A/N Luke gets his 6-2Aug2 hunting rifle as a gift from his uncle. Turns out, he's pretty much a crack shot no matter what age he is.
11BBY10013 - -
The next video began to play.
This time, the camera view was outside of the homestead and there were endless dunes and waves of sand as far as the eye could see. The view was towards the horizon, where the twin suns of Tatooine were set lower in the sky, suggesting to the viewer that it was early in the evening.
"Alright, Luke," Owen Lars spoke, his voice indicating that he was the one holding the camera once again. The view shifted, away from the galaxy's most boring landscape, and focused instead on a table that had been set up outside, with several different blasters laid out carefully on top. And standing beside the table, with an eager expression on his young face, was Luke.
For a moment, it was like looking into a vision of the past. The clear, high resolution image of his eight year old son was nearly identical to that of himself at the same age. Luke's hair was blonde – sun-bleached and long, the ends easily reaching the nape of his neck. Vader knew, of course, that the Lars had not been wealthy but his clothes, the traditional style of Tatooine natives, were loose and white and a far step above the coarse material Anakin had worn as a slave.
He looked healthy. His face was full, his blue eyes were bright and excited, and his skin wasn't sunken or sallow or anything else in between. All things considered, it was more than he, as a parent, could have hoped for.
"Before we start, tell me what the four rules of blaster safety are."
"Finger stays off the trigger!" The child fired off immediately, almost bouncing as he tried to contain his eagerness to begin.
"Until when?" Owen prompted patiently.
Luke paused, his brow scrunching as he thought. "Until you can see your target and after… after you've decided to shoot."
"High five, bud." The camera view shifted to the side as Owen stepped forward and Luke presumably, and enthusiastically jumped to give him a high five.
"Alright – " The camera straightened once again and focused on Luke, who was looking beyond pleased with himself and the praise that he'd been given. "What are the other rules?"
Luke looked upwards, biting his lip before he spoke again, slowly as he pulled previously learned knowledge to the forefront of his mind. "You hafta act like the blaster is always ready to fire – cause, cause then you won't be an idiot and shoot yourself in the foot on accident."
"That's right." Owen agreed solemnly. "You don't have to be afraid of a blaster because it can't go off unless you pull the trigger first, but you always treat it like its charged and ready to fire. Never ever treat it like a toy – that's what idiots do and it's how you or someone else gets hurt. And no one in this household is an idiot, right?"
The child shook his head in agreement. "Nope!" Luke said quickly, and for some inexplicable reason, Vader felt himself smile at how innocent and earnest Luke was. He was no less perfect than he had been in the first video. "I'm not an idiot, Uncle Owen! I got an 'E' on my project in class yesterday!"
"I heard about that from your aunt and I'm very proud of you." Though he couldn't see his step-brothers expression, Vader could tell by his tone of voice that he genuinely meant it. But neither did he seem to be too inclined to let Luke get distracted by what might have been a long-winded story and he quickly redirected Luke's attention to what they were doing. "You can tell me all about it later but let's stay focused on this for now. You got two more."
A small, hidden, long-dead part of him quietly mourned the lost opportunity to hear what his eight-year old sons project had been about. No matter what the subject had been, even if it had been the life-cycle of an insect, Vader would have listened with rapt attention to the whole thing and would have loved every second of it.
"Ummm," Luke glanced at the blasters on the table, obviously itching to use one, and then glanced beyond the table, where there were targets set up for them to shoot at. Eyes widening as he remembered, Luke turned back to his guardian. "Oh! You hafta always know what is behind your target – that way you don't hurt someone you don't mean to on accident. 'Cause once you fire the blaster, you're res-pon-si-ble for whatever it hits no matter what."
"Good. And what's the last one?"
Luke looked down at his hands, counting off on his fingers, quietly reciting the previous steps. He looked up after a moment and his expression grew a little more solemn. "Never ever point a blaster at someone you don't mean to kill."
