Luke had no idea what was that strange feeling that suddenly surged through him, when he was standing in front of the group of quickly muttering jawas, observing several droids presented by them. He was supposed to buy from these little dessert wanderers a new droid for helping him and his uncle and aunt on their moisture farm, but for some reason he couldn't explain, his mind kept drifting away, like something was distracting it from his task.
Whenewer he atempted to pay closer attention to the little mechanical creatures to be able to decide which one of them would suit him and his family the best, he found himself not being able to really focus on these droids, absentmindly staring somewhere behind them, towards the large sandcrawler which door was opened, revealing the gapping blackness which suddenly gave Luke a chilling impression of dark abyss full of pain and burning embers, yet keeping drawing him like a gravity of the black hole, pulling him into it's depths, making him want to delve inside, whispering him that there is something... something important hor him to find out.
Luke had no idea what all those feelings meant, he couldn't explain them, but at the same time, he wasn't able to just ignore them eighter, even at the mere thought of brushing it away he felt the chilling grip of panic squeezing his heart and the alarming bell ringing in his head, the wordless, soundless voice urging him to listen, warning him that by walking away, he would do the biggest mistake in his life.
So Luke stopped to pay attention to droids at all, walking few steps closer towards the jawas's sandcrawler. When he was almost at the entrance he saw it. The large, humanoid figure, laying on the metalic, sand-covered floor of the vehicle, the remains of aparently badly damaged droid made from black metal, unlike anything Luke have ever seen before. Luke asumed the jawas probably found it somewhere in the desert, abandoned and forgotten like many broken things usualy are.
When he set his eyes on the motionless figure, his heart started beating faster and the these feelings he kept getting ever since he came here only intensified and for the brief moment, Luke felt the strange mix of heat and cold, pain and longing, sadness and joy and he had no idea what any of that meant. Why? Why would he feel this way about this unknown damaged droid?
He was brought back from his thoughts when several jawas approached him, trying to lead him away, back to the other droids from which he was supposed to chose one, maybe two, which he would buy for his family and their farm. But Luke had already made his decision.
Shaking his head, he gestured towards the damaged black droid, demanding him instead. The jawas tried to argue with him, tried to make Luke change his mind, to convince him to chose another, but he was not going to back down. And when the little creatures kept being stubborn and refusing, he felt something icy and furious and almost desperate bubbling deep inside him, lashing out with fierceness of a Krayt dragon, and in the end, he was even not sure what happened, what exactly he said and did, only that at one point, the jawas were the ones backing down, giving into his request and there was something almost frightened about them, from the way they behaved... They seemed... Scared...
The strange droid was heavy, heavier than any Luke interacted with before, and dragging him towards his speeder and then, back at home, into his room, was exhausting, but it didn't matter at all. When Luke returned, his aunt and uncle weren't at home, probably eighter checking on some of vaporators or having to leave in some emergency. The part of him felt relieved, as he didn't have to waste the time (for some odd reason, kept feeling the strage sense of urgency, like he was running out of time) by explaining and excusing himself or his decision, so he could immidiately start to work on fixing of whatever damage the foreign droid recieved.
He had no idea if he will even be able to, he was always good with technogy and tinkering, but this was something new and completly in unfamiliar. He never encountered a droid like this one. But for some reason, even the sligbtest thought a out him failing with healing... fixing... repairing... this broken creature, filled him with anxiety and chilling dread he couldn't explain. It haven't make sense, but he couldn't shake it away anyways. So, leaning towards the large figure settled in front of him, Luke nervously started to checking the...body, noting all damaged parts, including the large box full of buttons and control on the chest, which aparently was some sort of control panel. Carefuly, Luke removed the upper part trying to determined it's state, it obviously was damaged, but he thought he should be able to repair it. He hoped so... He had to check the other damage too, so he carefuly removed the leather gloves, not being much surprised by the sight of broken wires and metals, the limbs had to be very damaged too. But fixing them should not be that difficult, he thought, definitely easier then the chest panel. Luke decided to start with that. Once he was done with fixing the limb, Luke carefuly removed other large, black plate...and gasped, dropping the thing on the ground with dull ringing as it fell onto the sandy stone floor of his small room.
