Skywalker Apartment

Coruscant

Normal timeline

Mara Jade Skywalker woke up with a start and rolled over with a groan. Her idea of a good night's sleep did not include being hurled into a weird timeline where she had to hand express breast milk every few hours, but did the Force ask her? No!

She wobbled to her feet and entered the living area where Luke was pacing with Baby Beru on his shoulder. The baby, whose little red-haired head was resting on her father's shoulder, took one look at her mother and began screaming indignantly. Mara happily reached for the baby and quickly sat down to nurse her.

A moment later, of course, Baby Shmi woke up as well, provoking another set of outraged screams. Luke quickly fetched the baby and settled her next to her sister. He ran to the kitchen to find food and drink for his wife, rushed back, and settled the blue milk and chocolate on a small table nearby.

"Thank you," Mara said gratefully, popping open the chocolate bar and taking an ecstatic bite. "I sometimes forget how lousy the food was during the war. I think during this last trip I ate about 24 ration bars."

"Yeah," Luke agreed, "food was pretty scarce at times with the Rebellion. It must have been really hard on the nursing mothers, though there weren't that many of them."

"Daddy?"

Luke turned in surprise as Biggs, their 3 year old son, wandered into the living room trailing his favorite green blanket.

"What's up, Buddy?" he asked gently, opening his arms in a welcoming fashion.

"The babies are noisy," the boy answered, curling up on his lap and leaning against his father's comforting bulk.

Mara snorted loudly at this, causing Beru to unlatch for a moment to gaze at her mother in surprise.

"Get back to work, Baby," her mother crooned gently. "I want to go back to bed."

"Yes, the babies are noisy," Luke agreed, pulling his son closer to him. "They are hungry."

"Daddy, can you read to me?"

Luke nodded and gestured with one hand; a few seconds later, Biggs's favorite book came zooming out of his bedroom and into his father's hand.

"The Wondrous Wanderings of the Woolly Bantha Cub," Luke began. "Once upon a time, there was a woolly bantha cub who ..."

Mara Jade Skywalker leaned back and smiled the slightly giddy smile of a thoroughly weary mother. How very blessed they were, in a totally exhausted way.

/

Alternate Timeline

Luke Skywalker's Apartment

Coruscant

18 months after the death of Emperor Palpatine

Luke Skywalker, still panting, opened the door of his apartment and collapsed onto a nearby chair.

He was only one of two known Jedi in the galaxy, the other being the aged, decrepit, and crabby Master Yoda. He should be able to easily overpower his twin sister Leia but no, Leia was a truly difficult opponent. In terms of sheer skill, the princess of Alderaan was somewhat deficient but she was so sneaky! She was adept at ducking and weaving, adept at yanking random objects off of the walls to distract him. She was also good at insulting him and causing him to lose focus. He had eventually prevailed in their training duel, but it had taken a truly long time. His sister, when fully trained, would be a terrifying adversary.

Luke leaned his head against the comfortable back of the krayt dragon chair which he had rescued from a trash bin in one of the higher rent sections of Coruscant. Leia had been startled and a little distressed, insisting that the New Republic could afford a chair for their favorite Jedi, but Luke liked this chair. He liked that it was a little worn, that it had history.

"Can I get you some blue milk?" a sarcastic voice inquired.

Luke's eyes flew open and he leaped to his feet as if stung by a Nabooian swamp bee, his blue lightsaber flaring to life.

"You really shouldn't let your guard down like that," the red haired woman continued, maintaining her position in the doorway between the living area and the kitchen. "You never know who might drop by."

Luke was aware that his mouth was hanging open and he hurriedly closed it.

"Mara Jade?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," the woman replied calmly, though her eyes were wary, "you want to turn that lightsaber off?"

Luke did so, though he maintained his defensive posture, "How did you get in here?"

The woman chuckled, "If you don't want a former Emperor's Hand to break into your personal quarters, maybe you shouldn't move into Palpatine's old palace. This place is riddled with hidden passageways and the like."

Luke blinked at her and then glanced around uneasily, "Yeah, that isn't great. I really didn't want to live here, but the Alliance leadership insisted."