"Never, ever." Owen agreed quietly. "A blaster is just a tool, Luke. We don't keep weapons with the hope that one day we have to use them on someone else. Taking a life, even if necessary, isn't something we want to do. But we live on a dangerous planet and in a dangerous galaxy and the choices and actions of other people might force your hand one day. You have every right to protect and defend yourself, Luke. That's why we have weapons and that's why we'll fight to keep them." There was a moment of hesitation before Owen continued. "Do you know why we're practicing using these?"
Luke nodded, his countenance dimming slightly. He seemed ashamed or perhaps embarrassed by something. "Because of what happened with Jabba's men." He said quietly.
There was a sigh and Owen lowered the camera to his side and the view was sand and hints of Tatooine robes once more. From what Vader could gather, Owen moved forward and knelt down in front of Luke.
"Yeah." Owen agreed. "Because of what happened with Jabba. You could have been killed or much worse, Luke. I know your intentions were good but you need to be careful. People like Jabba and those who hurt you don't care that you're a kid. They just take what they want. I don't say that to try and scare you. A lot of people are good people – I think most people are good, in fact. But the ones that aren't… we just have to be smart and be ready to act. That's why we're learning how to shoot. Okay?"
There was a sniff and then a quiet sounding, "Yeah."
Vader had sat up and forward, leaning over the datapad in his lap and glaring at the screen as if the answers to his questions would appear simply because he wanted them to.
What in the hell had happened with Jabba the Hutt? Why and how had Luke been involved? The Great Chott salt flat wasn't anywhere near that worm's palace. Unless one of his guardians had left him alone in town for some asinine reason, Luke never should have even had the opportunity to be near those kinds of thugs. But as much as he hated to offer them any kind of goodwill, Vader thought the likelihood of the Lars' leaving Luke unsupervised like that to be unlikely. If nothing else, they had clearly cared for him. But then, what had happened to prompt this kind of action? Vader didn't know and he was furious that he didn't know – the Luke presented in this video was only eight.
Eight.
Vader himself had been only nine when he'd left Tatooine. He was perfectly and intimately aware how a slaver could put a child of that age to use. Not to mention the kind of people who would be interested in - Vader shook his head, unclenching his fist to make sure that he didn't crack the datapad. He didn't want to finish that thought. Couldn't bring himself to imagine his son being put in that kind of situation. That Luke had been anywhere near Jabba or his men at such a vulnerable age was bad enough.
He was saved from thinking of all the gruesome ways he'd murder Jabba the next time he saw that massive piece of bantha shit when Owen spoke once again and the annoying static of the camera being moved about came through the speaker of his datapad. "Alright. Don't be sad – we've had this talk already and we're just going to learn and move on from it. You ready to hit some targets now?"
Luke's eyes were a little red but he smiled, eyes brightening once again, and nodded determinedly. "Yup!"
"Alright. Now I set up a some targets about fifty yards out that way –" Owen's hand appeared in front of the camera as he pointed roughly where the targets were standing. They looked staggered, some of them placed farther out then others. "And we have about fifty shots for both the pistols and for the rifles."
Luke turned to the table and tilted his head before spinning back to his uncle. "I thought you only had one rifle, Uncle Owen. How come there's two?"
There was definitely some amusement in Owen's voice now. "I do have a rifle. But that one – yup, that one right there… that's for you. I picked it up earlier today."
Luke's eyes grew huge. "It's mine?" He squeaked, a stunned expression on his face. One hand hovered over the stock as if he were too afraid to touch it.
"Sure is, kiddo. I don't want you using it unless I'm around to supervise for now, but it's yours and I expect you to take good care of it."
"I will! I promise I will, thank you thank you thank you!" Luke bounded forward and barreled into Owen, giving him a massive hug. But just as quickly, he leapt back to the table with the weapons, ready to actually use them.
Owen laughed.
"You remember what I taught you?"
