Friends of Old

He awoke sometime during the day. He couldn't tell whether it was already early afternoon or if most of the morning was gone. He didn't care anymore. What was the point of doing anything when he knew Owen would keep holding him back? His friends were gone—most had joined the Academy, others had found their ways off planet running odd jobs. Luke, as always, was left behind.

He sighed once more as he shifted his legs and rolled over to lie down on his stomach. He threw his sheet over him, hoping that they wouldn't notice him. He needed to leave this planet. More importantly, he needed a life.

He found himself remembering something about the past: how he asked Owen and Beru about his parents. After all, Owen was his father's stepbrother, right? The old man had shifted uncomfortably and said some things about his father.

His head rose as something occurred to him. Why didn't they have something from his father? A keepsake? A holovid? Anything. These people had been holding him back for far longer than he had expected. And—it now seemed to Luke—have been keeping far too many secrets from him.

He found his anger rising as he continued to find that ever since the beginning they had been holding him back. They had lied to him and they had been too secretive. If they had loved him, why didn't they tell him what he wanted to know? Would it be so bad? He rose as he felt the muscles in his arm tense and knew that he wanted to hurt something—no, someone.

He wanted to make Owen suffer for all the times the old man held him back. He wanted to make Owen suffer, beg and cry to Luke, pleading with him not to go. Luke was a man and no one should change his mind. No, he wouldn't help the old man today, not for anything. He rose and began to walk across his dark, messy room. He tapped a key on the round obelisk-like console in the center of the room to reveal fresh light.

He yawned and scratched his chin, where he would have had facial hair. For some reason he had been too clean-shaven for a while. He wondered if Owen had somehow managed to hold that back too. He chuckled bitterly at the thought of the old man using a whip and barking orders at a group of helpless hair strands. Somehow it seemed fitting of the old man.

Sighing, Luke tapped the console again—hoping to hear important news—as he made his way to the refresher.

The console played news from the Holonet, mentioning vaguely about some battle between the Rebellion and the Empire. It continued to play messages; most of them useless get rich quick schemes, until it came across something that caused Luke to struggle not to fall in the shower.

A blue-hued image of a young man with black hair and a black mustache appeared. He wore a trim outfit, highlighted by his silver cape draped across one of his broad shoulders. He stood tall and proud, smiling and eager. It was Luke's childhood friend—Biggs Darklighter.

"Hello Luke," the message began as Luke fumbled to race out of the refresher. "I've taken some shore leave and I've come home for a while. I've been looking forward to seeing you." The figure chuckled as he said, "it's been a long time old friend. I've got something important to tell you and I know you're the only one I can trust. You've been that way for a long time. Reliable and trustworthy." Biggs had paused for a moment longer and sighed. "Which is why I am hoping you'll be able to make your way to Anchorhead for later this afternoon. At about 1430 standard. Anyway, I'll tell you more when I see you, take care Luke." With that, the image shuddered away as Luke was left standing there, a hand wrapped over a towel that covered his lower body.

Biggs is here! He thought. Great, maybe he also knows that I am going to join the—, he paused. Academy, he thought glumly. He had forgotten that the old man had forbade him not to go gallivanting across the stars.

Owen doesn't run me, he thought defiantly. I'll go see Biggs and then it will be like old times—us against the Galaxy. He returned to the refresher to get dressed and to get to Toshe Station in time—he had woken up without much time to spare. But he could handle it, after all, he'd find out as much as he could about the Academy and he'd become one of the greatest pilots—even greater than the vaunted and much feared Darth Vader and the 181st.

Luke ran to his speeder, the trusty and reliable SoroSuub X-34 landspeeder, and without a moment's hesitation gunned the triple thrusters on the long, rustic coloured vehicle as he strapped himself in. The repulsors had naturally kept it from the ground, as the speeder took off, dust trailing behind.

"Luke!" Owen called out. "Luke! Where is that boy going?" He turned to see Beru chuckling as she answered for Luke.

"He's gone out with his friends. I think Biggs has come back from the Academy."

"Blast," the old man muttered.

"He's getting older, Owen. He has too much of his father in him to stay in one place for too long," she reasoned.

"That's what I am afraid of," he said sadly as he remembered the first time he met a troubled Anakin Skywalker. He remembered the first time he saw Obi-Wan Kenobi carrying little Luke who was fast asleep in his arms. He remembered how the Empire had wiped out the Jedi and that Anakin had died as a result. He didn't want Luke becoming a target for the Empire—he didn't want to see the closest thing to his own son become a twisted and perverted freak of nature at the hands of the Empire. And that included watching Luke join the Academy.

He would hold on to Luke for as long as he could, but he knew that it was soon coming to an end. The boy was restless and Owen could only do so much. Maybe it would have been better if Obi-wan looked after the boy. No, he thought. Luke would have been like the damned Jedi, thrusting himself into the most dangerous situations. It is better he stayed with us, he decided. He would have gone off on some damned adventure never to return.

He remembered one instance when Obi-wan had come to Luke, only to leave as Owen chased him out with a blaster. He didn't want the Jedi Master—regardless of what he was back then—interfering with the boy's life.

He then realized that his eyes had been staring off into memories of old and he looked up to see a smiling Beru.

"You should tell him how you feel, Owen," she answered, almost as if she had read his mind.

He smiled and kissed her affectionately on her cheek. She had always been the voice of reason for him. Even when he had become rigid so he could protect Luke. He walked off, claiming that he needed to take a look at the moisture vaporators, as he found himself thinking, she knows me better than I know myself.