"We guessed," Mara commented sympathetically. "It's symbolism."

"Exactly," Luke agreed, then was silent for a few heartbeats. Wait a minute.

"We?" he demanded, turning quickly as a figure, clad in Mandalorian armor, appeared in the doorway to his bedroom.

Luke did not light his saber, but his grip tightened. No man who had danced to the top of the Empire's Most Wanted list could fail to recognize the sentient lurking in his apartment. "Boba Fett? I thought ... I thought the other Jade, the one from the future timeline, killed you!"

"Other Mara did," Mara declared. "This isn't Fett."

Luke opened his mouth in question and then closed it as the individual's Force presence, previously muted, suddenly unblocked and flared into life.

Luke took a bewildered, amazed, confused, longing step forward.

"Father?" he whispered.

The armored figure removed his helmet, revealing a scarred face with an oxygen tube running down his nose, with blue eyes so much like Luke's ...

"Yes, my son," the man explained softly. "It is indeed I."

Luke felt his eyes fill with tears. When Leia had told him the truth, that Darth Vader was his father, their father, that he and Leia were twins, which was great because he had a sister, but terrible because they had been separated until they were 19 years of age – well, he had grieved and mourned and wailed and yelled at Yoda and then (when the ghost had been foolish enough to make an appearance) at Obi-Wan. But after he had progressed through the denial and rage and shame and sorrow and grief, he had felt intense yearning to meet his father. But Vader had disappeared at the same time that the Emperor was killed, though Luke, Leia, their closest friends, and High Command knew Vader was still alive out there, somewhere, because he kept sending highly sensitive, top secret, valuable information to Luke and Leia. Luke had attempted to write back but either failed or his missives were ignored, which hurt, he had to admit it, but the data from Vader was always vital in the Alliance's battle to take over the aging remnants of the Empire.

Vader took a few hesitant steps closer to his son, his weary eyes filling with tears. Luke also stepped forward and a moment later the two men were embracing. It was a truly bizarre experience since Vader was still much taller than his son, and the armor was a barrier. But Luke had dreamed of this moment his entire life, and he did not mind if a random hard corner of armor was digging into his shoulder.

After a full minute, Vader gently pushed his son back and inspected him with wonder and fierce pride, "You have grown strong in the Force, my son."

Luke gulped and coughed before managing a smile, "I should have. I've been training like a crazy person in between missions. I am a little confused here though. Isn't that Fett's armor?"

"It is," his father replied, his voice nothing like the deep bass voice of Darth Vader. "I hauled his corpse onto Executor and then adjusted it for my own use after my ... treatments."

Luke stepped back and inspected his father both with his eyes and through the Force. They had never met before but he had watched the cyborg on the Holonet many a time, and ...

"You aren't quite as insanely tall," he commented.

Vader (or was it Anakin?) chuckled at this and nodded, "I have had significant medical treatment since we killed Palpatine. My former limbs were too long, and these replacements match my height and breadth from before my massive injuries on Mustafar. I have also had some attention from the Kaminoans, so I actually have a fair number of fully working organs now."

"I am glad," his son replied simply.

"It seems likely that someone will pop in soon to chat with the Rebellion's poster boy," Mara commented, "so maybe you two can move from touching reunion to plotting?"

Luke abruptly looked nervous, "What kind of plotting?"

"Nothing to worry about, my son," Vader responded, his tone lingering on those last two words. Clearly he was pleased to say those words after so many decades alone. "Jade and I have been working together on some minor projects here and there, but we've decided it is time to kill Jabba the Hutt and free the slaves of Tatooine. I wondered ... I hope that you might be interested in joining us. But of course, if you are busy ..."

"Kill Jabba?" Luke interrupted blankly and then repeated it again, this time with a feral smile on his face, "Kill Jabba? I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Well, let's work out a plan, shall we?"

Author Note: Spoilers for the Season 2 Mandalorian finale.

...

I asked my husband to whack me gently on the head to destroy all memories of the Last Jedi because I want to remember Luke THAT WAY. He was awesome in the finale of Mandalorian. I hate what they did with Luke in the last trilogy. I am going to pretend it doesn't exist.