Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Index

Chapter 2: Intern

Luke is sent undercover on the Executor. Things do not go quite according to plan.

Chapter 3: Sigh

Lord Vader is away from The Executor. He asks Captain Piett to check on a guest.

Chapter 4: Awkward Revelations

Luke keeps Leia company when she is sick. Skywalker shenanigans result.

Chapter 5: Good-Night Sweet Prince

The Alliance evacuates a base.

Chapter 6: Flight

Luke gets separated on a mission and unsurprisingly encounters trouble. Because of course he does. Featuring wolf-shifter Skywalkers.

Chapter 7: Recruit

Luke Skywalker goes to a cantina. Things do not go to plan.

Chapter 8: Runaway

This one is darker. Child abuse and references to slavery are part of the story. You have been warned.

Chapter 9: Escape

There is a battlefield.

  Chapter 10: Trap

Luke Skywalker has a bad night.

Like some previous chapters, Luke Skywalker is once again much younger due to having been hidden in stasis. Leia Organa is her normal age so about 20. This is pre-ESB.

Chapter 11: Ice

A feral desert child meets ice.  Tatooine teaches about the importance of water. It is an unusually bad place to learn what to do with it when it is frozen.

Chapter 12: Shooting Stars

Biggs and Luke are reunited at the base on Yavin where Luke is a mechanic but trains as a pilot. Luke had previously escaped/defected/kidnapped from the Empire depending on ones point of view.

Chapter 13: Finders Keepers

Three Rogues are sent on an easy mission. It does not go quite according to plan. At least, not according to the Rogues’ plan.

Chapter 14: Hunger

The Rogues go on a mission to acquire desperately needed supplies. It does not go according to plan.

Chapter 15: Adrift

Red 5 has a bit of a mishap during an evacuation.

Chapter 16: Camping

Leia needs to get away from the Rebellion and decides to take Luke along.

Chapter 17: Caffeine

Parents know the danger of giving a child too much caffeine or sugar.

Chapter 18: Glitter

The Rogues go on a rescue mission on a space station.

Chapter 19: Breath

Luke is still recovering from a serious respiratory illness when he is sent on a mission to ferry fresh troops to an outpost.

Chapter 20: Fire

Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader collide during a battle. Crashing is not the only hazard.

Chapter 21: Stalker

High Command summons Luke Skywalker about a troubling discovery.

Chapter 22: Mission

Ezra and Luke take on a hazardous mission.

Chapter 23: Giver

Alliance Security and Intelligence hated Life Day. They hated the whole holiday season. They especially hated the people making their lives more difficult in the name of festivities.

Chapter 24: Claws

An abandoned GAR base is scouted as a potential location for a new Rebel base.

Chapter 25: Pickup

Wedge Antilles is sent on a rescue mission.

Chapter 26: Doctor

Luke is ordered to get a physical after officially joining the Alliance.

Chapter 27: Rescue

Luke encounters difficulties while on solo mission.

Chapter 28: Unexpected

Zevulon Veers was expecting to go on a training flight. The Force had other ideas.

Chapter 29: Mud

Luke Skywalker is sent on a solo scouting mission on a nice safe planet. Only one problem, there is a Skywalker on the mission.

Chapter 30: Cubs

Post Battle of Yavin party

Chapter 31: Welcome

Tycho Celchu has taken it upon himself to provide an unofficial welcome guide for Rogue Squadron.

Chapter 32: Paradise

Mon Mothma sends Leia on a vacation mission with Luke as her companion.

Chapter 33: Legends

Luke and Leia go on a mission together. On their way back, they stop at Dantooine. Featuring dragon shifting Skywalkers

Chapter 34: Waves

 Training missions are sometimes challenges to survive.

Chapter 35: Fog

Luke goes on a solo scouting mission to check out reports of an abandoned GAR base. Naturally, it goes awry.

Chapter 36: Duct

High Command sends Luke on a solo mission to plant surveillance devices on the Devastator.

Chapter 37: Prey

Luke is scouting a planet for a potential base site. Unfortunately, he finds himself being hunted.

Chapter 38: Surprise

Luke and Leia are summoned to a conference room without explanation.

Chapter 39: Hoth

Echo Base has been attacked by the Empire

Chapter 41: Heat

Wedge Antilles and Luke Skywalker were sent to scout possible base sites on some planets.

Chapter 42: Swamp

Our hero and his faithful droid go insearch of a Jedi temple.

Chapter 42: Stolen

The Rogues go on a mission that goes awry.

Chapter 43: Oblivious

A bounty hunter captures his target. Set pre-ANH.

Chapter 44: Sunrise

 Vader makes an unexpected discovery. He chooses an unorthodox method of handling it. Meanwhile, some Rogues pay a visit to a hive of scum and villainy.

Chapter 45: Snare

Leia volunteers Luke to sneak onboard the Devastator during a refit.

Chapter 46: Innocent

Han, Chewie, and Luke go on an unexpected hike.

Chapter 47: Soup

The Falcon’s gang takes turns preparing food.

Luke accompanies Chewie to a market on a space station and nearly causes an intergalactic incident between the Mandalorian Empire and the Sith Empire.

Chapter 48: Labyrinth

Luke is being hunted through a maze.

Chapter Text

He should move. He really should. Staring blearily at the ceiling, Luke is unable to shake the feeling he is out of time.

With an effort of will, Luke raises his head to attempt to get a look around. The entrance to the droid passageway he and Artoo had entered through moments earlier has vanished. From his position on the floor, the bed looks ridiculously tall. Unfairly, the plush carpet he is lying on feels softer than his bunk on Home One.

Exhausted, Luke's head falls back so he is looking drowsily at the ceiling. Gradually, he becomes aware that the room is becoming dim and that the ceiling is covered in a multitude of tiny lights that become visible in the gathering gloom. Strangely, it is like looking at the night sky from his Uncle Owen’s farm on Tatooine. Luke is just too sleepy to ponder the ramifications of the stars or of the stuffed toy he is still holding. Drowsily watching the stars come out overhead while lying on the ridiculously soft carpet, the gentle sound of wind and waves slowly lap at his awareness washing away his fading consciousness.

Pleased, The Lady and a mouse droid watch over the sleeping boy.

***********

Six Weeks Prior

Luke had been surprised when General Dodonna had informed him that he was being sent undercover on The Executor while it was finishing construction at the Kuatt Shipyards. The Imperial Navy and the shipyard were offering a contest for the prize of a three-week internship for ten potential engineering students. High Command was certain that they could make sure he was one of the “lucky” winners. While the precise activities of the internship were unknown, it would be on board the new Executor. Since the super star destroyer was the first of its class, any information gleaned would be invaluable. Given Luke's talent for engineering and his fascination with all things that fly, he was being sent despite being too young for the internship and small for his age. He would be provided with fake identification under the name Luke Sands. R2-D2 would accompany him but would have to remain in the dorms most of the time.

Luke had been worried. He had never been on a solo mission and never undercover. He had never even been on his own. After his family had died, he was with Ben Kenobi. When Ben was killed, Han and Chewie had looked after him. This would be the first time on his own but at least he would have Artoo.

**********

Best mission ever. The three week mission on The Executor was nearly at an end. Soon, Intern Luke Sands would step into the gangway and Rebel Commander Luke Skywalker would stroll away. He had been able to learn a lot about Imperial ships and The Executor in particular. It had been an amazing experience exploring the behemoth and talking to the engineers. Artoo had gathered even more data. High Command will be pleased.

At first, there had been trouble with the other interns because of his size and being from the Outer Rim. Captain Piett had soon put a stop to the bullying. Luke found himself liking the Captain even if he was an Imp. The crew had quickly come to enjoy having the pint-sized ball of sunshine around. There was just something about the boy that raised morale and brought a sort of warmth whenever he was nearby. That it was the opposite of effect of Vader’s presence, was not even discussed in whispers.

After the second day, Luke was always greeted by the mouse droids after he had extricated MS-42 from a tangle of loose wires. The little mouse droid had been surprised by his kindness towards a droid. The tale had quickly spread amongst the ship's droids. They soon discovered Luke's friendship with Artoo further increasing his popularity. Most humans treated the droids like objects. Politeness towards a droid was nearly unheard of.

Unbeknownst to Luke, The Lady herself had taken note of him. Wherever he went, her crew's performance and morale increased. Her captain was fond of the boy. Many of her droids loved him for his kindness. Most interesting of all, Luke looked and sounded exactly like the child her commander was desperately seeking. Lord Vader had recently learned his son was not dead but stolen away at birth. Making it even worse, the boy had been kept in stasis for an unknown number of years. While he had been born 19 years ago, he was actually much younger but was still being sent on missions by the rebels. Lord Vader had provided her with data including parental DNA samples and some holos. When the boy had cut his arm on a sharp piece of metal, The Lady had taken the opportunity to acquire a blood sample to verify Luke Sands was really the sought after Luke Skywalker.

After gathering his things, Luke and Artoo went to leave the ship to head back to The Rebellion. They were surprised to find a crowd gathered at the entrance to the gangway. The defense ray shield covering the hatch was malfunctioning much to the confusion of the maintenance personnel tasked with fixing it. All tests showed it functioning normally but whenever they managed to turn it off, it inexplicably turned back on.

While waiting, MS-42 approached Luke saying there was something that he would like to show Luke. Bored, Luke decided to followed his new droid friend despite Artoo's suspicion of the Imperial droid. The diminutive droid led him to a droid passageway. While not designed for humans, Luke's small size allowed him to easily move through passages. Unbeknownst to Luke, hatches closed sealing the passageways around him. Eventually, a small door is opened in the wall. MS-42 led Luke and Artoo through.

Luke is surprised to step out into the most luxurious bedroom that he has ever seen. Artoo follows close behind, still beeping his concern. Unusually for an Imperial warship, the room is decorated in warm yellows, tans, and blues. There are a couple of doors on one wall. On another, there is a large viewport covered by curtains with a big comfy chair. Over one of the armrests is a too perfectly folded blanket. There are some paintings scattered around including an abstract reminiscent of binary suns setting over a desert. There is a large bed covered in fluffy blankets with a large pile of pillows. Up against the pillows is a stuffed toy bantha. Strangely, it look a lot like a favorite toy that was left behind when he and Ben had fled Tatooine. There is an odd chemical smell to the air.

Despite a growing sense of unease from The Force, Luke attempts to wait patiently. Picking up the toy to take a closer look, Luke realizes the bantha was his only thoroughly cleaned and repaired. How could it be here? Staring at the much loved stuffed animal, Luke wonders what was going on. Unnoticed, a feeling of sleepy well-being is slowly drifting over him blotting out his anxiety and confusion.

Artoo’s frantic beeps about a sedative gas filling the room startles Luke temporarily awake. Belatedly realizing it was a trap and he has been drugged, Luke calls Artoo and turns to flee only to see the droid entrance had closed silently without leaving a visible trace. Too tired to stand, Luke sits heavily down on the floor before falling onto his side with the toy still clutched in his hands. His fear and desire to escape evaporating like water on the desert sands.

From the other side of the room, Artoo races to get to his boy but the soft carpet hinders his movements. MS-42 darts to safety under the bed out of reach of the outraged astromech. Artoo lets out a furious squeal right before a localized ion charge disables the troublesome droid.

The Lady watches with satisfaction as Luke slowly sinks into a peaceful slumber. All too easy. She sends a heavily encrypted message to her commander’s commlink. He is scheduled to arrive on board in a few hours.

The ray shield blocking the gangway mysteriously starts functioning normally much to the consternation of the maintenance crew. The security team overseeing the departure of the various personnel are unaware of a name having been marked off without ever passing the checkpoint.

Several hours pass peacefully to the sound of winds and waves. The sleeping child only shifting position to curl up with the stuffed animal in his arms.

Luke does not wake when a menacing black clad giant stares down at him in wonder. Nor does he wake when he was gently picked up and placed in the bed. He slept on as a battered stuffed bantha was tenderly placed back in his arms and blankets tucked around him. With surprising gentleness a large hand strokes his hair. From behind a mask that has become a symbol of terror, blue eyes look down with love at his sleeping child. For now, Lord Vader is content to just watch his son sleep. Once he wakes, they will have much to discuss.

For so long, Vader believed Luke was buried with his wife. Once he learned his son was alive, he sought to find out everything he could about him. Finding the toy in the ruins of the Lars homestead had been like finding treasure. To have his son here, in the bedroom prepared especially for him, is almost beyond belief.

Unobserved, the spirit of his former master smiles. Perhaps Padme was right after all.

Soon, the Dark Lord will implement plans to guarantee his son's safety and serve some very cold revenge. His eyes burn gold as he considers what his Master would do to the boy if he finds him. Palpatine must die…preferably horribly after his treachery. Sensing his rage and the restless darkness, Luke stirs uneasily in his sleep. Vader strokes his son's face and pushes feelings of peace and safety through their bond. As his child relaxes once more, Vader vows to keep his son safe whatever the cost.

Glancing around the room, Vader is surprised to recognize the inert form of his old droid. Artoo will need to be fitted with a restraining bolt before reactivating lest he cause chaos or help his son escape.

For an instant, Vader thought he felt Kenobi's presence. Perplexed, Vader turns his gaze back to his son. No one, would take his son away again. Neither the dead Kenobi nor the soon to be dead Palpatine would be allowed to touch a hair on his head.

Chapter Text

Captain Piett was accustomed to being overly busy and receiving odd assignments. He was accustomed to the mischief of cadets and young officers. He had long since stopped being surprised by what they could get into. He prided himself on his ability to appear unflappable no matter what. When Lord Vader was unexpectedly delayed for a few days returning to the Executor, he had been given some additional orders. Most were routine with one exception.

Standing just inside the closed doorway of Lord Vader's mysterious “guest” quarters, he found himself surprised. Crossing his arms and clearing his throat, he unleashed his most stern and disappointed tone that he reserved for young officers who are in serious trouble. “Commander, get down right now.”

In front of him, perched on a precarious stack of couch cushions piled on top of a desk was a small blonde teenager who was intently trying to disassemble a recess light. Startled, the boy pinwheels his arms as he tried unsuccessfully to regain his balance.

Smothering a sigh, he strode over to where the boy now sprawled in a pile of cushions. Still radiating an air of stern disapproval, Piett asks, “Were you injured?”

Looking up sheepishly, the boy shook his head. “Are you going to tell, Fa-Lord Vader?”

With an exasperated sigh, ignoring the question and curious slip of the tongue, Piett sends a couple quick messages. Young Skywalker will need to be checked out by a medic. It was a bad fall and he thought the boy may have struck the welded down desk chair and/or desk.

“Really sir, I am not injured.” Insists the infamous rebel, as he slowly gets up while attempting to hide a gasp of pain. The boy looks up innocently with his big blue eyes. Piett sighs and shakes his head as he reads Kix's acknowledgement which included a warning that the boy’s parents and former master were all prone to ignoring their own injuries.

Only Kix, Veers, and himself know of Lord Vader’s reluctant guest. Since Skywalker may have found a way to escape, he will need someone with him constantly until Lord Vader returns. The three of them will need to split babysitting up. Piett needed to ask Veers to help better childproof the rooms. Maybe look into adding ray shielding in the walls and the ceiling crawl space.

It is going to be a long few days.

Chapter Text

“Attention all personnel: Please remember that the tanks on the back of toilets are not designed to be sat on. Using one as a seat can result in accidents including becoming trapped or injured.

If you become trapped, please contact maintenance immediately. Do not attempt to free anyone trapped beside or behind a toilet.

Maintenance will determine the appropriate punishments which may take the form of humiliation. We have determine that use of the photo are both a warning and an adequate punishment. Please see attachment.

--Maintenance”

******

Very early the following morning, Maximilian Veers was sipping coffee as he and his friend Firmus Piett sorted through data pads with incoming messages. Max opened the attachment on one odd rebel notice and proceeded to choke on his coffee.

Seeing his friend’s concerned expression, Veers simply handed him the data pad with the comment “Well, this photo will be all over the fleet by lunch.”

Taking the data pad with trepidation, Piett saw a photo of a sheepish blond Rebel. The boy appeared to be wedged on his back under the back of a toilet. He was bent nearly double with his boots between the side of the toilet and a wall. The tank lid was somehow over top of him with one edge jammed into the back of his knees pinning them to the wall. All a rather dumbfounded Piett managed was a “What the kriff?”

Appended to the notice was a comment that the photo was genuine and was taken in General Leia Organa’s quarters on Home One. Also attached, was a report by Agent 3141592. Unbeknownst to Veers, he is one of Vader’s agents not ISB. He sends his reports in to Piett and directly to Lord Vader.

He had overheard the Luke Skywalker being questioned by Wedge Antilles about the incident.

Organa had been ill and Skywalker had been keeping her company in her refresher. He had been seated on the back of the toilet when Organa shoved him to the side to vomit. Losing his balance, he had fallen backwards into the gap between the side of the tank and the wall with the lid going with him. Landing awkwardly on the floor, he had slid partially under the tank with the water shutoff valve shoved into his side. The lid became jammed effectively locking him in place. The wookie, Chewbacca, had attempted to free him but was unable to turn the water off since the shutoff was behind Luke. Maintenance had to be called.

Agent 3141592 also noted that Skywalker had referred to Organa as his “big sister” during his recounting of the accident. Unclear, if Skywalker meant Organa was his biological sister. Both Organa and Skywalker are adopted and have similar birth dates. Skywalker had been hidden in stasis for an undisclosed length of time resulting in the difference in age. The agent had previously reported an argument between Skywalker and Organa about whether or not she is force-sensitive. Skywalker believes she is.

Also of note, Bail Organa was close friends with Padme Amidala who Leia Organa closely resembles. Amidala was known to have been a close associate of Jedi Anakin Skywalker. Amidala had died on Empire Day in child birth which closely corresponds to the supposed birth dates of young Skywalker and Organa. Amidala appeared to be pregnant at her funeral but that could be faked. If the father was the elder Skywalker, the deception would make sense in light of the ongoing Jedi purge. Young Skywalker does not have any documents and Organa’s may be suspect given her adopt family’s activities. Agent 3141592 suggests DNA tests to verify. Further, Skywalker often wears a necklace that looks like one Amidala always wore. When Agent 3141592 asked about it, Skywalker replied it was a japor snippet that his father had made for his mother. A picture of it was enclosed in a previous report.

Also of note, the fate of Anakin Skywalker is unknown. He disappeared during the purge. It is commonly believed he died at the Jedi Temple but there is no documentation unlike other Jedi who died there. He was known to be a protégé of the then Chancellor. Dubbed by the media “The Hero With No Fear”, the elder Skywalker was a giant of a man, a famous Jedi general, a legendary pilot, and nearly invincible warrior during the Clone Wars.

“I wonder what poor ISB agent will be given the task of delivering that to his Lordship?” Veers mused as he looked across at an equally thoughtful Piett. Unaware the agent was not one of ISB's and Vader already had a copy. Piett expected to know as soon as Lord Vader finished his.

Piett read over the last few lines repeatedly with something akin to horror. Surely not?

Later that day, the bounty on Leia Organa was increased with the addition of alive and unharmed. Harm or death would face summary punishment at the discretion of Lord Vader. Also added was the caution that she was a suspected force-sensitive.

*****

“Mando, your Jedi is Luke Skywalker. He is a legend, an all around sweetie, and walking trouble magnet.” Cara Dune offered while watching her friend with concern. “I didn’t know he was a Jedi. A lot of the weirder stories about him make sense now including he carried a blue or green lightsaber. Some soldiers swore they saw him deflect blaster fire, jump impossible distances, and move inhumanly fast. He was an elite fighter pilot while still a child. His laugh and smile could warm Hoth. Few people are better to have at your back. The Princess and Skywalker were always close after Yavin. Rumor has it after Palpatine’s death, she convinced/terrified the courts into giving her legal custody until Skywalker came of age. Skywalker is still seen with her sometimes. Fett used to hunt Skywalker and The Princess for Vader. He may know more.” Din Djarin didn't need to ask who The Princess was. To Cara, Senator Leia Organa was only Princess.

Cara starts flipping through old pictures and starts laughing. Quickly copying some into a folder, she handed her holoprojector to Djarin. A moment later, she was rewarded with a confused “What the kriff?”

Chapter Text

On the side of the mountain, concealed by towering spires of rock, a small Rebel base clung to the inhospitable terrain. Throughout the base, alarms sounded signaling an emergency evacuation. Rebels raced to complete their assigned tasks and board their ships. Orange-clad fighter pilots hurried to get airborne. With an efficiency borne of past experience, equipment was quickly loaded and vessels prepared to launch.

Fastened into his cockpit, Luke Skywalker waited for his turn to lift off. The youngest of the rebel pilots, he was also the best despite his lack of formal training. Born to fly, he was impatient to be airborne. Even knowing death would stalk the skies, Luke couldn’t help a thrill of anticipation.

The Rogues formed up at their assigned position and watched for Imperial forces. The good news was that there had been plenty of time to get the transports loaded without fighting on the ground. The bad was that there was not enough to escape to hyperspace before the Empire arrived. After what seemed an eternity, star destroyers appeared and launched their TIE fighters. There was a running joke in the squadron that TIE stood for Temporary, Inflammable, and Expendable.

Twisting and dodging enemy fire, Luke joined the space battle. Green and red blaster shots streaked through the night accompanied by occasional explosions and screams of agony felt through the Force and heard over comms. Luke’s fighter danced through the battle raining down death on his foes.

After what seemed like hours, there was a shift in the battle once all transports were clear. The order was given to disengage and enter hyperspace. All over the battlefield, fighters and warships began making their jumps. Spinning free of the battle, Luke needed to get a bit further from the planet. Further ahead, Luke could see some of his squadron and the Falcon heading for safety.

For some time, Luke had been aware of an icy chill. He had not sure what to make of it since his cockpit was a normal temperature. Sweeping around a destroyed transport, Luke saw a notorious TIE with bent wings. Hastily turning, Luke fled from the ship flown by death incarnate. It was the same fighter that had pursued Luke through the Death Star’s trench.

For what seemed like hours, the two fighters spun and danced through the heavens. The TIE matches Luke move for move. Without warning, an alarm screeches indicating the hyperactive engine was inoperative. Puzzled, Luke called back to Artoo only to be met with silence. Glancing back, Luke could see Artoo snug in his socket but all lights off and unmoving.

Behind and to one side Vader’s fighter flew almost in formation matching Luke’s moves. Vader’s presence coiled around Luke. Strangely, instead of the expected hate and rage, Vader’s presence felt pleased and proud. A voice soothingly caressed Luke’s frightened mind whispering “Mine”.

“Luke! Try to make it to one of the ships. Hurry!” Leia’s voice cut through Luke’s growing panic. Watching the battle from Home One’s bridge, Leia had seen an alert about his hyperdrive.

“Leia, Artoo is also down but I don’t think I was hit. Vader is on my tail. I can’t shake him.” Luke responded trying to sound calmer than he felt.

“Wedge, can you get to Luke?” asked Leia. Looking at the battle plot with horror, she realized her brother was cut off and was being herded away.

“Negative. I lost weapons and my shields can’t take much more.” Wedge responded after being driven back by a storm of fire.

Desperately twisting and diving, Luke continued in vain to escape. Suddenly, a sense of calm and safety washed over him quieting his panic. Vader’s presence tightened around Luke in a protective embrace urging him to relax. The voice was telling him was safe now and to rest. He tried to break free of Vader’s hold but it only coiled tighter overwhelming the young Jedi. Luke’s hands fell away from the control as his eyes started to close.

Leia watched horrified as her brother’s fighter slowed and movements became uncoordinated. Another alert flashed on the screen indicating Luke was losing consciousness. Leia remotely activated a quick-acting stim spray that was pumped into his air supply. Yelling at him to stay awake demanding to know what was happening. The stim briefly roused Luke but it was ultimately as effective as halting a herd of stampeding banthas by throwing sand.

Luke’s voice was slurred as he mumbled something incoherent about hugs, sandstorms, and Aunt Beru telling stories.

Leia continued shouting Luke’s name into the comm ordering him to not give up. Promising that she would find him until sympathetic hands pulled her away as Home One jumped. The gold flickering in her eyes went unnoticed.

The x-wing drifted watched over by a TIE Advanced as The Devastator approached. A tractor beam pulled the fighter with its unconscious pilot into Vader’s private hanger. With the barely concealed glee of a child unwrapping a Lifeday present, the Dark Lord watched as technicians opened the fighter and unfastened his sleeping son. Lifting the boy down with the Force, Vader studied his son’s peaceful features. The blue mixed with the gold in his eyes was safely concealed by his mask.

Before carrying his son off, Lord Vader made sure the technicians knew what would happen if they breathed a word of the boy. He instructed for the deactivated droid to be delivered to his quarters after being fit with a restraining bolt. The fighter was to be moved to the back of the hanger.

Later on, he returned to the hangar and covered his son's fighter with tarps. He piled some miscellaneous ship and droid parts around it. For those not intimately familiar with his collection, it would appear to be just another ship that had accumulated the debris of his hobbies around it.

Luke slowly woke. He still felt the wonderful feeling of safety and contentment that had accompanied him into sleep. He had been dreaming of Aunt Beru holding him and telling the secret stories as sandstorms raged. Curled up on the soft bed, he snuggled deeper into a pile of soft blankets, pulling a stuffed duck close. Too comfortable and at peace to desire to move, he was content to relax as a large hand stroked his hair until sleep claimed him once more.

Hours later, Luke woke up confused. He was dressed in soft pajamas. Quickly looking around wondering where he was and how he got there, Luke made a beeline for the refresher. The sight of the luxurious room only deepened his bafflement.

Chapter Text

Prey

A deep wide river valley cut through the mountains. Its sides are sheer cliff faces of soft sandstone in different shades of tan. Dominating the valley is a large clearing surrounded by forest. In the distance, a cruel-looking tower rears above the trees contrasting with the idyllic beauty of the area. At one end of the valley, a turbulent stream tumbles down a steep slope in a series of falls and rapids before meandering through the meadow to exit through a narrow crevice at the other end. Herds of deer-like creatures spend their days grazing along its banks. Fawns race and play under the watchful eyes of their parents. The song of birds and the hum of insects fill the air accompanied by the occasional call of the deer and the distant thunder of the falls. It was a scene to delight the hearts of poets and lovers.

Today, the deer have fled and the melody of the insects and birds is silenced. Instead the valley echoes to the calls of stormtroopers and the hum of speeders. White armor flashes in the sun where deer were want to graze.

On the edge of the clearing, beneath a fallen log and further concealed by brush, Luke Skywalker crouches. Grateful for the rest, he was tired. He had ran all of the way from the distant tower during the night. Worse, it was maybe two days since had last slept.

If possible, he planned to remain in his hiding place until it grew dark. With a bit of luck, the Imps would not suspect he was still in this area. Luke hoped to slip through the shadows to his x-wing or steal a ship before morning. For now, it was best to wait quietly and regain his strength. Already, he was tormented by thirst. He had dropped his canteen earlier in his flight. While living on Tatooine had taught him to control his thirst, it also made him aware of the dangers of dehydration. He was out of food but that was a less immediate concern.

Slowly, the search moved on from the meadow. Luke began to relax believing he would go undiscovered. The distant hum of insects began to drift through the trees. The peaceful hum soothed his anxiety. Gently, sleep beckons to the exhausted fugitive. The occasional bird song adds to the sense of peace returning to the meadow.

A sudden warning from the Force sent Luke bolting from his hideout just in time to avoid some sort of predator dropping down where he had been dozing. He did not know what was after him. He only had a glimpse of something dark. Darting forward, Luke found himself in the meadow the grass and brush was over his head. He did not dare to look back but he could sense he was being hunted by the predator.

Running as fast as he could, Luke began a desperate race. Just like Beggar's Canyon back home, Luke relies on the Force to guide him through the obstacles. Reaching the stream, he was forced to turn to the side. Twisting and turning, Luke attempts to reach the dense undergrowth of the forest that would give him he advantage over his hunter. At times, he thinks he can feel breathe on the back of his neck or a brush against his back or sides. Exhausted but forcing himself to keep going, Luke feels like he has been running for hours. Bone aching fatigue was causing him to make mistakes and stumble.The crash of his pursuer through the brush drives Luke onward. Bizarrely, it seems like he is prevented from taking a bad fall by the predator when he strays to close to a steep section of the bank. Impossibly, Luke thinks he can hear a deep voice warning him to slow down before he injures himself. With his muscles complaining and his lungs burning, only his determination keeps him moving. With every moment, he could feel he hunter's growing anticipation. Inexplicably, he does not feel an intent to harm him from the hunter.

It almost came as a relief when he felt himself lifted from the ground. The pressure on the back of his neck did not hurt. Instinctively, he curled up in the predator's grasp. Something about being carried made Luke feel safe and relaxed. As his terror melted away, Luke’s eyes began to droop. As gently as a krayt carrying its hatchling, Luke is borne away.

Predator

Luke was well hidden. Realistically, it would have been surprising if the stormtroopers had succeeded in capturing the boy. Repeatedly, Luke had proven himself to be resourceful and talented in escaping. While exasperating, Darth Vader was proud. Today, his son was going to come home whether he wanted to or not.

Cody and LM-7397 were ordered to block the far path out of the valley. Veers and Piett to watch the one with the shuttle. Netting was stretched across both passes to delay any escape attempt.

Slowly approaching the hideout from downwind, Vader can sense Luke's exhaustion. As the valley returned to normal, his child relaxed. Carefully, urging him to rest, he pauses his approach. His patience is rewarded. Gradually, his son's presence dims in the Force as he begins to doze.

Slowly stalking forward, Vader is nearly within reach when Luke suddenly wakes and darts away narrowly avoiding his father. For being so small, Luke was swift and agile. The Force gives him even more speed and grace. Not fast enough to escape but fast enough to make catching him difficult without risk of hurting him. Tired before leaving his lair, Vader is confident that Luke falter fairly quickly.

Not unlike the twists and turns of a space battle, his boy instinctively used similar tactics trying to prevent his inevitable capture. A futile endeavor given his relatively tiny size and inexperience but a worthy attempt nonetheless. A few times, Vader drew close enough to brush up against him or nearly get close enough to pick him up. In his exhaustion, Luke nearly tumbled down a bank into the river. Vader prevented his fall with a well-timed nudge. Getting close was the easy part. Grabbing him without hurting him was a bigger problem. As Luke tired, it would become safer. Running with his son for the first time, Vader felt a thrill in anticipation of finally having his son. Being sure to keep him in the meadow where his small size was a disadvantage, they raced on. Vader allowing Luke to further exhaust himself before attempting to seize him. After nearly a half hour, the youngling’s strength was nearly spent.

Getting close, Vader was able to pick him up. Instinctively, Luke curled up. Soothed by being carried, Luke quickly becomes drowsy. It is a proud and delighted father who carries his exhausted offspring back to the shuttle.

Leaving Luke in the care of General Veers, Vader goes into the privacy of a small room to change. Coming out, he notices Luke has woke up. He is clearly confused but through their bond, Vader is aware of his son feeling safe and content. A mild force suggestion is all it takes to send him into a deep sleep.

Bystanders

Piett and Veers had grown accustomed to strange events. The Lord Vader in the form of a great black wolf-like creature with yellow eyes trotting from the treeline carrying a small gold pup like a mother lothcat was unprecedented. Unlike his usual anger, Vader seemed pleased and calm. Two emotions neither officers thought the Sith capable of.

After gently carrying the pup up the ramp into the waiting shuttle, he carefully placed the pup on the floor. Looking pointedly at Veers and then at the pup, Vader went into a small room that he used to change. After quickly closing the ramp to prevent an escape, Piett noticed the golden pup had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. The pup made no attempt to flee, but lay where he had left to all appearances nearly asleep. After a few minutes had past, the pup raised his head and looked drowsily around.

Lord Vader returned in his normal menacing form. He scooped the pup up and placed him on one of the rows of benches along the wall. After caressing the pup’s head, which Piett most definitely did not see, he rested his hand on the pup’s head and ordered him to sleep. The pup swayed slightly as he attempted to keep his eyes open but quickly surrendered to sleep with a contented sigh.

“As soon as Cody returns with the other stormtrooper, we will leave. The shuttle is not equipped to safely secure the pup. One of you will need to make sure the pup is not injured. He will not wake up.” With that, Vader sat in the pilot seat and began preflight checks.

Veers and Piett exchanged a look, “Do you want to hold the puppy?” Inquired Veers.

“You can so long you supply alcohol later,” Piett responds. Looking at the sleeping pup, a disturbing idea crosses his mind about a certain small, blond, blue-eyed Rebel pilot with a propensity for chaos. A suspected Jedi youngling that Vader was obsessed with finding.

Cody soon returned with LM-7397. Although Veers spoke well of both, Piett has not worked with either stormtrooper before. Neither gave no indication of being surprised by their guest. LM-7397 stops and studies the pup for a moment. Making the enigmatic comment, “I was right.” She takes her seat.

The following day, Piett was called to Lord Vader’s quarters. Little realizing his world was about to be turned upside down.

Chapter Text

When Wes and Hobbie proposed stopping in a cantina to unwind, Luke was less than enthusiastic. Not being old enough to drink on a planet that was very serious about underaged drinking, Luke was expecting a rather different evening at the cantina then his friends. That he did not even like alcohol was not the point. Luke perked up when he saw the arcade. In pride of place was an elaborate TIE flight simulator. His eyes lit up and he pulled Hobbie over for a quick lesson on TIE controls in the enclosed mock cockpit.

Looking at the high scores, Luke recognized a name. “Hey Hobbie, isn't Zev Senesca the pilot Wedge was talking about who disappeared last week?”

“Yeah, boss. Haven't you heard the rumors about pilots vanishing over the last year mostly in the Outer Rim?”

“No, what has been going on?” Luke felt uneasy. If Senesca had been taken recently from the area, there could be slavers or bounty hunters around who were responsible for his disappearance. It was possible, that Zev was being held prisoner in the area.

“Well, all sorts of pilots have vanished. Freighter pilots, smugglers, Rebels, pirates, and others have all gone missing. Humans are the prime target so long as they are skilled. No one knows what is happening.”

“Sounds like slavers.” Luke frowned at the control system. None of them were particularly imposing looking, especially Luke. They were pilots, not shock troops. They all had blasters and his lightsaber was concealed in Artoo. Luke found himself wishing Chewie was with them. While abductions were not uncommon on Tatooine, this was a mid-rim world with a functioning government.

“Maybe refrain from showing off too much.” Wes suggested knowing Luke would be aiming for the high score.

Dismissing the weird engineering decision to make the door two layers, Luke closed the door to the simulator and began the setup process. He had to move the seat all the way forward. Some of the controls were a bit far but he could manage. Interestingly, the simulator appeared to be a part of a network where players could be challenged.