He reached the bustling port city in time as he was greeted by several of his friends. He was dressed in his black boots covered over by his brown breeches and black shirt, covered by his worn green-yellow ribbed jacket. He jumped out of his speeder and saw a familiar and much welcomed sight: a tall, lean figure with a silver cape draped over one shoulder.

"Luke!" He exclaimed as he rushed over and gave his friend a warm hug.

"Biggs, how are you?" Luke replied, as his smile was broad and genuine. It had indeed been far too long since they had last seen each other.

"I'm all right, the Academy has been great. I've met quite a bit of people, actually," Biggs started, looking over Luke's shoulder and cocked his head towards a cantina—eager to find an empty booth.

"Really? I can't wait to join you at the Academy," Luke replied, as sudden memories came rushing back to him. Owen didn't want Luke going this season, despite his high scores in the testing. He gritted his teeth and felt his fingers curl into a fist and tense. His eyes met his old time friend and his anger quickly subsided. "I—uh—well, it seems that I can't go this season."

Biggs nodded understandably. He remembered how Owen had been furious and adamant that Luke not attend the Academy. In fact, there had been an occasion when Biggs had been there to witness an argument. "Luke, do what you can to get off this rock. I know you will face up to your responsibility and you'll come through. You're good like that," he said reassuringly.

Luke smiled and nodded his head. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He knew that Biggs would wait for him—after all, they had been through it all. The Sand people, fighting off a few disgruntled—and drunk—spacers, and whatever else came their way. It was as it always should be: Luke and Biggs against the Galaxy.

After a moment, both men found their way inside the hazy, smoke covered cantina, as the local Bith jizz band played tunes that seemed off-key yet somehow enjoyable and melodic.

Thoughts of dancing Twi'lek women and other tantalizing patrons filled the farm boy's mind. Luke smiled and looked at his companion as they sat down and said, "you're buying."

"I'm a local hero, you know," Biggs replied teasingly. "You should be the one who is buying."

"Well, you know how tough life is for us farmers," he quipped, chuckling at his friend. He nodded to one of the waitresses and ordered two tumblers of Cestian Nectar. After a few more moments of reminiscing, both men received their drinks and that was when Luke finally decided to get to what Biggs had stated earlier in his message. "So," he began, "what was it you wanted to tell me?"

Biggs sighed and took a sip from his tumbler, leaving the fragrant liquid to sit in his mouth until he swallowed it. He looked at the tumbler and looked at Luke. "Well," he began, "I'm not quite sure how to say this, so I'll come out and just spill it." He looked around to make sure no one was listening and then he leaned in closer to the table and lowered his voice. "Luke, I'm thinking about leaving the Academy and joining the Alliance."

"What? Why?" This had certainly surprised young Skywalker. They had been dreaming of joining the Imperial Navy for countless years now—only to hear this. But he had no doubt that Biggs had some damned good reasons.

"Well," he began, "I told you how I met some people."

Luke nodded, waiting for him to go on.

"And, they showed me some things. They told me a lot about the Rebellion and I've seen firsthand at what the Empire does."

"Such as?" He asked poignantly.

"Well, you know how they had those news reports on the Holonet about how the Alliance was responsible for that bombing in the Imperial Square on Coruscant?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I stumbled onto some information and found out that--," he looked around and in an even lower tone he said, "it was really the Empire. They had an agent plant an explosive that killed all those people—including that Senator's wife and kids."

Luke was astonished. "Senator Bel Iblis? Wow, but I mean—that's—that's got to be a lie. Come on, why would the Empire do that to their own citizens?"

"Luke, it was all for propaganda. Don't you get it? The Empire won't hesitate to eliminate you if they think it will be beneficial for them in the end."

"I get it, believe me I do," Luke started, "but what about when the Rebellion assaulted that station on Corellia?"

"Well, I suppose so."

"A lot of innocent civilians lost their lives," Luke replied flatly. He took a sip of his nectar and set the tumbler down before he spoke again. "Either way, there is a war going on. We picked our side, Biggs. Look, the Empire has to do what is necessary and sometimes that means bombing their own soldiers—but that was expected to happen. I mean, how often is it that you'll hear about the Rebellion bombing their own troops to eliminate a garrison? Never. And why? Propaganda. It's friendly fire, Biggs, and those friends of yours are trying to sway your belief."

"Maybe," Biggs said weakly.

"Look, I'll tell you what," Luke said, knowing his friend had come this way to tell him something important, only to be deflated. "Hang in there, I'll be joining you soon."

"Luke, you're not going get off this rock—at least not now."

"Actually, I'm working it out with uncle Owen. I'll be joining the Academy soon."

"Like 3 or 4 more seasons, Luke?" Now it was his turn to deflate his friend just a bit. "Face it, Owen won't let you go."

Luke nodded and took another sip before he smiled wryly. "Just you leave that to me."

"Right," Biggs replied sarcastically.

"Look, just humour me ok? Hang in there—the Empire is bound to do harsh things, but not before calculating the risks. The same thing goes with the Alliance. I'm with you until the end, Biggs. Just like old times. I'll be joining the Academy soon and we'll find a way to end this war and gain some fame too."

Biggs sighed and looked at his friend. He knew Luke wasn't trying to placate him. He knew Luke better than that. Luke was sincere and often had to be the voice of reason for him—just as he was for Luke on other occasions. "All right," he replied. "But I'm telling you, that you're going to see things that you're not going to like."

"Hey, I think you and I have gone through some pretty tough situations. They'll be no different."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." The warm friendly smile that was Biggs had returned. "Yeah. It will be just like old times."

They both lifted their tumblers and at the same time, they said, "just like old times." They downed what remained in their cups.

After Biggs ordered the next round, Luke could only smile. "Glory to the Empire," he said before they drank again.