The dream that took Luke… was awesome!
It was his greatest fantasy come to life, he was racing with Dad. They were together, Pilot and Co-Pilot (and Dad had even let him be the Pilot), racing against Leia and Mom… well, his dream-Mom. The one his mind constructed from the few holos Artoo had and the rare anecdotes Dad shared over the years.
The planet was… Tatooine? Maybe? A great big desert with two bright suns, and a race track for their silver, shinning speeders – top of the line Imperial models. Each impeccably clean and high-tech; the sort he saw at the concept shows his dad let him attend.
He knew this race track was way nicer than the real one had been. He had begged Dad to take them to Tatooine so he could see for himself the Boonta Eve Classic. His father had nearly choked on his dinner at the suggestion. Guess what the answer had been. Ugh.
But that didn't matter now because here they were, all four of them, racing as a family. For fun, sure, but Luke wanted to win. He wanted his dad to see what he could do. They worked as the perfect team, driving and adjusting, charting and planning, to make their trip through the hurdles the most precise and speed-efficient. They were going to win, his father assured him with a smile.
He looked over at the other speeder coming up to his left on the outer curve of the track, to catch a glimpse of his mother, who stood beside Leia, guiding her. She mostly looked like a grown-up version of his sister, but she dressed like a Queen, not a tomboy. Her hair was woven in ornate braids, like they were in his favorite holo of her. He wanted to speak to her, to hear her voice. But he never got that to her close in his dreams. And he knew this was a dream… But hey, he'd take it. He never wanted to wake up from this. Even if he couldn't touch her or speak to her, she was here, with them, as she always should have been… if it weren't for the Emp…
No, he scolded himself, don't let him in here. Don't let him ruin this... Don't let him take her from you twice…
He looked at his father's warm face, blue eyes that mirrored his own, twinkling with pride, and refocused on the task at hand. His father squeezed his shoulder with his flesh hand, as if to say good job, son. Luke grinned, pushing his speeder faster through the next stomach-swooping turn.
He was proud of himself too, no longer afraid that the Emperor might somehow slip into this dream. He was in control - of the speeder, of his dream. And his family was here with him.
He couldn't ask for more.
Luke looked back at his mother and sister again, and winning suddenly didn't seem so important. He decided to let them catch up. It was the least he could do to say thanks to his sister, who was always there for him, even when he didn't want her to be. He then looked to see if his father's mood might change, if he might be disappointed to see his son let his sister win, but his father was smiling wider, beaming from ear to ear, in complete approval.
"I'm so proud of you, Luke."
"Thanks Dad," he said, and opened their bond.
Maybe it was self-indulgent, to want to feel that pride pour over him and bask in it, but he couldn't resist. After all the fighting tonight, he needed it. He opened the bond expecting the happy emotions of his dream-Dad.
But that isn't want he got.
Hatred, torment, fury – it all swelled around him, nearly choking the air from his lungs.
"Son?" dream-Dad asked cautiously, concern splashed across his face.
Time seemed to slow down and his vision became splotchy. He tried to close the bond, but he wasn't strong enough to push back against it.
Luke sputtered on the darkness, losing control of his speeder… and crashed.
"Dad!" Luke yelped, as he sat up in his bed.
He drew a deep breath against all the pain around him, focused his energy and shut the bond. Holy Force! He panted, hands still trembling from the shock of it all, before checking his nightstand for the time. 3:45? Is Dad still up?
He jumped out of bed and quickly padded out of his room. He was grateful for the closed bond again. That was way too intense to allow him to think clearly. He was lucky this time – sometimes when he felt the Force that strong, he needed his father to pull him out of it. But this time he managed on his own. Thank the Stars.
He wasn't about to risk opening it again just to find him, so he poked around the common area. First he checked the conference room, where his dad often worked late nights. Lots of data pads? Check. Dad? Nope. He then checked the kitchen, where he was almost tempted to get a midnight snack. But no. Not now. He needed to see Dad. His stomach could wait.
He went back down the hall to peak into his father's quarters for the second time in one night, as a tingle ran down his spine. What if Dad wasn't here at all? What if what he felt was the Emperor punishing him for his failures? Luke had experienced that once before. It was several years ago - His father had made them both promise to keep their bonds closed and their shields up while he went to see his master, but Luke had become nervous. He was only six or seven then, and deeply clingy to Anakin. He had meant only to peak, but it had been mid Force-lightening blow. He never forgot that pain. And worst of all, he knew it still went on and there was nothing he could do about it… Well, at least not yet.
The door wasn't locked this time, but it still felt a difficult barrier to cross without Leia's brash urgings. He managed to swallow his own fear and told himself his dad was probably fine, and he was just experiencing a nightmare. Yeah, maybe…
He softly navigated the hall, expecting water puddles left behind from earlier, but the quarters seemed fully cleaned, verging on sterile. He used the Force to sharpen his eyesight to see in the dark as he reached his father's sleeping quarters. He could make outline of the rug, the furniture, and finally his father's form, normally so tall and imposing, but right now, just peaceful, laying motionless in his bed.
Luke would have sighed with relief if his father weren't such a light sleeper. He was about to go back to bed, but something… didn't feel right. He weighed his options, and grimaced. He knew his dad would tell him not to, but he had to open their bond one more time, just to be sure he was really okay… even if it hurt. Leia would do it. He took a deep breath and reminded himself of the way out, if it became overwhelming again. Be like Leia, be a rock.
He approached his father's bedside and searched the man's face. He looked stoic and proud, even while sleeping. Luke could barely see the scar across his eye even with his Force-enhanced vision. But he could make out the occasional lip twitch. Definitely dreaming, Luke thought. But the only thing that alluded to an unpleasant dream was the uneven breaths his father took. He wouldn't have thought anything was wrong, if it hadn't been for that feeling that had woken him.