The first couple of rounds passed quickly. They were clearly designed to familiarize a pilot with a TIE. Luke quickly got the hang of it. The next round was a simulation of a battle with pirates. While he had been planning to take Wes's advice, Luke lost himself in the mock battle and blew past the goal for the level and the next. After the fourth, Luke was challenged by someone called Soontir Fels to fly a round. The other pilot was extremely good. After the round, where Luke very much did not follow Wes's advice, Fels tried getting information out of him like if he was a cadet, his name, and what his experience was.

Having a bad feeling about the situation, Luke declined to answer questions and said he had to leave. Attempting to open the door, he was shocked to realize it would not open. Trying to yell for Wes and Hobbie failed as well. Standing on the seat, he tried unsuccessfully to force the door open.

A beep from the console drew his attention to a message welcoming him to the Imperial Navy and congratulating him on his posting to Black Squadron due to his outstanding performance. Staring in shock at the screen, Luke suddenly understood what was happening to the missing pilots. In a shortlived panic, he noticed a faint hissing sound and felt the mock cockpit start to move.

A short time later, the door was opened from a room that was definitely not the arcade. Two stormtroopers pulled the unconscious body of the newest member of the elite Black Squadron from the simulator cabin. A metal band with his posting information was wrapped around his wrist. Dumped in the enclosed back of a speeder, Luke was taken to a holding area of the nearby processing center where newly acquired pilots were brought.

Luke awoke to a pounding headache in a strange barracks. Attempting to sit, Luke was hit with a wave of dizziness. “Try to rest. The effects of the gas take a while to wear off.” Luke re-opened his eyes to look at the familiar-looking speaker while trying to force his eyes to focus. “Easy kid, take your time. It is the night cycle, the sleemos will probably leave you alone until morning. Name's Zev.”

“Senesca? I have seen you around. We haven't been introduced but I am friends with Wedge and Hobbie. I am Luke.”

“Careful what you say. The Imps may be listening.” Luke nodded in reply and promptly regretted it.

Closing his eyes, Luke attempted to follow Zev's advice. Wes and Hobbie would know he was missing. He had no doubt they would be looking for him. Well concealed in the soles of one of his boots was a tiny short-range tracker. Likely, Artoo was looking for him and had contacted Leia.

Awaken by bright lights coming on, Luke was finally able to sit up and open his eyes. He was in a room with a half dozen double bunk beds. Luke was in a bottom bed. Zev noticing he was awake pointed to the door at one end of the room. “Refresher.” Thanking him, he took care of what he needed to.

Returning to the bunk room, Luke looked around for possible escape routes. The room did not appear to have been designed to imprison a force-user. There were a couple vents that he was small enough to fit in: one in the ‘fresher and one in the ceiling of the bunk room. He might be able to get one open with the Force. The exit did not have a way to open it from this side. There was not a visible access panel. Given enough time, he might still be able to get the door open. His youth and small size would cause him to be underestimated. Luke well knew his appearance was misleading.

Luke's plotting was interrupted when the door opened and four stormtroopers entered. One of the stormtroopers pointed at him and ordered Luke to hold his wrists in front of him. Luke did not struggle when a standard pair of binders were snapped around his wrists. “Let's go brat.” The stormtrooper grabbed Luke by the arm and led him out.

Taken to the end of the hall, Luke was shoved into a chair in front of an officer. Asked for his name, Luke responded “Ben Owens”.

Staring at him, the officer unimpressed asked again. “Name.”

“Ben Owens”

“Your real name”

“Ben Owens”

“You are a terrible liar. Name.”

“Lukka Ekkreth”

“Good. Cooperation will make this easier for you. You have been granted the privilege of serving the Emperor. You are now a member of the Imperial Navy with the rank ensign. Do well and you will be rewarded. Do poorly or misbehave and you will be punished.” The officer looked at Luke like he was being given an amazing opportunity.

Studying Luke’s appearance and taking note of his under-weight body, patched pants, scuffed boots, and battered jacket. The officer continued, “The Imperial Navy has been giving opportunities to talented pilots to improve their lot in life. Even rebels, smugglers, and other reprobates are being given a fresh start. If proven deserving by loyal service, they can obtain a pardon for their crimes and have their record expunged. You are not in trouble. Is there anything that we need to be aware of?” Leaning back in his chair, he waited for a response to his announcement of the Imperial benevolence.

Luke stared at the officer like he had two heads. A slightly hysterical part of him wondered what the officer would say if he told him he was Red 5 and an aspiring Jedi. Sanity won out. “Um, thanks?”

As far as Luke knew, his existence was not really known to the Empire. Vader could recognize him from Cymoon-1 but he hadn't bothered to get his name. As far as he knew, at most, the Empire might have his picture. In the Imperial records, Luke had died unborn and unnamed when his pregnant mother died.

“Ensign Ekkreth, what is your home world?”

“Tatooine” Luke knew his accent would give his Outer Rim origin away. It would also explain his lack of documentation and lying about his name.

“Date of birth?”

“Around Empire Day”

“You do not know your date of birth?”

“Sorry, sir. I am an orphan. ”

“Parents?”

“Dead”

“Parents names?”

“I am an orphan. I never knew my parents.”

“Serial number”

“The Hutts are not exactly big on legal formalities.”

“Do you have a criminal record?”

“Not that I am aware of.”

“Where did you learn to fly?”

“Tatooine. I learned stunts to impress my friends.”

“Have you attended a flight school?”

“No”

“Have you served in the military?”

“Not old enough to enlist” All true from a certain point of view.

“Thank you for you cooperation. You will be returned to the barracks for now. A physical will be scheduled for you later today or tomorrow.

The stormtroopers escorted him back to the barracks and released his wrists. Rubbing his wrists, Luke began planning his escape. He needed to avoid that physical. If they ran a DNA test to try to identify his parents or checked his midoclorian level, it would be really bad. Flopping on his back on the bunk he woke on, Luke closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. Reaching out with the Force, a smile touched his lips when Luke recognized several very familiar presences.

A few minutes later, the door opens.
“Aren't you a little short to be a stormtrooper?”
“I am Leia Organa and I am here to rescue you!”

Chapter Text

“Father, no! Please don’t!” In desperation, the boy jumped and grabbed hold of his father's arm. Ignoring his son's frantic pleas, the father heedlessly tossed his son aside before continuing to slaughter the Rebel crew. His anger at his son's intervention feeds the darkness that swirled around them. It was only after the last Rebel fell that he turned to seek his son. His son was lying crumpled at the base of the wall where he had fallen. Staring in horror at his son, a taunting memory of the Emperor whispered through his mind. “It seems, in your anger, you killed her.”

Waking was unpleasant. The cloying taste of bacta and the beep of machines indicated he was in medbay before he opened his eyes to the overly bright room. His left side felt like it was on fire and his head throbbed. Disorientated, Luke expected one of his uncles or his aunt to come in. He must have crashed his skyhopper in Beggar's Canyon. Closing his eyes, he tried unsuccessfully to go back to sleep.

Slowly, memories returned. His father had taken him to a planning meeting for an upcoming attack on a Rebel base with instructions to remember and try to understand what was being discussed. Later, he would test Luke’s comprehension. The meeting was interrupted by a Rebel scout ship being tractored into the Devastator. His father took him along when the ship was opened. Pleading for the crew. Being thrown into the bulkhead. Pain.

From the bed, he could see the chronometer. It had only been 12 hours. Reaching out through the Force, he sought his father. He was on the planet that the Devastator was orbiting.

Staring at the ceiling, he thought about the stories his Aunt Beru would tell him. He found himself thinking about the times he helped his aunt remove chips from the escaped slaves. Unbidden, a memory surfaced of Aunt Beru telling him that deciding to escape could be one of the hardest parts of escaping to freedom.

The Emperor was a depur. Luke never doubted that since he was presented to him last Empire Day. His presence in the Force was foul beyond anything he had ever seen or felt. That he looked like a corpse was appropriate. His father had won his freedom only to once again become a slave. In time, Luke knew he was expected to wear the same chains as his father. The title of prince was a mockery. If he remained, his father might hurt him again in fit of rage or he would end up a slave to the Emperor.

Sitting up hurt. Standing even more. Despite the pain, he knew he had to leave. The Force urged him onward. Sneaking out of medbay was easy. Uncle Ben had taught him to walk unseen. Going to his room, he quickly changed into comfortable workout clothes. Going to his father's study, he used the Force to open the safe and remove the lightsaber he had built on Tatooine in his Uncle Owen’s workshop. His green crystal greeted him joyfully. Pausing, he left behind the words “dukkra ba dukkra” hoping his father would understand why he fled.

Walking unseen to the hanger, Luke selected a beat-up freighter that had been seized from smugglers recently. His father had shown him how it was modified. Quickly powering it up, he blinked back some tears knowing he might never see his father again. His father might hate him for what he was about to do. He was the first freeborne sky-walker. He would not be chained.

Ignoring the orders to power down, Luke danced through the TIEs sent to intercept the ship and dodged the tractor beam. Punching in the coordinates for Tatooine, he jumped to hyperspace. After an hour, he reverted to normal space early and calculated a new jump. While waiting in hyperspace, Luke decided on a name for the stolen freighter. When the alert sounded that it was time to exit hyperspace, Luke took a deep breath and released his fear into the Force like Uncle Ben taught him.

“Unknown vessel, identify yourself!” The challenge from an x-wing was expected.

“This is the Umakkar. I want to defect.” Luke hoped his voice did not betray his fear. An x-wing had come closer. He could see the togruta pilot.

“How many are onboard?”

“Just me. I have urgent information that I need to give to someone in charge.” was Luke's prompt reply. He waited for several minutes while he assumed there was a discussion on what to do with him.

“Follow me down. Do not make any sudden moves.” As an afterthought, the pilot added, “Do you know how to land?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Good. Follow me down.”

Having familiarized himself with the ship while in hyperspace, Luke landed gently where indicated and powered down.

He was ordered to open the ramp, walk slowly down with his hands out to the side, and kneel at the bottom with his hands on his head. Opening the ramp, he was greeted by drawn blasters. The Force indicated caution but not immediate danger. Halfway down the ramp Luke realized he probably should have left his lightsaber in the cockpit. Forcing himself not to obey his training and ignite his lightsaber, he knelt instead at the bottom of the ramp with his hands on his head.

Soldiers rushed past him as the ship was searched. Binders were placed on his wrists. Seeing the lightsaber, anxiety of his guards skyrocketed. Escorted to a room, Luke was seated at a table with his cuffs fastened to the table.

Taking a deep breath, Luke looked at the officer in charge of his guards. “The Empire knows where this base is. Darth Vader is intending to attack. I know what the plan is or was. The scout ship Amidala was captured yesterday. Vader killed the crew.”

Staring down, the officer pulled a commlink from his pocket and relayed what Luke had said.

A moment later, alarms began sounding with the message to begin evacuation.

The door opened again. The officer guarding Luke immediately saluted the dark-haired man who entered. He was not dressed or acted like he was in the military although clearly used to authority. His clothes suggested wealth.

“Who are you?” Looking down at the bound boy, his gaze was stern.

“My name is Luke Skywalker.” To Luke's surprise, the man acted like the name meant nothing while he could feel his agitation at the name.

“Are you an Inquisitor?”

“No.”

“You had a lightsaber. Where did you get it?”

“I made it.” The man waited patiently as though he wanted Luke to continue. “Uncle Ben taught me how to build it. He was training me to be a Jedi.”

“Who is Uncle Ben?” Luke had the distinct impression he was only confirming what the man knew.

“He is a Jedi. I am not supposed to talk about him.” Biting his lip, Luke adds, “I should not have said anything about him to you at all.”

“How find you find us?”

“I was at a meeting where the attack was being planned. I was told to remember details because I would be questioned to see if I remembered or understood what was said. The meeting was interrupted by the capture of the scout ship Amidala.”

“Why were you at the meeting?”

“Lord Vader had brought me. I was supposed to be learning about the military planning.”

“Are you his apprentice?”

“No, but he wanted me to be.”

“How long were you with him?”

“I was taken from my aunt and uncles about 6 months ago. I think they were killed.”

“Why did you run away?”

“The Emperor is even worse than Jabba. I don't want to be a Sith like them. Vader threw me against a wall when I got upset about him killing the Amidala’s crew. For some reason, the ship's name made him really angry. He was not on the Devastator when I woke up in medbay so I ran away.” Luke had been thinking about what to say. He didn't want to admit he was the son of Darth Vader.

“How old are you?”

“13”

“How did you get the freighter?”

“It was captured by the Devastator last week. I stole it to come here.”

The man's commlink beeped. After reading the message and typing a response, he looked at Luke. “It is time to go, Luke. I am Senator Bail Organa. I was friends with your mother. She would be proud that you are here.” Placing his hand reassuringly on Luke's left shoulder, Luke could not hide his pained gasp.

“How bad were you injured?”

“I don't know. I kinda remember hitting the wall before waking up in medbay. I escaped without talking to the doctor. I can still taste bacta. My head and most of my left side really hurts.” Luke watched Senator Organa send a message.

The door opened and a medic came in. After quickly examining him, the medic injected him with something to help with the pain. Luke was moved to a stretcher and told to stay still. Exhausted and the painkiller having taken effect, Luke fell asleep before his stretcher was strapped into a transport.

Waking up in a much less nice medbay, Luke was not in pain. A clone was sitting by his bed reading a data pad. Noticing Luke was awake, he smiled. “I am Captain Rex. I was asked to look after you until General Kenobi arrives.” There was also a blue and white astromech that beeped an enthusiastic greeting.

Years later, Vader felt his son's presence when chasing a x-wing in a trench of the Death Star. It was with pride when he saw his son fire the shot that destroyed it.

Standing by his wife, Bail Organa proudly watched as his daughter placed an award around the neck of his “nephew” after the Battle of Yavin. Padme would have been proud. Luke was growing up to be the man Anakin should have been. He had his father's abilities with his mother's temperament.

That Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader remained a closely guarded secret. Occasionally, Vader sent Luke gifts or “requested” contact with his son. Bail appreciated that those gifts often included intelligence. The horrible yellow jacket and carved necklace Luke was wearing during the ceremony were Lifeday presents from his father.

Vader was aware of his daughter but respected her wish to have nothing to do with him. The only time Vader and Leia had knowingly met had resulted in a four hour shouting match between the father and daughter.

Chapter Text

The once verdant paradise had become a hellscape of death and destruction. Luke Skywalker stood beside an outcropping of stone as he surveyed the bloodstained battlefield. While present for the battle, he had not been a participant. The Imperial and Rebel forces had been fighting for over 11 hours. Vader himself was taking part. Luke could sense his presence on the far side of the battlefield. Tendrils of the Dark Lord's presence twisted around Luke monitoring his presence.

Troubled, Luke put his hand on the unfamiliar lightsaber at his waist. Luke missed his blue one that had been lost when the Empire had attacked his home on Tatooine. Not only was this one too big for him to wield readily but Luke could feel its pain. It had belonged to an Inquisitor that Luke had killed when they had come for him. He had been ordered to carry it since he didn't have a lightsaber of his own anymore. Still recovering from the weeks of captivity, Luke was supposed to stay by the ships as an observer. It was supposed to be an opportunity to learn about ground warfare since he was expected to someday command soldiers.

After waiting for the guards to lose interest in him and for Vader to be distracted, Luke slipped away just another shadow in the gathering gloom. He left behind the loathsome weapon. Moving like a ghost amongst the dead, Luke made his way to the commander overseeing the Rebel's retreat. “Please take me with you.”

Luke remainded still as a dozen blasters were trained on him. A light was trained on Luke. “It’s a kriffing kid.” cursed a soldier. Whatever they expected, it would not have been a well-dressed, small, underweight 13-year-old boy with large blue eyes and blonde hair.

“What are you doing here kid?” demanded the commander. Staring at the small dark figure in front of him. The boy looked familiar. “You were onstage at the Empire Day speech last week.” The officer’s voice contained more than a hint of suspicion.

“Please sir, take me with you. My name is Luke Skywalker. I was Obi-wan Kenobi’s padawan before Inquisitors killed him and my Aunt and Uncle about a month ago. Vader wants me as his apprentice. I don't want to be a Sith. Please don't leave me with him.” Luke tried his best pleading tooka eyes.

“Kark. What are we supposed to do with the brat, sir?” Another officer had come over and heard Luke's plea.

“Take him and contact High Command from a safe location well away from the fleet. Let’s go.”

Seated in the back of a troop transport with more than a few nervous soldiers, Luke leaned back knowing he was free. From down below on the planet, he stiffened when he felt Vader’s rage explode realizing Luke was gone. Still, the Force curled joyfully around him.

Several weeks later, the Emporer announced the kidnapping of the Imperial Prince and promised retribution on his tormentors. Luke was surprised to see a holo of him from when imprisoned by the Inquisitors being used as proof that the Alliance was hurting him.

“It will be all right, Little Skyguy.” Ashoka placed her hand reassuringly on the shoulder of her new padawan. While Luke may have inherited his father's abilities, it was the light of his mother that she saw shining in his eyes.

Luke smiled up at her. At his waist hung two newly constructed lightsabers. One had the kyber crystal from Obi-wan's last lightsaber and the other had the crystal from his father's. Ashoka had found both. Together, they walked out to the secluded meadow near the mountain retreat that Bail Organa had permitted them to use. The rising sun of Alderaan shone over the pair as Ashoka watched Luke practice his katas.

Chapter Text

Luke's eyes snapped open as he went from sound asleep to wide awake in an instant. Staying very still and keeping his breathing slow, he listened to see what woke him. Danger swirled in the Force. Unable to catch the words, Luke heard a couple of low voices in the next room. While the intruders had some danger associated, the real threat was yet to come.

Knowing it was only a matter of time, Luke decided to reveal himself. Before he spoke up, a glow rod revealed his presence. “Freeze. Sit up slowly.”

“Which? Sit up or freeze?” Luke privately kicked his inability to keep his mouth shut. Leia would disapprove.

The intruder was clearly unamused. “Silence. Sit up slowly. If I see a hint of a weapon, I will shoot you.”

“I am unarmed unless you count pillows as a weapon.” Luke's lack of self-preservation once again joined with sass to annoy the intruder. He slowly rolled over and sat up trying not to do anything threatening. He lifted his hands to his head for good measure.

“Be silent.” The intruder who was clad in stormtrooper armor stepped forward and pulled the blankets and pillows away. “What is this place?”

“I thought I was supposed to be silent?” The sense of danger was growing but it was not from the intruder or anyone with him. “We are in danger.”

“I have a blaster pointed at your head, Imp. You are definitely in danger.” The intruder who sneered down at his prey. “What is this place?”

“Are you a Rebel? This is a comfortable prison. I am a prisoner, not an Imp.”

“Caleb, what did you find…Luke?” An astonished Wedge Antilles stepped into the room and stared at Luke with an expression of relief warring with hurt. “What the kriff.”

“Wedge? How did you find me?” Luke could not help but grin to see his friend. Ignoring Caleb who kept his blaster trained on his head.

“Sir, I found the Impling asleep in the bed. There was no one else here. He is trying to claim he is prisoner.”

“Not an Imp.” Luke retorted before turning his attention back to Wedge.

Wedge studied Luke for a moment. “You have to realize this looks bad.”

Luke nodded. “Vader brought me here after disabling my fighter in that battle. I haven’t been able to escape. Even the vents and light fixtures are welded. That airlock-like structure only can have one door open at a time. I have made it past the door on this side only to be hit with gas in the chamber. There isn’t a door panel on this side of either door. The locks are very complicated making them hard to unlock with the Force and are routinely changed. Sunspot would be easier to escape from.”

“Oh sure, Rebel prisoners are always given luxury cells. Is that a stuffed duck poking out from under those blankets?” Luke could practically taste the disbelief and contempt coming off Caleb.

“I don't understand it. Why go to that trouble of catching me just to lock me up in really nice and very secure rooms. Someone went to a lot of trouble setting this up. There were clothes in my size. My progress in schoolwork was even known. Someone close to the Rogues must be giving him information. Vader has not even pushed me to use the dark side.”

“Get changed.” With a troubled expression, Wedge turned to Caleb. “Don't shoot him.”

Hopping off the bed, Luke paused, “I have a really bad feeling.” Quickly ducking into the closet, Luke changed into a set of day clothes. The pants and shirt are made of a soft light green material that are loose-fitting through the arms and legs but tight at the wrist and ankles with a warm dark green tight-fitting vest overtop. Luke only had soft shoes that were good for training but not combat.

Going the door, Wedge entered a signal on his commlink. There was no response. Luke closed his eyes and reached. His sense of danger was growing. He could feel Vader approaching the Executor, but Vader was not the threat. Frowning, Luke asked, “How did you find me?”

“We had received word that Vader was up to something in a set of secret rooms adjoining his. Why?” Wedge tried his commlink again. The outer door could be heard opening. Wedge and Caleb looked relieved.

“I am pretty sure someone set a trap. Something is about to happen.” Staring at the door as though that would reveal who was in the airlock.

Caleb scoffed, “Oh please. The little Impling is just trying to scare us.” Luke rolled his eyes.

The inner door began unlocking. Turning and staring, they waited to see who would emerge. Wedge knew Luke’s intuition was almost always right. While confused by finding Luke living in the lap of luxury tucked away in Vader’s quarters, he had noticed the security was focused on keeping Luke inside.

The door cycled open. Wes Janson and Zev Veers fell into the room having been shoved by a quartet of Inquisitors. Luke caught them with the Force preventing injuries. “Well, well. The Jedi welp yet lives. Pity we cannot play with him.”

“Oh how sad, we have not arrived in time to save Vader's little pet from the Rebels. Although, we were able to prevent their escape. Vader will be so upset. Undoubtedly, the Emperor will be dismayed.” The female Inquisitor looked around at the small band of Rebel with a diabolical smile.

Luke took a deep breath and reached out to Vader. His shuttle had just landed. Luke showed him what was happening. “You must stall, Little One.”

“Aren't you afraid of Vader will do to you? He is going to be mad.” Luke asked innocently. Doing his best to look young and helpless. Knowing that the Inquisitors mission had already gone sideways.

“I will relish his pain. Even more than yours.” Cruel eyes gloated down at Luke.

Luke narrowed his eyes. He was determined to hold on and somehow save his friends and Caleb. “The Emporer sent you. This was all a setup.”

“Of course. Vader may want you alive but the Emperor ordered your death himself. Kill you for destroying the Death Star and interfering with his apprentice.”

“You are framing the Alliance,” Wedge observed.

“Lure you Rebel Scum here. Kill the Jedi brat using your weapons. Exterminate the rest of you vermin. Watch Vader seek revenge on the Rebellion. The fool will never guess the truth. Vader never did figured out our Master murdered his wife. Time to die brat. The rest of the scum can watch your execution.” Raising one of the blasters taken from Wes and Zev, the Inquisitor pointed it at Luke. He had been relaying their words to Vader. The dark storm of Vader's presence was close. Whatever happened, he hoped it would be enough to deflect Vader's wrath from the Alliance.

While the living room was not a small room by spaceship standards, there was still only limited room for Luke to move with several pieces of furniture, four Rebels, and the four Inquisitors. Unarmed and in close quarters, Luke was at a distinct disadvantage. While able to enhance his speed and strength with the Force, he was still much smaller and not the only force-user in this fight.

Luke opened himself to the Force. He succeeded in stopping the first barrage of blaster bolts from reaching him. He dodged a couple blows before a kick from the largest Inquisitor sent him flying into the wall. The room swam making the scene even more chaotic. Piercing his befuddled senses was the sound of a lightsaber igniting followed by a scream.

From his spot on the floor, Luke saw the door open admitting an outraged Sith followed by a couple of officers and several stormtroopers. The room had turned icy cold. The Inquisitors spun to face the furious Dark Lord.

“Lord Vader, we happened to be nearby and prevented those Rebels from murdering your boy.”

“Lies.” Raising his hand, the four Inquisitors were lifted into the air. Instead of strangling them, a series of cracking sounds could be heard as Vader slowly crushed them. A horrified sob escaped Luke. Vader looked at his gentle son for a second. Turning to one of the officers, “General Veers, watch the boy and the Rebels. Have Kix see to Skywalker's injuries.” Stalking out of the room followed by the writhing bodies of his victims, Vader went out to his office to finish slowly killing the Inquisitors. The doors closed behind him cutting off the screams

“Dad?” Zev was looking at his father. The elder Veers stared back with relief and horror.

“Kix will be here in a few minutes.” Reported Captain Piett.

Ignoring his throbbing head and chest, Luke looked around. Caleb was dead having been killed by an Inquisitor’s lightsaber. Zev, Wes, and Wedge appeared unharmed and were ordered to sit on his couch under the watchful gaze of the Imperials. Attempting to sit up, he was pushed back down and told to remain still by one of the stormtroopers.

The doors reopened admitting the clone medic who had taken care of Luke several times. Kneeling beside Luke, he pulled out a scanner and began going over the boy. “What happened to the jet'ika?”

General Veers looked pointedly at his son. “Luke was kicked and slammed into the wall,” answered Zev.

The medic glanced up, “Was it one of you or one of those Inquisitors?”

“Inquisitor.”

Vader returned still angry enough to make a Hoth night to seem as warm as a Tatooine day. He was pushing an equally furious princess in front of him. His presence was less turbulent having vented some of his fury. “What is the boy's condition?”

“Two cracked ribs, a concussion, but otherwise just bruised. I will provide a detailed list of his injuries.” Answered Kix as he continued to apply a bacta wrap to Luke's chest and begin to smear bacta over the boy's more minor injuries. After finishing, Kix helped Luke onto his feet and into a chair so he would not aggravate his ribs.

“Is it safe for him to travel?” Inquired the Sith.

Kix considered for a moment. “So long as he is not the pilot and avoids combat, he should be. It would be best to avoided pressure of crash webbing for a few weeks to give his ribs time to heal. He also requires further rounds of treatment for the concussion. I administered a painkiller that will make him sleepy.”

“Good.” Vader turned and faced the four surviving Rebels. “What is your intentions towards Skywalker?”

Leia glared at Vader's eyes through his helmet with the cold fury of a Hoth blizzard. “To take my brother back home to the Alliance.”

Vader froze for a moment. Even his respirator seemed to miss a beat. “Your what?”

“My twin brother.” Leia's gaze became even icier. “He is mine.”

Vader stared at the diminutive princess seeing Padme in her features. That rage and possessiveness was all his. His beautiful daughter who was a leader of a Rebellion at only 20 years old. His daughter that he interrogated and forced to watch as her home world was destroyed but who remained strong throughout. What a Sith she could be.

“Sidious was behind this. He arranged for information to reach the Rebellion causing the discovery of Skywalker's whereabouts. Simultaneously, he had Inquisitors ready to frame the Rebellion for the boy's death. If Luke remains here, he will be assassinated.”

Leia watched Vader warily. “Who is Sidious?”

Facing his daughter, Vader explained, "Darth Sidious. He is the Sith Master who was behind the Trade Federation’s blockade of Naboo and both sides of the Clone Wars. You know him as Emperor Sheev Palpatine.” The declaration was greeted by stunned gasps from both Rebels and Imperials alike. A muttered “kriff" broke the silence. Wedge glanced over to where Luke was sitting only to see he had fallen asleep.

Paying no heed to the reactions, Vader addressed the surviving Rebels, "I am assuming you had some escape plans in place. Plans that presumably do not involve the trash compactors this time.” Leia snarled. Ignoring her, Vader continued, “Princess wake your brother and come with me. There are a couple matters to address before you escape.”

Turning to his officers, “Captain, make what arrangements you see fit to get them off of the Executor unnoticed. If their plans are inadequate, do what you need to. The boy will be going with them and will need a way to pass unnoticed. General, at ease, your son is not being executed today. Kix, make arrangements for the boy’s treatment.”

“Why should we do what you say?” demanded a very confused and cross princess.

“It is okay, Leia.” Luke put a reassuring hand on her arm.

Vader left his son's living room with his two children following behind. Luke was intrigued. Organa deeply suspicious and hostile.

Vader opened a secret door and led them to a room with hundreds of lightsabers on display. “These lightsabers belonged to Jedi. Ordinarily, you would have traveled to Ilum to seek your own crystals. That is not possible now. You both need a weapon. Close your eyes and listen to the Force. Ask the kyber crystals for their assistance. If any agree, you will know.”

Luke reached out and took down a lightsaber. It was big for his hands. Igniting it, a green blade sprang to life. Leia hesitantly picked up one that proved to be purple.

“Luke yours belonged to Qui-gon Jinn. He was the Jedi who found your father on Tatooine. Qui-gon had been Kenobi's teacher and was considered a maverick by the Jedi Council. He was killed by Darth Maul on Naboo while helping your mother retake the planet. Green is traditionally welded by consulars who seek knowledge of the Force. It suits you.

Leia, yours belonged to Mace Windu. He was a council member who had led the temple on Coruscant. Sidious killed him.”

Vader gave them a moment to examine the lightsabers. Picking up two wood boxes from a lower shelf, Vader opened one. “These holocrons were created by Jocasta Nu and Plo Koon for the instruction of younglings and padewans. One should contain detailed instructions on lightsaber construction. Both of you should consider remaking you lightsabers to better fit your hands.”

Leia watched all of this with suspicion. “Why are you doing this?”

“Many reasons. This is not the time or place for that discussion. You both need to learn to use the Force. Your brother has made it very clear he will not use the dark side and no one remains that I would trust to teach him. I am assuming you are not interested in being my apprentice given our history.”

Captain Piett and one of the troopers re-entered Vaders quarters with a large box on repulsors. “Captain, are preparations complete?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Kix, get Luke a cloak out of his closet so he does not get cold.” The Dark Lord watched as his injured son was lifted by the younger Veers into the box. After speaking with Wedge for a moment, his sister climbed in with Luke. The boxes of holocrons were set on top of the box concealing the twins.

Escorted by Cody and Waxer, the Rebels returned to their stolen cargo shuttle. On returning to Home One, Luke was deposited in medbay while Leia, Wes, Zev, and Wedge endured a rather tense debriefing.

A few days later, after Luke was released from medbay and debriefed, Mon Mothma asked Luke and Leia to meet her in her quarters. Sipping tea, she looked sadly at the twins seeing so much of their mother in them. “It is past time, you learned the truth about your family.”

Several weeks later, Mon Mothma was not surprised to be contacted by Darth Vader.

Chapter Text

General Veers knew not to question orders. So when Lord Vader ordered him to transport an unidentified Rebel from a prison with special instructions not to harm the prisoner, he did not question it. Piett was piloting the shuttle. The stormtroopers were all specified by Vader. It was a remarkably strong team for a single prisoner. Veers privately wondered if it was a wookiee or Mandelorian.

Unfortunately, the Rebel decided to escape not long before their shuttle landed. Piett went to the prison to collect the escapee’s few effects while Veers and his men went to collect the Rebel. There was nowhere in the area to run to. With dangerously cold nighttime temperatures, the Rebel needed found fast. He sent some men with Sergeant Kreel to wait in the shuttle just in case the Rebel tried to steal it.

Tracking the Rebel was easy. There was a deep layer of snow on the ground that clearly showed small human prints heading away. The snow had drifted in places up past Veers’ waist. Since the tracks were for someone much smaller, Veers was confident they would soon catch up. Moving quickly, Veers rounded a pile of rocks to reveal a frozen pond. It was about 50 m across. About a third of the way across was the Rebel pilot. Veers had to thank whoever chose such an awful color for their flightsuits.

Undoubtedly, having believed the pond to be a quick and easy way to cover ground, the bright orange figure was struggling to stand up on the slippery surface. Seeing the Imperial forces, the Rebel became desperate. That desperation only made his attempts more futile. Watching the flailing cursing figure, Veers could only assume he had no idea what to do with ice. After sending one man back for a jetpack, he sent his men to encircle the pond at intervals with orders to keep off. The Rebel's progress was such that getting him when he got close to shore was not really an issue. Either he be taken into custody as soon as he reached the bank or while struggling through the drifts. The diminutive Rebel was already caught. He just needed to realize it.

Sending a quick message to Piett, he let him know what was going on. Veers watched with amusement. The Rebel had finally managed to get up after flailing around for a while. After taking a few steps and falling to his knees again, a loud cracking sound could be heard.

“Lay flat on the ice with your arms and legs stretched out.” Veers called urgently to the Rebel.

Looking back at him, the Rebel yelled defiantly back, “You haven't caught me yet!”

Cursing the foolishness of pilots and young people, Veers took a breath before calling back, “The ice is too thin. It is starting to crack. You need to spread your weight out.” There was another loud cracking sound as a hole opened where the pilot was standing. He managed to fall mostly onto the ice with only his lower legs in the frigid water. Laying on his stomach, he bagan pulling himself out of the water. “Stay down!” Veers ordered.

Cursing, Veers ordered one of his men to prepare to toss a line to the Rebel. Piett had arrived just as the ice broke. The captain, grabbed a sturdy branch that was nearby and slid it across the ice to the Rebel. “Grab it and loop your arms over the branch. If the ice breaks again, it might keep you from going all the way through.”

A stormtrooper threw the cable with a heavy carabiner on the end to the stranded pilot. Veers instructed, “Hook that around your middle. We will pull you off.”

Hesitantly, the Rebel grabbed the line and looped it around himself and the log. His actions showed he had finally understood his situation. “Done.” Called back a young frightened sounding voice.

Slowly, the pilot was tugged closer to shore. To Veers' ire, it was clear that the Rebel was very young. He was starting to hope he would get there without further incident when the ice broke again, only a few meters out. The log and cable were the only things keeping the boy up.

The stormtrooper who had gone for the jetpack ignited it. Grabbing hold of the Rebel, he lifted him out of the water and onto the bank. Once the Rebel was ashore, the team's medic immediately administered a stim shot and wrapped the unresisting prisoner in a couple emergency blankets. Veers ordered his team back to the waiting shuttle. He also ordered a giant of a stormtrooper by the name of Zuke to carry the small Rebel who was just clinging to consciousness.

Back on the nice warm shuttle, the medic did not wait before removing the Rebel's flightsuit and wrapping him in heated emergency blankets, all the while grumbling about the Rebellion recruiting children. A sentiment that Veers fully agreed with.

With his prisoner secured, Veers and a select group returned to the prison to clean up while Piett prepared the shuttle to leave. Assured there was no evidence remaining of what had transpired, he returned to the shuttle. Several blasts from the ship's cannon obscured any traces the shuttle left behind.

On approaching the Devastator, Piett was instructed to land in Lord Vader’s private hanger. The Dark Lord was waiting. Speaking to the men, Lord Vader warned them to say nothing about what had transpired before dismissing the men. He ordered Veers to follow with the box of the boy's possessions. Scooping up the sleeping boy, Lord Vader strode through the hallways unnoticed while carrying the Rebel like he was a precious treasure.