There, under the dark metal, where expected only wires and machinery, was skin and flesh. Sickly pale, scarred, with something which mostly resembled the pieces of crispy, dark cloth melted into the raw flesh and not being removed for years. Luke's fingers tentatively touched it, feeling it's rough scars and fraigle surface. His heart was beating even faster as he stared into the unseeing, red tinged lenses on the dark, metalic face.
"You... You are a person..." Luke murmured quietly.
It took him a few more moments to snap out of his shock by the sudden revelation and move his hands again. His heart was racing. His fingers slightly trembling. This was no droid. This was a human being. A... cyborg... At last, Luke managed to calm himself enough to continue, but he was no longer sure if it was even do something for him. He could repair droids, not living people. He was no healer. Maybe, Luke should take him elsewhere, to someone who could. He had no idea who. Perhaps... He heard about that crazy, old hermit living somewhere in the Dune sea, perhaps he could try to find him, maybe he somehow could help. But then, Luke immidiately shook his head, dismissing the thought, like something was screaming at him no, it's a very wrong idea. Which probably was. It was late and the desert was a dangerous place. And by the time he would managed to find this hermit, it would probably be too late, this man needed help right now.
But how can he be so sure that it isn't too late already? Luke had no idea how long this person, this man, was laying in the bowels of jawas's sandcrawler, broken and unresponsive. How long he had been there, left abandoned and helpless, surrouned by people who didn't even know he was a living being? How can he know if the... the man is even still alive?
It might be already over. But something in Luke was vehenently refusing the thought. Luke couldn't explain it, but he felt the strong sense of connection towards this person. It was that same strange, strong feeling which brought him to this person at first, now whispering into his heart, his very soul that there is still hope. That despite the odds, he is not gone, not yet. And that Luke is the one who can help him now. Even if it may be just a hollow wish.
Deciding to follow these feelings, rooted somewhere deep in his soul, Luke got to work, gently and carefuly removing one after other the parts of the black armor, inspecting them as well as what played beneath, trying to fix what was broken, dedicating his mind and heart to only one goal, to save the stranger's life. The longer time passed, the more he discovered, the more unsettled he was. Luke found out already that the man was actually a cyborg, and he was able to tell that this black armor was some sort of life support. If he will be able to fix it, it should be enough. He had to believe it. He was holding on the thought with desperate hope. But the longer Luke worked, the more he uncovered, the more horrified he felt.
He could now clearly see that the man's medical condition was beyond horrible. He found out that all four of his limbs were mechanical, which could only mean that he had to lose his limbs, most probably due to some injury, and he could only imagine what sort of things had to happen to leading to this. Every part of his pale skin which was revealed was covered with unhealed scars and pieces of burned black cloth. The body inside of that metalic...armor... suit...whatever... was so ruined. Luke couldn't imagine how the man could even keep himself alive without the life support machinery, and he imagined that even with it, he had to still feel the immense pain and discomfort. Maybe it was just him imagining things, but at these moments, he would swear he felt the echoes of burning itching crawling over his own skin, and that the air in the room thickened, making him difficult to breathing.
"What happened to you?" Luke kept himself asking, and the part of him thought that maybe it would be more mercifu for the cyborg if he wouldn't wake up at all. But at the same time, the thought of the man dying, of his presence being gone from this world, filled Luke with crushing, overhelning sadness and despair and denial, the sense of the chilling void threatening to consume him whole if he will not save the cyborg. The boy felt that this was someone who was a part of him the way he couldn't understand, someonevhe shouldn't, couldn't lose.
Taking hew deep breaths, Luke brought his hands back towards damaged, motionless body in front of him, returning to his work. Trying to fix whatever he could. Begging the unresponsive, still presence to not giving up on life.
But every passing moment, every new discovery about this black, metalic suit keeping the cyborg alive, made Luke feel more and more sick. He could see how some parts of it were practicaly engraved into what remained of the damaged body, and he even could see how on various places there were needles on the inside part of it, connecting the metal and flesh by prickling the scared skin. Luke was no longer sure if the suit was more a life saving thing or a torture device. Probably both.
