained crouched by her sleeping figure for a very long time.
"The red," Owen Lars grunted to the Jawas. "Come on, then." A little red astromech droid trundled forward while the silver and blue began beeping frantically and rocking violently back and forth. The golden protocol droid behind Lars turned to look. Owen began to walk away, knowing the droids would follow him. He turned back, however, when the protocol droid called out to him.
"Master, look!"
The red astromech was smoking and sparking. Owen's face darkened.
"What're you doing?" He demanded. "Look at this!" He gestured towards the red droid in disgust.
"Master, if I might interrupt," the protocol droid said. "That droid over there is quite functional. I would know, having worked with him before."
"Oh, yeah?" Owen said with interest. "All right, then. I'll take that one." He gestured to the blue while addressing the Jawas. They chattered at him and one scampered over to the astromech and gave it a hard smack on the dome. The droid made a rude sounding beep, making Owen smile. "Come on, then," he said to the astromech droid. "You'll be working on the farm."
"Of course, Master." The protocol droid said, shuffling after Owen. "I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations, and this is R2-D2. Might I enquire your name?"
"Owen," came the reply.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Owen," Threepio said.
By now, they were in the speeder and soaring towards the homestead. Owen blinked at the words, a niggling feeling of familiarity in his mind.
Master Owen.
As Owen pulled up at the homestead, he felt that niggling feeling develop into full power, and he suddenly slammed on the brakes.
See-Threepio and Artoo-Detoo…
In dismay, Owen turned to look again at the droids, taking in the newly polished golden plates, replacing them with oil-covered silver. Seeing the familiar blue dome…
"Artoo…" Owen said, feeling frightened. "Why are you here?" The little droid went into a frantic series of bleeps and whistles, causing Threepio to start in alarm.
"What did you say?" Threepio demanded. "A mission, did you? I must apologize, Master Owen, I have no idea what he's talking about…"
"Wait!" Owen ordered. "What did he say?"
"Why, he said he's been sent by a certain Princess Leia. I have no idea who he's talking about, frankly. He says she's been captured by Imperials. We have been sent here to guard the plans of something called the Death Star, and await rescue."
"No!" Owen gasped, leaping out of the speeder. "Beru!" He shouted. "Beru, come outside!"
"What?" Beru asked worriedly, poking her head out the door. "Owen, what is it?"
"Get some clothes. We're leaving," Owen said rigidly. "Now."
Beru didn't question, but hurried into the dome to shove some spare clothing into a bag for herself and Owen. Within moments they were speeding towards Anchorhead and passed it, moving towards Mos Eisley.
Wearily, Obi-Wan moved into a Mos Eisley cantina, hoping for a cool drink. In the few years since he'd left Tatooine, he'd gladly forgotten the scorching heat and almost constant thirst. Hot, dusty, and thirsty, Obi-Wan moved to sit in a stool at the bar, hailing the barman and ordering his drink. While waiting for it, he looked idly around the darkened cantina, observing the milling movement around him. In the corner, an enormous Wookiee gave a raspy roar, receiving a snapped comment in return from the swaggering man he followed.
Obi-Wan drank deeply when his drink arrived, finishing quickly. He tossed a few credit coins on the bar when he finished and stood up and left. As he made his way down the streets of Mos Eisley in search of a speeder he could rent, he had to shake the image of the Wookiee and his human companion from his thoughts. Even if the Force demanded that he notice them, there wasn't much he could do about it until he knew why. In the meantime, he rented a speeder and made his way out of Mos Eisley to where the Force indicated he would find what he searched for.
It ended up not being droids that the Force indicated, but instead the blackened remains of a familiar homestead. Heart pounding, Obi-Wan searched through the ashes but found no bodies. Even the Force, when asked, vaguely placed the notion that nobody had died in the explosion. In relief, he closed his eyes.
He thought the droids would be in Mos Eisley, now that the Force was quiet. However, it was growing dark and his own ship was closer, so he made his way towards it, planning to sleep.