Chapter Text

After carefully closing the access panel, Luke gathered his tools and slid out from under the x-wing. Leaving his equipment on the nearby hoversled, he climbed nimbly up the ladder to the open cockpit. Settling in, he checked with the astromech running diagnostics. With a satisfied humm, Luke started running through a checklist making sure the engine upgrades were working correctly.

“Hey Sunspot! What the kriff are you doing in my ship?” Luke groaned. Lieutenant Anderson was part of a group of pilots who made it their business to make his life difficult. Sunspot was the name of the Alliance’s high-security prison. They insisted loudly that he belonged there.

Taking an instant to release his emotions into the Force, Luke called down. “The final checks after the engine upgrades, Lieutenant.”

“Well, I don't want a nasty little sithspawn like you meddling with my ship.” Anderson snarled back. Luke could not see him but he could hear multiple sets of footsteps coming his way.

“Sir, I am just doing my job. It will only take a couple more minutes to finish up.” Luke called back as pleasantly as possible. Continuing through his checks, he privately thanked the Force that Anderson was a coward as well as a bully. “R5, does everything look good?”

The friendly little droid beeped an affirmative and apologized for its pilot being a nerfherder. “Thanks, R5. I am done up here, if you could just send me your detailed results.” Luke heard a loud clatter from below. With a sigh, he climbed down to the hangar floor.

“Your ship's update is complete Lieutenant.” Luke looked with dismay at the contents of his toolboxes being scattered around. He was fairly certain how collecting them would go. One of Anderson’s buddies from Gold Squadron shoved him making him stumble over a tool. The four pilots had encircled him looking to have a bit of fun.

Luke saw half a dozen pilots head in their direction. He recognized them as some new pilots who had just joined. One of them, a dark-haired man with a mustache looked familiar but Luke could not quite place him. “Problem?”

“Just having a bit of fun with his highness here. Want to play with Sunspot too?” One of Anderson’s buddies offered.

“How about you leave the kid alone?” A dark-haired Correllian pilot suggested.

Anderson looked from Luke to the group of pilots and decided to back down. Kicking some of the scattered tools further away, he stomped off followed by his buddies. Luke sighed with relief. “Thanks.”

“Want some help picking up your tools? I am Hobbie.” One of the pilots offered his hand. Luke hesitantly reached out to take it. Wondering how long their friendliness would last.

“Thanks but I don't want to give you trouble.”

The mustached pilot laughed, he was already piling collected tools onto the hoversled. “It is no trouble. This will go quicker with seven. Name's Biggs.”

Luke's eyes snapped to his face. Now he knew why the pilot was so familiar. Shocked, “ Biggs Darklighter?”

“Hey Biggs, you must be famous. Don't let it go to your head.” Hobbie called out. His voice muffled by the equipment pallet he was recovering some tools from under. “What a bunch of nerfherders.”

Dropping an arm full of tools on the sled, Luke laughed and looked over at Biggs. “He is a shooting star who can't be stopped.”

Biggs spun dumbfounded and just stared for a moment. “Luke?! We thought you dead. I saw the homestead and the bodies.”

Luke tried to speak but the lump in his throat choked him. Tears stung. He had thought he had moved on from the horror but seeing his old friend suddenly brought everything down on him. “I…They.” Luke took a deep breath and tried to compose himself with little success. Suddenly, very afraid that Biggs and the others would hate or fear him.

“This is the friend that you talked about,” Hobbie said quietly, understanding in his voice. Biggs nodded.

The deck officer came over. Looking at the mess and at Luke's face, “Skywalker, take a break after this is cleaned up. Anderson again?”

With help, the tools were quickly cleaned up. Biggs and Luke went to Luke's quarters. His roommates were currently out on a mission. Sitting on Luke's bed, Biggs paused before commenting, “My Father and I had gone to your homestead to trade with your Uncle Owen. We never did figure out what happened. It did not look like the work of Tuscans, slavers, Imperials, or Jabba’s goons. The wounds were peculiar.”

Luke looked down at his hands before retrieving a cylinder from under his pillow. “I am not who you think. You might hate me too. Anderson and his pals call me Sunspot because they say I belong there.”

Taking a deep breath, he began. “My birthname is Luke Skywalker, not Luke Lars. Born during the purge, a friend of my parents faked my death, snuck me to Tatooine, and gave me to my aunt and uncle. Uncle Owen insisted that I use Lars as my family name since Skywalker was too dangerous. Do you remember Old Ben?” Luke paused.

“Yeah, the strange old hermit. He was among the dead. Not seeing why you think I might hate you.”

“His real name was Obi-wan Kenobi. He was a famous Jedi Master and general during the Clone Wars, The Negotiator.” Luke felt Biggs surprise radiating through the Force. “I am force-sensitive. When I was six, he started teaching me. Uncle Owen didn't like it. I was having trouble and needed to learn control. Uncle Ben was even teaching me to use a lightsaber. ” Luke took a moment to center himself. Pushing a button on the cylinder, he ignited the emerald blade for a few seconds.

“When I was twelve, the Inquisitors came. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru refused to give me to them. They killed Uncle Owen. Uncle Ben showed up. He killed three, my aunt got one, and I got one but there were too many. My family was killed. I was taken to Fortress Inquisitorious and thrown in a cell to be trained as an Inquisitor. Vader was notified because my midoclorian count was extremely high, especially for a kid. After I had been there about four hellish weeks, Vader came. I was very sick and weak. He demanded my name. He knew I was lying when I said Luke Lars. So I admitted to my real name. The last thing I can remember in the dungeon was the screams of dying Inquisitors. I woke up in the Devastator's medbay.” Luke paused to gain control of his emotions. Biggs reached over and awkwardly put a hand on his arm.

“Luke you were just a kid. It is not your fault. I saw what happened at the farm. We gave the Lars and Kenobi a proper burial. We didn't know what happened to you.” A choked sob escaped Luke.

“Thanks. They did not deserve what happened. They were good people.

“Turns out my father had been a Jedi during the Clone Wars before he fell to the darkside. His name was Anakin Skywalker. He took the name Darth Vader after his fall.

“My mother is Padme Amidala of Naboo. She died suspiciously when I was born. Vader had believed I had died with her. Ben knew Vader had done terrible things. He smuggled me to Tatooine to keep me out of his and the Emperor’s grasp.

“After taking me from the Inquisitors, my father kept me with him on the Devastator. He really did try in a twisted sort of way to be a good parent. He planned on training me as a Sith even though I did not want to use the darkside of the Force.

“On the next Empire Day, Vader presented me to the Emperor. He agreed that Vader could train me but said I was too soft. He insisted that once I was well enough, I accompany my father even in combat.

“About a month after that Empire Day, even though I was still recovering from the Inquisitors, I was at a big battle between the Alliance and Imperial forces. Left with an escort at the shuttles, I saw a chance and fled. Turning myself into a Rebel officer, I was brought back to the Alliance. I was allowed to remain. I have the dubious honor of being the highest-ranking defector.

“The Emperor put out an announcement requesting any information. He called me Imperial Prince. He revealed that I was Vader’s son saying I had been stolen at birth by the Jedi and had only recently been rescued by the Inquisitors and Vader. He claimed that I had been kidnapped again by Rebels and was maltreated. He showed pictures that he claimed were taken of me as a Rebel prisoner but were actually from when I was in the hands of the Inquisitors.

“It became common knowledge who my father is after the announcement. A lot of people fear or hate me when they find out. The Organas, Admiral Ackbar, and Mon Mothma stood up for me. With their support, most people came to tolerate me after their initial hostility. It has been a few years, now, and typically people treat me well or ignore me. Anderson and pals are an outlier. Jedi Kanan helped me build a new lightsaber and teaches me when he has the opportunity. Over the last year, I have been working as a mechanic. I still dream of getting to pilot a fighter when High Command allows it. I have held the high scores on the simulators since being here.”

Biggs was quiet for a moment. “You were taken by the Masters but you broke your chains, Lukka Ekkreth. The Lars would be proud.”

“Thanks, Biggs.” Luke's eyes stung with shed and unscheduled tears.

“What can I say, we are a couple of shooting stars. We better get back out there before the deck officer comes looking. I still have to tell you about my adventures. Maybe we will get to fly together someday.” Ruffling Luke's hair, Biggs headed for the door with Luke close behind. Hope daring to blossom in his chest.

Returning to his upgrades, Luke was just finishing up the last ship for the day when a deep sense of foreboding rippled through the Force. It was as if the Force was taking a deep breath in preparation for something terrible. He was stepping onto the ladder from the cockpit of the x-wing when the Force screamed. A tsunami of agony and terror swept over Luke, causing him to stagger. Falling to the hangar floor, Luke seized as waves echoed through the Force pummeling his mind. From what seemed a great distance, he could hear running footsteps and someone calling for a medic. He hoped the medic could help those screaming. Dimly, Luke was aware of hands gently lifting him onto a stretcher.

Waking in medbay, Luke was disoriented. He could remember climbing out of Red 5 and the Force screaming. The doctor noticed he had woken up. “How are we feeling? “ After answering questions about what happened, he was told he was going to be kept in medbay through the following day for observation.

Biggs and the dark-haired Correllian stopped by. Biggs introduced his friend as Wedge Antilles. Hobbie also stopped by to visit. Biggs had told him his story. He made an enigmatic comment about Anderson and glitter with a mischievous grin as he left.

That evening, Mon Mothma made a base-wide announcement. A stunned silence greeted the news of Alderaan’s destruction. Luke closed his eyes and wept realizing that is what he felt in the Force. Somehow he knew Leia was alive.

As he was being released from medbay with a strict warning to not fall off any more x-wings, Mon Mothma came in. She and Bail Organa had always been kind to him. Sitting a bag down on the bed, she grimly pulled out a small helmet with the Rebel Starbird in red. “It's time.”

Twenty minutes later, Luke slipped into a vacant seat beside Wedge Antilles as General Dodonna with Leia Organa at his side began the briefing for the attack on the Deathstar.

Chapter Text

Luke had a bad feeling about the mission. It was supposed to be a simple pickup of some small but hard-to-source components. The supplier had often traded with the Alliance. They had always been reliable. The handoff was going to occur at a neutral spaceport just inside of Mandalorian space. The Mandalorians were generally willing to ignore well-behaved Rebels. Accompanied by both Zevs, it was pretty much a milk run.

Luke had volunteered since it was a good opportunity for him to get some clothes. The spaceport had a big thrift shop that was popular with pilots. All he had were some hand-offs that were mostly too big. Making the clothing situation more urgent, both Leia and Threepio were plotting against his favorite yellow jacket. Luke had taken to hiding it in the Falcon. Leia claimed it looked like he had dragged it behind a speeder through a swamp. She had warned him that if he didn't find something acceptable, she would let either the Rogues or Threepio pick.

The milk run went sour from the start. Luke had been separated from Zev and Zev by the crowd. He was too short to see or be seen by his team. While trying to use the Force to locate them, he had walked around a corner only to find instead a couple of high-ranked Imperial officers and a group of stormtroopers including kriffing Scar Squadron. Kreel spotted him immediately and gave chase.

For once, Luke was happy with his size. Darting through the crowd, he would appear to be just another kid. He could slip through gaps that the Imps could not. He sent a quick comm to check on his team. Luke was relieved that Zev Senesca and Zev Veers were both safe.

He could hear a commotion from behind him as the Imps pursued him. Rolling under a hoversled, he waited. Hidden from searching eyes, Luke dared hope he might get away again. Patience was not one of Luke’s strengths. Yet, patience was what he needed now. He waited uneasily. He did not sense danger in the Force but there was a sense of anticipation.

Armored boots appeared. Standing beside it, the boots' owner addressed the owner of the stall in a language unfamiliar to Luke. Even as the sled began to move, so too did Luke. A stun shot struck the floor where he had been lying. Rolling to his feet, his lightsaber sprang to his hand. Alone, surrounded by a sea of armor, Luke was prepared.

Parrying stun shots back into his assailants, Luke spun with the grace of a dancer. Dodging and deflecting, the Force hummed through Luke. A barrage of dozens of tiny darts were pushed aside with the Force. Maintaining his defense, Luke continued his dance pushing his limits. Another hail storm of darts were fired but this time a few found their mark. Gradually, more darts lanced into the small Jedi teen each making it more likely the next would hit. His reflexes and movements slowed as the drugs took effect. Exhausted, it was becoming hard to focus. A large gloved hand caught his right wrist forcing him to let go of the lightsaber. Throwing himself backward, Luke managed to get free but lost his balance and fell. Attempting to push himself into a sitting position, his arms trembled with effort. A stern voice ordered for him to be given space. Space he could not use. No longer having the strength to hold himself up, he sank back to the cold deck on his side. Voices of his captors seemed to come from a distance. He watched helplessly as a blurry figure knelt beside him. A needle slipped into his arm. Sleep gently pulled him under.

Waking was a slow process. He was lying tucked under warm blankets on a comfortable bed. The room was white. Three doors were set into the opposite wall. A desk and chair were the only other furniture. Wherever he was, it did not look like it belonged to the Rebellion and was clearly not an Imperial cell. Moving his right wrist, Luke looked confusedly at a seamless white cuff with a notch revealing a band of blue energy inside. A silvery bracelet without a clasp slid effortlessly around his wrist but was too tight to slip off. Drowsily, he noticed a collar around his neck. The Force whispered that he was safe. Too tired to think about his circumstances, Luke yielded to the insistent call of sleep.

Luke awoke to a door opening. A large armored figure stepped into the room. Luke confusedly tried to understand what was happening. “Get up and get your shoes on. It is time for class. Next time, be ready.” The armor was similar to that of some bounty hunters.

Once standing unsteadily, a stick was used to connect the white cuffs on his wrist together with a blue energy binding. Led out of the room, the guard attached the line connecting his cuffs to those of the prisoner last in a line of similarly bound men who were waiting with another guard. Luke’s addled brain was unsuccessfully struggling to process what was happening. The chain of prisoners was led into a room full of desks. Ordered to take a seat, Luke found himself sitting next to a sever-looking middle-aged man.

A Theelin also wearing armor walked to the front of the room. “My name is Phas Wudo. Welcome to the Mandalorian Empire. This is a program to integrate new members into society.” The man beside Luke drew in a sharp breath. Luke could only sit there bewildered. Maybe this would make sense when he was fully awake and able to think properly. Dazedly, he wondered if it was all some drug-induced fantasy. He hoped to wake in his bunk on Home One.

Chapter Text

Hunger. Growing up on Tatooine, Luke was no stranger to hunger despite his Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen’s best efforts. Recent Imperial activities had decreased some critical supplies coming into the Alliance to a trickle. Food was in desperately short supply. Despite Luke's small size, the half ration he was getting was nowhere near enough. Starting out underweight, Luke had lost weight he could not afford. Various pilots and Leia kept trying unsuccessfully to share with him. They didn't have enough for themselves, so Luke refused.

Han and Chewie had been sent on to work on a new base that was being prepared on Hoth. Luke missed them. Chewie had not been happy about the separation from his cub as he referred to Luke. Han pretended indifference, but Luke knew he worried about him and Leia. They would have enjoyed the raid.

Today’s mission was critical. Intelligence had learned that the small Imperial outpost was a stopping place for a lightly guarded supply convoy. The Rogue’s mission was to relieve them of anything useful. They had borrowed a couple of y-wings and some extra pilots for the mission. If the force was with them, the plan was for a couple of the convoy freighters to be seized.

For once, the intelligence was spot on. Three freighters crammed full of medical supplies and food had been acquired. All available space in the fighters had been stuffed with rations. After loading the ships, the pilots feasted on stormtrooper rations that did not fit. The outpost’s crew were locked up with their comm system damaged. They would be able to escape eventually, but not until the Rebels were well away.

Leaving atmosphere in his overloaded fighter, Luke was content. Like a tooka in a patch of sunlight, Luke was looking forward to curling up in his cockpit once hyperspace was reached. The weeks of the food shortage had taken a toll on his strength. After the efforts of sorting through supplies and loading ships, he was exhausted. He was sure he would be stiff and hurting tomorrow, if not later today. Maybe he could get permission to visit the hot springs near the base. For now, though, he was comfortably sleepy from fatigue and a full belly. Maybe that is why he missed the warning in the force.

Ahead, the freighters and y-wings jumped to hyperspace, leaving just the Rogues. Before making their jumps, the x-wings needed to navigate through a large debris field left from a Clone Wars battle. The 501st and 212th had ambushed a Separatist droid fleet under General Greivous over the planet. Artoo had been telling Luke about it on their way to the outpost. He had been with Luke's father leading the Republic’s starfighters during the attack. General Kenobi had been in overall charge and would have been on the bridge of his ship, The Negotiator. After the war, the outpost was located on the planet to salvage what was worthwhile and allowing what was not to burn up in the atmosphere.

Passing through the field, there was a sudden bright flash and Luke's x-wing lost power. Turning and looking behind him, Artoo could be seen powered down in his droid socket. Luke realized he had been hit by an ion canon. A short distance away, Wedge’s ship drifting in the debris also without power. Reaching through the force, Luke could feel the rest of the squadron. Based on their lack of motion and turbulent emotions, it was clear the entire squadron was drifting. After unsuccessfully trying his backup comms, Luke pulled his emergency kit out. He curled up in the sleeping bag to wait. The y-wings would not arrive at base for the better part of a day. Until then, it was unlikely the Rogues would be missed. It would be several days at best before there was a hope of rescue.

Luke was painfully well aware that the ion cannons were almost certainly a trap. That the freighters and y-wings had been allowed to pass suggested the x-wings were the targets. Given Vader's obsessive hunt for him, the trap was meant for his squadron with the convoy as bait. The trap must have been set on the most likely routes through the debris. Since they had chosen a less obvious route on the way in, the trap had not been tripped.

There was nothing Luke could do but wait. He couldn’t even talk to Artoo. After a while, Luke's exhaustion caught up with him. He slipped away into sleep as his fighter drifted powerless.

An unknown amount of time later, Luke awoke to his canopy being opened. The jolt of a tractor beam of an Imperial tugship had failed to wake him as did his ship being deposited in the hangar they had left earlier. Two stormtroopers stood on his fighter with blasters trained on him as a technician opened his fighter. To make things worse, Luke's stomach was rebelling against the Imperial rations. His sleeping bag restricted his movements rendering resistance futile. A single stunshot removed any remaining chance at resistance.

The technician with the ease of experience quickly freed the unconscious pilot from the crash webbing. One of the stormtroopers effortlessly scooped the pilot still wrapped in his sleeping bag out of the cockpit and passed him off to another trooper waiting on an equipment lift. After lowering the platform to the ground, the prisoner was handed over to another team. The lift was raised to collect the troopers on top of the x-wing and the technician before driving to the next x-wing in line.

Luke was carried to a table where he was quickly and expertly searched. His bulky flight suit was removed after numerous hidden pockets were discovered. Among the objects collected were three vibroknifes of various length, a lightsaber, a blaster commonly used by the Rebels, two concealed smaller blasters, charges for the blasters, lockpicks, splicing equipment, an assortment of tools, bits of wire, bolts, two thermal detonators, screws, a carved wood necklace, a smoke bomb, some explosive gel, a small medkit, detonators for the gel, stolen ration bars, a canteen, a commemorative holo, a collection of empty ration wrappers, and an unlabeled pill bottle.

By the time they finished, Luke had started to stir. Clad only in shorts and a sleeveless shirt, the youth was beginning to shiver. He was moved to a waiting shuttle where he was dumped leaning on a bench beside a dark-haired Correllian pilot. His wrists were cuffed over his head to a bar running the length of the wall. An extra length of chain had to be used because the barely conscious pilot was too short.

The officer in charge came over after the search was complete to check through the items taken from each prisoner. He made especial note of the pills and flagged their presence to the mefic. About to walk away, his eye caught the carving. Picking it up, he gazed in disbelief. As a young man, he had been assigned to guard the junior senator from his homeworld, Naboo. His protectee, Padme Amidala, had always worn a handcarved necklace that looked exactly like it. Sadly, he reverently wrapped the necklace and added a note about its presence. He took a closer look at the items taken from the same pilot. The holo was of Padme Amidala at her funeral. The officer had heard the beloved queen was seen as a martyr by the Rebellion.

That night, the officer was unable to sleep thinking about the past. In six months, he would defect to the Rebellion while on shore leave. One of his questioners after defection would be a small brown haired princess who looked so much like his late queen. She was interested in a missing young x-wing pilot. That still was in the future. For this night and many nights to come, he pondered his choices and his future.

Alerted about one of the prisoners having pills, a medic collected the bottle. A quick look had revealed several dozen small white capsules. Once on board the Executor, the pills would be analyzed. The medic, Kix, did not have the necessary equipment to do so at the outpost. Having taken a quick look through the box, Kix also noticed a large pile of Imperial ration wrappers, a familiar necklace, and a familiar lightsaber. The prisoner had not been positively identified but he was suspected to be the rebel pilot that Lord Vader was tearing the galaxy apart trying to find. Kix knew exactly who was under the mask and could make an educated guess who the pilot was. Not for the first or last time, he questioned the wisdom of the Senator and his General having offspring.

Kix entered the shuttle where the dozen Rebel pilots were held in preparation for transport to the Executor. All of the pilots looked underweight. Finding his patient, Kix was confronted by the sight of a small, very underweight youth who was trying unsuccessfully to hide his nausea. Kix went to a cabinet holding cleaning supplies. Taking a bucket, he returned the youngling.

Holding out the pill bottle, Kix asked “What are these? There is no label or markings." The pilot bit his lip but said nothing. Kix tried a different approach, “Are you being treated for an illness?” The boy looked uncomfortable but said nothing. “I will have them analyzed and a blood sample. If you are hiding a health issue or drug abuse, I will find out.” The boy managed to look defiant despite being scared. It was easy to see both the General and Senator in the boy. If he was anything like his parents, he would stubbornly refuse to answer if he was hiding something.

“How many ration bars did you eat?”

The boy shrugged, “I don’t know. 10 maybe?”

Kix looked with exasperated disapproval. “When?” Pulling out his scanner, he ran it over the boy. He would report to Lord Vader in person about an unexpected result. “You can’t digest that many and there are supplements added.”

“Not long before leaving the surface.”

Typing a quick message on his commlink, Kix waited for confirmation from Lord Vader about his plan for treating his son.

Opening his medkit, Kix pulled out a hypo and loaded it. Pushing down the boy's sleeve, he injected the contents. “Don't do that again. Only eat one even if you are really hungry. Even that is a lot for someone your size.”

Turning to the stormtrooper who had just sat down on the seat across from his patient, he handed the confused trooper the bucket. “You’re going to need this.”

“What was that in the hypo?” The mini-Skywalker asked.

“It will make you vomit up what is still in your stomach. You are not able to digest 10 ration bars. There are supplements added to the bars that will make you very ill if you absorb that amount. Never do that again.”

Kix was called away to tend to a laceration. Ignoring the horrified stormtrooper who just realized why he had been handed a bucket. Holding a bucket for a sick Rebel brat was not what he signed up for.

Chapter Text

Nicknamed Paradise Base, the base was in a hot humid miserable swamp on an uninhabited planet called Dagobah where the Rebels went after evacuating Yavin. The planet was still fascinating to Luke even if he loathed it. Who would want to live in that slimy mud hole?

While on patrol, he and Wedge had found a small earthen dwelling. Crawling inside, he found a tiny set of tattered robes similar to Uncle Ben's lying empty on the small bed as though their owner had vanished from within them. The dwelling seemed to be long abandoned. There was an air of sorrow and mystery permeating it. Strangely, it felt familiar like he should know the place. He also felt like he was being watched but no one was around besides Wedge. For an instant, he thought he saw a small shimmering transparent blue form on a branch of a tree. Wedge thought it was his imagination.

Red Squadron was glad to be leaving the planet for good. They were especially glad to get away from the insects. Tatooine had many reasons to be considered a hellhole, but massive swarms of disease-carrying biting insects were not one. Sand was preferable.

Within a week of arriving on the planet, Red Squadron had been constantly down at least a pilot thanks to their tiny winged tormentors. Fortunately, there were no deaths in Luke's squadron or among his friends. Many were not that lucky. Luke was still a bit achy, weak, and had little appetite after being released from medbay a few days earlier. More accurately, released from the mess hall that the medics had commandeered. Being stuck in a closely packed makeshift medbay with 59 other extremely sick Rebels had quickly joined nearly getting drowned and eaten by an Imperial garbage monster on the list of experiences not to repeat.

Luke did not know if it was the insects and disease that drove the Alliance off the planet or some other reason. Surely, the next planet would be better. It was named something like Joth. Han had assured Luke there were no biting insects even if it was a just bit colder. If Luke was really lucky, he might even get to see snow. As a desert child, the prospect had exited him.

The last transports were away. The X-wings squadrons acting as the vanguard were finally ordered to head for the rendezvous. While flying far enough from the planet to jump, Luke sensed danger. Calling a warning to his squadron, Luke told everyone that he felt danger approaching. Doing his best to ignore the skepticism from some pilots, he readied for the jump to hyperspace. Just needed a few more minutes. Of course, a couple of star destroyers just had to drop out of hyperspace right before they could jump. Luke had been able to avoid the blaster fire. Another X-wing exploded right in front of him, pelting his ship with debris as he escaped to hyperspace.

Safely in hyperspace, Luke and Artoo began checking for damage. All readings looked good but there was a slight vibration that was concerning. Until they landed, there was nothing that could be done except monitor the situation. Exhausted, Luke settled in for a nap leaving Artoo to mind the fighter. It would be a long flight.

Alarms blaring and Artoo shrieking at him jolted Luke awake. Making an emergency return to normal space had left Luke far from an inhabited system. A series of diagnostics revealed the extent of the problems. Unable to make repairs, all they could do was wait for rescue. Thank the Force, they still had comms and life support. After several tries, Artoo made contact with the Alliance. The communication officer, Jon Cassius, on Home One assured Luke that help would be coming although it could be a day or two.

The communication officer notified the watch officer about Red 5’s plight and his need for a pickup. After giving him the details excused himself for a few minutes. Jon Cassius had another message to send.

Far from a system, they drifted. The lights in the cockpit were out. Only a small emergency lamp provided illumination. Behind Luke, Artoo shown in the darkness like a beacon. It was unnerving to be all alone between systems except for Artoo. It felt so empty in the Force. Being stranded was not the only problem. To make matters worse, Luke was starting to run another fever. Slowly, the hours crept by. Luke did not notice when his eyes slipped shut.

Waking up was not pleasant. Not only were they still stranded but Luke was unquestionably ill. The exhaustion from earlier was worse despite his nap. Everything was aching. He felt like he was freezing when he knew that was not the case. Pulling the medkit from its storage compartment, he was unsurprised that there was nothing for reducing fevers. With the outbreak on base, certain desperately needed meds had been removed since they were needed for the sick.

Even though he didn’t have an appetite, he pulled out a ration bar and tried to eat some knowing he needed his strength and not knowing how soon help would come. He gave up on the ration after only a couple of small bites. It hurt to swallow water but he managed to get some down. He pulled his helmet off and unfastened his harness to get comfortable.

Artoo still did not have any updates about a rescue ship. He decided to try to take another nap. Closing his eyes, he fell into an uneasy sleep. He dreamed of a beautiful dark-haired woman who reminded him of Leia but older. Her brown eyes were very sad. She was wearing a pale yellow embroidered gown. Her brown hair was in a complicated style with a headdress. At her throat, she wore a japor snippet. She felt so familiar as though he had once known her presence well.

She sat with him in a field looking towards a waterfall. Luke could hear the hum of insects and the distant rumble of falling water. He could smell the vegetation and her perfume. The breeze caressed his feverish face while he could feel the blades of grass under his hands and poking him through his pants. It felt so real.

At her gentle urging, Luke rested his head in her lap as she stroked his hair humming a strange lullaby. For a long while, he lay there at peace. Content, he eventually drifted into a peaceful doze in the dream world and a deep slumber in the real one. Removing a necklace from around her neck, she fastened the wood carving around his throat. The words, “There’s still good in him,” echoing in Luke's slumbering mind.

Hours continued to creep by. Artoo kept watch as Luke slept. Deeply worried about his young human, Artoo watched his slowly worsening condition but was powerless to help. Further attempts to contact the Alliance failed. Artoo tried to beep a frantic warning when a ship dropped out of hyperspace but the internal comms had failed. Soon an ion canon disabled what few systems were still functioning including the faithful droid. Seconds later, a tractor beam locked onto the drifting starfighter with a jolt.

Captain Piett loved the Executor. He was proud of his ship and crew. While he had private doubts about the Emperor, he respected Lord Vader and saw serving under him as a privilege despite the inherent risk. Carrying a datapad with an urgent communication, he approached the sinister figure standing by the viewport.

“Lord Vader, there is an urgent message from one of your agents.” Holding the datapad out for the Dark Lord, Captain Piett was careful to hide his nervousness.

Turning quickly, his cape billowing dramatically around him, Darth Vader took the datapad. Reading quickly through it, he looked down at Piett. “Captain, what is the current location of the Avenger? It should be returning from Kuat.”

Efficiently providing the required information, Piett awaited further orders. “Good, have Captain Needa proceed to these coordinates with speed. Route a call to my office with the Captain in 30 minutes.” Lord Vader turned and stalked off the bridge.

Captain Lorth Needa knew special orders from Lord Vader were an opportunity and a danger. After coming out of hyperspace to see the crippled x-wing, he gave a sigh of relief. A single burst from an ion cannon made certain the pilot would not try something foolish. Once it was snagged in the tractor beam, Captain Needa headed to the hanger bay. Checking his service blaster was set to stun and making sure the hypospray in his pocket was ready. The Captain watched as the damaged fighter was deposited on the floor.

As soon as it was down, the company of waiting stormtroopers encircled the craft weapons aimed and set to stun. Walking at a measured pace, Captain Needa was concerned by the lack of movement in the cockpit. Lord Vader had been most particular, the pilot was to be unharmed. The hangar crew had maneuvered a platform lift beside the stricken craft. Two stormtroopers and a tech were waiting when Needa arrived. Nearby a medic was on standby.

Stepping onto the lift, the technician raised it allowing the first view of the cockpit. The young pilot was sitting slumped in his seat with his crash webbing disengaged and his helmet in his lap. A medkit had burst open where it had fallen to the floor. To Needa's relief, the pilot was breathing and there was no sign of blood.

The technician opened the canopy and stepped back. The sudden change in temperature and pressure woke the pilot who gazed up at them bewildered. The two stormtroopers had their blasters pointed at the pilot. The pilot looked very unwell. Needa made a note to have the medic check once the prisoner was secure. Lord Vader would not be pleased if the boy worsened.

“Lean forward with your hands on the back of your head Rebel Scum. Do not attempt anything.” The small blonde pilot complied. Needa snapped stun cuffs roughly on the boy's wrists after tugging his arms behind his back. “Attempt to remove the cuffs and they will shock you.” The Rebel was quickly gagged and blindfolded. The Captain removed the hypospray from his pocket and emptied the sedatives into the prisoner’s neck. He gestures to the technician to pull the pilot out of the cockpit.

Watching his unresisting prisoner, Needa was pleased. Everything was going perfectly. Despite the prisoner’s compliance, Needa had no intention of relaxing his guard until Lord Vader had his prize. This pilot had a history of unpredictable behavior and had proven to be quite adept at escaping. Leading his prey to a large ring bolt recessed into the floor, Needa shoved the small pilot to his knees. An additional length of chain secured the pilot to the ring bolt. The Rebel promptly collapsed on his side.

Captain Needa, asked the medic to run a quick check of the prisoner. Dr Aster pulled a scanner out and immediately frowned. “I can give you a more detailed report but his condition is concerning. Most immediate concerns are a high fever and his oxygen levels are low. May I speak with the prisoner?”

The Captain apologetically had to deny the request. “Lord Vader’s orders, the prisoner is not permitted to speak.” He should have known this was too easy. The pilot was a known force-sensitive with suspected ties to the Jedi. While too young to be a knight, the boy had to be assumed to be dangerous even if he looked as threatening as a tooka kit.

Needa was hoping the Rebel had not brought a contagion on board either accidentally or on purpose. He would not put it past some of the splinter groups but it would be out of character for the main portion of the Alliance. If it was Needa’s decision, the pilot would already be in a quarantine pod. “Do what you can. Do you know what he has?”

Impatiently, Aster shook her head. “I will need to run tests, especially without any history.” Opening her medkit, she began pulling out a selection of meds and some empty vials and swabs.

After collecting her samples, a trooper was sent to run them to the lab. Dr Aster was in contact with the chief medic. The chief medic was not taking chances with a high-profile prisoner of Lord Vader’s or risking an outbreak on the ship. Turning back to the prisoner, she removed his flight gloves and pushed his left sleeve up. Numerous tiny red marks that looked suspiciously like bug bites of varying ages were all over his arm. She also noticed the pilot was underweight. Having set up supplemental oxygen and given standard treatments for fever and unknown illnesses, all she could do was wait and watch. She wished she could speak to the patient.

Shocked awake by the sudden opening of his canopy, Luke found himself looking into the wrong end of a blaster. The bright lights did nothing for his throbbing head. Dazed, he confusedly tried to figure out how he ended up in his X-wing cockpit with stormtroopers pointing blasters in his face when he had just been in a meadow. Too ill to effectively resist, Luke complied with orders from an officer. With his arms bound behind his back, blindfolded, and gagged, Luke’s chances of escape would have been low even if he wasn’t sick. Every breath hurt. Being gagged just made it worse. Weak, short of breath, and dizzy, Luke doubted he could run or even walk off. All he wanted was to curl up in his bunk on Home One with his stuffed duck. Feeling something pricked his neck was just unfair.

Pulled from the cockpit, he drooped in his captors' grasp. Whether from his illness or what he was injected with, Luke did not know. Thinking about what was happening was too much effort. Pulled a short distance away, he was pushed to his knees. Dimly, he was aware of orders being given to fasten him to a ring. Collapsing onto his side, he didn’t resist as he was searched. Distantly, he felt needles being stuck in him and the beeping of a scanner. No longer caring what was happening, he let himself drift. Maybe he could return to the meadow. He unaware his consciousness was not the only thing now floating.

Lord Vader’s personal shuttle touched down in the hangar bay. Captain Needa was terrified he would be blamed for the Rebel brat's condition and relieved he would no longer be responsible for him. The Captain followed his Lordship to where the young pilot was being held. Every smallish item in the hangar had at various times been floating. The stormtroopers had to anchor themselves to the deck. The deck crew had removed as many hazards as possible. Thankfully there were no serious injuries but the hangar was in shambles. Dr Aster believed the pilot had lost control when he was delirious.

Surveying the disarray, Lord Vader was displeased. “Captain, what is the meaning of this?”