Luke took a deep breath and grounded his feet firmly. Just a peak, he told himself, as he held his hands over his father, and began to push against his Force-presence. Dang, he thought, as he pressed again sky-high black walls around his father's mind. How did he manage that kind of control, even while sleeping? These were the moments when he swore Leia was the mini-me, not him. He constantly heard how much he looked like their father – and sure, it was true. Plus they both loved flying. But other than those two things, it was Leia and Dad who were most similar. Fiercely protective, deeply centered, and a bit too serious for Luke's taste, but hey, no one's perfect.
Luke's eyes continued adjusting to the light (or lack of) and he began to see his father's scars more clearly, beyond just the big one across his eye. His father's body was littered with scars and burns of varying sizes. It was such a stark contrast to Leia and him. Whenever they got injured, even just a scratch, their father liberally applied bacta. Luke knew it was because he cared so much for them and protecting them was how he showed it. But Luke wished his father would show himself even a fraction of the compassion he showed them. He hope Leia got through to him this time.
Focus, Luke told himself, as he closed his eyes and breathed. Focus. Like a rock. Grounded, even, strong. Now let it flow…
He cracked open their Force-bond and entered the meditative world inbetween. It was like walking through an alterate reality. He was standing in a void of endless darkness, a starless sky at his back and the fortress of his father's mind before him. Those dark, towering walls were high and normally impregnable, but they were beginning to fracture from pressue. Cracks opened and erupted outward, like little volcanos of anger and ice, shooting dark beams into the air.
Luke gritted his teeth and found his feet, then pushed – with everything he had. Pushed the darkness that tried to surround him, back, back, away from the opening in the wall, where steaming pyres of resentment and betrayal bloomed. He covered his mouth with his sleeve, as if that could keep him from breathing in his father's darkness. Push, push, he focused, clearing a path and moving forward at a slow and steady pace.
Left foot, right food, push, became his rhythm, as he neared the gap, and finally passed through it, and tumbled through the void, deep into his father's dream. As he fell, he thought of Leia and his dream-Mother, safe somewhere in a ship, together, and felt his own bright center prevail. Thanks Leia, thanks Mom, he whispered inside.
He hit the earth with a thud, then scrambled quickly to his feet and dusted himself off. His eyes batted as he looked around this bizarre world. Wherever he had landed, it was midnight under a smoke-riddled sky of red. The air smelled like sulfur and it was hot.
Force, he cursed as he grabbed his shirt and flapped it a few times to vent some of the heat.
He looked around, where is this place? Is that… a river of lava?! And he says *I'm* dramatic…
River of lava… was that familiar somehow? He wondered along the river's edge, careful not to touch it. He was mostly sure that he couldn't get hurt in a dream, but this wasn't his dream. This was his Father's. And he couldn't be certain that someone as strong in the Force as his Dad couldn't recreate true danger even in dream plains.
"Dad?" he called out, looking around for any sign of life, or other sentient beings. Mainly he saw droids and cranes and other industrial looking machinery. No humans. He quickened his paced, marching along until he spotted an outpost. There, perfect!
He started running towards the bunker and the landing zone occupied by a beautiful… wait… wasn't that the same ship as… His father kept that ship in the hangar, covered by a tarp, under strict orders that no one should touch it. Of course he look had peaked but he didn't dare ask about it, despite his curiosity eating at him. Why had his father kept it for all these years without letting anyone touch or fly it, or explain its origin?
Luke leapt up on the landing strip and saw people! Yes! He wanted to celebrate, but he quickly realized he knew these people… Father! He wanted to call out, when he saw his dad standing there, facing him. Dad was speaking in an agitated voice to a woman… with brown hair… he couldn't see her face but… Mother?! She was pregnant, it had to be!
He crouched by the ship to listen. He didn't want to intrude, anyway, he knew how much his father missed his mother. Maybe after they spoke for a bit…he could say hi. Luke's heart soared at the idea. Maybe his dream-version of his mother couldn't speak to him or hug him because he hadn't known her in real life…but maybe Father's version of Mother could! He'd wait for the right time and…
"Anakin," a tearful, light voice whimpered, "You're breaking my heart… You're going down a path I can't follow…"
Wait, what?! Luke's mind spun. He watched them, his mother's back to him. He could see she was trembling, as a younger version of his father fumed and paced.
He missed a few of the words, before hearing his father shout, "Liar!"
"No!" his mother yelped, backing up, as his father started to approach the ship.
Had he been found? Maybe he was the one in trouble? Though he'd never seen his father look at him like that…
"You're with him! You brought him here to kill me!" Father shouted, and then raised his gloved hand at her.
Something was wrong. Nothing happened. His father's face was a mess of emotions, twitching, trembling, crying…
"I can't… Please make it stop… I can't…" his voice broke. Mother didn't reply, she remained frozen, as if the dream had paused.
"You must," another said. It was his father's voice, but it didn't come from…
Luke's eyes widened, as his fingers gripped his perch by the ship, as if that could hold him into his spot. He was seeing double. Another version of his father came on the scene. He approached the teary version and smirked. Luke then saw the Sith-yellow eyes, glowing like trapped molten amber, on the second man's face. He suppressed a gasp as the muscles in his body clenched.
"You know as well as I do you deserve this. A preview of your past and future…" His Sith-dad grinned at the younger version of himself. He walked a predatory circle around the other as he crooned, "Stay alive, Anakin, as long as you can. Because as soon as you die, this is the moment in which you shall dwell for all eternity. Now, do it again!"