Luke nodded and after putting on some protective eyewear, picked up the rifle with a grin, admiring it openly. He held the weapon with one hand by the forestock and pointed the muzzle down towards the sand, drawing the bolt handle back with enough competency to demonstrate that handling a rifle was not entirely unfamiliar to him. He checked the chamber, being sure that it was empty before loading it with ammunition. He fumbled once or twice with getting the rounds in but it was quickly cocked and loaded. Luke then stepped to the side of the table, tucking the butt of the stock into his shoulder and raising the muzzle in the direction of the targets.
"Take a deep breath. Fix your stance." Owen coached.
Luke glanced down at his feet and adjusted into what resembled a more of a squared stance, with his feet about shoulder width apart and his right foot staggered about six inches behind his left. Vader felt the stirring of approval inside of him - this particular stance would help Luke track moving targets with greater efficiency and it would also allow him to maintain his balance better by reducing the effects of the rifles recoil.
"Like that?" Luke doubled checked.
"Just like that."
With his stance corrected and his hands in the correct position, Luke released a slow breath and pressed his cheek into the side of the stock, sighting his target.
After only a second or two of hesitation, Luke pulled the trigger, firing the rifle. He jerked backwards just a little, stepping sideways. After readjusting both his grip and his stance, Luke pumped the bolt handle quickly, releasing the used round and loading the next into the chamber before firing again - and again, and again, shooting six shots total in about twenty-fives seconds.
Once the chamber was empty, Luke stepped out of his stance and lowered his weapon, turning back to Owen with the biggest smile on his face.
"How was that Uncle Owen?" He asked eagerly, eyes dancing with the thrill.
"You're definitely improving, kiddo!" Owen laughed. "Do you want to shoot another clip or do you want to check the target first and we can see how accurate you were?"
"Let's do that!" Luke agreed almost instantly, carefully putting the rifle back down on the table, leaving the chamber open. "Then you can shoot with me!" Before Owen could agree, Luke took off, darting towards the targets with all the energy of youth.
Owen followed behind at a slightly slower pace.
"Alright, Huff - " He spoke to the camera now with a slightly quieter voice. "I told you the other day that my nephew is a damn good shot - at his age, he's the best I've ever seen. You wanted proof?"
The targets were much closer now and the camera began to zoom in towards one that Luke was inspecting. Vader tilted his head, trying to see over Luke's form despite the fact that it was impossible.
"How'd you do, Luke?" Owen called out and Luke jumped out of the way, looking as smug as an eight year old could get, practically beaming with pleasure.
"Look and see! I hit the bullseye!" Luke jumped out of the way for the camera.
When Owen spoke again, he was definitely gloating. "Here's your proof, Huff. Eight years old, two weeks into rifle training, bore-sighting at the 75 yard mark."
The target itself was a typical round one, with smaller and smaller circles each inside of each other leading to a bullseye in the middle. One round had gone through the second smallest circle, another two on the outside of the bullseye, and the last three rounds had hit the center with almost perfect accuracy.
When the video ended a moment later, Vader could only think, with no small amount of pride, that it was no wonder at all that this child grew up to fire that impossible shot that destroyed the Death Star.
Aaaaand, boom. Second chapter completed and with any luck, it came out okay. :)
Luke had an encounter with Jabba's men when he was eight. Obi-Wan saved him and to my understanding, just put him back to bed without telling anyone. But I like to think his guardians were made aware of what happened.
I love guns. I own several and I think they're a lot of fun - but because I don't know if blaster rifles work differently from typical rifles in our non-galactic world, I just wrote the mechanics of using one as if they are the same. Apologies for pulling Star Wars technological advancements back a few millennia.
Huff is in reference to Biggs' father, Huff Darklighter. Men like to brag about what they're proud of and Owen is no different in this regard. Of course he mentions to one of his buddies that his nephew is a crack shot and tapes it for proof. He doesn't have any idea that Luke is unknowingly tapping into the Force the same way Anakin did around the same age and that it gives him an edge.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and keep an eye out for the final chapter sometime in the next few weeks! :D