“My Lord, the Rebel is undamaged. When we recovered the pilot, he was already very sick and running a high fever. At times, he has not been quite lucid and caused objects and people to float. Dr Astra has been tending to him since his capture. The illness is carried by biting insects found in some swamps. Based on his condition, it is believed that the Rebel had been sick for a prolonged period of time. This datapad has a detailed report on his condition.” Vader took the proffered datapad. Skimming through the document, the temperature dropped.

“Have the boy taken to the biobed in my shuttle. Dr Aster, please verify you have everything needed for a four hour flight. Consider yourself transferred to the Executor effective immediately. Captain, have his R2 unit loaded on the shuttle after fitting it with a restraining bolt. It can be quite troublesome.”

“You have done well Captain. I look forward to seeing the Accuser’s performance from the retrofit once you rejoin the fleet.” Stalking back to his shuttle Vader watched as a nervous stormtrooper carried the sleeping Rebel. Dr Aster followed behind composing a mental list of what she needed for her patient. She was relieved to see his gag and the stun cuffs were finally removed.

Waking several days later, Luke felt warm and oddly comfortable. Looking around without bothering to move, he realized had no idea where he was. That should have been alarming but Luke felt too safe and content to really care. Besides the ridiculously soft bed that would make Chewie look small, there was what looked to be a large floor-to-ceiling viewport covered with heavy black drapes embroidered with tiny sparkling stars. Vaguely, he thought he probably should get up and try to figure out where he was, but he lacked the energy. Pulling his stuffed duck closer, he drifted on the edge of sleep. Luke did not notice the fearsome-looking figure watching over him. The gently whispered command of sleep carried him off.

Knowing his son was finally safe in his keeping and beginning to recover after several harrowing days, Anakin felt at peace. Watching his sleeping child, tears pooled in the corner of his blue eyes. For now, everything was right with his world.

Soon, he would need to deal with the depur. It would not be long before Sidious learned his chains were broken. In an hour, Captain (soon-to-be Admiral) Piett would be meeting with him, followed by General Veers. There was much to be done. High on the list was a competent medical and engineering team evaluating his old injuries and the abomination of a suit. While watching Luke, he had begun making plans.

Chapter Text

Empire Day: Leia’s birthday and the birthday of the Empire. Growing up in a pro-Republic family, the day had always been an odd paradox. It was a day of mourning and celebration, laughter and sorrow, and hope and despair. Approaching the first Empire Day since the destruction of Alderaan, Leia found herself pondering everything she lost and gained. Since those chaotic days, she had not had a chance to process the destruction of Alderaan, what happened to her on the Deathstar, meeting Luke, their escape, and the destruction of the Deathstar. Every day brought its own struggles and never was there time to just sit, think, and feel. Watching Luke tinkering on his X-wing, Leia made her decision.

Mon Mothma had been a friend of her family both biological and adopted since before Leia was born. Leia knew she was worried about her. Still, asking for some time to get away was difficult. Leia was not one to admit she needed help or time to reflect on events. Mon readily acceded to her request. Luke was even easier to persuade.

The campsite was lovely. Luke’s reaction to the waterfall and pool of water at its base was priceless. In spite of his childish enthusiasm about everything new (which was everything), she always found Luke’s presence restful. After they met, she had quickly realized that they were part of a whole. She knew Luke sensed it too even if he did not understand. Even at her worst moments, he warmed her and brightened her darkness. He shown with the brightness of the twin suns that he had grown up under. She would let no one dim that light or separate them.

The first day had passed quickly. Setting up camp had not taken long. The rest of the day had been relaxing. No one had been in a hurry. No Han Solo. No meetings or unending paperwork demanding her attention. No Han Solo. No crises to be dealt with. No Han Solo. Just a day spent in a pretty wooded valley with no immediate responsibilities or concerns beyond making sure her companion did not find new and interesting ways to injure himself. Over the months since they met, she had come to have a great respect for the Lars. Given Luke’s propensity for finding and being found by trouble, it was remarkable that he had survived alive and free on a harsh Hutt-controlled world. The Rogues joked Luke could run into a wampa on the tropical shores of Mon Cala or a colo clawfish on Mustafar. He then would want to help the extremely lost predator get home.

That night, they had put their sleeping bags down by the fire to talk before turning into their tents for the night. Leia had delighted Luke with hot chocolate. He had never had it before and loved it.

Trading stories about growing up, they watched the fire. Content, Luke curled up in his sleeping bag as the night became cooler. Leia watched as he started to drift off. A distant sound of shuttle engines intruded into the serenity of the night. An uneasy whine escaped Luke as he stirred weakly but was unable to keep his eyes open. Moving to sit beside her brother, she stroked his hair while projecting calm through their bond. Soothed, trusting her entirely, he relaxed as the engine sounds grew ever closer. Leaning forward, the whispered command of sleep pulled him under.

Yellow flames shown in her eyes, as she rose smiling to greet their father. It was time to go home.

Chapter Text

The Ghost had landed on Home One several hours earlier. Hera had shooed Ezra and Sabine away before she and Kenan went to meet with High Command. Ezra stood in line in the mess hall waiting patiently. He was pleased to see they had energy drinks available. Since the Alliance would not spend money on such an indulgence, they must be donated or looted from somewhere. When he reached the drink counter, the droid refused his request for one citing a new rule. Jedi were not permitted caffeinated beverages until they were 21 years old. The droid unhelpfully did not explain the new rule. Settling for some juice, he retreated grumbling to a table. It was Luke’s fault. It had to be.

Red and Gold Squadrons had raided a large shipment of supplies for an elite Imperial garrison. They had commandeered several large freighters. Some supplies were vitality important like a large quantity of high-quality bacta and other medical supplies. Some were luxuries like bedding, datapads, energy drinks, and caff.

A couple of boxes of hot chocolate mix, a case of bantha milk, a new pillow, and a soft blanket had been stashed away by Red Squadron to surprise their orphan when they returned to Home One. On landing, they were enthusiastically greeted by their little blonde menace. Luke was delighted with his new blanket. It was really soft and fuzzy. Perfect for a child to curl up in.

Luke’s parents had perished during the fall of the Republic. His aunt and uncle had died when an illness ravaged Tatooine when he was seven. After being evacuated, the child had been placed in stasis, originally, because he was too ill to survive transport to a safe medical facility. He had been kept in stasis longer when it was discovered Darth Vader was seeking the boy.

Due to Luke’s unusual force-sensitivity, he could not be placed with a family on a friendly planet. The risk of Inquisitors noticing him was too great. It was judged that he was better off remaining with the main rebel cell. The few remaining Jedi trained the boy when able, but he was far too young to take on missions. Red Squadron ended up with the boy. One of Red Squadron’s newer pilots, Zev Veers, was especially close to the orphan.

Given the boy's boundless energy and knack for mischief, he kept the pilots' lives interesting. At only eight, he already had the highest simulator scores in the Alliance. Clearly, he had inherited his father’s piloting skills on top of his force-sensitivity. After retrieving Luke from another pile of crates or from some other place he absolutely should not be for the umpteenth time, there was always speculation about how the Lars managed especially on a planet like Tatooine.

The day started like any other on Home One, until the complaints started flowing in. Mostly occurring on Home One, fleet-wide reports started trickling in about strange issues with artificial gravity. Most reports were of small objects drifting about. On Home One, it was even worse. Larger objects were not staying put. This unfortunately included hapless crew trying to sleep only to find themselves or their bedding drifting off. There was also an odd vibration affecting the entire ship. Maintenance insisted that the artificial gravity was fine. The reports kept coming in. Maintenance was baffled.

A former member of the GAR suggested it was Force ossik. Currently, there were only two known force-users in the fleet. Only one was powerful. Following the new lead, the cause of the incidents was quickly identified. Someone had thought it was a good idea to give two cans of energy drinks to a Jedi youngling. Predictably, said youngling was now hyper.

Lieutenant Zev Veers checked out a Y-wing. Packing up the now sedated child, he hurried to get away from the fleet. Their destination was an uninhabited planet in the system with a breathable atmosphere. Setting up camp, they stayed on the planet until the following day to be sure Luke’s caffeine and sugar high had worn off. Zev wearily returned to the fleet with an exhausted and somewhat cranky child leaving behind a planet that had experienced a truly unusual natural disaster.

In light of events, High Command forbids Jedi under the age of 21 from having caffeinated or alcoholic beverages. There was no repeat of the incidents.

Ezra listened in stunned silence when Sabine recounted the incident. She made a point of clearly enjoying an energy drink that he was no longer allowed. Deciding she was pulling his leg, Ezra asked Kenan about it. He confirmed what happened as improbable as it seemed. He had not heard of anything like that happening before. Luke is a Skywalker. Skywalkers are just different, as Rex could attest. Further, creche masters had too much sense to let their charge have large amounts of sugar or caffeine.

Chapter Text

Pulling a carton of blue milk from the squadron’s refrigerator, Luke watched the argument on the other side of the pilot’s lounge with amusement. Han was accusing Wes and Hobbie of being behind a prank. Watching the ongoing argument, Luke gleefully messaged Leia. The vent located over the pilot’s seat on the Falcon had been filled with pink glitter. When the fan kicked on, it had showered Han and the cockpit with glitter. Chewie was working on repairs to one of the guns when it occurred sparing him getting caught in it. Luke had been in the navigator's seat. Han had not approved of Luke’s laughter.

Han had a side business acquiring items for Rebels including having purchased glitter for Wes. He was unaware it had been confiscated after Hobbie had accidentally dumped glitter-laced confetti on Leia. His apologies that it was meant for Wedge Antilles did nothing to calm her fury. She had been terrifying.

Leia walked in just in time to hear Wes trying to defend himself by insisting that Princess Leia had confiscated their stash. The trio did not notice her presence as she leaned on the counter next to Luke smirking. Han indignantly accused them of blaming her Worship. Comms going off around the room put an abrupt end to the quarrel.

Half an hour later, the Falcon swept from the hangar bay in the company of the Rogues. A supply mission had run into trouble with pirates.

The rescue mission started out well. The Rogues had made short work of the pirate fleet. After landing on Falstaff Station, Luke and Wes went to meet up with the survivors from the original mission waiting at Quickly’s Tavern and to speak with the station administrator whose office was located over the cantina. Han and Chewie meanwhile began preparing to transfer the supplies to the Falcon. Wedge was overseeing the remaining pilots patrolling the area around the station.

Falstaff Station could aptly be described as a hive of scum and villainy. Han was naturally right at home. Luke and Wes were not. Luke was on edge. He felt danger but given their location, there was some everywhere. The weight of his lightsaber clipped to the inside of his jacket and the blaster on his hip were reassuring. He could practically feel the eyes of slavers watching him speculatively.

Luke had never met the station’s administrator. Jon Night was described as an elderly, rotund, cowardly, villain of a man. Han had cautioned Luke not to trust him at all. Night was a very different sort of miscreant than Luke was accustomed to. Han thought they should wait for him and Chewie or take one of the guards from the earlier mission. Luke agreed to ask one of the guards to accompany him.

Reaching Quickly’s, Luke and Wes found the other Rebels. Sergeant Poins agreed to accompany them. Upstairs, Luke found Night playing sabbac with his assistants. All three men were worse for drink. The odor of alcohol was so strong it seemed possible to get drunk breathing the air. Night was not interested in business. Instead, he suggested Luke and his companions have a cup of sack and join them for a game. Luke politely declined and attempted unsuccessfully to have a serious conversation. Night was more interested in praising the virtues of drink. Eventually, Luke excused himself and left having decided he was not going to have a sensible conversation.

Wedge commed Luke to warn him an Imperial shuttle was inbound declaring a mechanical emergency. He did not believe the X-wings were spotted. Han only needed a little longer to finish loading. Luke and Wes headed back towards their X-wings. Sergeant Poins gathered his team together to meet Han at the Millennium Falcon.

Walking quickly, the two pilots were nearly back at the landing pad when they were attacked. Slavers came from both sides trapping them in a corner of an alley. With no cover available, Luke stepped forward igniting his lightsaber. Wes dropped to a knee behind Luke with his blaster drawn. The slavers laughed and jeered. The slaver captain, a weequay, scornfully ordered his men to stun them. Not for the first time, Luke wished he looked more imposing.

Deflecting stun shots back at the slavers, Luke held his ground. Wes shot past Luke taking down pirates. Clipped in the leg by a stun shot, Luke crumpled to the ground. His lightsaber disengaged and rolled away. Seconds later, Wes was hit in the chest.

Struggling to stay conscious, Luke lay helplessly twisted awkwardly on his side. He could hear the sound of marching boots. Panic shouts erupted from the slavers as lethal blaster fire scythes through them. Hoping it was Sergeant Poins, Luke knew deep down it was not. Unable to move his head for a better view, Luke could only wait.

“Captain, the pirate’s victims are only stunned,” a modulated voice announced. Luke’s heart sank. “It is a man and a boy.”

“Look at this, there is a lightsaber. I knew I heard one.” Another modulated voice called out.

“Wait, it looks like the one that belonged to our Jedi General.” A third voice commented. The voice was familiar. It sounded like the clones who had joined the Alliance.

Large hands gently turned Luke onto his back. A stormtrooper with the insignia of a medic was kneeling over him. “Easy kid. Sir, the boy is only paralyzed. The stun shot must have barely grazed him. Juvenile human male non-standard. He is not 100% human. The species mix is unclear. Estimated age 10-15. He has a number of mostly healed injuries but nothing recent besides some bruises.”

The medic went to Wes, “Stunned. Human male in his early 20s. Uninjured.”

An officer walked up. “Who had the lightsaber?”

“It was a few feet away. Most likely the boy. Its location was consistent with being dropped when he fell. Also, the man was holding a blaster set to kill. The boy's blaster is undrawn.” A clone-sounding stormtrooper responded.

“Sir, some of the pirates are only stunned. Either the pirates accidentally shot each other or stun shots were deflected back at them.”

“Deflected fire is consistent with the commotion we heard.” The Captain knelt beside Luke and turned his face up. Luke felt startled recognition flickered through him. His hand passed over Luke’s face closing his eyes “Medic, sedate the boy for transport. Make sure he is unharmed.”

Luke could feel the medic’s hands move his jacket revealing his upper arm. A prick was quickly followed by an intense drowsiness. He was deep asleep when a confused stormtrooper pulled a partial bag of pink glitter from inside his jacket.

Several hours later, Lord Vader was impatiently waiting when Captain Piett landed a lambda shuttle on the Devastator. Unknown to all, they had a small droid stowaway.

Chapter Text

Luke was not fond of Echo Base. He was constantly cold if he was not taking refuge in the Falcon. Luke never thought he would want to go to Hoth to warm up.

Still recovering from a serious respiratory illness that he had picked up on a mission with the Rogues, Luke was only cleared for very light duty. The average recovery time was 3 months but could be as long as 6. The first two weeks were spent in quarantine wanting to die of misery followed by a month still trapped in quarantine wanting to die of boredom.

All but three of the pilots in the squadron had ended up extremely ill. Two were twileks who are naturally immune. Zev Senesca had been in sick bay with a broken leg after falling off his X-wing while preparing for the mission. In hindsight, he was the lucky one even if he had to let the bones in his left leg heal naturally since the proper treatment was unavailable.

While feeling better overall, Luke still needed to use an inhaler a couple of times a day and had another for when he had breathing trouble. He was also forbidden from training, working on his X-wing, or pretty much anything that he wanted to do. Leia had ordered Artoo and Threepio to keep an eye on him. Both took their duty very seriously. Between them, the two droids successfully prevented Luke from doing anything active or that might agitate his breathing. Luke complained that they were determined to prevent him from having fun. Leia was unsympathetic. Besides being a spoilsport, Threepio was quite the fussbudget. He had lost track of the number of hot water bottles and cups of tea the droid had shown up with. His pillow was very thoroughly fluffed.

Since there was a shortage of pilots, Luke and the other recovering Rogues were flying non-combat missions in freighters and transports until cleared for combat operations. Soldiers were sent to handle any physical activities. They all missed flying X-wings but it was better than sitting at a desk or trying unsuccessfully to stay warm in their bunks. Luke suspected the recovering Rogues were really being sent on these missions to get them away from the base. The extremely bored pilots had been going stir-crazy and were slowly taking everyone nearby with them.

The mission was straightforward. Drop off fresh troops at an outpost. Pick up those whose rotations were finished. Return to Hoth. Straight forward and boring. At least on Tatooine, there was always the possibility of something trying to kill you to keep things somewhat interesting.

Coming out of hyperspace, Luke felt uneasy. Approaching the atmosphere, Luke noticed a powerful storm moving through the area. Blaming the storm for his disquiet, he began preparing for landing after making sure his passengers knew to be strapped in with their gear stowed. Luke may be an excellent pilot but he had plenty of respect for the weather. Tatooine’s sandstorms could easily destroy unwary craft.

Coming in, he notified the base of his arrival. The officer warned about the dangerous winds and provided details about what to expect.

Acknowledging the conditions, Luke prepared to land. The officer reiterated that it was not a landing that a novice pilot should attempt. Undoubtedly, assuming he was a green recruit.

Smirking, Luke responded, “Good thing, I am not a novice”

The winds attempted to throw the transport off course but Luke had little trouble in countering them. Touching down smoothly, he commenced shutdown procedures. His job was done until it was time to leave. Leaning back to stretch in his seat, Luke wondered if the outpost had anything good in their mess. Locals often traded with outposts so each tended to have a different selection of food. Checking both inhalers were in his favorite yellow jacket, he turned and left the cockpit.

Opening the door to the cabin, Luke barely dodged a stun shot to the face. A second went over his head. He only had an instant to take in the scene ahead of him. The newly arrived troops were on the floor stunned. A group in rebel uniforms were standing guard over the fallen troops. Based on the “Freeze Rebel Scum” that he was greeted with, Luke assumed they were not rebels.

Darting back into the cockpit and sealing the door, Luke knew he only bought himself a bit of time. After quickly sending a transmission explaining the situation, Luke climbed into an air duct. Wriggling out of the ductwork by the escape hatch, he opened the hatch while the now empty cockpit was being assaulted.

Jumping to the ground, Luke ran across the hangar deflecting and dodging stun shots and the occasional kill shot. Reaching the exit, Luke realized his jacket was too bright to hide in the rocky terrain. Regretfully leaving it behind, Luke headed for the relative safety of the rocks. Pursued all the while by blaster fire and cries of Jedi, scum, and brat. Already gasping for breath, Luke knew he needed to use his rescue inhaler as soon as possible.

Within minutes of leaving the hangar, Luke was soaked by an icy downpour. On finding a temporary shelter in the labyrinth of rocks, Luke was dismayed to discover that he had left his inhaler in his jacket. All Luke had was his blaster and lightsaber. Usually, he would have some smoke bombs, explosives, and thermal detonators but he had not been prepared for combat. He also did not have extra charges for the blaster, rations, or water.

After wandering for hours with the sound of the hunt around him, Luke found a sheltered area inside of a deep crack that intersected another at an angle. Stormtroopers would be unable to follow him. With luck, Luke would be able to rest for a while. Every breath hurt and he was wheezing. Wet and losing body heat, he desperately needed to warm up and dry out. The small spot should trap some of his body heat. Without supplies, Luke knew his chances of surviving long were slim. Too tired to meditate, Luke curled up. Exhausted, Luke dozed.

A warning from the Force woke Luke. A wolf-like creature was staring at him from the passage. It gave a piercing cry that was answered by others. Not intimidated by the miserable boy, it crept into his hiding place. Luke had his lightsaber up in time to kill the creature before it could reach him. Knowing the commotion would have given away his position to more of the predators, Luke slipped from his hideout.

In the distance, cries of the wolf-like creatures echoed through the night. Pack hunters and skilled climbers, the predators were well-adapted to hunting through the challenging terrain. The stormtroopers hunting for the escaped pilot were far less suited. Worse, the freezing rain was slowly coating everything in a treacherous layer of ice.

Cocking his head as though he was listening to something no one else could hear, Darth Vader motioned for his men to halt. Ordering for silence, he moved his team to a concealed position.

The cries came closer. There was a deep crevice in front of their position. The sound of rushing water could be heard rumbling in the depths of the crevasse still audible over the pounding of the unrelenting rain. His respirator inaudible over the water, Vader stood hidden in the shadows of the merciless landscape.

Barely visible, movement could be seen through the gloom on the other side of chasm. The darkness concealed the numbers and the nature of the creatures moving amongst the shattered stone. Reaching the far side, the one in the front leaped over the chasm. Its progress was abruptly arrested midair as though seized by an unseen hand. Drawn inexorably closer by the unseen hand, the figure of a young bedraggled human soon became visible. The disappointed pack stopped on the far side.
Soaking wet and shivering with his breathing was coming in desperate gasps the boy struggled weakly. Barely able to articulate the words, the blonde youth wheezily demanded to be let go. Lacking the strength to continue struggling, the boy sagged in the invisible grasp.

Vader reached out and gently lifted the boy’s head revealing his face. Ordering a shuttle and a medic to their location, he returned his attention to the boy. His son was clearly in distress. Freezing and having trouble breathing, the boy was completely unresisting when his father pulled him into his arms with an uncharacteristic tenderness.

Soon a shuttle hovered over the chasm. The broken ground was too rough for it to set down. Its ramp was lowered to rest on the edge of the chasm while the shuttle hovered. Carrying his limp son on board, Vader carefully placed the boy on the medical bed. The medic stepped forward to examine the young rebel. Watching with a jealous gaze as an oxygen mask was slipped over Luke’s face, Vader ordered the shuttle to return to the Executor. Soon his son would be securely in his quarters after a visit to medbay.

Chapter Text

Over the nearly evacuated Rebel base, a battle raged. As the final transports attempted to escape, X-wings sought to hold off the swarms of TIE fighters seeking to destroy the fleeing Rebels. Streaks of light flashed through the night sky. Occasionally, explosions lit the night. A carelessly aimed blast from one of Black 3’s cannons missed a fleeing X-wing when it twisted to the side. Hitting the forest below, vegetation was ignited by the shot. High winds fanned the flames until the small brush fire turned into an inferno racing across the landscape.

Alliance Commander Luke Skywalker pulled his damaged starfighter out of an uncontrolled plunge. There would be no time to make a proper emergency landing. The X-wing’s damage was too severe to stay airborne after colliding with Vader’s TIE. With only limited control, all he could hope for was a survivable crash. Currently, over one of the many fires, ejecting was not an option. He needed to coax the wounded starfighter to remain aloft long enough to get clear of the fire and find an opening in the trees before hitting the ground. Both s-foils on the left were severely damaged. It just needed to hold together a bit longer. Internal comms were among the many systems not working preventing Luke from coordinating with Artoo.

The area beyond the flames drew closer with agonizing slowness. With a sigh of relief from its pilot, the X-wing made it past the fire. Luke aimed for a clearing in the distance. If he could make it that far, he had a chance of making a semi-controlled landing. Branches from the trees were now clawing at the underside of the X-wing. With a sound of rending metal, the lower damaged s-foil drooped before snagging on a large tree. All semblance of control gone, Luke had a glimpse of branches outside his canopy before the X-wing tumbled gracelessly into the ground. The wreck slid to a stop between two trees resting on the side where its wings had crumpled.

Slowly, Luke stirred. His left leg, chest, and head were in agony. The canopy in places was bent inward and in others torn into jagged shards. He suspected he had struck his head on the canopy frame where it bent inwards. For once, Luke was grateful for being short. A large chunk of transparisteel had stabbed into the back of the cockpit just above his head. Getting out was going to be difficult. He was going to have to avoid impaling himself on the remains of the canopy when he unhooked his harness. With the angle the ship was at, he was going to fall out of his seat to the side which was now on the ground. On the bright side, he was not high up. On the downside, he likely had a concussion, cracked ribs, and possibly broken leg without much hope of rescue while suspended over shards of transparisteel. He also had not heard from Artoo. He feared his friend was destroyed. He tried to not dwell on fears of finding the spunky droid crushed by a tree.

Luke did not know if he or Vader screwed up resulting in the collision. Luke could sense him nearby but was unable to pinpoint his location. His limited experience was not helped by his blinding headache. More immediate problems to blame was not knowing where Vader was currently or where he himself was or how he was going to free himself from the wreckage. With the base lost, help was not likely.

Taking a moment to meditate, Luke attempted to calm himself and clear his mind. He needed his wits about him if he was going to survive. His immediate problems were getting clear of the fighter, stopping the bleeding, setting his leg if necessary, and figuring out how to swipe a ship. With the severity of the damage, the X-wing was at risk of exploding or catching fire. Immolation was not how he wanted to die. Which reminded him that there were fires started by the battle. The region’s seasonal drought had turned it into a tinderbox with high winds to spread the flames. If he was roughly where he thought, there was a ridge of rocks a few kilometers to the west. The stony ground offered little fuel for the fires. The numerous caves would provide shelter. Springs were common eliminating the danger of dehydration. He kept extra rations on board in case of extended missions. There was also a large medkit that he had liberated from an Imperial outpost a few missions back.

A sad warble by his head announced the survival of R2-D2. Not able to see the tenacious droid from his position, Luke grinned in relief despite his pain as he greeted his friend. Artoo began studying the wreck determining how to free his pilot all the while giving a running diatribe on Skywalkers and crashing. Luke’s spirit lifted at the scolding. Carefully, the little droid began clearing debris from below his pilot. Not only was his friend safe, he trusted him to get him down.

Darkness was beginning to fall. Luke was struggling to stay awake. Whether due to the concussion or exhaustion, he was unsure. He failed to notice the growing cold was not due to nightfall or take notice of a rhythmic kish-kosh drawing closer. Furious beeps from Artoo woke Luke from his light doze. A deep voice ordered Artoo to stand aside. Luke recognized it from Cymoon-1. This time there was no stolen AT-AT lumbering around to save him.

Tendrils of the Force slithered over him seemingly checking him for injuries except that made no sense. Vader had made it clear he wanted the Death Star pilot and Kenobi’s apprentice dead. When the tentacles curled around him, he was aware of a strange sense of possessiveness and concern radiating from the Dark Lord. His confusion only deepened when Vader finally spoke. “I have you now. I will have you free in a moment but you will not attempt to escape Young One.”

“I am not going anywhere with you!” Luke shouted. Artoo beeped his agreement.

Exasperation leaked through the Force. The Sith apparently decided to ignore his protests. Keeping his hold on Luke with the Force, he ignited his lightsaber and cut away the damaged canopy. Unfastening the crash webbing with the Force, Vader lifted Luke free with surprising gentleness. Setting him on his feet, Vader seized his right arm before releasing his Force hold.

“Can you walk?” He demanded. Luke defiantly took a step before nearly falling when his injured leg collapsed. Vader caught him and pushed him down on a nearby rock. The order of “Stay there,” was oddly reminiscent of Leia.

Vader peered into the damaged fighter before digging through the storage compartments with the Force whole ignoring the boy’s indignant protests. The cockpit was too small and damaged to allow easy access for his much bigger body. Finding water and food rations, he tossed one of each to Luke. Continuing his search, he pulled out the clearly stolen medkit with the Imperial cog on the side. Retrieving a stim shot and painkillers, he stalked over to where Luke was seated on the rock restrained by a tentacle of the Force around his waist.

“Take them. We need to move. There is a fire heading in this direction. Will you be able to walk with assistance?” Vader demanded.

Luke glared. “I think so. Why are you doing this?”

“This not the time boy. Take the meds or I will make you.” Vader’s tone was stern. He clearly expected immediate obedience.

Luke stared up at the menacing Sith. “Why? You’re just going to torture and kill me.”

An exasperated noise escaped Vader’s vocoder. “You are not going to be tortured or executed. Take the meds now. We do not have time for this.” The Dark Lord stepped closer clearly intending to follow through with his earlier threat. Luke hastened to inject the stim shot and swallow the painkillers. He did not intend to find out how Vader would force him to take them.

“Good. Try to keep up." Vader pulled Luke to his feet and headed away from the crash.

Luke decided to risk a question. “Where are you taking me?”

“A shuttle will meet us to take us to the Executor but we need to get out of this valley first. It is about 4 km from here to the landing site. The forest and the crosswinds are preventing a shuttle from getting closer. Come Little One.”

Vader pulled Luke along at a quick clip although Luke was certain he was going slower than he wished due to Luke’s injuries and smaller size. The consideration was puzzling. Vader kept a hand around his left arm but was supporting him using the Force. Their difference in size made it the most effective means of keeping him upright. Several times, Luke stumbled but Vader prevented him from falling. The stim shot helped but his leg was bad. He was also still bleeding even though it had slowed. Artoo followed behind.

A few times, Luke thought he heard a catch in Vader’s breathing or heard a grating sound from Vader’s right leg. Perhaps, he was not the only one injured. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. Deep down, Luke knew he was not going to escape anytime soon, if ever.

A roaring sound was getting closer. Smoke started to blow around them. Luke slipped on his emergency oxygen mask and activated his flight suit’s life support. Vader started moving at a much quicker pace forcing Luke to jog to keep up. The painkillers and stim shot only helped keep Luke on his feet. They did not address his injuries. It was not long before he began to flag.

The temperature was rising. While Luke’s flight suit was good for keeping him warm in a cool cockpit, it was not good for preventing overheating. It was also not designed for running. Vader tugged urgently urging him to keep moving faster. Luke was running and relying on the Force for more speed. This would have been simple if he was uninjured. As it was, if Vader was not holding him up with the Force, Luke would have collapsed. All he could do was keep moving one agonizing step at a time. He was beginning to be nauseous and dizzy from his head injury on top of his other problems.

Ahead, the trees thinned and the valley opened onto a plain. A lambda shuttle could be seen waiting about a half kilometer away. Vader spoke into a commlink without slacking his pace. Luke was only dimly aware of the exchange. His strength was spent, it was taking all of his concentration to keep moving. Staggering, he struggled to just keep moving. Vader paused only to scoop him up. Tucking him under an arm, Vader ran racing the wildfire. Luke had let out a pain cry when snatched up. He now hung limp. His oxygen mask dangling unheeded.

Ahead, the shuttle lifted into the air and rotated to give easier access to its opening ramp. An army officer could be seen standing just inside at the ramp controls. With a thud, Vader landed on the ramp quickly followed by a rocket-propelled astromech. General Veers immediately pressed the switch to close the ramp even as the shuttle continued its ascent buffeted by winds. Shoving the barely conscious Rebel into a startled General’s arms, Vader orders him to fasten the boy in and have the medic see to him before heading to the cockpit.

Luke slowly woke many hours later with the taste of bacta still in his mouth. He was in pain still but it seemed distant. He felt strangely floaty like he had been given powerful drugs. A cloth seemed to be covering his eyes. The air had the scent he associated with medbays. He was unable to move his left leg. Still trying to make sense of the situation through the mental fog, Luke felt a large hand gently touch his head before the command of sleep echoed through his groggy mind.

When he awoke again, the room he was in was dark, lit only by a chronometer sitting on a table by the bed. He was no longer in a medbay. The bed itself was far too soft to be on an Alliance ship or base. The blankets were softer and the sheets smoother than any he had touched before. He was still very drowsy and his thoughts sluggish. Slowly, the events of the crash and flight from the fire came back to him. He knew he should be scared or at least concerned but instead, he was strangely safe and content. It was reminiscent of when he was little. Aunt Beru would tell him stories while sandstorms raged. He would feel safe knowing that nothing dangerous could reach them for the lethal sandstorm was watching over the children of the Desert.

Out of Luke’s line of sight, Vader watched his son drift on the edges of sleep. His boy was finally safe. He would not let anyone harm or take Luke. Not even his Master. His Master The depur would never get the opportunity to put chains on his child, the first freeborn Skywalker in generations.

Chapter Text

It had been a quiet few days. Luke was pleased. It meant the Rogues had a chance to rest and get caught up on maintenance. While he loved flying, he had been growing concerned about the ships, droids, and pilots in his squadron. They had been running missions back to back for weeks. Everyone was exhausted and desperately needed rest. The ships and droids needed repairs and routine maintenance. If the run of missions continued, it would have resulted in tragedy. Inevitably, someone would have made a mistake from exhaustion or something preventable would break. It was dangerous enough even when not flying unmaintained equipment while running on caff and stims.

Wiping his hands on a rag, Luke decided to head to the mess hall for dinner. Unfortunately, dinner was probably more of the recently discovered GAR rations that were older than he was. They were edible if not enjoyable. So far, they had not made anyone ill. That was something.

With a sigh, Luke chucked his rag into his toolbox. Walking across the hangar, Luke is pleased to see signs all of his pilots were taking advantage of the downtime to work on their ships. With the personnel shortages, there was nowhere near enough support crew. It forced pilots to do repairs and maintenance that ideally would be handled by mechanics. He would need to check after dinner to see what progress was made and who would need assistance. Not everyone had been trained by a Peli Moto or an Uncle Owen.

The mess hall was partially full. Wes Janson, Hobbie, and Zev Senesca were seated at one of the tables half-heartedly poking at their rations. After collecting a container of blue milk and a ration pack, Luke slid into a seat beside Hobbie.

“Hey, Boss. Are we sure this is actually food?” Wes inquired.

“That is what they keep saying,” Luke responded with a smirk. Opening his milk, he took an appreciative sip.

Hobbie grimaced. “Maybe we can steal some real food.”

“My Aunt’s womp-rat brisket would be great right about now.” Luke commented to get a reaction.

Hobbie looked appalled. “I sure hope you are joking about that.”

“Nope. Womp-rat is a common meat on Tatooine. It is pretty good if cooked right.” Luke grinned at the looks of horror. Maybe he should bring up bugs…

Luke’s commlink beeped interrupting. “Sorry, I am being summoned.”

“What did you do now?” Wes asked.

Zev looked up, “Please, do not suggest womp-rat as a meat to our superiors.”

Luke only laughed before finishing his milk. He returned the unopened ration before leaving the mess.

Entering the conference room, Luke was pleased to see Leia was also there. She looked worried. Mon Mothma, Admiral Ackbar, General Syndulla, and General Madine were also present. The mood was grave. Luke could not think of anything he or his team had done lately to merit that response.

Mon Mothma waved him to a chair with a sad smile. “Please have a seat, Commander. A serious matter has come to our attention.”

Luke sat down nervously. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Do you know of any reason why Vader would be interested in you or have such a high bounty with the stipulation alive and unharmed?” General Madine inquired.

“No, Sir. On Cymoon-1, Vader clearly intended to kill me. He did offer to spare me if I led him to the pilot who blew up the Death Star and watch as he killed him. He acted like I was an insignificant pest.”

“Did General Kenobi say anything else about Vader or either of your parents?” Mon Mothma asked thoughtfully.

“He told me that Vader and my father had been pupils of his. He said that Vader betrayed and murdered my father. That he is now twisted and evil. More machine than man. Ben did not say anything about my mother.”

“Do you know anything about your mother?” Mon Mothma asked.