Luke was determined to atempt to easing at least some of the pain the suit and the má hinery had to cause the man. He was revorking the attachment of the prosthetics limbs, recalibrated some of the machinery inside of his body. He couldn't do much more right now and with the resources he had, and he knew it will no way be enough to ease the pain, but it should, theoreticaly at least lessen it. Luke hoped that perhaps later, he could be able to do more...
As Luke kept working, something caught his attention. A small device halfly burried in the skin and flesh. His hands worked quickly and as gently as he was able to, and only after removing it, Luke clenched his fingers hard around the device so hard it hurt his palm, crushing it in his hand, then dropping and stomping onto it hard, greakingvit into small pieces. He knew what that was, and it made him even more sick, and furious.
Tatooine was the harsh, unforgiving place where slavery was still bloomed, and while Luke himself was born free, there were many others who didn't have the same luck, and Luke had seen and heard enough to recognize the small device as the slave chip.
"So you are a slave..." he whispered, the new wave of sadness and icy rage flooded his mind together with the other, horrific thought he had to foice out despite the man not being able to response.
"Was it your... Your master... The one who did this to you?"
The thought made him tremble with hury and horror, because Luke knew very wel how cruel the universe could be.
Luke himself may be lucky that he haven't have to experience the various cruelties of slavery on himself, but, he heard many stories of how the slaves were often treated, had talked with some of them, withessed what their masters did to them, and so the thought was creeping into his heart and mind. Was it his master who damaged the cyborg like this, and then throw him away, leaving him for death? Was it his master who caused the injuries which made him like this in the first place?
Luke was choking with desperate fury burning inside his chest, the liquid fire directed at nameless, faceless person who hurt and enslaved this man who he didn't know, didn't spoke a word with but for some reason felt like some integral, important part of his life even if he couldn't tell why. And while Luke couldn't undo anything what happened to him, he could at least ensure that the cyborg was no longer branded a slave by this or similar devices, recognizing and removing it all and crushing it viciously under his feet.
His hands were trembling when he eventualy stopped with his ministrations, tired and sore from the hours of work and that chaotic, so strong whirlwind of emotions tugging heavily at his heart, his mind, his soul. He had no idea how much time already passed, or if uncle Owen and aunt Beru already returned. He felt exhausted, drained to the point of being almost numb, most of his energy now gone. At some ocations, he already spent a large amount of time with tinkering, be it the vaporators or his speeder or something else, and he never felt like this aftermath. Like he was running across the Dune Sea during the whole day without resting.
Not having enough strength left to even stand and move towards his bed, Luke drifted asleep just like that, leaning against the black figure, with his head resting on the man's large, metal covered shoulder. His dreams today were chaotic and dark, full of haunting images and echoes of unfamiliar, emotions, of pain and suffering, of fire and darkness, of guilt and fear and desperate yearing...
Luke somehow felt it when the cyborg started to climbing up back into consciousness, the heaviness of the other's presence bringing his own back to awareness too, waking him up into the sounds of rythmical, hissing breathing filling his room now full of his various belongings out of their usual places and scattered all over the floor around them, some of them visibly damaged. But Luke paid little to no attention to this, his heart beating with nervous anticipation, still feeling somehow weak. All he could focus now was right in front of him.
The cyborg still haven't made a motion yet, but Luke somehow, could tell the moment he came back to consciousness, as he looked directly onto the black mask, into it's red lenses. The boy could almost physicaly feel the slight of human eyes behind them, looking at him, but not truly seeing him, he could feel the impression of the distant look of someone who just returned from the verge of death, still delirious, still not fully back to his senses, looking at him and seeing something else.
The deep, raspy voice echoed the room.
"Are you an angel?"
Luke instantly remembered the old tales unt Beru told him when he was a child, he remembered how his aunt revealed to him that their grandmother was once uses ro telling the same kind of stories to Luke's father before...
Luke leaned closer, keep looking at the cyborg.
"I am a person. My name is Luke Skywalker..."