Gritting his teeth, Owen guided his wife through the teeming streets of Mos Eisley, keeping a close eye on the droids following them. They couldn't stop anywhere, he knew. Imperials would be after them now…the droids were wanted. It was only Tatooine's naturally instinctive hatred of the Empire that kept them safe now. Owen glanced at Beru. She had aged so quickly since Luke had died. She returned his look, eyes sad and frightened. He tried to smile reassuringly, but wasn't sure he succeeded.
"Don't worry," he said quietly. "We'll find somewhere." She nodded with a brave smile, and Owen glanced back to make sure the droids still followed.
You've been forgetting, Obi-Wan, he thought to himself ruefully. How could you forget the Jawas?
Before him, beside the frame of the escape pod, lay the gutted remains of his own ship. Despite being securely locked when he left, Jawas were incorrigible creatures, and not much stopped them. With a sigh, Obi-Wan moved forward to search the remains. Most of his things were still there. Jawas were only interested in technological parts, not private possessions. Consequently, only the ship's controls and engines were gone, leaving the shell, and his lonely bag of clothing. Hoisting it to his back, he stared at the ship for a moment before turning to walk back to the speeder. Looked like Mos Eisley, then.
He arrived back at the dusty, deserted town just after false dusk, as the second sun eased its way past the flat horizon. The reddish light lit Tatooine eerily, deepening the shadows. It was beggar's time.
"Credits?" A little old man whispered faintly from the shadows. "Credits, friend?" His voice was hissing and malevolent sounding, and only a faint shadow told Obi-Wan where the voice came from. Swallowing, he shook his head, knowing that if he gave to one, he'd have to give to all. Faint hisses followed him, like serpents in the dust. "Selfish…selfish…"
He emerged from the shadowy street into the red light of the second sun in relief, his footsteps hitting the dusty streets and sending little flurries around his feet and legs. He strode towards an old seedy inn, his hand fingering his bag of credit chips. There was an old brass bell on the door that rang when he opened it. A alien came over to him, a leer on its face.
"Can I help you, friend?" He asked, sneering a smile. Obi-Wan looked him in the eye.
"I want a single-person room for a human, thank you." He stressed the human part, knowing that if he didn't the innkeeper would likely give him a room meant for a Dug as his idea of a joke.
"Fifty-five," the alien replied, large orange eyes flickering slightly.
"Twenty," Obi-Wan replied, falling into Tatooine banter with ease.
"Forty-eight," came the growled reply.
"Twenty-eight."
"Forty."
"Thirty-five," Obi-Wan growled. "Or I go to Mos Espa."
"Fine," the alien smiled, stretching out a slimy hand.
"I pay when I leave," Obi-Wan sneered. While doing so, he waved his hand discreetly.
"You pay when you leave," the alien echoed dully. Nodding, Obi-Wan withdrew the mental probe.
"Now," he whispered faintly, laying a hand on the alien's bony shoulder and guiding him towards a back room. "I have quite a few funds…and I need some information."
"Yes?" The creature asked, suddenly interested.
"I'm looking for the location of a man and a woman. They're from here, of course. I'm looking for a pair of moisture farmers, middle-aged to elderly, probably nervous and tense looking. They might have a pair of droids with them…"
"Wait," the innkeeper said sharply. "Are you with the Empire?"
"Not at all, friend," Obi-Wan said easily. "Quite the opposite, in fact." He shifted, the few coins he had in his robe clinking faintly. The orange eyes gleamed.
Owen jumped up when he heard the sound of soft footsteps on the old-fashioned stairs outside their rented room. Nervously, he glanced at Beru and the pair of droids that had gotten them into this mess. Beru's eyes were frightened.
A soft knock sounded on the door.
Heart pounding, Owen fixed his face in a determined, fierce expression and slowly opened the door. His jaw gaped.
"Kenobi?" He asked, his mind going blank.
"Hello, Owen," Kenobi replied.