Swallowing, his voice betrayed his grief. “No, Ma’am. Ben did not speak of her. My aunt and uncle only knew she died giving birth to me. I don’t even know her name.” Leia put a hand on Luke’s arm.

“Commander, I know this is a painful discussion. Unfortunately, it needed to be asked. General Madine, would you take over, please?”

“Skywalker, what I am about to reveal cannot be spoken of to anyone else. Do you understand?” General Madine demanded.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Recently, an agent searched the quarters of Darth Vader on the Devastator. There were large amounts of files on you including all of your medical records, reports of every mission you were on, and the recordings from the cameras on your X-wing. There were notes of unsuccessful efforts to get records from Tatooine. There were holos that had been taken on Alliance ships, bases, and during missions. He even has information on your clothing size and food preferences.” The general paused. He brought up several holos of a woman dressed in the opulent styles of Naboo. “Do you know who this is?”

“No, Sir. She doesn’t look familiar.”

“This is Padme Naberrie Amidala. She was an elected Queen of Naboo and later a senator at the fall of the Republic. Does that name mean anything to you?”

“Yes, Sir. Princess Leia has spoken of her several times.”

“You never heard Kenobi or your guardians speak of her?”

Luke considered. “My Aunt mentioned a woman who had visited with my father. They only met that one time. Aunt Beru said she was very kind and beautiful. She thought her name was Padme. Aunt Beru had thought she might be my mother but did not know for sure. It was years before I was born.”

“What did they tell you about your father?”

“Uncle Owen told me he was dead and had been a navigator on a spice freighter. I was told I could not talk about or use my family name because he made enemies. It would put us in danger. Ben later told me he was a Jedi Knight, a great pilot, and a general during the Clone Wars.”

General Syndulla spoke up, “Your uncle was trying to protect you. If the Empire or other interested groups had learned Anakin Skywalker had a son, they would have abducted you and killed your family.”

“I understand that now. I wish I had known then so I could thank them.” Leia gave Luke’s hand a squeeze.

General Madine began flipping through holos on the screen. Some were taken at a distance in a hangar or mess hall. There was one of the award ceremony on Yavin-IV. He paused on one taken with light amplifying equipment. It showed Luke curled up on his side asleep in a bunk. “This one is disturbing. A spy was actually inside Skywalker’s quarters while he was asleep. The time stamp confirms it would have been taken on Home One while his roommate was away.” Luke had always felt safe in his quarters wherever they were. “Do you keep your door locked?”

“Yes, Sir. Wedge and I are both careful about that.” Luke decided not to mention that had less to do with fear of intruders and more to do with his squadron being pranksters.

“A couple of immediate suggestions, replace the locks. Make sure only you, Antilles, your droids, and Organa have access. Second, have your astromech keep watch when you sleep.”

“I am sure Threepio would be happy to stand guard when Artoo is unavailable,” Leia suggested with a smirk, well aware that Threepio would drive Wedge mad.

“We are going to add some extra security cameras to try to catch anyone trying to get in. There is evidence that your quarters had been searched repeatedly.”

“We have not gone through everything retrieved from Vader’s files. It is clear Vader has at least one spy near you. So far, they have only watched and reported. We have to assume that it is possible that the spy could move against you directly by either attempting assassination or abduction while with the fleet. It is also possible that a mission could be compromised putting your squadron at risk.”

“It is odd, Vader has never shown this level of interest in even experienced Jedi Masters or High Command. Why the obsession with a boy with barely any training? This seems personal.” Admiral Ackbar observed.

“The alive and unharmed stipulation with threats if harmed seem personal as well,” Leia added.

“Kenobi’s words to young Skywalker also confirm suspicions that Vader was a Jedi. Does anyone know of Kenobi’s other apprentice? I only recall Anakin Skywalker. Skywalker had a padawan but Vader is clearly not a togruta.” Mon Mothma asked the room.

After an hour of discussion, Luke was dismissed. He did get the concession to give Wedge a heads up that their quarters had been searched and security was being tightened.

That night, staring at the underside of Wedge’s bunk while listening to the sound of his breathing, Luke could not get the holo of him sleeping out of his mind. The idea that Vader had it framed in his hyperbaric chamber was beyond weird and creepy. It made no sense. It seemed like something done by a parent with their children, not a random enemy.

The soft hum of Artoo was reassuring but sleep eluded Luke despite his exhaustion. A sense of peace slowly wrapped around him. It reminded him of when Aunt Beru would hold him when he was upset. Smiling gently, he closed his eyes as he relaxed into a deep sleep untroubled by bad dreams.

In his hyperbaric chamber, Darth Vader opened his messages. His spy watching his son reported that the video feed was complete. He also noted that security was being tightened Activating the feed, he was pleased when a grainy video appeared showing his son lying awake in his bunk. The boy seemed unable to sleep. Reaching out along their bond, he was able to sense his son's turbulent feelings. Gently, he brushed his son’s mind soothing his worry away. Watching the screen, he smiled as the boy relaxed and eventually closed his eyes. His child's presence curled contentedly against his like a loth-kit with one of its parents. Instinctively, his little boy was accepting comfort from his father.

In a few weeks, The Executor would be finished along with the secure rooms prepared for his son. His son would soon be where he belonged. He was under no delusions that his feral child would easily accept his new life. It would take time but his rooms were escape-proof and properly monitored.

Chapter Text

It was a simple mission. Luke and Ezra crouched behind a pile of packing crates. Well supplied with ammunition, they waited for their intended targets. It was bitterly cold. The crates provided them some shelter from the biting wind. Luke’s hands were going numb. Even years away from Tatooine, he remained a child of the desert. Better suited to the desert heat than winter cold.

Right on schedule, their targets came into view. Striking rapidly, the pair turned and ran. The sounds of pursuit close behind. Dodging around crates being unloaded, the young Jedi fled. Luke narrowly avoided being caught by a large dark-haired female sergeant.

Breathlessly, they took refuge on a high platform. Confident in their escape, they relaxed. Grinning, the pair waited for their pursuers to give up.

Time passed. The soldiers gave up. A sound prompted both Jedi to look behind them. Dread pooled in Luke’s belly when he looked up at the tall figure looming over him.

They were marched through the base by their captor. Reaching a ship, a general stepped out accompanied by a fierce droid. “It seems we have a couple of volunteers to clean the carbon scoring off the hull.”

“Do I want to know?” Hera asked.

Kenan Jarrus responded. “They ambushed some soldiers with snowballs.”

“It was Ezra's idea!” Luke protested.

“So, you thought it would be fun.” Ezra retorted.

“Chopper can make sure they do a good job on the carbon scoring.” Hera's comment was greeted by groans from the pair of miscreants.

Chapter Text

Alliance Security and Intelligence hated Life Day. They hated the whole holiday season. They especially hated the people making their lives more difficult in the name of festivities.

Shivering, General Madine glared down at the mysterious pile of packages. They had come through an organization, Family Ties, that helped Alliance and Imperial family members remain in contact and allowed care packages to be sent. All messages and deliveries were checked and logged by Intelligence and base Security before being passed on. These gifts were already searched, analyzed, and repacked. Nothing untoward had been found. That did not make them any less problematic. If anything, it raised more questions.

Given the recipient, Madine had expected to find an explosive, a tracker, or poison. That is why they were currently ten kilometers downwind from Echo base in a tent. Madine had only arrived on the scene after the items were examined. His team had been thorough in their search. The items had been declared safe just inexplicable. A sergeant was preparing to load them on a sled for a tauntaun to pull back to base. He wouldn’t have an opportunity for answers until tomorrow.

The Millennium Falcon landed along with Rogue Squadron. Their mission had been a success. There was only one injury. Commander Skywalker had attempted to jump onto an overhead beam for a better shot only to have it collapse under his weight. His left arm and leg were both broken in multiple places. Captain Solo had taken the opportunity to fly the X-wing back to base leaving the Falcon in Chewbacca’s capable hands.

Madine had a request waiting to speak with Antilles, Organa, Solo, Chewbacca, and Skywalker after landing. To his annoyance, Skywalker’s trip to medbay delayed the meeting until he was available.

The more he thought of the delivery, the more it bothered him. Skywalker did not have known family or close friends outside of the Alliance. Madine knew from communication records that Skywalker was not in contact with anyone. Yet, whoever sent it had known his size, tastes, and interests. He was really hoping there was a simple explanation. He doubted that.

Two days after the Rogues and Falcon's return, Madine finally was able to deal with the package issue. The chief medic, Kix, would not permit Skywalker out of medbay but agreed to let Madine speak with him and the others in the doctors’ lounge. One of Madine’s aids wheeled the crate containing the mystery into the medbay’s lounge. Madine had instructed that Skywalker and his allies not be informed of what was going on. He wished to judge reactions firsthand.

The Princess was primly sitting in a chair with an air of regal annoyance. Solo was slumped nonchalantly on a couch. Antilles was sitting on the other end of the couch. He looked curious but unconcerned. The Wookiee, Chewbacca, brought the young Commander in. Skywalker was going to be put in a hoverchair but Chewbacca had protested. It would be easier if he simply carried Skywalker. Placing Skywalker carefully on the other couch with his legs stretched out, Chewbacca sat down on a nearby bench. A nurse droid brought a couple of blankets and pillows for the patient since he was only wearing medbay pajamas and to prop his injured arm up. The droid left after reminding Skywalker not to stand.

“Commander, are you in contact with anyone outside of the Alliance?” Madine demanded.

Skywalker looked puzzled, “No, sir.”

“Do you have any family? Your records say you do not.”

“Not that I know of. I only ever knew the aunt and uncle who raised me.”

“How were they related?”

“My father's mother, Shmi Skywalker had married Cliegg Lars after my father, Anakin Skywalker, had left Tatooine to join the Jedi. Cliegg Lars had a son Owen by a former marriage making him my father's stepbrother. Both Grandmother Shmi and Grandfather Cliegg had died before I was born. I was raised by Owen Lars and his wife Beru Whitesun. Neither had close family living.”

“What about your mother?”

“I do not even know her name.”

“Your father's father?”

Luke shifted uncomfortably, “Unknown.”

Madine fixed a stern eye on him. “You do not seem certain.”

“According to the elders, Anakin Skywalker did not have a father. He was said to be a child of the Desert.” Luke now looked extremely uncomfortable.

Madine looked like he swallowed a lemon. “That is ridiculous.”

Skywalker replied innocently, “I did say unknown first.” Off to the side, Antilles and Solo looked on the verge of laughter. Madine was certain he heard a stifled amused sound escape the Wookiee.

“I would advise you to treat this matter seriously. Are you in contact with anyone outside of the Alliance?”

“Only as part of official duties, Sir.” The sir sounded as though it was tacked on to soothe ruffled feathers.

“To be clear, you are neither in contact with any family or friends outside of the Alliance nor in contact with anyone outside who knew your parents?”

“No, Sir.” Skywalker sounded perplexed about the questioning.

Organa intervened before Madine could continue. “General Madine, what is this about?” She demanded.

Madine looked displeased by her interference. “Antilles, bring that crate over to your commander.”

“Luke, it is addressed to you through that family connection charity, Family Ties.” Antilles commented inaccurately.

“Family Ties is not a charity. It is for profit and run by the Hutts. They claim it is a charity so people use the service.” Organa corrected. Solo rolled his eyes from the couch.

“Just sending that box would cost a small fortune. I have heard pilots complain about how much sending anything costs. I am assuming it has been checked for booby traps.” Solo commented. He was sitting up now looking thoughtful. Chewbacca made a concerned-sounding comment. “You said it, pal.”

“Care to translate?” Madine inquired irritably.

“Chewie said it was unlikely that moisture farmers would know anyone able to send that or know anyone who could. The only people on Tatooine with that kind of money are involved with the Hutts or slavers. It would make more sense as a trap or bait from the Imps.” Solo explained for everyone who did not understand Shyriiwook.

“We had come to the same conclusion.” To Madine’s amusement, Antilles jerked away from the crate where he had been preparing to help Skywalker open it. Skywalker leaned away. “It was thoroughly searched before being brought to Hoth. It was then searched and tested away from the base before being brought here. Nothing suspicious was found beyond its existence.”

“That is why you were questioning Luke about his family,” Organa interjected thoughtfully.

“Quite. Does anyone here know anything about it?” As expected, no one had any insight to offer.

“So can I open it?” Skywalker asked hopefully.

Madine nodded. “It is yours and has been clear.”

Skywalker grinned before trying unsuccessfully to open it one-handedly. He was clearly trying to hide his excitement. “Wedge could you help, please?”

Antilles nervously opened the lid like he thought a wampa was going to jump out. Inside were a number of packages that had been re-taped. Reaching in, he pulled out one and set it on Skywalker’s lap. Skywalker awkwardly opened it one-handedly revealing a large canister of hot chocolate mix. His face lit up.

“It was tested for poison or biological contaminants. I still do not recommend consuming it.” Madine advised.

“I know you love hot chocolate, but do not drink that, Luke.” Organa agreed. Skywalker looked sad. The next couple of packages contained shelf-stable food items including chocolates from Naboo.

Wedge passed a bulky package to Luke. On opening, it revealed a brown synth-leather jacket. The style was popular on the core worlds with young men. “Nice. It looks like it should fit,” Luke observed stroking the material.

“May I see that?” Organa asked. Taking a closer look at it and the tag, she explained. “This type of leather is resistant to blaster fire, cuts, and is really durable. It is popular with senators and courtiers who worry about assassination.”

A pair of tall black boots was in the next package. Luke excitedly put them on. They fit perfectly.

Opening the next package with Wedge’s assistance, revealed a toolbox with a wide selection of high-quality tools for use on droids or ships. Luke grinned gleefully. He was clearly itching to try it out.

Next up, Skywalker opened a small case full of data chips with a data pad. He scanned the titles with delight. “They are engineering and mechanics texts for the most part along with some histories. There is also a guide for Artoo’s model and a T-16 Skyhopper.”

“Great, that will keep you entertained in medbay,” Han commented.

A large package contained a medkit with a portable scanner and high-quality supplies.

The next to last package was a large polished wood case. Opening it, revealed a carefully padded interior. On top of more padding was a piece of flimsy. Neatly written was the message, “The Force is your birthright. These are the only surviving teachings of Plo Koon. Use them well, Luke. I suggest starting at the right side of the box.” Lifting the layer of padding, Skywalker gasped in awe. Nestled in the padded interior were twenty-seven glowing blue cubes.

“Plo Koon was a Jedi Master during the Clone Wars. My father spoke of him with respect. What are they?” Organa asked.

Instead of saying anything, Skywalker carefully lifted the cube in the top right out. Holding it on his palm, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for an instant. Opening his eyes, the cube opened and glowed brighter. An image of a male Kel Dor appeared holding a lightsaber. “Greetings, youngling. We shall begin with Sho-Chi, the first form.”

With a sigh, Skywalker released his breath and the cube returned to its original form. Grinning madly, “They are holocrons. The Jedi used them for teaching and records. This is incredible.” Reluctantly, he placed the holocrons back in its box. He continued to stare at the holocrons in awe like he could not believe they were real.

“No sushi until the medics clear you,” Solo ordered.

“Shii-Cho not sushi. It is the beginning lightsaber form that Ben had been teaching me.”

Wedge cleared his throat before Solo could retort, “There is one more.” Carefully, he moved the case of holocrons onto a table with the other gifts before handing Skywalker the last box.

Opening it revealed a box made of the same wood and workmanship as the holocron case. Opening it revealed the lined interior to contain a wood carving on a cord and some holodiscs with a small expensive projector. There was another flimsy note. “You are so much like your mother, Luke. She would be proud. The necklace is a japor snippet. Your father carved it for her. By all accounts, you have inherited her compassion and idealism. While I do not agree with your involvement with that foolish rebellion, you have much potential. I look forward to the day you are at my side where you really belong.”

Reverently, Skywalker lifted the pennant from the box. Studying it for a few minutes before putting it back. Putting one of the holodiscs in the projector, the image of a young woman appeared. She was wearing elaborate robes, a headdress, the pennant, and intricate makeup. She was standing on a round floating platform. She was a giant room with hundreds or thousands of identical pods around the perimeter. Many platforms were holding people of varying races. Gracefully, her pod moved forward to a podium. Standing proudly, the young woman began a passionate speech on the need for clone rights.

“That is Padme Amidala. I have listened to this speech before.” Organa sounded shocked. “She was a close friend of my parents. My father used to speak of her. Senator Amidala had been my hero growing up. She was elected Queen of Naboo. In her first year, the Trade Federation laid siege to her world. She led her people and the Gungans in defeating them. Later, when her second term was over, she became the junior senator for Naboo. She was a great leader who was unafraid of putting herself in danger. During the Clone Wars, Amidala would sometimes be on the front. She was a champion of democracy and the people. Before her death, she worked with my father and Mon to begin the Alliance.”

“Great, do we need to call Luke His Highness, now?” Solo asked clearly looking forward to teasing Skywalker.

“Queen on Naboo is an elected position. Luke is not a prince.” Organa answered.

“Oh good. We do not need any more royalty.” Luke was still too busy staring at the hologram to pay Solo any mind.

Chewbacca began talking sounding concerned. Solo translated for his copilot. “Chewie is concerned. The second note states the sender does not approve of Luke being a rebel. It also had that creepy last sentence. The jacket and boots are Luke’s size. The data chips are topics Luke is interested in. The food and hot chocolate are favorites. Whoever sent all of this knows way too much.”

Madine finally spoke up. “That is High Command’s concern. That note suggests whoever sent this is an Imperial. They also spent a great deal of money suggesting they are wealthy. They had access to those Jedi cubes. The amount of information they had to put this together is concerning. It implies there is at least one spy. That is why I invited all of you here. I wanted to see if there were any innocent explanations and to see reactions.” Five pairs of eyes were now focused on him.

Continuing, Madine explained further. “While we would want to run a DNA test to confirm, Mon Mothma believes that Senator Amidala is indeed Skywalker’s mother. Apparently, the only people who thought that Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala were doing a good job keeping their relationship secret were themselves.”

Troubled, Antilles glanced over at his squadron leader before inquiring, “What do you need us to do?”

Instead of letting Skywalker answer, Organa replied, “Continue watching over Luke. We already know Vader is after him.”

“Is it possible that Vader sent the crate? He is insanely wealthy and has been hunting Luke for months. If any Imperial has that much information on Luke, he does.” Antilles’ question was unexpected.

Solo made a scoffing noise. “Bucket-Head has better things to do than send Farmboy presents.”

Chewie made a thoughtful sound.

Luke looked up from his mother’s necklace. “I am not going to defect because of a care package.”

“No one is accusing you of that,” Organa reassured before shooting Madine a threatening look. “I am assuming there is an ongoing investigation looking for a spy?”

“We are running checks. They have covered their tracks well.” Madine responded.

A knock at the door made Solo jump. The Chief Medic came in. “It has been close to two hours, I must insist that the Commander returns to bed. He needs rest.” Seeing his patient pop a chocolate in his mouth, he added, “He also does not need candy.”

“Candy? Luke, we told you not to eat that. We do not know where it came from.” Organa's exasperation was clear. “General, do you need anything else before Luke goes back to bed and I confiscate his treats?”

Not waiting for an answer, Chewbacca moved the hologram case onto the table. Scooping up the protesting pilot, he followed Kix out of the lounge.

Chapter Text

Luke Skywalker, Wedge Antilles, and Avery Wing landed at the long-abandoned GAR base that they were scouting. This particular location had been suggested by Commander Cody. It was the last and most promising of three potential base locations that they had been assigned. All they needed to do was evaluate the base and the surrounding area before reporting back on its suitability. Luke had lost track of all of the locations that he helped scout over the preceding few months. Most were dismissed out of hand, but this one actually looked pretty good.

Luke was pleased that Avery was assigned to the mission. Nicknamed, Ducks, the pleasant middle-aged man had previously been a scientist on an Imperial exploration team. Horrified by the destruction of Alderaan, he had defected. Ever since, Ducks’ prior experience has proven invaluable in evaluating base sites. Unlike many of the scientists, he treated the pilots and soldiers of the Alliance with respect. He was a good companion who enjoyed regaling the younger rebels with stories of his adventures while sitting around a campfire.

Popping open his canopy, Luke stretched enjoying the sunlight before hopping down to the landing pad outside of the hangar. From what he could see so far, the base looked in good condition. If the rest was in as good of shape, this would likely soon be humming with activity again.

The base was situated on a wide plain. Large trees were growing in courtyards providing some shade and concealing its true size and layout from overhead. Birds nesting in the trees filled the air with song. The immediate surrounding area was overgrown with waist-high grass and brush.

Luke started walking through the grass only to trip over the remains of a B1 battle droid before going a dozen steps. Artoo and Wedge laughed. Ducks had been too busy taking soil and air samples to notice the mishap.

“You okay, Boss?” Wedge called out. His grin contradicted his more serious tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It is covered in broken B1 droids out here. We will need to be careful.”

“Well, you can't keep them all. The Princess won't let you.” Wedge called back with a snicker knowing full well his commander would love to drag a bunch back to tinker on. “Commander Cody did warn this was the site of a battle.”

“If we find any droidekas, they would be worth fixing for a surprise if the Imps come calling,” Luke shouted back. He was examining the head of a B1 droid. He ignored Wedge’s amusement. Dropping his prize, Luke began picking his way back to the duracrete landing pad where the two X-wings and Ducks’ shuttle were waiting. “Let's find a good camp spot and see if we can find a salvageable speeder. Walking is going to be a challenge with the grass and droid pieces.”

“Roger. Roger.” Wedge called back mischievously before going to check on Ducks and fill him in.

That night, they made camp in one of the barracks. Luke had found a speeder that he and Artoo were happily attempting to resurrect. Wedge had moved the ships into the hangar once a cursory scan showed it was probably structurally sound. Ducks had set up a makeshift lab in a ready room.

“Think we can call dibs on our rooms?” Wedge asked Luke from the stack of abandoned crates he was lounging on.

“That confidant about this one?” Luke’s voice came from deep inside the speeder. Artoo made a laughing sound.

“So far, this looks great.”

“You do realize you just jinxed us, right?” Luke laughed. Wedge could hear the grin in his voice.

“I am going to get some sleep before it is my turn to take watch. Artoo make sure Luke does too.” Artoo beeped an affirmative as a muffled night came from the speeder’s innards.

The following day, Wedge and Luke divvied up the base and commenced scanning. The planet did not have any sentient inhabitants or dangerous animals. The base appeared to be in good condition especially considering it had been abandoned for over twenty years after a battle. Ducks' tests were going well. Nothing seemed overly concerning. The climate was stable. Artoo had discovered the base's sensors had been running giving them over two decades of climatology data. There was even usable equipment and furniture inside. There was a storeroom of rations that Wedge was threatening to burn so they did not end up with expired rations on the menu again. Otherwise, it seemed perfect.

Luke was uneasy. There was nothing that he could put his finger on but something felt off. Maybe he was just being paranoid about finding a really good location. Missions never went this well for Luke. The shattered droid army reassembling itself and attacking would be more in line with a standard mission.

Luke was in the command center checking over equipment when he felt it. A pressure on his mental shields as though someone was probing. It did not hurt but it was extremely concerning. He could not sense anyone nearby.

Cursing, Luke activated his comm. “Wedge, Ducks come in. Head for the ships. We are not alone. Be on your guard. There is at least one Force-sensitive present.”

“Luke, what is happening?” Ducks demanded.

“Unclear. Someone is probing my mental shields. I can't sense them though. Get to your ship. I will be there in 10 minutes.” The pressure relented. Luke still could not locate his assailant but felt as though their presence had wrapped itself possessively around him. He could feel a sense of anticipation radiating from it. Slipping quickly from the command center, Luke started to make his way quietly back to the speeder.

A curious crawling sensation made Luke pause. He could not identify it at first. It did not hurt at first but was growing in intensity. As the sensation intensified, he could imagine hundreds of insects slowly burrowing their way through his shield. Their tiny claws digging and scraping ever closer. Each whispered a command that was as yet too quiet to be understood but demanding his attention. The young Jedi had never felt or heard of anything like this before, but he knew he needed to escape before his shields failed. Too easy would it be to stop and listen to the whispers. Undoubtedly, that was part of the attack. Distract him until it is too late.

Wedge’s voice came over the calm jarring Luke from the reverie that he was unaware he had succumbed to. “Commander, we are here. Where are you?”

“Almost to the speeder. I will be there in about 10 minutes.”

“That is what you said 15 minutes ago. Everything okay?” Wedge demanded sounding concerned.

“Huh? I only spoke to Ducks a minute ago.” Luke's voice betrayed his confusion.

Wedge paused for a moment, “Luke, it has been over 15 minutes since you spoke to Ducks. I have ordered Artoo to prep for takeoff. He heard an engine several minutes ago and you did not answer his comm.”

Luke started at his comm for a second in bewilderment. It had only been a few minutes since he first felt the pressure, right? It was getting hard to think with his growing headache. Wait, when did his head start hurting?

Reaching the speeder, he found the engine cover open. Several components were missing. Looking around, Luke could see no one. He began sprinting for the hangar where his X-wing was parked.

Luke was tiring with the effort of maintaining his shields on top of running. The claws were digging deeper. The voices were getting ever louder clamoring for his attention. It took almost all of his concentration to keep moving. He just wanted to curl up on his side with his arms around his head to block the cacophony. Running with exhaustion dogging his heels, he ignored the incoming comm call. He just did not have the resources to run, reinforce his shields, and speak to Wedge. Luke also was not paying enough attention to his surroundings to notice the sounds of boots or the sound of a blaster.

A searing pain spread through his side. Lashing out instinctively, Luke flung the stormtroopers backward into the nearby buildings. Darting down a nearby ally, Luke concealed himself behind some old equipment. He thought he was near the hangar. Quickly applying a bacta patch Luke crouched down willing himself to be unseen behind the equipment when a squad of stormtroopers entered his alleyway.

The chittering of the voices grew excited as their claws dug deeper and deeper. They were urging him to rest, to wait, to relax, they whispered of how safe he was, so sleepy, calm, and warm. Hundreds of commands demanded his obedience, urging him to just lie down and relax, and many other similar urges. It was getting harder to maintain his shields.

The stormtroopers were still searching the alley when the first whisperer broke through his shield. Its claws quickly latched onto his mind. It urged him to just relax. His shielding disintegrated. The whispers burrowed into his undefended essence latching on with their claws. A memory of a hot spring Han had taken him to surged forward. Warmth washed over him. No longer aware of his surroundings, he was only aware of a sensation of floating in warm water.

Lost in his dreamlike state, he was only dimly aware of shouting and blaster fire. A hand shook him. When his midriff collided with a shoulder, it barely registered. All pain and fear were gone. The presence ordered him to just relax but forbade him to sleep. Dazedly, Luke thought the presence had a nice voice. It was deep and somehow familiar like he had always known it. When crash webbing was fastened around him, Luke was unaware.

Leia was waiting anxiously with a medical team when the ships landed on Home One. Technicians quickly opened the canopy and unfastened the unresponsive commander. Carefully, he was placed on a stretcher and rushed to medbay.

Hours passed. Luke remained unresponsive. Not unconscious or awake but drifting in dreams. There was no sign he was aware of his surroundings. The medics were confused by his condition. While he had been shot, it did not explain why he was apparently conscious but unaware. There was no sign of a head injury or toxin. Eventually, all the medics could do was advise waiting. Best guess was it was some Force thing.

Days passed and then weeks. Luke Skywalker’s wounds healed. He remained unresponsive. Never actually sleeping but not truly awake. His bed was moved to the side where he could be monitored. An IV was left in to provide nutrients and fluids. Friends still came but hope was fading. The mood grew grim.

High Command began debating on whether it was time to let nature take its course. Leia refused passionately to allow the IV to be removed. For the moment, High Command agreed to wait not out of hope but fear of a young princess. Covering their tracks carefully Commanders Cody and Rex made a comm call.

Weeks passed. A ship landed in the docking bay. Two passengers left it almost unnoticed. Two grizzled soldiers met the arrivals. Quickly, they headed for medbay. Two days earlier, High Command had ordered the IV removed.

Princess Leia was seated by her friend's bed clutching his hand. Refusing to leave, she had remained there since High Command’s ruling. The IV was still in but had long since run dry. Exhausted, her head rested on his bed. His lightsaber was clasped in her hand not holding his. Artoo was standing beside the bed with his taser extended.

The travelers took in the scene. One was an elderly man with a tattoo on the side of his head reading “a good droid is a dead one.” The other was a Togruta female.

The man stepped forward, “Princess, may we examine your friend, please? We may be able to help.”

Leia bolted upright, her finger on the lightsaber’s activator. “Who are you? Did High Command order you here?”

The Togruta had moved closer her cloak pushed aside revealing her lightsabers. “I am Ahsoka Tano. This is Kix. We were friends of his parents. Kix is a Clone medic with experience and training in treating Force-users. I had once been a Jedi. Please, let us try to help.”

Rex spoke up, “Princess, it is true. Cody and I ask for their assistance. You know Tano better as Fulcrum. Please, let them approach.”

Leia stood there for a moment before standing aside. Kix pulled out a scanner and began his examination.

“He is dehydrated, exhausted, and needs nutrition. I do not see any injuries. This appears to be Force-related. Do we know anything about what happened?” Kix stated.

Cody grimly answered, “If you want, I can summon the pilot and scientist who were present. There are not many details. Commander Skywalker had reported someone probing his shields. He sounded concerned but fine. Fifteen minutes later, he was confused about how much time had passed and sounded off. He was found like this twenty minutes later.”

Ahsoka placed her hand on his forehead. She closed her eyes, she reached out mentally. Opening her eyes, “It is a form of dark-side compulsions. It will take time to remove them. Kix, can you arrange to treat his physical condition?”

“High Command ordered the medics to stop treatment. Can you save Luke?” Organa responded. There was desperation in her tone.

“I believe so. Cody, could you inform Mon that I am here and ask for High Command not to interfere?”

“Yes, sir. Good to see you again Snips.” Cody left to seek out Mon Mothma.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Ahsoka placed her hand on the Luke’s head. Closing her eyes, she focused on the young Jedi.

Kix returned triumphantly with a fresh IV bag and some additional test equipment. Working quickly, he re-established the drip. Working carefully to avoid disturbing Ahsoka, he ran more tests.

Mon Mothma came in. Rex intercepted her at the door. After speaking quietly, Mon left after giving her assurance that Ahsoka and Kix had free rein. Cody came in carrying a tray of food which he handed to the Princess with orders to eat.

After many hours, the boy stirred gently before opening his eyes blearily. He looked around bewilderedly before closing his eyes with a sigh.

Kix approached with a scanner. Quickly checking over Luke, he announced, “He is sleeping now.”

It was around another hour before Ahsoka opened her eyes and stretched. “Young Skyguy should recover now. I have removed all of the compulsions.”

Rex put his hand on Ahsoka's shoulder, “Come, you need to eat and rest. Kix has this.”

Getting up unsteadily, Ahsoka started following Rex out. Leia returned to her seat by the bed and took Luke's hand again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You should get some rest too. We have much to discuss.” Ahsoka left with Rex. Cody moved a chair by the door.

Luke awoke slowly. Opening his eyes, he could see the back of Leia’s head which was resting against his arm. It felt like she had a death grip on his left hand. It looked like an uncomfortable way to sleep. Looking around, Luke recognized Home One's medbay. Leia must have felt him move since she sat up rubbing her eyes. “Leia?”

“We nearly lost you.”

“What happened?” Luke’s voice was scratchy.

Leia gave him a hug before sitting back down. “You collapsed during a mission 71 days ago."

“Wedge and Ducks?”

Leia looked at him confused. “Wedge is fine. Who is Ducks?”

“Avery Wing from environmental sciences.” Luke clarified.

“He made it back too.” A knock at the open door interrupted any further questions. “Luke, may I introduce Ahsoka Tano.”

Chapter Text

Wedge Antilles was relaxing in the pilot’s lounge on Home One after returning from a mission earlier in the day. He was tired but it was too early to sleep. Instead, he was lazily watching a group of pilots enthusiastically playing sabbac. Considering the amount of cheating taking place, Wedge had declined to join, but it was entertaining to watch.

The unexpected beeping of Wedge’s commlink startled him from his doze much to the amusement of the sabbac players. Commander Dreis was summoning him to a conference room up near the bridge. Slowly standing and stretching, Wedge wished his friends luck with their game. The walk to the conference room only took several minutes but gave him ample time to ponder why he was summoned. The conference room in question was near the bridge.

It was not one that pilots normally used. In fact, Wedge had never been in this part of the ship.

Commander Dreis was waiting along with three other men and a battered astromech. Commander Rex was standing alongside a man who could be his twin. The third man looked familiar but Wedge could not place him. The man was very well-dressed with the air someone used to power and privilege but not military.

The well-dressed man addressed him, “At ease. I am Viceroy Bail Organa of Alderaan. I understand you are a qualified flight instructor, Lieutenant Antilles?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. This extraction is urgent.” Organa turned to a holoprojection. In the center of the room was the image of a teenager sitting on the hood of a speeder with a rifle casually slung over his shoulder while gazing off into the distance.

“Lieutenant, you will accompany Commanders Cody and Rex. A rendezvous has been arranged with his kin. Cody has the location and contact information. After returning, Commander Cody will be responsible for the boy. Lieutenant, you are to teach him flying including getting him trained in an X-wing and other ships. His experience is only in atmosphere.”

The old droid began excitedly beeping and rocking, I am coming too. Skywalker 2.0 is mine.

“Yes, Artoo. You will be part of the mission and will accompany the ad after,” Commander Rex responded to the droid with a sad smile. Turning back to Organa, “Are we expecting trouble, sir?”

“Possibly. The situation is fluid. You are dismissed. May the Force be with you.” The two commanders saluted before leaving with Antilles in tow.

“Lieutenant, meet us in hangar bay 2, we leave in 30 minutes. Say nothing to anyone about this. Supplies will be waiting in the hangar.” Commander Cody instructed.

Wedge quickly saluted before hurrying back to his barrack to prepare. After quickly donning a clean flight suit, he jogged to hangar 2. Commander Dreis spotted Wedge's arrival. Waving him over, he pointed out the two-seat training X-wing that he would fly. The astromech from earlier was already in the droid socket preparing the ship.

Commander Dreis walked Wedge over the fighter. “Commander Cody is in charge. Cody and Rex are legends. Listen to them. The quartermaster is bringing supplies including for your passenger on the return trip. You can trust the droid to assist. He has the coordinates. Try to get some rest on the way out. Good flight.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Wedge responded nervously. He was going to ask more about the mission but the quartermaster hurried in accompanied by three ensigns pushing carts. The three ensigns headed towards the ships being used for the mission

Captain Talon was a no-nonsense officer who had the thankless job of keeping track of the base’s limited supplies. Wedge had never spoken to the officer though he had seen him many times. Nodding a greeting to Dreis. The Captain turned his attention to Wedge, “Lieutenant Antilles? There are supplies for two including extra water.”

