The morning after the parade and my subsequent nightmare, I got up and got to it. Since Aunt Beru's peaceful death, my routine hadn't deviated a minute. But even before then, I'd been set in my ways.
Wake up a few hours before dawn. Meditate. Feel the darkness in the Force. Find the fine pinpoints of light within it which existed like dew dwelling beneath the hot sands. Focus on those points. Tend the ever-fading flame of hope as Yoda and Obi-Wan had both willed me to do. Go through lightsaber forms for a few hours. Finish workout. Rinse off in a speedy shower that didn't use up my water supply for the week. Get dressed. Eat breakfast. Go out and check the vaparators and farm defenses.
The farm defenses were fine; the Tuskens had been getting a bit bolder lately, but they knew better than to mess around here. The vaparators, as usual, remained in good shape. Thanks to my instincts in the Force, I'd been able to keep these functioning well and maintain a modest income for the past fourteen years as a farmer. (Once I'd finished my training as a Jedi, there really had only been one place to go: back home.) One needed a few minor repairs, which meant I'd have to soon face Camie after all. This fact motivated me to give it a go at fixing despite knowing the futility, but as predicted it proved futile.
I was just about to give up the ghost when I spotted a speck on the horizon. No… not a speck. A speeder bike. Sleek. New. Far newer than most could afford around here, certainly far newer than my old clunker.
Instincts taking over, I crouched down, tuning into my senses. What I found wasn't danger, exactly. But it still didn't make my heart happy.
A few minutes later came the knocks.
Knock.
Knock knock.
Knock.
"Luke?" said Biggs, still with that terrible Coruscanti accent—bred into him, by now, surely.
I was tempted to just hide, but there were levels of pathetic I refused to sink to, teenage rejection or no. That much about what he had said yesterday, at least, was true. Shame at my behavior had started the moment I got home and got some space to breathe.
Then I realized I'd acted exactly like the sixteen-year-old boy I'd once been.
Drawing in a deep breath, I opened the door. "Yes?" I asked.
Biggs smiled tentatively. He didn't seem such the cold and ruthless Imperial today. More… normal. Like the friend I'd once had. And the Empire loved making laws: it should seriously be illegal for anybody to look that good in those pants, ruffle shirt, and that silly cape.
"Hi," he began.
I sighed. "Hi," I returned. Then, because it was obvious why he was here, "Do you want to come in?"
"I'd like that. Thanks."
"Your house is really… organized," Biggs ventured, looking around at the immaculate space. He sat down at the table, taking off his driving gloves. They looked expensive, enough to feed a family around here for months. I worked hard not to hold this against him.
I decided to take this as a compliment. "Thanks. I don't own much." Jedi, in fact, didn't actually own anything. It was one of the things we gave up: possessions. But saying so would mark me with this man, who despite all casual appearances today remained very dangerous to me and to those I also protected.
Biggs said, "Thanks," when I handed him the glass of blue milk. It was all I had to offer. At one time, the humility might have shamed me. It had, once, when he was my best friend and I'd been the poor moisture farmer with a single operation compared to his mother's ten.
Now, I just didn't care. I sat down with my own cup, took a few sips, and then began, "I owe you an apology."
"What?" He seemed genuinely startled.
"That was all so long ago. Ancient history. I never should've brought it up. Yesterday I was… grumpy. In a bad mood. It was compassionless of me to throw something in your face like that after how kindly you treated me."
"Compassionless? You? Hardly." Biggs chuffed. Then he shook his head. "I came here to apologize to you, Luke. I could've handled that whole situation a lot differently. I wish I had. Maybe it doesn't matter… but I am sorry."
Did he mean yesterday, or the other time? I felt myself flush abruptly, and coughed, pulling myself back together with effort. I downed the rest of my milk. "It was nothing," I replied, which sufficed for both.
"Luke…" Those hazel eyes were truly fathomless.
"Yeah, Biggs?" I gave him a sweet smile back.
"Which thing are we talking about?"
"I'm a little lost myself."
"Well, I think we should. Last night… I was thinking…"
"Oh, Force. Please, don't. It was so long ago. What does it matter?" I groaned.
"It clearly matters to you, since you brought it up." Biggs drew a deep breath. How he got his confidence, I don't know. Command, maybe. "And I should say that it still matters to me, in that, seeing you yesterday, I realized what an ass I have been. I should've come around a long time ago."
There was a time when that fact bothered me. After Biggs had pushed me away, hissing, "What was that? Don't you know my mom or Sarai could walk in any minute?" I'd half thought, crying that night, that he'd come by the next day and say sorry. Before he left for the Academy and Navy forever. But he hadn't. And that had been it for us.