“For your passenger, there are flight suits and boots. All we had to go on for size is he might be full human and his mother was quite petite while his father was very large.” Dreis snorted at the aggrieved expression on Talon’s face.

Annoyed, Talon continues, “There are four packages with a flight suit and boots labeled small through extra-large. Ensign Reed will help you get loaded.”

Resisting the urge to laugh, Wedge fell back on his Imperial training and saluted instead, “Thank you, Sir.”

Loading was quickly finished. Settling himself in the cockpit, Wedge was pleased to see the R2 unit had finished prepping the fighter. Moments later, a pair of starfighters and a small shuttle jumped to hyperspace.

The ancient moisture evaporator furthest south was giving Luke grief again. More than any other, this particular evaporator seemed to take a perverse pleasure in collecting sand in the most aggravating places. The recent sandstorm had somehow packed its inner workings full of the accursed stuff.

It was bad enough to be grounded but he had been stuck in the homestead for four days while the sandstorm raged. Oddly, his aunt and uncle had been relieved by the storm. They had been on edge the previous week since the Boonta’s Eve. They had even invited Ben Kenobi to stay with them. Uncle Owen hated the hermit and had long ago forbidden Luke to speak with him. While Uncle Ben was staying, Luke was permitted to speak to him only when his aunt or uncle were present. Despite the tension, Luke had enjoyed the wealth of new stories.

Cursing sand, Luke meticulously cleaned out the device. He didn't think he would have it finished before having to break for the heat of the day. A distant rumble caught his attention. Grabbing his battered macrobinoculars, Luke spotted three small ships including two X-wings flying over the Jundland Wastes. Watching in awe, Luke longingly wished to be flying one. In a couple of years, he would be old enough to attend an Imperial academy. He and Biggs were going to go together. After completing their training, they planned to escape to the Rebellion. Luke had left out that part of the plan when talking to Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen.

For long minutes after the fighters disappeared from view, Luke watched hoping they would reappear. With a sigh, he returned to the sand-clogged evaporator. Focusing on his task, time passed quickly.

A crunching of stones alerted Luke to danger but he was partially inside the machine. He was still trying to get free of the evaporator when a large hand grabbed his ankle. Pulled from the recalcitrant evaporator, Luke found himself hoisted in the air upside-down by his leg. A large black Wookiee with a scarred face glared malevolently at him. He recognized the Wookie as the bounty hunter, Black Krrsantan. His Uncle had warned him to always stay away from the notorious Wookiee.

A crack of a slugthrower announced his Aunt's arrival along with Uncle Ben in Luke’s speeder. Dropping the boy, the Wookiee clutched his shoulder with a howl of rage. A second shot from Uncle Owen in his own speeder sent Black Krrsantan fleeing in rage. Uncle Ben scooped Luke up after checking him for neck and back injuries. Putting him in the speeder by Aunt Beru, he leaped nimbly into the pilot seat. His strength and agility belying his apparent age.

The two speeders sped across the dunes. Much to Luke’s shock, Uncle Ben pulled out a small commlink. Thumbing it on, he spoke calmly, “Phoenix Flight, we are inbound. ETA 45 minutes. Be prepared for potential hostiles following. We may need some air cover. ”

“Yes, General,” was promptly replied. “Do you want us to meet you closer?”

“No, I want to avoid drawing more attention to the locals if possible. Be ready in case we need help or need to leave quickly.”

“We will be ready,” the unknown voice responded. A second voice could be heard in the background issuing orders. “Sir, is it local trouble?”

“It is. See you shortly.” Kenobi severed the connection.

Luke watched in undisguised curiosity. “General?”

“Yes, your father and I had been generals in the Clone Wars,” Uncle Ben answered sadly. “We were Jedi Knights.”

Luke was about to continue questioning when Aunt Beru cut in, “Luke are you injured? You took a bad fall.”

Luke shook his head, “Just bruised, I think.”

The rest of the drive passed quickly. Aunt Beru steered the conversation into safer channels as Uncle Ben navigated the dunes. Uncle Owen followed behind.

“Whoa! Cool!” Luke practically shouted as the speeders made a final turn revealing the trio of ships Luke had seen earlier. His excitement drew a laugh from a young man in a bright orange flight suit standing on one of the X-wings with a drawn blaster.

The speeder had not quite stopped before Luke was jumping out to get a closer look.

“That is definitely a Skywalker,” the speaker was a grizzled soldier wearing armor painted in blue. “General Kenobi, it is good to see you again.”

Ben was staring past to soldier to the shuttle where a man wearing battered armor with orange painted markings was emerging. A pained choking sound came from Ben, “Cody?”

The man stopped and stared as though at a ghost. “General, I …” Cody's voice broke before he could finish.

“Bail told me about the chips. It is not your fault. You and your Vod were victims too.” Ben looked stricken as he put his hands on his old friend's shoulders.

The man in blue interrupted, “Sorry to cut this short but we should get moving.”

Uncle Owen was pulling bags from his speeders and handing them to Luke and the young man. “What is the plan? A bounty hunter tried to take Luke.”

Gesturing to the young man, Cody responded, “Lieutenant Antilles will take the boy in the training X-wing. Antilles is one of the best Alliance pilots. If there is trouble, he is ordered to get Luke to safety. Rex will accompany in the other fighter. They will go to the Alliance. You three will go with me in the shuttle to Alderaan.”

“I am riding in a fighter and we are going to Alderaan!” Luke was grinning ecstatically apparently not realizing he was being separated from his family.

“No, you are coming back with me to the Rebellion. Come on, we need to get you suited up." Antilles spoke up. Putting a hand on the small teenager’s shoulder, he guided Luke over to his fighter. “Small, I think,” Antilles added enigmatically.

“Antilles has no idea what he has gotten himself into. I still have nightmares from his father’s piloting. Did Luke really pod-race?” Rex asked curiously.

Kenobi sighed wearily, “He is the second human to win the Boonta’s Eve. His father is the first.”

“Of course, he is,” Cody’s tone reflected his General’s weary exasperation. Turning to the Lars, “I am Commander Cody. I was General Kenobi’s clone commander in the 212th. This is Commander Rex, he had served with General Skywalker in the 501st. Over there is Lieutenant Wedge Antilles. He is one of the Rebellion’s best pilots and a flight instructor. He will teach Luke flying. We are not even attempting to keep a Skywalker on the ground. I will be responsible for Luke once I return to base. Until then, Rex will. He is an experienced Skywalker wrangler. Let’s get everything loaded.”

A few minutes later, Luke bounced over proudly wearing a garish orange flight suit with a chest life support panel. The flight suit was far too big but that did not diminish Luke’s excitement.

Aunt Beru set down the bag she was carrying so she could tuck Luke up against her chest. “You be good. We will be in contact when we can. I wish you could come with us but it would not be safe for you.” Tears dripped from her eyes onto her nephew’s head.

“Aunt Beru, why can’t I come with you?” Luke asked. He looked so young and scared having finally realized he was being separated. Antilles respectfully hung back.

“You are special. You know the feelings you get or how objects sometimes move? The Empire would kill you or enslave you for your gift. Be brave Lukka Ekkreth. Remember, I love you. Never forget, you are the first freeborn Skywalker.”

Uncle Owen came over and put his arms around them. “Go Lukka. Remember where you came from.” Stepping back, he waited for his wife.

Aunt Beru held him for a moment before relinquishing her grasp. She pushed a bundle into his hands. Luke choked back a sob before diving back into her arms. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“We need to go now. Finish loading quickly. Trouble is coming.” Ben’s voice interrupted the moment. The distant sound of speeders could be heard.

Uncle Owen did not hesitate before grabbing the last bags from the speeder, he handed Luke’s to Antilles. Placing a hand on his boy's shoulder, he softly said, “Luke it is time.”

Aunt Beru led Luke to the fighter he was riding in. “Go, Luke. May the Force be with you.”

Unnoticed, Kenobi passed a silver cylinder to Rex with the whispered words, “It was Anakin’s. His son will need it.”

Luke climbed the ladder. Antilles quickly made sure he fastened in correctly and handed him a helmet. Hopping into his own seat, Wedge quickly fastened himself in as the fighter's canopy closed shutting out the only life Luke had known. Behind Luke, R2-D2 studied his baby Skywalker.

Soon the three ships lifted off. In the distance, a pack of speeders could be seen streaking over the desert as their prey escaped. Despite his sorrow, Luke found himself fascinated as the fighter gracefully headed for space leaving behind Tatooine.

Chapter Text

Three days had passed since the battle of Yavin. Luke had been ordered to report to Medbay for a physical. Sitting on an exam bed, Luke looked around with interest. He had never seen anything like this.

(Later, Luke would enthusiastically tell Han, Chewie, and Wedge about it much to their amusement/horror. Wedge would then explain that the medbay onboard was actually run down, poorly provisioned, and outdated. Chewie would hug Luke crooning sadly about his cub much to Han's annoyance. Han kept insisting that they were not keeping Luke. Chewie disagreed.)

When the doctor finally came in, Luke was surprised to recognize him. Doctor Wren had been treating him for as long as he could remember. He had last seen him several months earlier after Luke had been rescued from Tuscan Raiders by a group of local moisture farmers.

Smiling at the surprised youth, Doctor Wren greeted him fondly although perplexed, “Lukka, you are looking much better. I was not expecting you. The name on the appointment is different.”

“Oh, Luke Skywalker is the basic form of my name. Lukka Ekkreth is Amatakka. I thought you worked for the Hidden Path?”

Doctor Wren just laughed, “I can understand your confusion. I have worked for Alderaan and later the Rebellion since The New Mandalorians were attacked by Death Watch before you were even born.”

“You're Mandalorian, but you do not wear armor?” Luke asked confusedly. He had occasionally seen Mandalorian bounty hunters on Tatooine.

“New Mandalorians were pacifists. Enough about me, let’s see how you are. Fortunately, I have your records. I will need to link them to your new account.” Doctor Wren rumpled Luke’s hair before pulling up his records on a data pad. “Hmm, you are about due for a couple of boosters. Any new accidents that I should be aware of?”

“No, Sir.” Doctor Wren gave him a skeptical look. “Really, nothing happened. Well, I was knocked out by a Tuscan Raider and attacked by an Imperial trash monster but I am fine. Really!”

“Oh, is that all? Let’s start with you getting knocked out.” Several scans later, Doctor Wren was satisfied he was not permanently damaged. He could see signs of a concussion that was mostly healed. Given Luke’s Force-sensitivity, it was not strange for injuries to heal quickly. Unfortunately, Force-users were also notoriously bad patients.

“What is this about an Imperial trash monster?” Luke explained about his adventures on the Death Star. “So, you managed to be attacked inside of a trash compactor by a dianoga. When you were pulled under, did you swallow any of the liquid?”

“Yes, but I vomited it back up.” Doctor Wren's left eye was starting to twitch a bit. Kix had told him stories about the ridiculous scrapes that the Jedi got into during the Clone Wars, but he had always believed that Kix exaggerated. He owed Kix a drink the next time he saw him.

Nine hours later, a sulky Luke was released feeling like a pin cushion. His ankle where the dianoga had grabbed him was wrapped. He was given pills to take at specific times and a long list of symptoms to watch for. In two days, Luke was due for a follow-up. Doctor Wren had also insisted on scheduling Luke to see a mind-healer about killing many people and the deaths of the Lars and Kenobi.

A year later, Luke learned that Bail Organa had arranged for medical care for Luke to be discreetly provided through the Rebellion. Doctor Wren used visits to Tatooine to care for escaped slaves as cover for seeing Luke. He also passed the Lars educational material on behalf of the Organas. The Lars did not want charity but were persuaded by the necessity of keeping Luke out of all official records. Luke being a rambunctious and accident-prone child caused Doctor Wren to make many unexpected visits to Tatooine. He insisted that he was finding sand after Endor.

Chapter Text

Luke’s flight came to an abrupt end. Ahead of him, a set of blast doors slammed closed. From behind came the steady sound of many durasteel boots marching. Looking around desperately, Luke spied a maintenance hatch. Panicky efforts to open it quickly proved futile, but not before precious seconds had been wasted. When Luke finally took a deep breath and calmed himself, he quickly realized the hatch was welded shut. Luke rather doubted that politely asking the Imps to wait while he cut a hole in a wall would work.

Turning to face his hunters, Luke lit his lightsaber and assumed an opening position for Soresu just as the front rows of stormtroopers marched around the corner. Their blasters were already trained on him. The front row dropped to a knee so the second could fire over their heads. These were elite soldiers, not the normal stormtroopers who could not reliably hit the broad side of a sandcrawler. Unusually, their armor was individually painted mostly with blue or orange designs but other colors could be seen.

In the close confines of the narrow hallway, Luke was at a disadvantage. He needed to maintain distance to use the lightsaber. The highly-trained soldiers were all considerably bigger and stronger than Luke. Their heavy armor could withstand stun shots and even kill shots from smaller blasters like the one on Luke’s hip. His lightsaber could cut through the armor like paper but he didn’t want to get that close. It would only take one grabbing his sword arm or tackling him. As long as he had his weapon and was out of reach, he should be able to deflect fire. Unfortunately, that still left him cornered.

Ominously, the stormtroopers made no attempt to approach or fire. They just waited. As soon as Luke glanced over to examine the damaged hatch again, a single stun shot struck the bulkhead by Luke’s head. The message was clear. Be good or be stunned.

For several long moments, the stalemate continued. No demands for his surrender. No attempt to stun or disarm him.

Reaching through the Force, Luke probed the blast door. If he could activate it, maybe he could get away. Before he could figure it out, a rhythmic kish-kosh could be heard steadily growing louder. That sound had haunted Luke’s nightmares since Cymoon-1. The stormtroopers parted to the sides of the hall.

Luke watched in terror as the Bane of the Rebellion strode around the corner. Staring wide-eyed up at the behemoth before him, Luke instinctively took a step back colliding with the blast doors. Swallowing, Luke resumed the first Soresu stance.

Vader made no effort to draw his weapon. Luke’s right hand was seized by the Force pulling his arm to the side. Vader stepped forward. His much larger left hand closed around Luke’s hand and wrist. Luke tried helplessly to break Vader’s grasp. Tugging with his left hand and throwing himself backwards was futile.

“Calm yourself, Young One. You are going to injure yourself if you persist. I have you now. Turn off your lightsaber and relax your grip. You will not be harmed.” Vader’s deep voice thundered down at his small foe. Luke shook his head before resuming his frantic struggles. The departure of the soldiers went unnoticed by the frightened boy.

With a noise that may have been a sigh, Vader pulled out a small pair of binders. Using the Force to snap them around Luke’s left wrist, he then easily snapped the other cuff around Luke’s right. Luke continued to struggle helplessly but he may as well have been a small child having a tantrum.

“Easy Child. Turn off and relinquish your weapon. If I take it from you by force, I could easily accidentally crush bones in your wrist or hand. It is not my wish to hurt you.” The Force verified the truth of his statement.

Hesitating a moment, Luke turned off his lightsaber and slacked his hold. Vader took the lightsaber and clipped it beside his own. Keeping hold of Luke’s left arm, Vader reached out and gently stroked the boy's cheek. “Good boy. You have the potential to be a great warrior, but for now, you are still a child.”

Luke felt as though a heavy blanket was wrapped soothingly around his mind. A curious sensation of safety and calm swaddled him. His determination to fight melted away. Involuntarily, his muscles relaxed. He felt Vader lift him into his arms. Instinctively, he curled against Vader’s warmth. Sleepily, he watched the blinking lights on Vader’s chest plate. Strangely, he felt Vader stroke his hair. When the whispered command of sleep came, Luke obediently let oblivion take him.

Vader stood watching his son snuggle contentedly in his arms. His smile was hidden by his mask. At long last, Luke was where he belonged. Gently stroking his hair, Vader felt more at peace than he had since the dreams of his mother's death began. Whispering the command to sleep, he watched his child sigh as he fell readily into a deep sleep.

For years, Vader had settled for contacting his son only through the Force. The Rebels sending the child on dangerous missions had forced Vader to accelerate some of his plans. Choosing only his most trusted men, Vader arranged this trap. Luke’s capture would not be reported and the search for his son would continue. He had already arranged for Luke’s X-wing to be taken to Vjun when his men returned there.

Luke would sleep until he was safely secured in his new home on the Executor. Grinning happily, Vader carried his child to where Captain Piett was waiting with the shuttle. Vader was looking forward to tucking his son in for the first time.

Chapter Text

In the final stage of his training after defecting to the Alliance, Zev Veers sat in an X-wing prepping for his first training flight. Although he had flown before, he was looking forward to his first real X-wing flight instead of a simulated flight. The boring weeks of orientation had been thorough going over topics from mundane matters like mess hall etiquette to being captured by Imperials. A man holding a child jumping onto the front of his X-wing from the hanger floor and demanding if he was part of the training flight was definitely not covered.

For a hysterical moment, Zev thought this was some test or hallucination. His confusion was in no way lessened by the man removing his jacket, wrapping the small boy in it, and shoving the bundle into his cockpit. Meanwhile, a blue and white astromech had jetted onto the back of the fighter and proceeded to oust the astromech he had been assigned. A lifetime with his strict army father came in handy to get out a “Yes, sir” which was almost drowned out by the enraged beeping and thuds from the back. This was followed by a crash as the blue and white astromech succeeded in evicting Zev’s.

“Is there a problem, sir?” From below came the confused voice of Zev's training officer, Lieutenant Antilles. A commotion could be heard approaching through a side entrance. Some sort of loud humming clashing sound.

“Change of plans. I am Jedi Knight Kanan Jarrus. This X-wing and pilot is needed for an emergency mission. Red leader and Artoo have the orders.”

“Yes, but Cadet Veers has not completed training. If you give me a few minutes, I can find an experienced pilot.”

“No, this is the right one.” Jumping down, the Jedi ordered a bewildered deck officer, who had been attracted by the commotion, to get Zev airborne. Much to Zev's surprise the mystery R2 unit had already completed most of the checks and startup procedures while they were talking. Moments later, Zev was cleared for emergency takeoff. The astromech introduced himself as R2-D2. The droid had the cheek to ask if he had already learned to fly or if he needed help.

During takeoff, Zev had a glimpse of a togruta with two white lightsabers fighting an older man with a blue one in the side entrance to the hangar. The Jedi was running over to the battle.

Breaking through the atmosphere on his first sort-of-solo flight in an X-wing, Zev is startled by his comm. “Red Leader to Training 2, come in.”

“This is training 2, over,” Zev responded falling back on the simulator training. Not that any simulator training included flying with a child in his lap and an astromech that seemed to think he was in charge.

“You doing okay Rookie? Prepare to jump using the coordinates being sent. Do you have any questions?”

“We are fine. Ready to jump.” The stars turned to streaks as Zev jumped.

“Wow! So cool!” Zev looked down at the excited child in his lap. The boy was staring at the blur of hyperspace in awe. The small boy had blond hair and blue eyes with a tan that suggested coming from somewhere warmer than the base. Zev guessed the boy may have been around 5 years old based on his size. Worryingly, the boy had a cut and a large bruise on one side of his face. The X-wing should have a medkit but Zev was not sure how accessible it was with his lap full of wiggling child. Checking the nav computer, Zev saw he had about three hours to go in hyperspace.

“Hi, my name is Zev, what is yours?” Zev tried to sound more confident than he felt

“Hi, I am Luke. I am 6 not 5. Are we going on an adventure? Can you do tricks? Can you show me? Aunt ‘Soka said I have to eat to get big enough to fly an X-wing. Have you been in battle? Have you flown through Beggar’s Canyon? What is that button for? I am going to be a pilot and a Jedi like my dad. Why were Uncle Ben's eyes yellow? It upset Aunt ‘Soka. My face hurts.” The boy paused for breath.

Thankful for something normal to focus on, “Can I see where you were hurt? Is it just your face?”

Managing to retrieve the medkit from a storage compartment, Zev carefully cleaned the cut on Luke’s face and a scrape on the boy’s elbow before placing bacta patches on the injuries. The small med scanner would not turn on. Zev made a note to let Red Leader know that he had not been able to check for a head injury.

Eventually, Luke dozed allowing Zev a chance to process events. He could only wonder how big of a mess he was in. Nothing in his Imperial or Rebel training had prepared him for the last few hours. Enjoying the brief peace and quiet, Zev was better prepared when it was time to exit hyperspace.

After coming out of hyperspace, Red Leader ordered the fighters to land at a nearby space station for refueling and supplies. On landing, a female Twi'lek pilot, came over so Luke could be handed down safely. She introduced herself as Numa. She was flying Red-5. She quickly pointed out the other two pilots. Red-7 was piloted by a Rodian named Farr. Red Leader was a middle-aged human, Commander Garven Dreis. Numa handed Luke back to Zev before heading for supplies.

Commander Dreis questioned Zev about his experience and the events in the hangar. He checked Luke over with his functioning scanner. Fortunately, there were no serious injuries.

After Numa returned, the four fighters headed for the stars. Dreis had picked a planet he was familiar with from the Clone Wars. It was a six-hour hyperspace trip. Much to Zev’s relief Luke slept most of the trip. Luke seemed like a good kid, but it was a long time for a child to spend in a cramped cockpit.

Landing on the green jungle moon, Yavin-IV, the pilots quickly made camp. Zev kept a close eye on his charge who was fascinated by everything. Luke was especially impressed by a mud puddle. He had never seen water just sitting on the ground.

They remained on the planet for three weeks before new orders came. Dreis wanted to conserve their rations, so days were spent hunting and gathering additional food. On a foraging trip a few days after arriving, Numa found a large abandoned temple largely concealed by plant life. They relocated their ships into an old hangar that was part of the temple. They also moved camp into the temple after the second storm.

Luke demonstrated a talent for getting into mischief and climbing everything. The trees proved an irresistible temptation much to the adults’ dismay. He remained fascinated by the daily rain and vegetation. He was a happy and inquisitive child.

Dreis was pleased to see him running around and playing. Years earlier, Dreis was part of the team that had rescued Luke when a pandemic had swept Tatooine. He did not go into details but Luke was the only survivor in his family and was near death when found. Whatever had happened, it must if been extremely bad. Zev had seen the same look in soldiers’ eyes when they were thinking of the horrors of war or disasters.

Zev was sad when it was time to leave. Yavin-IV was a beautiful world. He hoped to see it again; however, he would not miss trying to keep Luke from finding interesting ways of getting in trouble. He would miss the cute little menace.

Zev woke with a start, his heart pounding. He could feel eyes staring at him. Rolling over in his bunk, he saw little Luke standing next to his bunk clutching his stuffed duck. “Luke, it is 4 am. You should be asleep.”

Biting his lip, Luke looked at him with big imploring eyes. The child was on the verge of tears. “I had a bad dream.”

Not turning the light on to try to avoid waking his roommates, Zev scooped Luke up. Holding Luke in his lap, Zev rocked gently trying to not make the bunk squeak. He hummed softly and rubbed the small boy’s back like his mother used to do when he was hurt or scared. Slowly, he felt Luke’s breathing calm. Realizing there was no chance of getting Luke to go back to his own bed, Zev lay back down trying to not wake the child. Pulling his blanket around them, Luke snuggled contentedly up against his side.

Come morning, Zev woke cold. His coarse blanket was piled on top of Luke. Mentally, he added warm soft blankets to his wish list for Luke. It was a long list. Waking Luke, he sent him to the refresher with clean clothes.

The older pilot on the top bunk, Zev Senesca watched. “Another bad dream?”

“Yeah, third time this week. Poor kid. Hope, we did not wake you.”

“It is fine. I have younger siblings.” Senesca just shrugged the inconvenience off.

“Thanks again for switching bunks.”

“No problem, we don’t need him falling off the top. Luke is a good kid. He has just been through things no child should.” Senesca hopped down before heading into the fresher after Luke came out.

Zev finished getting ready, including tying Luke’s shoelaces. The pair headed to the mess hall for breakfast accompanied by the ornery astromech, Artoo, who was Luke’s self-appointed protector.

Joining the breakfast line behind Rex, they bid him good morning. The clone smiled at seeing the child. “Morning, ad'ika. Are you staying out of trouble for your buir?” Luke smiled shyly and nodded.

Chapter Text

Luke missed sand. Coarse and irritating as it is, sand would be an improvement. Mud was a whole other type of horrible. Thick and viscous, it stuck to every inch of him. It hindered his movements and weighed him down. Slowly, it leeched away his heat. At this point, Luke wasn’t sure if asphyxiation or hypothermia would kill him.

It was a simple mission, all Luke had to do was scout the planet. The local people were friendly and happy to trade with travelers. The portion of the planet he was looking at was temperate. It was an area not overly prone to severe weather. It was seismically stable. Really, he was less scouting for habitability and more just looking for a nice spot. Oh, also watching for signs of Imps. Not that they were expected to be found this far out on the Outer Rim.

The only way to make this assignment better would be to have a speeder or swoop bike. It was a glorious day to be on a swoop bike. The only downside of an X-wing was it could not carry one of those. Still, it was a nice day for a walk. It had rained heavily overnight making the paths and dirt roadways muddy.

Artoo had taken one look at the ground before electing to remain with the X-wing. The thick gloopy mud would be next to impossible to navigate on his wheels. He did insist that Luke had a commlink just in case he managed to get in trouble. Luke had laughingly assured Artoo that he had one before fondly rubbing the fretting droid's dome. Artoo gave him an unimpressed look that clearly conveyed his opinion of his Skywalker's ability to avoid trouble.

The day had gone well. Luke had identified and mapped a good spot for a base. It was a large plain next to a small lake. He was tired but pleased. Leia would like this place. It was much more comfortable than Hoth. Luke loved the sounds of the birds and seeing all of the wildflowers in a rainbow of hues. After growing up on Tatooine, Luke never tired of flowers, birds, and bodies of water. The whole planet was full of life. The only large animals were hgeths. They were large quadrupeds that lived in giant herds prized by locals as a food source and as a beast of burden.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Luke reveled in feeling all of the living creatures nearby. The planet was just so amazingly alive. So focused on everything else around him, he neglected his immediate surroundings and the warning from the Force. Having drifted to the edge of the path near a large emerald-green depression, Luke suddenly felt the ground collapse. Sodden by rain, the ground had given way. Sliding unceremoniously into the depression, Luke discovered that the emerald green was a type of small round plant that floated on top of water and mud with sticks and rocks poking up here and there. The mud/water came up past Luke’s knees. With difficulty, he regained his feet. Not only did the mud provide little traction, it almost sucked at his limbs. Sticks under the surface tangled with his feet and legs when he tried to walk.

Cursing quietly, Luke slogged his way over to a nearby bank. The bank was steep. Unconcerned, he began to climb only to slide right back down before he made it a few feet. Trying again a few paces over resulted in the same failure. The bank was composed of slippery muddy soil that could not take his weight.

Groaning, Luke looked around the depression. The bank everywhere appeared to be the same except where the surface of it was disturbed. Near one disturbed section, Luke could see bones sticking out of the mud. It was possibly one of the hgeths. It must have fallen in and had been unable to escape.

Chilled by the discovery, Luke realized that the sticks poking through the mud were more bones. What he took to be rocks were skulls. This was not just a depression, it was a natural death trap for the unwary. Artoo was not going to let him hear the end of this. Well, he would just have to get himself out without asking for help.

Trying again was as successful as the previous attempts. Undeterred, Luke continued his efforts. Stubbornly, Luke refused to give up and admit defeat. The sun was slipping to the horizon and Luke shivering with cold before he finally conceded. He needed help. Cursing, he pulled his commlink link from his pocket with numb fingers. It was as covered with the horrid slimy mud as everything else. While wiping the worst of the mess off on his equally filthy shirt, it slipped from his chilled hands and plopped into the muck at Luke’s knees before instantly sinking below the surface. Frantically, he groped for the small device. Long minutes passed before he gave it up as futile. The mud was too deep to search effectively. When he knelt, the loathsome substance came up to his neck. Leaning forward, it buried him alive. Getting up was more difficult than when he initially fell in. Each time he went under, it was harder to get out.

Wiping the foul-smelling ooze from his face, Luke finally understood the true gravity of his situation. He was alone. Artoo did not know where he was or that he was in trouble. He was already freezing and the loathsome substance was further leeching away his heat. Night was falling. His earlier efforts had tired him but there was nowhere for him to rest. The mud in the trap was full of the decomposing remains of previous victims. It must be teeming with bacteria. If any of those were capable of causing disease in humans, he was in trouble even after escaping. He also suspected that the water might be rising.

Luke refused to despair. He would get out. Even if at the moment, he knew that realistically, it was more likely that he would asphyxiate after becoming exhausted or succumbing to hyperthermia. He was going to survive. He did not survive Vader during the trench run and on Cymoon-1 only to die in a stinking mud hole.

With renewed determination, he began trying to get up the bank.

Training in various environments was important. Even in fairly pleasant locations. The early morning sun shone down. Scouting the terrain ahead of the next day’s training exercise for the Thundering Herd, General Veers viewed the scene with satisfaction. Accompanied by a couple of his favorite officers, a medic, and a squad of stormtroopers, his speeder raced down the track. Seeing a collapsed section of road ahead, he slowed. On one side of the track was a deep depression and on the a other pond. Half of the road had slipped into the depression.

Turning into the meadow around the depression, Veers began slowly driving around the hole watching for more surprises. He could have brought a pilot to drive the speeder, but where would the fun of that be? Not that he would admit his reason to Firmus.

They were only about a fifth of the way around when he heard cries for help. The voice sounded young and desperate. Veers ordered one of his men to carefully check it out while the rest of his men scanned the area with raised weapons. While he had no reason to expect an attack, he had not survived this long by being careless.

The soldier ran back. There was someone trapped in the hole. He thought it was a human male possibly a teenager. The bank showed many attempts at climbing out. There were a lot of bones in the hole.

Veers walked carefully closer keeping well away from the edge. Sure enough, a small figure lay partially up the bank. The disturbance of the ground bore witness to the life and death struggle. The youth appeared to have anchored himself by shoving his arm deep into the soil. Exhaustedly, the figure lifted its head revealing a pair of extremely blue eyes. No other details could be made out beyond he was probably wearing a jacket. The thick mud coating the figure from head to foot obscured all details. A lump at the side might have been a blaster, but that could be Veers’ bias as an army man.

“If we throw you a rope, can you hang on?” Veers demanded. He really did not want the distraction, but saving a local could be good PR. He deliberately ignored the part of him that was a father. After all, he was an Imperial general.

“I will try my best. Watch, the ground is unstable.”

A cable was reeled out from the winch on the back of the speeder. Veers watched as one of his men carefully lowered the end trying to avoid striking the boy in the face or falling in himself.

Drawing his arms from the soil, the boy attempted to grab the line but slid the rest of the way to the bottom. Disappearing under the surface, the boy emerged sputtering with difficulty. The sludge was closer to his waist than his knees. “Can you give me about another two meters or so?” the boy called up.

Veers indicated for his lieutenant to provide the extra line. The line paid out, the rescuee quickly wrapped the line several times around his chest before snapping the carbineer in place. Grasping the line with both hands, he called that he was ready.

The winch was started on its slowest setting. With a pained grunt, the boy was pulled up to solid ground. Laying unmoving on the ground, he was a pathetic sight. The medic, Kix, approached pulling out his scanner as he went. Curiously, the boy in spite of his clear exhaustion, made an effort to pull away but he was still tethered by the cable.

Kix spoke with a calm authority that patients found reassuring, “Easy lad, I am a medic.” Most patients were reassured anyway, this particular patient was scooting backward having freed himself from the cable. A second stormtrooper stepped behind the boy effectively cutting off his escape.

With a sigh, Kix continued trying to reassure his patient, “I am just checking you for injuries.” The boy looked around before nodding. It was almost as if he had been weighing his chances for escape before complying. It was reminiscent of a cornered wild creature. Not only that, there was something about the boy's eyes bothering Veers. The unusual shade of blue looked familiar.

“Human male. 16 years of age. No serious injuries but he is cold, exhausted, and dehydrated. He has numerous abrasions showing early signs of infection.”

Veers nodded. “Get everyone loaded up. Do what you need to for the boy. We will hand the boy over to local authorities later.”

The stormtroopers saluted before climbing into the open area in the back. Luke was hoisted up. His requests to be left behind were ignored.

Kix had given Luke a container of water and a ration bar before wrapping an emergency blanket around him. He had also given him an injection for the infection. “So, what is your name?”
Luke’s exhausted brain was a bit slow to come up with a response. “Biggs Antilles.”

“How did you end up in the pit?” Kix asked.

“Road collapsed while I was out for a walk yesterday.” Veers listened curiously. He was certain the boy had lied about his name.

Veers spoke up, “What are the names of your family? We can call ahead so they know you are alright.”

“Please, I don’t want to put you to any trouble,” Biggs answered.

“You already have been trouble. Surely, someone is worried about you?”

“Sorry, I was working on a freighter that stopped at a village nearby. I am sure they are already gone.” Veers was more than a little suspicious.

“You think they would just leave you behind?”

“The cargo was fruit. Given the choice between finding an easily replaceable crewman and his cargo, the captain would choose his cargo.” Biggs said with a shrug.

“You don’t trust us.”

“Bad experiences. The stormtroopers where I am from were not exactly kind to the locals.” Veers could not exactly fault his reasoning. It was not unusual for garrisons to bully local populations.

“Where is that?”

“Tatooine. If you check for records of me, you won’t find any though. It is Hutt controlled.” It was starting to drizzle. The boy was curled up under the emergency blanket looking barely awake. Veers let the conversation drop. He was certain the boy was lying. Volunteering the absence of documentation was either suspicious or an indication that the teen was familiar enough with Imperial procedures to know it would come up. The Hutts took an annoying view of recordkeeping.

Continuing his scouting for the training exercise, Veers decided to put Biggs Antilles or whatever his name was out of his mind for now. The boy was not in any condition to go running off. He had faith in his men to control an exhausted undersized teenager.

Several hours passed. Glancing back at Antilles, he saw he was asleep or pretending to be. The light rain had washed some of the mud off of the boy’s hair and face. Without hesitation, Veers drew his blaster, made sure it was set to stun, and fired four shots. Before the blaster had cleared his holster, the boy’s eyes had opened and he was starting to move by the first shot. The first shot was a clean miss. Two struck stormtroopers when they moved to get out of the way or grab the boy. The fourth shot struck the boy in the chest.

“Bind him!” Veers snapped. Ten minutes later, a troop transport landed nearby. An hour later, an X-wing attended by an astromech was located and disabled by an ion cannon.

Waking up to a sudden warning from the Force was never good. Opening his eyes, Luke barely had time to register the blaster being drawn and start moving before a stun shot hit him in the chest.

Waking up hurt. Luke’s arms and legs were tingling unpleasantly from the stun shot. His head pounded. His side hurt like maybe he had hit something when he fell.

It took a moment for his addled brain to fully process the situation. Luke’s arms were bound over his head. There was something hard pressed against his back like he was tied to a post or something. He was on his knees with his ankles also bound. There was a rope or cable wrapped around his chest securing him to the post. He was really cold. His jacket was no longer on him. His lightsaber had been clipped to the inside. It must have been found. His pants, boots, and socks also seemed missing. It felt like he was just wearing his sleeveless shirt and his boxers. He could feel a blindfold tied around his head.

Luke could hear footsteps approaching. Forcing himself to remain still and limp, he hoped feigning unconsciousness would provide an opening. Instead, he felt a metal collar press against his throat. When it snapped shut, pain seared through Luke’s body as his connection to the Force was brutally severed. Involuntarily screaming, his body seized before he passed out.

Waking up again was an even worse experience. Everything hurt. The blindfold had been removed. He was outside underneath some sort of ship thoroughly bound to one of its legs. The bindings dug painfully into his wrists and chest. Worse, he could not reach the Force.

Kix was doing something to a device strapped to Luke’s left arm. Pushing a few buttons, he looked over to General Veers who was watching nearby. “All set, Sir.”

“Good.” Veers walked closer. Towering over the young Rebel, he sternly spoke, “Bigg Antilles or should I say, Luke Skywalker, you are under arrest for treason and many other crimes. You will be handed over to Lord Vader. He has been looking for you.” With that delightful announcement, Veers strode away.

Luke craned his head to get a better look at what was on his arm. It was hard to concentrate enough to read the upside-down letters. The words kept slipping out of focus. It appeared to be some kind of medication dispenser.

Waking up again was confusing and unpleasant. Luke sagged against his bindings. It required effort to focus his eyes on the stormtrooper in front of him. The man was slowly passing a humming rod along his arms and torso. It took a few minutes before Luke’s sluggish mind to identify the device. It was a hand-held sonic. Luke had seen them in the medbay after he was injured on Cymoon-1.

It took him even longer to figure out the remaining mud was being cleaned off him. Probably because the Imps didn’t want it in their ship. The stormtrooper noticed he was awake and informed someone out of Luke’s view. Kix came back and made an adjustment to the medicine dispenser.

Waking up was confusing and strangely pleasant. The Force hummed reassuringly. He was comfortably curled up in a soft bed but could see the streaks of hyperspace. He knew he should be frightened. A voice in his head was gently insisting he was now safe, everything would be okay, and he was home. A large hand gently stroked his hair. A rhythmic breathing sound could be heard. He knew that sound. It was a scary sound but that same mental voice soothed away his fears.

A deep voice spoke out loud. A familiar voice, “I have you now, Young One. Rest. We will speak when you have recovered from your ordeal.”

Washed away on waves of contentment, Luke slipped back into a deep sleep. Darth Vader stood watch over his sleeping son with a blue and white astromech standing guard at his side.

Several hours later and many light-years away in the Imperial Palace on Imperial Center, the dead body of Emperor Sheev Palpatine was found. The cause of death forever remained a mystery.

Chapter Text

The post-victory celebration was winding down. Revelers could be seen staggering back to their bunks. Here and there, voices could be heard shouting or singing drunkenly. The whole area smelled of alcohol and in some places vomit. Some Rebels were passed out in chairs, corners, and under trees. Friends could be seen aiding their overly inebriated companions or taking holos for future teasing. Under the trees, sounds and glimpses of movement could be sounds told the tale of pairs of revelers who chose a different activity than sleep.

Like many others, Chewbacca was aiding a drunk friend. Han Solo had too good of a time. Now, walking was proving too difficult to attempt unaided. Chewie amusedly knew that the morning would bring regrets for many partiers including Han.

As they walked/staggered back to the Falcon, he kept an eye out for the cub of Kenobi’s. Chewie had lost track of Luke several hours earlier after Han and Wedge Antilles had introduced him to moonshine and Correllian whiskey. The cub had clearly not enjoyed the alcohol but stubbornly refused to admit it. His companions had taken a great deal of delight in encouraging the young pilot to drink far more than was reasonable. Chewie had been considering intervening when he lost track of Luke. Hopefully, the cub was just sleeping it off somewhere safe and quiet.

Half leading and half dragging Solo to the boarding ramp, Chewie is concerned by mud tracked up the ramp. Chewie knew for a fact it had not been there earlier. Leaving Han on the ground propped up against one of the landing gear, Chewie headed in. Moving far quieter than most people would expect, Chewie quickly searched the Millennium Falcon.

Chewie found the culprits curled up together on the couch like a pair of exhausted tooka kits. The Jedi cub that they inherited from Kenobi and the Alderaanian princess had fallen asleep together. Judging from the still damp tears, they had been comforting each other after the loss of their families and friends.

After dragging a now insensible Solo to his bunk, Chewie retrieved a blanket from the bunk room. Chuffing amusedly, he gently tucked it around the cubs. Curiously, their scents were similar like siblings. Chewie made a mental note to mention it in the morning.

Chapter Text

Unofficial Rogue Squadron Survival Guide

Welcome to Rogue Squadron

As part of your unofficial welcome packet to the squadron, assuming we have not scared you off already, there are some things to be aware of, advice, and bingo. Enjoy the welcome bottle of Rogue Spirits. It is our very own moonshine.

Section 1: General Information and Advice

The Force is real. You may be thinking that it is absurd or a relic of a bygone era, but it is very real and very weird. As part of this squadron, you will need to be prepared for crazy Force ossik. Force ossik can take many forms from an object floating that should not be, to the more serious, terrifying, or just plain baffling. If you do not think you can handle the strange and/or terrifying, please stop reading and immediately request a transfer to a normal squadron.

Rogue Squadron is the home of notorious practical jokers and troublemakers. If you don't want to deal with our insanity, please stop reading and request an immediate transfer to a normal squadron.

Commander Skywalker does crazy things routinely. Just roll with it. Laughing about it is a good coping mechanism. If it gets too much, request a transfer to a normal squadron.

Playing tricks on General Organa is a terrible idea.

General Organa and Captain Solo argue loudly and frequently. It is normal.

Commander Skywalker is the only person allowed to call General Organa by her first name.

Commander Skywalker prefers to be called by his first name by squadron members.

If Commander Skywalker says he has a bad feeling about something, expect things to go sideways, possibly in a bizarre fashion. Be prepared.

R2-D2 is extremely protective of his pilot, Commander Skywalker. You do not want to get on that droid's bad side.

C3-P0 is probably the most annoying droid you will ever meet. We have it on good authority that if given the choice between being stuck in a turbolift with one of the refurbished B1 battle droids or C3-P0, choose the battle droid. General Organa and Commander Skywalker are both very fond of the droid for some inexplicable reason. Even if you want to shove C3-P0 out of an airlock, don't.

There is currently a betting pool run by Wes on what exactly the relationships are between Commander Skywalker, General Organa, and Captain Solo. Don't tell General Organa about that betting pool.

General Organa is as awesome as terrifying.

Chewbacca the Wookie and Captain Han Solo are honorary squadron members. They will pick up items when on supply runs for a price.

The still and associated equipment requires training to use. If there is another poisoning incident, High Command or medical will confiscate it. Poisoning is also an unpleasant reason to end up in medbay.

Be respectful when speaking of Alderaan. The squadron is protective of our Princess.

Sneaking up behind someone and mimicking Vader’s breathing sounds is a good way to get shot.

Moonshine is good for bartering.

Please ignore Commander Skywalker's opinion on moonshine. It does not smell like it should be used to clean engine parts.

Section 2: Congratulations On Your First Force-Sensitive Commander

Welcome to the weird and wonderful world of working with wizards.

Below is a list to help interact with our boy wonder.

1. All Force-users are weird.
2. Force-users like to jump off of high places. Clones have confirmed this is actually normal.
3. It is also normal for Force-users to wander off on sidequests.
4. If Commander Skywalker has a bad feeling, be prepared for bad things.
5. Commander Skywalker has an impressive talent for finding or being found by trouble.
6. If Commander Skywalker was attacked by a colo-claw fish or wampa on Mustafar, it would not be a shock.
7. If Commander Skywalker then attempted to befriend the very lost predator and attempt to help it get home, it would also be unsurprising.
8. Commander Skywalker can deflect blaster fire with his lightsaber.
9. Commander Skywalker can levitate objects. He frequently practices.
10. Commander Skywalker can sense your emotions. He tries to respect your privacy, but it still happens.
11. Commander Skywalker knows if you lie. Don't bother. It is not worth the sad tooka eyes.
12. If running a high fever, has too much caffeine, or has nightmares, Commander Skywalker can lose control of his power. This typically takes the form of objects floating around at random. Keep things properly stowed.
13. Commander Skywalker has been known to accidentally throw enemies across a room.
14. Commander Skywalker claims to speak to ghosts. We have no reason to doubt the veracity of his claim. If seen talking to an empty space, just politely ignore it.
15. Hot chocolate is not a substitute for food. Neither is blue milk.
16. Meditation is not a substitute for sleep.
17. Force-users are terrible patients. If you suspect Commander Skywalker may be injured, please report it to Lieutenant Commander Wedge Antilles, General Organa, Chewbacca, or if none of the others are available, R2-D2. If you tell Chewie, please give the rest of the Rogues a heads up. It is hilarious to watch a Wookie carry our small commander off like a child while lecturing him about skipping medical care.
18. Do not attempt to mimic Commander Skywalker's flying, especially not in a speeder or swoop. It will end badly.
19. Calling the Force magic is a good way to annoy Force-users. Commander Skywalker is fun to tease in good spirits. Don’t be mean.

Section 3: Skywalker Bingo

For the purpose of the game, we define being arrested as taken into custody by Imperial or local authorities and all proper procedures are followed.

Being captured by a bounty hunter with the intent of being turned over to proper authorities will not count as an arrest until handed over to authorities.

If arrest and incarceration procedures are not followed, we are calling it kidnapping.

If, after being arrested by one group, he is taken by another without proper proceedings, it is both an arrest and kidnapping.

Draw a 9x9 grid. In each square, enter a possible mishap. Multiple instances of an accident cannot be on the same sheet. Please submit a copy to Wes and Hobbie along with the 20 credit entrance fee. If one occurs, mark the square off. Every month, results are checked.

Being the first to complete the row or having the most squares wins the current pot and a bottle of Rogue Spirits.

General Organa finding out will result in an abrupt and permanent end to the game.

Clone Trooper Ghost enjoys telling about the crazy things their Jedi and Senator Amidala got up to. He is a good source for ideas. He also will mediate any disputes arising from the game.

Bingo suggestions: These are some past mishaps.

Breaking an arm practicing with a lightsaber.
Escapes from prison
Rescued from prison
Falling off of dais during ceremony
Getting injured during a photo shoot
Getting zapped by R2-D2
Stranded in X-wing
Crash X-wing
Crash speeder
Kidnapped by Vader
Kidnapped by a mad scientist
Arrested
Captured by bounty hunters
Nearly drowned in a river
Attacked by dianoga in the Death Star trash compactor
Trapped in a cave by a krait dragon
Kidnapped by darkside cultists
Attempted kidnapping by slavers
Trapped on a star destroyer and forced to hide in walls
Angered General Organa
Shot
Stabbed
Fell down a flight of stairs
Fell off an X-wing
Fell down a hill
Injured showing off
Mauled by a tooka while giving it a hug
Locked in closet
Injured after hitting the ceiling while playing with self-levitation
Concussion
Got stuck behind a toilet
Injured by assassin
Injured by Inquisitor

Chapter Text

It was rare for Luke and Leia to go off on a mission that was just the two of them. Luke knew the mission was really Mon Mothma’s thinly veiled attempt to get Leia to take a vacation of sorts. They were to spend a week at an abandoned settlement and ancient temple exploring the area as a possible base site. The previous inhabitants had been forced to move when war disrupted their supply routes. The climate, ecology, and geology of the area were already well documented by the University of Theed. All they really needed to do was a quick survey of the settlement. Luke did not say anything to Leia, but he could have done the survey from his X-wing in about an hour. The survey while useful was only a pretense.

In Luke’s opinion, most interesting of all, there was supposed to be the remains of an ancient temple of a Force sect nearby that pre-dated the Jedi. On the two last days of their mission, Luke was allowed to search for it. Both to see if there was anything there to help him and to check it for dangers.

The settlement was tropical and situated on an island covered in creamy sands surrounded by clear blue waters. The central forest was teaming with birds and heavy with the scent of flowers. The planet was without predators or known sentients.

It was delightfully warm by Luke’s standards. After being stationed on Hoth for several months, being warm was wonderful. Luke had already discovered the joy of sprawling on a blanket absorbing the sun. He had missed the feel of sunlight. This was a much kinder sun than the harsh twin suns of Tatooine. There, no one would deliberately lie out under the suns without a death wish.

The abandoned settlement looked a lot like the brochure for a sand-infested resort that some of the Rogues had been trying to convince Luke would be a great spot for the entire squadron to go for shore leave. Wes insisted it would be good for morale and a perfect opportunity for Luke to learn how to swim. Luke suspected Wes was more interested in the bars, beach parties, and the scantily clad women featured in the brochure. Tycho agreed that was Wes’s motive but added that there was much to be said for bars, beach parties, and scantily clad females or scantily clad males if preferred. Hobby insisted that Luke would love surfing, water skiing, and jet skis. Wedge merely pointed out that Luke didn’t know how to swim and would not be allowed anywhere near a jet ski if he had any say in it. Wes was calling Wedge a boring mother hen when Luke was called away to be briefed on the current mission. Luke never did find out what a hen was and why it was boring or insulting. Maybe he would ask Threepio when they returned to base.

All in all, even with the sand, the area was so gorgeous and peaceful that Luke half expected something to try to eat them.

The camp was set up in an abandoned house. Luke was able to get the stove and refrigerator working after about an hour spent tinkering. While their supplies were all shelf-stable, the refrigerator was nice for water and ice.

Leia was relaxed and content so that was all that really mattered. She had desperately needed a break. After the Deathstar, Leia buried herself in work trying to cope with what she went through while a captive and the loss of her homeworld. It had taken Luke a month of gentle cajoling to get Leia to speak with the mindhealer that Luke was required to see. While General Dodonna had insisted Luke go after learning what happened to his family and Ben, no one had done the same for Leia. Leia was too proud to admit it, but Luke could see it helped. Mon Mothma had quietly thanked Luke for looking after Leia.

The afternoon heat was rather much in Leia’s opinion, but that just made the clear waters and colorful reefs that much more enticing. She had spent part of the first day teaching Luke to swim so they could explore the reefs. Luke might not be able to dive down for a closer look, but he could float on the surface with a snorkel and swim fins. It was amazing. He found himself wishing he could tell his Aunt and Uncle about it. He knew it was part of the grieving process, but it still hurt.

In the evenings, they traded stories over a campfire and watched the stars. Leia laughed at the Rogue’s attempts at planning shore leave. She pointed out it was too bad that Luke could not gloat about getting a tan since he still had one from Tatooine. The following day, she did have Artoo take a picture of Luke sprawled on a blanket while wearing only swimming trunks with a glass of ice water with fruit floating in it.

Even if the planet was not ultimately a site for a base, it would be a good spot for rest and fresh food. There were large established orchards and the warm seas were full of fish. Many old garden plots were still visible suggesting that vegetables would thrive. Fresh food was always a luxury in the Alliance. Too often, they were limited to rations and not always fresh ones. Luke planned on gathering some fruit to take back to his squadron.

Leia had suggested that the settlement could also be a good spot for families forced to flee. She had explained that some high-profile Rebels had their families targeted by the Empire. If Luke’s family had been still alive, High Command would have attempted to evacuate them from Tatooine after the Death Star.

Luke tried unsuccessfully to picture his Uncle Owen relaxing on the beach sipping a fancy drink like in the resort brochure. He suspected his Aunt Beru would not have been content to hide on a safe world. She had been one of the leaders of a network that freed slaves. One of Luke’s earliest memories was of his uncle standing guard while his aunt removed slave chips. When old enough, Luke assisted his aunt and later was trusted to ferry escaping slaves across the desert. He was proud of being a windsinger like his Aunt Beru and Grandmother Shmi before him. His grandmother’s tools for removing chips were hidden in his X-wing. Luke never spoke of his family’s anti-slavery activities. The first time he took a life was in a fight with slavers when 12 and not on the Deathstar like everyone assumed.

Day six started the same as the others with a swim before breakfast. After breakfast, he took his X-wing up to run surface scans of the area where the temple was believed to be located and to take a survey of the settlement.

Finding a promising area, Luke left Artoo at camp before hiking over rough terrain to the temple site with Leia. The fine sand was challenging for the plucky droid much to his ire. He did not appreciate having to remain in the settlement because of sand.

Luke and Leia enjoyed the hike. After walking an hour, they reached a small waterfall with a clear pool at the base. Flowering vines cascaded down the cliffs. Behind the fall and halfway up the cliff was a deep cave. If nothing else, the grotto was well worth the hike.

Carefully, the teens climbed the cliff behind the pool to reach the cave. Once inside, Luke pulled a couple of glowrods from the small pack he was carrying. Handing one to Leia, he began examining the cave. The entrance appeared natural, but Luke could feel the Force was strong here. It urged him further in. The roof of the cave had partially collapsed. There was a passage at the back of the cave that was partially obstructed by an enormous slab of rock that was resting at an angle against the wall. Calling Leia over, Luke crawled under the slab while pushing his pack in front of him. Luke was grateful for his petite frame. Han would have had a much harder time. The gap was spacious compared to the air ducts that he kept ending up in.

Once past the fallen stone, the cave opened up. Chewie would be able to move in here without ducking. The cave looked mostly natural but appeared worn in places as though from foot traffic. After walking for about a half hour, the natural cave opened onto a hallway of dressed stone. As they explored, Luke began to feel cold. Dismissing it as the chill of being deep underground, the pair continued onward. Leia teased Luke about requiring sunlight to keep warm.

Hours passed. The chill deepened until even Leia commented on it. Deciding to break for lunch, they settled at the base of a statue. It was of a humanoid female holding a sword or lightsaber in what looked like a defensive stance.

Several times, Luke thought he heard a noise. Uneasy, he told Leia about the sounds. At first, she simply blames his overactive imagination or wildlife in the passageways. It was the clear sound of metal hitting stone that banished all doubt. They were not alone.

Pulling out the scanner that Luke had brought to map the complex, Luke checked for signs of another entrance. There was a passage at the edge of the map that was heading upwards at an angle. Pointing it out to Leia, they discussed the risks of going back the way they came versus heading deeper hoping to find another exit. Reaching out through the Force to examine his surroundings, his mental probing soon found a few groups moving around. All felt like human males. Stretching further out, his mental fingers brushed against a powerful presence. A familiar presence that felt like frozen fire. Luke could feel it reach for him. Slamming his mental shields up, Luke jumped to his feet. Leia took one look at his face before following. A whispered name was all it took to explain.

Side by side, they ran deeper. No more debate was needed. With Vader behind, their only chance was finding another exit. After a few minutes, they slowed their headlong flight to a jog. The distant sound of marching could be heard clearly echoing through the corridors.

CC-2224 could hear the fleeing footsteps getting closer. Moving quickly but with surprising silence, his squad was rapidly closing the distance to their prey. He was disgusted by the noise of another team searching the temple. Cody was certain they were responsible for alerting their quarry.

The sounds of running ahead had given way to jogging. Undoubtedly, the fugitives were attempting to conserve their strength. A couple of times, the footsteps stopped altogether. The indistinct sound of voices quietly drifted down the tunnel. From the occasional word, Cody suspected the Rebels were checking a map trying to decide the best way to proceed.

The stormtroopers were only a short distance behind. Soon, their quarry would be visible. A sudden loud grating sound of stone on stone echoed down the hall followed by a crash and a scream of agony. A horrified cry of “Luke!" followed quickly behind. The footsteps had stopped. Up ahead, a glow could be seen reflecting off the walls. Relying on the night vision of their helmets, Cody’s team did not betray their nearness with light.

Motioning for his men to be careful, Cody rounded the turn quickly with his blaster drawn and on stun. A young familiar-looking woman was kneeling on the floor beside a young blonde youth. Both looked to be in their late teens. The boy was lying on a slab of stone that was tilted at an angle. His legs disappeared into the hole beneath another slab.

Activating his helmet comm, Cody was about to report the situation when Lord Vader demanded what had happened to Skywalker. Explaining the mishap quickly, Cody kept a close eye on the girl. She had snatched up and ignited a lightsaber that had been lying on the floor beside the boy.

Standing over her friend, she glared at the stormtroopers with a feral expression. When one of the other troopers fired a shot at her, she deflected it into a wall. From the surprised look on her face, she had been unaware she could do that. Cursing, Cody demanded his men hold their fire. Furiously, he reminded them that only stun shots were permitted. These nat-born recruits were inferior soldiers compared to the Vode.

Sticking a couple of lights to the wall, Cody was able to get a better look around. It took a few seconds to realize what had happened. One of the stone slabs had rotated when stepped on as though an axil ran through the stone. One side went down while the other swung up. The boy had slid partially into the hole below. He must have grabbed the stone to prevent his further slide. Falling onto the stone had caused it to rotate back pinning his legs on one side and an arm on the other. It was unlikely the stone had rotated like that accidentally. This was a trap for trespassers.

Standing over a trapped and injured mini-Skywalker was a lightsaber wielding Amidala-replica with a Skywalker snarl on her face. Shocked, Cody realized General Skywalker and Senator Amidala must have had twins. He seriously doubted the sanity of allowing Skywalker and Amidala to have one offspring much less two.

Lord Vader stormed down the hallway. Turning with a snarl on Cody, “What do you mean twins?”

Cody hastily explained, “Organa looks like Senator Amidala but acts like General Skywalker. She also deflected a blaster shot.”

For a long moment, the hallway was silent. A series of snapping sounds shattered the silence followed by the clatter of every stormtrooper, apart from Cody, falling dead. The trapped boy let out a horrified gasp. Growling, Organa stepped between Vader and the boy holding the lightsaber like it was a sword.

“Stand down, Your Highness,” Vader stared dared at the defiant girl.

Rather than comply, she held the blade steady, “No.”

Vader lifted his hand. Organa gasped when the hilt shot from her hand into Vader's outstretched hand. After clipping it to his own belt, another wave of his hand sent her careening into Cody’s arms, “Watch her.”

Kneeling beside the boy, Vader examines the trap and his child’s injuries. After a moment, he rested his hand on Luke’s head. The boy sagged against the stone dazed. Pain and fear were gone from his face.

“Luke! What did you do to him, Vader?” the Princess snarled as she tried to tug free of Cody.

“Merely took away your brother’s pain and fear. A medic will be here soon,” Vader answered. He continued examining the trap while formulating a plan to remove the boy without hurting him further. Reaching over, he released the straps to Luke’s pack and lifted it off while trying not to jar the boy.

All the while his daughter struggled with Cody. Vader should have realized sooner. The Princess looked so much like Padme. He had felt something from her on the Deathstar but had ignored it. Now he knew it was the parent-child bond they shared. It was atrophied but had been trying to awaken. Once the children were secured on the Executor, he would awaken the bond with both.

His daughter was so strong. She had clearly inherited his temper. She would make an amazing Sith. Could he train both without them destroying each other? There was a reason there were only supposed to be two Sith. From all he knew of Luke, his son was much gentler than Leia. Spies invariably described him as kind or easygoing. While he had a temper, he did not stay angry. Even with as untrained as he was, Luke was more of a Jedi than many Jedi he had known. The light side was weak, but at the side of his father and Leia, could Luke be allowed to be weak? He would need to consider this further.

A few minutes passed before Kix arrived with a hover stretcher. Setting down his medkit by the stretcher, Kix pulled out a scanner and immediately went to the injured padawan.

After a quick discussion, Kix stepped back. Vader ignited his lightsaber and stretched out his left hand. When satisfied that he had a firm grip on the nearby stones and boy, he sliced his lightsaber between the stones on either side of the trap severing the axil. Carefully, Vader lifted the offending stone and his son. Once high enough, the stone was lowered to the floor beside the gaping hole. Vader gently moved his son until he could lay the boy down on the waiting stretcher.

Kix wasted no time slowing bleeding and immobilizing broken bones for transport. He quickly set up an IV to replace blood and administer painkillers. Exhausted and weakened from blood loss, Luke’s eyes closed as the medication took effect. Vader brushed his son’s bangs away from his eyes.

As soon as Kix had Luke prepared, the five began the long journey back to the surface and then to the settlement where a shuttle was waiting. Orders had already been given to collect the twin’s belongings and for their ships to be taken to his hangar on the Executor.

Luke would spend the next five days undergoing multiple surgeries and bacta sessions to repair his extensive injuries. The chief medic was pleased with his patient’s progress and expected a full recovery.

Vader haunted the private medbay where his son was being treated. At times, he brought his daughter to see her brother with the understanding that if she tried anything, she would lose visiting privileges.

While Luke was in medbay, Vader arranged a second bed and dividing curtains to be added to the bedroom originally prepared for his son. He also arranged proper clothing befitting a princess. It made the bedroom and wardrobe more crowded than desired, but still manageable. Eventually, he had faith that one of the twins could be moved to less secure quarters.

Luke woke up on day six in his new bed with his newly discovered sister sitting on the edge reading a datapad. Artoo beeped a relieved greeting from a charging station in a corner. Seeing Luke had finally woken up, Leia hugged him after helping him sit up. In the dim light, Luke missed the gold flecks in her eyes. Smiling with a new ferocity, she whispered, “Do not worry, Little Brother. You are safe now. We will not let the Emperor take you. You are ours.”

Chapter Text

Tatooine was poor in wealth but wealthy in legends. The children of the desert passed on lore to their children and their children's children. Core worlds may look down on such tales, but in their arrogance forget that sometimes, legends can be history. Tatooine may be poor in the power of wealth but it was wealthy in power. Few remained who remembered that power. Even fewer remained who could wield it. Whispered tales offer guidance to those willing to listen and take heed.

The twin suns beat down on the desert sands. The sand reflected the suns heat back. The air shimmered. The harsh land was hostile to human life. Perched high on a rock pinnacle in Beggar's Canyon, stood a teenager clad in the off-white favored by moisture farmers. From the ground, his light clothes, gold hair, and tanned skin blended into the hellscape. There was a sense the youth was somehow part of the desert. Perched between the sky and earth, the youth’s arms were outstretched catching the wind. Below, his shadow stretched like the mighty sky-walker of legend.

Standing with the wind on his face and tugging on his arms, 15-year-old Luke Skywalker could feel the sky calling. Bound to the ground by the chains of gravity, his heart sought to soar. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine being borne aloft on the winds. Regretfully, Luke lowered his arms and climbed down to the ground below.

Explosions and screams shattered the Dantooine night. Lying on the ground in a dense thicket, Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa waited for an opportunity to steal a ship. Peering out from beneath the leaves of the bushes, the pair watched in horror. The surprise attack had nearly destroyed the base. The only activity visible from their hiding place were Imperial soldiers searching the ruins and rounding up prisoners. Luke’s X-wing could be seen tantalizing close sitting undamaged on the pad.

Guiltily, Luke was privately grateful the rest of the Rogues and the Falcon were not present. Luke had been escorting Leia on a diplomatic mission when she decided to stop on Dantooine. Unusually, Leia had checked out an X-wing when a shuttle had been unavailable for the trip.

Luke and Leia had been on the way back from hiking to a lake when the attack began. They jogged and ran back to base. By the time they arrived, the battle was over. What remained of the base was in Imperial hands. There was nothing they could do on their own for the prisoners.

Luke growled softly when he saw Imps examining his X-wing. The ship’s markings were clearly causing a stir, especially the distinctive large circle surrounded by numerous other victory marks. As far as the Alliance knew, the Empire did not yet know Luke was the pilot who destroyed the Deathstar, but they were well aware of the fighter flown by Red-5. Leia wordlessly rested her hand on his arm.

The sound of massive wings pulled Luke’s eyes skyward. An enormous black dragon with red spines and claws flew overhead before circling around. Luke watched in awe as the mighty creature effortlessly flew through the air. A half-forgotten dream of flight stirred. The skies once more beckoned. He could almost hear Aunt Beru telling him of Ekkreth the Sky-walker. Something about the dragon called to him. He had never before seen Vader in his dragon form before but it seemed so familiar. Luke knew he should be terrified, but it was as if some part of him found the dragon reassuring.

Vader flew over their thicket several times. Luke felt completely exposed despite the dense vegetation. Vader landed near Luke’s ship.

A curious rumbling sensation vibrated through Luke’s bones. The feeling was odd but comforting. Accompanying it was the urgent need to remain where he was. At his side, Leia had gone very still. Luke knew she felt the same.

Sergeant Kreel slowly led his team into the brush. Zuke would join them soon. He had been sent to fetch a box-like object from Lord Vader’s shuttle.

Pushing the branches of a bush aside, Misty called out, “We may have a problem.”

Cursing, Kreel looked into the bush. Inside were two piles of clothing and two tiny dragons curled together. Both were the size of half-grown tookas with stubby wings similar to a baby bird. One was brown with brown eyes and crimson nubs where spikes and claws would grow. The other was gold with sky-blue eyes and white nubs. The gold hatchling lifted its head drowsily before resting it back on the brown hatchling. The brown one made a hissing sound and bared its teeth when Misty reached into the bush.

Kreel and Musty carefully picked up the baby dragon while Mic stuffed the clothes and other items into a bag. Meanwhile, Zuke had arrived with the box. Opening it revealed a warm chamber with a blanket arranged to make a cozy nest. Both hatchlings were deposited in the box despite their squeaking protests and attempts to bite. Resealing the box, Kreel could hear some thumps as at least one of the hatchlings tried to get it open. After a few minutes, the commotion ceased.

Zuke carried the box back down to the shuttle where Lord Vader was waiting once more in his humanoid form.

“You were successful,” his Lordship observed.

Sergeant Kreel saluted, “Yes, Sir. Only there were two.”

“Two?”

“Yes, Sir. Both are in the box and their possessions are in the bag.”

Confused, Vader stares at the box for a long moment before dismissing Scar Squadron.

Lord Vader lifted the portable incubator using the Force. It bobbed along behind him as he entered the shuttle and closed the hatch. His hand hesitates as he reaches for the latch. He was a Sith Lord. There was nothing here to make him anxious.

Lifting the lid, Lord Vader looks in at the two hatchlings curled up together. Exhausted from their transformations, both quickly fell asleep in the soothing warm darkness. The gold hatchling was clearly Luke.

The brown hatchling felt familiar. It took him a moment to recall the second signature, Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan. Vader had always been infuriated to see the Princess. She looked so much like Padme. The Force rejoiced as it dawned on him that Leia was his daughter.

Padme must have lived long enough to give birth to twins and named them after the great twin dragons of Tatooine. Leia who had inherited her looks and political skill, but his Force-sensitivity. Luke, who had inherited his abilities and coloring felt so much like his mother.

Slowly running a finger along the tiny sleeping hatchlings, Vader was amazed that they were truly his. His to care for and protect. Growling, Vader vowed that Sidious would never get his hands on his babies. The noise woke his tiny gold son.

Chapter Text

Luke didn't know if the rest of his squadron made it down safely or even if their fighters were also disabled.

What he did know, was that he was in big trouble. Water was rapidly filling the cockpit through a seal that had been damaged when he performed a barely controlled water landing. While not covered constantly, water kept moving over the damaged starfighter. Every time a wave passed, the X-wing could be felt to rock and water would gush in.

Staring out over the edge of the cockpit, Luke was transfixed by the billowing ocean. Luke remembered that the rising and falling water was called waves from school. He had wanted to see an ocean ever since learning about them. At the time, the whole class had listened fascinated. The idea of giant bodies of water seemed fantastical.

Crashing a starfighter into one was not what he had in mind when he dreamed of seeing an ocean. The irony that a child of the desert was likely to drown was not lost on Luke. There were many ways to die on Tatooine, but drowning was not one of them.

With difficulty, Luke managed to open the canopy between waves. He climbed out on the wing. Trying to keep his balance on the rocking wet wing was proving difficult even on his hands and knees. When a wave broke over the stricken craft, Luke clung to an engine housing for dear life. The salty water burned his eyes and nose. Coughing desperately after inhaling water, Luke could only cling to his ship.

When he finally recovered enough, Luke was able to get a look around. The water was quite clear. Fish could be seen swimming around the fighter. The ship had landed precariously on a pile of rocks. Luke had no way of knowing how deep the water was but wading to shore was not an option.

To make matters worse, the shuttle that he had been hunting had crashed a short distance away. It appeared undamaged with the hatch above the water. He could see an officer watching him from the open hatch. He was karked.

A wave swept Luke off of the wing. Flailing desperately, he was unable to reach the surface. Luke's eyes were closing when a strong arm encircled him. He was unaware of being pulled to the surface.

General Veers was not having a good day. His training mission had gone wrong from the start. His shuttle had developed hyperdrive issues and had been forced to divert to a nearby planet. Which would have been fine except for the Rebel fighters that were training there.

Something in the planet's atmosphere had reacted badly to the inevitable blaster fire causing it to effectively act like an ion cannon causing the shuttle to lose power. Losing propulsion and comms over an ocean with Rebels in the area turned a routine training exercise into an impromptu survival exercise. Verrs made a mental note to recommend the pilots receive commendations.

Crashing into the ocean near an island, the shuttle had settled onto a reef high enough out of the water to allow a controlled evacuation. The General was pleased with how his men were calmly tending the injured and preparing the rafts for launch. The shuttle was being methodically searched for supplies.

Opening the ramp, Veers noticed one of the X-wings had come down about 30 feet away in a much more precarious position. Watching it rock in the waves and water fill the cockpit, Veers allowed himself a smug moment to enjoy someone having a worse day.

Piett had once told him that many Rebel pilots were cross-trained as mechanics, unlike the Imperial Navy. It may be worth the trouble of capturing the pilot. He might prove useful with the proper incentive. The X-wing should have some useful supplies and equipment including the astromech.

While discussing with his sergeant what supplies to take to shore first and the possibility of searching the drowned fighter, coughing sounds caught Veers’ attention. A surprisingly small rebel pilot had managed to get out of his cockpit and was kneeling on the wing clutching an engine while choking on water. Definitely, having a worse day. The blue and white astromech was slowly climbing down to the wing with a claw extended with the apparent intent of securing the pilot.

The next wave washed the rebel scum off the wing. With a quick order to his sergeant, Veers dove into the water and pulled the pilot to the surface. The astromech reached down and grabbed the pilot’s belt. Veers climbed onto the wing while the droid began dragging his pilot onto the wing. Finally having time to get a good look at his catch, Veers snorted with disgust on seeing the pilot was maybe in his mid-teens. The Rebels even lacked the decency to only put adults in fighters.