I said, "Really, it was so long ago."
"I still think about it."
That… wasn't helpful. But he just didn't get it. I was a Jedi. None of this mattered anymore.
Yet I felt his determination, and so knew his will would remain absolute until I acquiesced. "What did you want to say?" I asked, resigned.
That afternoon, after finally managing to shake off Biggs, I went back to repair work on the moisture vaparator. I definitely needed a part, which meant that trip to Camie's after all. Finally, I capitulated, and headed inside. I did the housework of sweeping out the sand and dust, knowing full well it would all be restored by tomorrow. I started dinner.
While dinner cooked, I sat down and checked my messages. I did this every night, in case I ever got a Code Red from Leia or Han. Rarely did I get anything. While my sister and I communicated, we did so every two weeks or longer; though Alderaan had long been considered purged of treasonous influences—and who would dare defy the Empire now, with the asteroid fields of Chandrila, Paucris Major, and Jakku to demonstrate?—we suspected surveillance remained, whether in randomly placed bugs or spies. Maybe both. It was dangerous to send too many messages to each other.
To be honest, I didn't even know Leia that well. I got along better with Han, who I'd befriended from just about the moment he shuttled Leia here to Tatooine for the first time.
No messages tonight. Hardly surprising.
After dinner, I lay down, using several Jedi mental disciplines to quiet my thoughts. The conversation with Biggs reigned within them, and I needed to stop that somehow. He'd said he hoped maybe we could exchange communications—he was headed back to the fleet—and I'd felt the sincerity in him. But I just didn't know how to answer that. I appreciated the desire to rekindle our former friendship, but didn't know how to honor that. Everything was different than it had been back then.
He was different.
And I was different.
And the galaxy was oh so very different.
With Biggs Darklighter actively supporting the Imperial regime that used a planet-killer to enforce its Sithly will, how could I ever even pretend to be friendly with him again? I'd make myself sick doing so. So why did I feel sick at heart contemplating the lonely alternative?
For the second night in a row, nightmares plagued me. I dreamed of the discovery of the nascent rebel fleet at Paucris Major, before Leia could arrive to warn them. I dreamed of then-Grand Moff Tarkin's chilly smile as he faced down Breha and Bail Organa at their trials. I dreamed of Vader—always, Vader—that black-armored specter as he strode onto the stage, ignited his crimson lightsaber, and then lopped off the heads of the Queen and Viceroy of Alderaan right in front of their daughter's eyes. (His daughter's eyes, though thank the Force he never knew it.) I dreamed of the Death Star's destruction of Chandrila, and its subsequent christening as the "Peace Star—to bring safety, security, justice, and peace to all the Empire."
I dreamed of Biggs, pushing me away yet again after I kissed him (yet again). "What's wrong with you? Someone might see us!"
Strangest of all, I dreamed of Padmé, my niece, turned into a creature of destruction and confusion: she screamed and sobbed and yelled, and clawed at walls, nonsensical in her madness. Her chest glowed with an eerie, febrile light beneath her nightgown. Her sandy blond hair was matted in clumps. Her honey eyes flowed with tears.
The last disturbed me mostly profoundly, because an element of truth rang within it which I couldn't ascertain. Padmé was far from mad—intelligent, capable, and singularly sharp. So what could the Force have meant by that dream? What could it have meant by any of them?
Nothing, maybe. Just my own paranoid and overwrought mind.
I thought again of Yoda's words, about being the light. Nursing the flame of hope. I did my best. I really did. He had often lectured me in my five years of Jedi training that there was no such thing as trying. So I didn't.
But being hope… could be very hard indeed when none seemed forthcoming.
Which naturally led me to the shock of my life when I checked my communications the following evening. An image of my twin sister popped up.
"Luke." Even through the sepia tint of the holo, it was clear Leia was flushed. My heart began to pick up speed. Thump. Thump thump.
Then, Leia said without preamble, "There's hope. Meet me on Alderaan. We have to talk in person."
There's hope. What did that mean? I only knew one thing, a knowing resonating within every bit of my being: the dull constancy of my life was about to be changed forever.
Author's note: Alright! Last update for today. I was just feeling inspired, and decided to post it all for the moment. For those who missed it, by the way, or got confused: Leia and Han had a daughter instead of a son, their daughter being Princess Padmé Solo of Alderaan. Also, the Imperial Heir is Ray, a boy, instead of Rey, though that doesn't come up until later. Those two are the only gender-reversals in this.
Please leave a review if you liked reading, cause I'd appreciate it. Thanks.
~ Hope