Dressed in an atrocious orange flight suit several sizes too big, the boy looked less like a pilot and more like a child playing dress up. That absurd flight suit was now soaked and very heavy. Veers drew a knife intending to cut away the barely conscious pilot’s waterlogged flight suit before the next wave. The R2 unit extended a vicious assortment of attachments ready to fight him until he explained to it what he was doing. The droid beeped its understanding. Putting away most of its makeshift weapons, it extended a cutting tool to help.

By the time they were done, one of the rafts reached the drowned starfighter. Veers passed the unresisting Rebel brat to one of his men.

The General was startled when one of the stormtroopers, a clone named Appo, addressed the droid, “R2-D2?” Looking past the droid at the name on the X-wing, “Leave it to you to find a mini-Skywalker.” The droid made a suspiciously rude series of sounds.

Veers turned to his man, “You know them?”

“R2-D2 had belonged to General Skywalker. That is by far the most opinionated, devious, and skilled astromech that I have ever encountered. Anakin Skywalker was the 501^st's Jettii General during the Clone Wars. I am guessing this is his kid.” Appo explained after moving the boy out of the way so the cursing droid could be loaded onto the raft.

“Search the cockpit for anything useful. There should be a storage compartment under the fighter too.” Veers ordered his sergeant before turning back to Appo. “Keep watch over the Rebel. You are familiar with Jedi. I remember Skywalker. If this is his kid, we need to assume he inherited his power.”

Looking down at his half-drowned captive, Veers wondered what he had stumbled into. Recently, Lord Vader had become obsessed with finding a pilot named Skywalker. His Lordship was most insistent that the pilot be captured alive and unharmed.

Two days later, Veers waited on the beach as a lambda shuttle’s ramp lowered. His left hand rested on the shoulder of the Rebel boy. A length of cable connected the boy’s bound wrists to Veers’ belt. The dark figure that stalked down the ramp only had attention for the frightened child at Veers’ side.

Chapter Text

Wisps of fog drifted noiselessly through the dark-leaved trees and over fragments of bones and plastoid armor still bearing faint hints of ancient paint. It required little imagination to conjure up the wraiths of those long-fallen soldiers to populate the ghostly wood, to believe the souls of the men who had fought and died for a Republic that denied their very sentience still haunted the wooded valleys and hillsides of the moon. Yet compared to those who survived the battles, those who had perished within these woods may have had a kinder fate.

In the pre-dawn gloom, ghostly armored figures moved through the fog-shrouded forest. The heavy dew left by the fog had long since soaked into the fallen leaves muffling the footsteps of the living who had intruded into the realm of the dead. Occasionally, a sharp crack betrayed when a careless foot crushed down on the remains of those forgotten soldiers from a previous war.

A lithe figure in Rebel fatigues flitted from shadow to shadow. Moving quietly, the young man took care to avoid the pitiable remains. The Force was heavy with sorrow for all of the needless suffering and death. Concealing himself in the dense foliage high in a tree, the youth fiddled with his commlink trying to get a message to his astromech. Unable to pierce the Imperial jammers with the equipment on hand, Luke Skywalker slipped his commlink back into a jacket pocket. He would not be able to count on assistance. It was about nearly 10 km back to where his X-wing was concealed. Pulling his jacket tight against the damp chill, the youth carefully climbed down from his perch after a patrol passed by.

Moving quietly, Luke began his long trek back to the relative safety of his snub fighter. Reaching out tenuously through the Force, the young would-be-Jedi tried to sense the location of the stormtroopers hunting him. Not sensing any nearby, Luke continued onward listening intently and occasionally pausing to scan the area with the Force. From time to time, he was forced to hide from a patrol, but overall, they were relatively easy to avoid. Nevertheless, he cannot shake the feeling he is being watched.

Adding to Luke’s difficulties, the fog had gradually dampened his clothes. In the cold pre-dawn, he needs to warm up. A child of the twin suns, Luke continues to struggle with cool weather even when dry. If he needed to use his blaster, his shivering and numb hands would be a problem. If he was honest with himself, he would have a hard time hitting the side of a sand crawler.

Nearing the clearing where his X-wing was waiting, Luke attempted to raise Artoo again without success. Cold and exhausted from his constant use of the Force, Luke cautiously approached the clearing. He had not sensed any soldiers for several kilometers. Still, Luke felt uneasy. Something was wrong. If only he could reach Artoo. Biting his lip, Luke knelt behind a tree thoughtfully surveying the clearing. The fog was very dense here, only the vague outline of his starfighter could be made out. He could not see Artoo…not even his lights.

Luke hesitated about venturing into the clearing. He did not have an alternate means of transport and Artoo was waiting for him. The moving fog seemed to curl around him. It was as if ropes of ice were slowly being entwined around him. Creeping from cover to cover, Luke slowly circles the small clearing. He never spots Artoo, but in the poor visibility, it is hard to even see the fighter. Nothing appears wrong. Nothing sounds wrong. He just cannot shake the feeling something is really wrong. He is still unable to raise Artoo on his commlink.

Moving into the clearing at a crouch using the fog for cover, Luke listens every few steps for any sound. Tripping, he choked back an exclamation of fright when he abruptly found himself face to face with a skull peering out of a shattered helm. Making an undignified scramble away, bones and armor clattered around him in his haste. Shaken by the unexpected encounter, Luke reached the cockpit ladder. Looking around, Luke thought he could just make out Artoo in the droid socket.

Quickly climbing up, Luke could clearly see Artoo. He was still in the droid socket but shut down. Calling his droid friend, he quickly climbed to Artoo. The was no visible damage but Artoo failed to turn on.

Heart pounding, the young pilot hopped into his cockpit. Luke quickly began flipping switches to power up the fighter only to be confronted by warning lights. A quiet thud on the transparisteel canopy, nearly made Luke scream. The central computer for his X-wing was now sitting precariously on the clear canopy. Staring in shock at the fragile component balanced on end overhead, Luke wasted seconds before looking frantically around. In the darkness and fog, no one else was visible. The component had not been thrown there…yet there was no one.

Luke knew it was possible to levitate objects. He was getting better at moving some small brightly colored balls that Wedge had given Luke for training after a mishap involving screws. In theory, he should be able to use the Force to move the computer out of the way without dropping it. It is just like a ball.

Taking a deep breath, Luke opened himself to the Force. Lifting his right hand, he visualized a giant hand gently plucking the computer from the canopy before setting it down on a wing. Slowly, the part began moving to Luke’s surprise. The distant cry of an animal startled him causing him to lose his mental grip. The computer only fell a meter before floating upward and being sat gently on the front of the X-wing. Luke was not the one who caught it.

Stunned, Luke looked around before spotting a large shadowy figure standing with its arm outstretched. With a click, the canopy release activated leaving nothing between Luke and the cold darkness.

“You have much to learn Young One.” Darth Vader’s voice cut through the air. The menacing behemoth figure strode confidently forward. A heavy weight pressed Luke into his seat.

Pulling a commlink from his belt, Vader activated it. “Colonel Fel, arrange to have an X-wing brought from my current location to my private hangar. It is heavily modified and extremely responsive. Have the astromech brought to my quarters without powering it on. A mechanic will need to be brought down to re-install the main computer before the X-wing can be flown.”

A voice promptly responded, “Yes, sir. Black-4 has experience with the craft. I will send him with a repair team to collect the X-wing.”

“Black-4 will not fit in the cockpit. The fighter is set up for a tiny human pilot.”

Vader ignored Luke’s indignant, “I am not tiny!”

There was a slight pause at the end as though the officer was taken aback by Luke’s interruption. “Saber-9 is the smallest elite pilot on board. She is returning from patrol. The shuttle and repair team will be ready once she docks.”

“Very well. The X-wing’s computer will be on the seat.” Vader clipped the commlink back to his belt. Addressing Luke, who was sitting with his arms crossed defiantly while his emotions vacillated between terror and pouting, “Little One, will you climb down or do I need to pull you out?”

Luke shouted down, “I am not going anywhere with you.”

The vocoder made a crackling sound as though it was trying to translate an exasperated sigh. A startled yelp escaped Luke when he was suddenly plucked by an unseen hand from his seat and deposited on his feet in front of Vader. Still held tightly by the invisible grasp, the youth was unable to flee. Vader easily snapped binders on Luke’s wrists.

Pulling Luke along beside him, Vader strode from the clearing. After walking for 10 minutes, they reached another clearing where three lambda shuttles waited. A senior officer was watching stormtroopers load when the unlikely pair emerged from trees.

“Sir, we will be ready to leave in 10 minutes. The last two patrols just returned.” The officer saluted as he reported. Luke took the opportunity to fling himself backwards trying to break Vader’s grip while he was distracted. Vader merely pulled Luke back beside him.

Vader stalked through the crowded shuttle. Stormtroopers quickly moved out of his path. When a soldier dared to deliberately trip Luke, Vader snapped his neck with barely a glance. Pulling a shocked Luke back to his feet, Vader stormed into the cockpit. Shoving Luke into the copilot’s seat, he ordered the boy to behave. Re-cuffing Luke's wrists to the armrests only took a moment.

Luke watched helplessly while Vader ran through pre-flight checks.

Vader was just finishing when the general from earlier entered. If he was surprised to have a bound Rebel in the copilot’s seat, he kept his reaction well hidden. “Lord Vader, all troops are loaded. The other shuttles are ready.”

“Very well. General Veers, if the local garrison reports activity, I have given the Vode permission to bury their brothers.”

“Thank you, sir. The men will appreciate it.” General Veers returned to the cabin. Luke noticed his satisfaction in the Force as he left.

Vader must have sensed Luke’s confusion since he explained, “The Clones call themselves Vode. It is Mando’a for brothers. The battle fought below had been under a fallen Jedi named Pong Krell. After the battle where he needlessly allowed his men to be killed, he had ordered the survivors to leave their brothers unburied.”

The sun was rising as the shuttle left the ground. Slumped in the copilot seat sound asleep, Luke was unaware of the new day or his father’s joy.

Chapter Text

Luke Skywalker carefully positioned a tiny camera to give a limited view of the conference room. Even with the view partially obstructed by the vent grill, it would provide invaluable audio. It was the last of a dozen surveillance devices placed. Satisfied, he slowly began backing noiselessly through the air duct.

Forty minutes later, Luke reached a maintenance hatch. Checking the Force, he detected no threats or lifeforms nearby. Exiting the air duct into a crawl space, he reveled in having enough room to sit and stretch. His exhausted muscles ached from spending 10 hours shimmying through ductwork apart from a brief respite when he had emerged in a refresher.

As tempting as it was to take a break before continuing, Luke knew he was pressed for time. The crawlspace was frequented by maintenance personnel and mouse droids, the longer he lingered the greater the chance of being discovered. He only had two hours to travel about half a kilometer before reaching the main hangar where he would stowaway on a freighter heading for Correllia. While the distance was not great, his planned path would take a considerable amount of time to traverse.

At least Vader was off the ship. Intelligence had placed him on Naboo for a ceremony commemorating the defeat of the Trade Federation and the opening of a museum celebrating the life of Padme Amidala. Leia had been very offended that Vader was going to be at the ceremony. The late queen and senator was her hero.

Moving relatively quickly through the crawlspace, the weary Rebel soon reached a hatch opening into the area between two decks. Climbing inside, he carefully secured the hatch behind him. Slowly, he picked his way over pipes and cables. Growing disoriented the longer he remained in the maze, Luke’s unease increased. If he missed the freighter, he would have to wait for another opportunity. Relief flooded Luke when a gentle nudge from the Force urged him on. He thought he was off-course, but trusted the Force to guide him.

The sound of voices sporadically could be heard. If he was where he thought he was, there were officer quarters below him. Intrigued hearing the name Executor, Luke crept closer before pausing to eavesdrop.

Below, two senior officers could be heard discussing the new flagship. In a week, the Devastator would reach Kuat Drive Yards where the Executor was being constructed. It would be another 53 days before the behemoth would be ready to launch. High Command would be very interested in that. The briefing he had attended a few days prior had her launch scheduled in around a year.

Unhesitatingly obeying a nudge to move closer, Luke carefully climbed over a conduit. Any noise now would alert the officers. Reaching an area without any obstructions, the young Rebel lay down. Closing his eyes, he focused fully on the discussion of the officers.

High Command would be concerned by the unwelcome news of the Executor’s launch being sooner than expected. It was important to get any additional details even if it put at risk his plans to get away on the freighter. Too bad he did not have any more surveillance equipment left to leave here.

With a sudden shriek of tearing of metal, the floor dropped out from below Luke dumping him into the cabin below. Horrified, he watched a glass coffee table with several glasses and a bottle rushing up towards him.

Vader dropped from hyperspace. Ahead, TIE fighters, shuttles, and freighters could be seen flitting around Death Squadron. All seemed routine. Yet, Vader could feel his son’s presence shining like one of the twin suns.

Frowning behind his mask, Vader carefully brushed his mental fingers across his son. As expected, the boy failed to notice. Luke felt tired but was calm and determined. Vader sensed little fear or even anxiousness. His emotional state suggested that the boy was not a prisoner and not preparing to attack. Whatever he was up to, he must not feel himself in imminent danger although there was a sense of urgency and wariness. What the kriff had Obi-wan been up to all of those years? Why steal his child only to leave him untrained and vulnerable?

Concealing his presence in the Force, Vader landed in his hangar on the Devastator where Luke shone like a beacon. Stalking his oblivious son, Vader found himself in the part of the ship with senior officers’ cabins. Luke was slowly moving further away. It felt like he was in the narrow gap between this deck and the one above. The space was used for infrastructure like pipes and electrical systems.

His boy felt slightly confused like he was having trouble keeping his bearings in the confined space. It was easy to feed Luke’s disorientation. His plight was hardly unusual. It was not unknown for even experienced maintenance personnel to get lost in there. Some Star Destroyers’ crews believed their ships to be haunted by the ghosts of shipwrights and maintenance personnel who became hopelessly lost in the labyrinths of gaps and crawlspaces. Vader had overheard one exasperated captain complaining about crew members leaving offerings of food and water to appease a spirit.

Vader nudged Luke to move in his direction. He was pleased, if somewhat concerned, when the child responded readily. He just needed to find somewhere… Ah, there. Vader was pleased to see one of the cabins belonged to Captain Piett. His calm presence could be felt inside along with General Veers. Excellent, both men were trustworthy and discreet. While he would prefer to have no one know of the boy, they were loyal. Pulling out a datapad, he typed a quick message. Seconds later, General Veers confusedly opened the door while Captain Piett began talking loudly about the Executor.

Vader entered. Shielding his presence and the noise of his respirator, Vader waited silently. Motioning for Piett and Veers to continue, he looked up toward the ceiling in anticipation. His son was very close. A shift in Luke’s presence indicated he had heard Piett and was interested.

Luke came closer but stopped before being overhead. Even using the Force to amplify his hearing, Vader was proud to note that Luke was moving almost completely silently. Lightly, he began wrapping tendrils of the Force around the boy. Smiling in satisfaction, his son was already caught even if unaware of it. Another nudge urged Luke to move a bit closer so he could hear better. When his child was where he wanted him, Vader seized the closest edge of a durasteel ceiling panel with the Force. Quickly, he pulled it down like peeling back the lid on a ration pack.

Panic and shock, flooded the Force as Luke tumbled down the bent panel. The boy never reached the coffee table and glasses below. Caught in mid-air by the Force, the child's cap fell off revealing his shaggy hair.

After tossing the boy's blaster to Veers, Vader set the boy down on the floor of Piett’s small sitting room. Vader was blocking the exit. Veers and Piett were between Luke and the bedroom. Though both men were shocked by these events, Vader knew they would not let the boy pass. Not that there was anywhere for him to go.

The boy jumped up and backed away until he bumped into the wall. Luke’s eyes were narrowed and his teeth slightly bared like a feral tooka. His son looked desperately around the room, Vader noted when his eyes lit on the air vent. Piett quickly moved in front of it having also noticed the boy’s gaze linger on it.

“I have you now.” Vader smiled behind his mask noticing the foolish child's cadet pilot uniform with the name Ekkreth and his non-regulation hair. “That uniform is much more appropriate than the abomination you usually wear.”

Glancing over at Piett, who was pulling his commlink free, “There is no need to call security. I will handle this personally. Do not mention the boy to anyone.”

Handing Luke his cap, he ordered him to put it back on. The boy merely backed further away, his eyes widening in fear. Vader was displeased by his disobedience and terror. His son should not be so frightened of his father. His spike in anger only further alarmed the boy.

Reigning in his anger, Vader reminded himself that the boy was a victim. Stolen away as a newborn by their enemies, the boy was unaware of their relationship or the bond that Vader could feel strengthening by their mere proximity. It would take time, but soon the boy would begin to understand. Their confrontation on Cymoon-1 had only fed the boy’s fear. Vader himself was haunted by the memory of almost slaying his own son. Kenobi died too quickly.

Snatching the hat back from the boy, Vader seized Luke by the back of the neck. He shoveled the hat low on his child’s head, mostly concealing his hair. With a firm grasp on the boy to prevent any misguided escape attempts, Vader stalked from the quarters pushing Luke along in front of him.

Approaching a group of officers chatting, Vader was annoyed when they glanced at his son before dropping their eyes. Vader sensed their pity for the boy as they passed. Wrapping the boy in nothingtoseehere, they continued on without attracting further notice.

In the lift, Vader felt the boy's confusion when they began to ascend. Letting go of the boy for a moment, Vader sent a couple of quick messages requesting Kix to report to his private medbay and for Appo to bring a specific size and type of crate to his quarters. Vader grabbed Luke before the doors opened. The foolish child had been intending to bolt.

Marching Luke the rest of the way to his quarters without incident, the massive doors opened at their approach. Pushing his son into his office, Vader shoved him down onto a nearby unused synth-leather couch.

Looming over his son with his arms crossed, Vader studied the boy’s features. He looked so much like Padme. Taking a moment to calm his nerves, “What do you know about your parents?”

Luke’s confusion was projected into the Force. Vader would need to teach him how to shield soon. What was Kenobi thinking when he stole the boy? Clearly, not training him.

Luke swallowed a moment before responding, “My Aunt and Uncle didn't know my mother’s name. My uncle said my father was a navigator on a spice freighter but Ben said he was a Jedi and a general during the Clone Wars. Ben said you betrayed and murdered my father.”

Vader recalled their brief conversation on Cymoon-1 and the boy’s accusations. Anger flashed through him like a raging wildfire. The boy’s eyes widen in renewed fear under the onslaught of the darkside. Grabbing his fury and wrestling it down, Vader returned his attention to his son.

“You were lied to Young One. I am your father.”

The boy began frantically shaking his head, repeatedly whispering “That's impossible.”

“Luke, search your feelings. You know it to be true.” Watching and feeling his son's anguish, Vader tried to remember how to offer comfort. Vader sat down beside Luke and pulled him into his arms. He felt Luke stiffen before it was as if something snapped in the boy and he sagged sobbing into his father’s arms. Awkwardly, Vader stroked his child’s hair like his mother used to when he was upset.

“Why didn't you come for me?” Luke's voice was barely a whisper.

Brushing the boy's tears away, “I was told you had died with your mother. If I had known, nothing would have stopped me from coming for you.”

Standing in his accustomed spot on the bridge, Vader reached through their bond to check on his son. The child was still deeply asleep. Vader knew it was not good for the boy to spend so much time in a Force-induced slumber. There was no one else he trusted to keep the child out of trouble when he could not supervise him. It would only be a few more days until they reached the Executor where appropriately secure quarters were ready. Until then, Vader took solace in knowing that the storage crate Luke was locked in was lined with soft blankets and pillows making a cozy nest.

Chapter Text

Luke swiped a curtain of thorny vines out of his way. The muscles of his legs burned but this was nothing compared to training on Dagobah. Not only was the ground firm, there was not a senile swamp troll strapped to his back whacking him with a stick when displeased. Unfortunately, many stormtroopers were hunting him. His orange flight suit stood out in sharp contrast to the greens of the woods.  The heavy material did offer effective protection from the many thorny bushes and trees. He regretted leaving his helmet in his X-wing. Seriously, did anything grow on this planet that would not try to stab him?

A rumble overhead heralded the arrival of yet another lambda shuttle. It was the ninth shuttle full of stormtroopers to arrive that Luke knew of.  Someone had realized that there was no hope of chasing him down and was instead depositing soldiers strategically throughout the forest.  The ones he had seen were all members of the 501^st which was not good. Unlike many stormtroopers who could not shoot the broadside of a sandcrawler, those of the 501^st were annoyingly competent. At least, the telltale chill of Vader was notably absent.  Luke really was not ready to face his father again.

Luke had a pretty good idea about the general concept of their plan. One evening while gathered around a campfire,  Zev Veers had told the Rogues about a large annual hunting festival on Denison.  Well-connected hunters would be invited to hunt a variety of dangerous predators in teams accompanied by hunting dogs. The teams would work together to force the predator to keep moving.  Only when their prey was exhausted would the hunting dogs corner it. The hunters would then kill it from a safe distance. They might lose a few dogs, but the hunters were willing to sacrifice them for the “glory” of the kill.

Kneeling in a bush, Luke took a sip of water pondering.  The immediate problem was how to give the Imps the slip and get back to his ship.  His commlink was jammed preventing him from coordinating with Artoo. Undoubtedly, the Imps in orbit were on the lookout for any ships attempting to leave the surface. If he stole a shuttle, his odds of slipping through unnoticed might be better, but lambdas were ill-suited for flying solo. Besides, he could not abandon Artoo. 

Shouts and loud rustling sounds came from the left where Luke could sense a line of men slowly approaching. If they behaved like other teams, they would be moving side by side in two long lines. The first row would be shouting and beating the bushes. Any wildlife would flee.  The second line would be scanning the trees. One such team had spotted Luke from a distance. He narrowly avoided the storm of stun shots.  The yellow lightsaber he had recovered from Tempes a couple weeks prior had saved him.  

Slipping from his hiding place, Luke moved silently through the forest. He knew he was being herded. He was fairly confident that the Imps had a rough idea of where he was. Not good. With a groan, he stretched his aching muscles before moving on.

Dajarik was not Luke’s strong suit. Unfortunately, he had a nasty suspicion whoever was in command of the other side was very good at it. They also had the advantages of numbers and a map. His advantage was the Force. While an amazing ally, Luke was still only a padawan.  If he could get some breathing room, meditating would help him locate all of the stormtroopers and their movements.  Maybe that was the key. Instead of trying to escape back to his ship, he should strive to gain distance and time to plan.

Ahead, there was an odd rumbling sound.  From behind him, came the commotion of another search team.  Cursing in Huttese, Luke darted forward to the left away from both teams.  He was running out of room.

After jogging for several minutes, Luke burst clear of the trees. Ahead, the ground dropped away. Moving closer to the edge revealed the source of the rumble.  About three meters below,  a river ran swiftly between rocks.  Further upstream, water plunged over a fall before crashing down into a pool. At the outlet of the pool, fallen trees and other debris had accumulated.  

Under other circumstances, Luke would have loved to sit and admire the waterfall. A child of the desert, Luke was still in awe of bodies of water.  Instead, he headed for the fallen trees. Studying the tangle, he quickly mapped a route across while doing his best to ignore the water churning below. 

Jumping onto the first trunk, Luke slipped. Easily regaining his balance, he silently thanked Yoda.  Carefully, he climbed along the slippery trunks.  He made it most of the way across without further mishap.

Igniting his lightsaber, he deflected several blaster shots almost instinctively. He had summoned the weapon to his hand without realizing it.  Luke’s brief elation was quickly drowned when he realized several deflected shots had struck the debris pile which was starting to shift. With a groan, the mighty trunk he was standing on that had seemed so secure seconds before slid sideways and dumped the young Jedi into the torrent where it rushed out from below the pile.  Luke was washed helplessly downstream.

Barely able to swim in still water, there was no chance for Luke to escape the current, especially after being bashed into multiple rocks.  Jerked repeatedly under the water before resurfacing, he was a helpless plaything in the grasp of the raging river. Dizzy from oxygen deprivation and a blow to the head, Luke struggled to grasp rocks as they flashed past.  All too rapidly, Luke’s struggles become weaker.  Exhausted from the hunt, injured by the rocks, and nearly drowned, his strength was spent. The water closed over his head. Dimly, he is aware of being plucked from the river.

Waking up vomiting river water was not something Luke would recommend. Painfully, he tried to sit only to be pushed gently but firmly back down.  “Stay still. You are badly injured.  A medic is on the way.”

The speaker’s deep voice had the mechanical sound of a vocoder.  It took a few seconds for the significance of the voice and the rhythmic kish-kosh to dawn on Luke’s addled mind.  Struggling feebly, he feels as though cold tentacles wrap around his flailing limbs restraining him. Panicking, he struggles in his father’s grasp futilely. The exertion sets off another bout of coughing.  A hand card through his hair, “Easy boy. I have you now.” A soothing sensation washed through Luke causing him to relax.

Lifted carefully onto a hover stretcher, consciousness slipped gently away as a medic worked on preparing his patient for transport.

Chapter Text

Luke blew on his cold fingers trying to warm them. He loved tinkering on his X-wing but the cold made it a challenge. Turns out that tools were hard to use when your fingers were stiff and numb. Being tired really didn’t help either. Every night, he had trouble going to sleep because of the cold and woke shivering in the morning. Secretly, he feared some night would go to sleep and never wake again. There had been deaths on the base from hypothermia. There were times he almost missed Tatooine. Almost.

Child of the twin suns that he was, Luke had no illusions about his suitability for the cold. Chewie fussed constantly. A few times, the Wookiee had scooped Luke up in his massive arms like a small child and carried him to the Falcon to warm up. Both Chewie and Han had offered Luke a bunk when they were on base, but he insisted on staying in the pilot’s barracks like the rest of his squadron. Leia and some of his pilots thought he should take them up on their offer even if his choice to remain in the barracks was good for morale.

Luke was just finishing some maintenance on his shields that Artoo was supposed to have been helping with when he received an urgent summons to a conference hall in 15 minutes. Quickly finishing, he had just enough time to wash his hands before hurrying to the hall. He would have jogged but had already learned the hazard of working up a light sweat.

Leia was just arriving when he turned the final corner. Seeing Luke, she waited. When asked if he knew what it was about, he only shook his head. Luke had not spoken to anyone since lunch. Most of his squadron was “helping" in the kitchen having annoyed General Dodonna once too often. Wedge and Tycho were aiding Blue Squadron with a training exercise.

Opening the door for Leia, Luke was confused to see that the room was dark. They were barely on time. Someone should be there already if only a droid setting up. More puzzling, Luke was certain he could sense people in the dark room, but why would everyone be sitting in the dark? He didn’t sense a threat. This felt more like a prank.

Beside him, Leia stiffened. Without looking, he knew her hand was on her blaster. Before Luke could say anything, all of the lights turned on and there were shouts of “Surprise!”

Leia reacted instinctively. Her blaster cleared its holster and fired before her brain realized her mistake. It was not an attack by Imperials.

The hall was decorated with streamers, balloons, and banners. Everywhere, there were handmade banners wishing Luke and Leia happy 20th birthday. A cake and other food were laid out on a table. About two dozen of their friends were gathered around. All eyes were on the center of the room where a blaster shot hung immobile in midair. A stunned silence filled the room. Luke stood with his right-hand pushing Leia’s blaster towards the floor where a second shot had struck. His left was outstretched with his hand closed in a fist like he had caught a bug. Luke lowered his hand and relaxed his fingers. The shot dropped to the floor melting a small hole.

The silence was deafening for a long moment. Leia made a choked sound as she realized she had almost shot Rex. Rex made a comment under his breath that sounded suspiciously like he was getting too old for Skywalker shenanigans which seemed a bit unfair since it was Leia who fired.

Mon Mothma stood up from where she had been seated off to the side watching. She was a bit paler but controlled the slight tremor in her voice. She held two small packages in her hand. “Happy birthday Leia and Luke. These are for you both. Open the top one first."

Leia stepped forward and accepted the packages with a smile trying to hide that she was shaken. “Mon, you should not have."

Mon smiled softly, “Leia look inside. Sometimes, we need to find joy where we can.”

Leia handed the second package to Luke to hold while she neatly unwrapped the box. Lifting the lid, she pulled out a small one-time data pad. Powering it on, it revealed a screen bearing the words, “Likelihood of fraternal relationship between specimens 99.97%”.

Luke looked down at the screen with tilted his head in puzzlement. Leia looked up at Mon not daring to ask aloud her question lest it prove incorrect.

Mon smiled. “You and Luke are twins. Your birth parents are Padme Amidala of Naboo and Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.”

Leia gasped. Luke stared dumbstruck. Leia whispered looking at her brother, “Somehow, I have always known."

Luke pulled her into a hug. After a long hug, he asked Mon Mothma, “How did you find out?”

“Bail and Breha were good friends with your mother who just happened to adopt a daughter right after her death. As you grew up, Leia, you looked so much like her and inherited her political skills. When I first heard the pilot who blew up the Deathstar was a boy with the name Skywalker who had been with Kenobi, I was curious. While I had long suspected your parentage, Leia, a boy with that name was quite unexpected.”

Mon paused before continuing, “I cannot prove what happened, but I believe Bail and Obi-Wan separated you to try to keep you both safe. Bail took you, Leia, back to Alderaan where he adopted you. Luke was taken to Tatooine to your aunt and uncle.”

“Leia, your fiery temperament and combat skills come from your father but your looks and political skills from your mother. Luke, you have your mother's temperament but your father’s abilities and looks. They would both be proud of you. Open the other package."

Luke carefully slit the tape with the edge of a thumbnail. Opening the box, he revealed a number of holo discs.

Mon explained, “They are copies of some holos that I had of your mother including several speeches."
“Thank you. I never even knew my mother’s name or that I had a sister.” Luke’s gratitude was heartfelt. Tears threatened to come.

Leia gave her mentor a hug. “Thank you for everything."

“Enjoy your party. You earned it.” Nodding to Luke, Mon Mothma left.

After Mon Mothma left, the mood instantly changed. Undoubtedly, it was part of the reason she left early. Chewie wasted no time in scooping both Luke and Leia up. After Chewie put them down, Han ruffled Luke’s hair and Leia’s temper.

The Rogues swarmed Luke congratulating him on finding his sister. Hobbie pointed out that it was a thing they had never kissed. Wedge offered Luke some moonshine with an all too innocent-smile. The Rogues still teased Luke about the one and only time he had strong alcohol.

The evening passed quickly. Laughter filled the hall. The cold was temporarily forgotten. Other gifts were given. Chewie gave each of the twins a large soft warm blanket. Han gave Luke a knapsack with a knowing look. It had a patch from Boonta’s Eve three years previously. He had found it at a thrift shop.
Leia and Luke exchanged gifts. Luke gave her a selection of hair pins and a set of combs. He knew she needed more pins. Leia gave him a warm scarf. Artoo gave them each a folding knife made from scrap metal.

The Rogues gave Luke small gifts too including large containers of glitter from Wes and Hobbie, several books on ships from Wedge, and various tools.

Leia had received gifts from various people too including holos of her parents, a bottle of wine, some holo novels, and a fur hat with ear flaps.

Rex gave each of them a small vibroknife to conceal.

There was one gift for Luke that no one knew who it was from. Inside, there was a thoughtful collection of droid and ship parts, a selection of chocolate, a rare data chip on the R2 series astromech, and a commemorative holo of his mother as queen.

The party broke up late. Luke curled up nice and snug in his new blanket with the holo of his mother on the bedside table next to his father’s lightsaber. He soon fell into an exhausted but happy sleep.

Sitting in his meditation chamber in his mansion on Coruscant, Darth Vader opened a message from his agent who had infiltrated Rogue Squadron. It contained a four-hour video taken from several angles, a brief report about Mon Mothma’s visit to the party, and a notice the package was delivered.

Setting aside the report, Vader started with the video. Undoubtedly, whatever that traitor had to say was less interesting than seeing his son. A short time later, Vader’s desk lay in ruins.

Chapter Text

Bright orange was a terrible color to wear on a battlefield…especially, on a snowfield where it tended to attract unwanted attention. The whole AT-AT thing might have annoyed the Imps a bit too.

Worse, it turns out that falling into deep snow from the belly of an AT-AT is rather unpleasant. Before the fall, Luke was not fully recovered from the wampa incident. He was tired and ached before the battle began. His head, neck, and face were especially sore from the wampa striking him. The fall just made existing pain worse and added new ones.

The only reason Luke had been able to get cleared for duty before the battle was that Kix had been sent to assist with a medical disaster on another base. Leia was too busy preparing for evacuation to notice Luke convince a medic he was ready to be released. Kix would undoubtedly have words for Luke the next time they met.

Jogging as fast as possible with his injuries and the deep snow, Luke headed to where his X-wing was waiting. Artoo would have the starfighter ready to take off as soon as the canopy closed. The overprotective astromech would be fretting. He had not approved of Luke flying in his current condition, but had been unable to reach Leia in time to prevent it.

Darting around a snow drift, Luke breathed a sigh of relief seeing his waiting ship. Grabbing the ladder, he called to Artoo to get them moving as soon as he was in. Dropping into his seat, Luke was fastening his restraints even before the canopy was half closed.

Suddenly, a loud metal crunch came from behind Luke, followed by the aggrieved sound of a motor trying to move the unmovable. The canopy froze partly open. Artoo started beeping about the errors he was getting, suggesting there was a problem with the hinge on the right side. He had shut down the motor to prevent it from burning out after trying to reopen the canopy.

Unfastening his harness, Luke knelt on his seat and wiggled partially behind the seat to get a better look. The hinge assembly was visibly damaged with fragments of something metallic caught in the gears. Carefully, Luke used a pair of pliers that he had in a pocket to extracted a chunk of foreign metal from between the teeth of the gears. The gears were damaged but with a bit of luck, if he could remove all of the fragments, the canopy could finish closing and seal.

Yoda would have to wait. Once closed, there was a significant chance the canopy would be jammed shut. Luke preferred that to occur in an Alliance hangar where a repair crew could free him.

Where the offending metal came from was puzzling. There was nothing nearby that it could have fallen off of and the canopy was in working order when the fighter was prepped earlier. Frowning, Like took a closer look. The fragments almost looked like the remains of a projectile from a large slugthrower. Yet, if there was a sniper shooting at him, why was there not another shot?

Artoo's frantic beeping alerted Luke to a new problem. Too focused on his repairs, Luke had not noticed a clink and a soft hissing behind him. Alerted by his friend, Luke belatedly noticed a cloud of smoke beginning to rise from the foot well where it was being released from a small cylinder.

Taking a deep breath, Luke untangled himself from where he was partially wedged behind his seat. Determinedly, he started wriggling under the canopy while trying not to push any controls on the instrument panel. Before he was half out, he was so tired and everything seemed unreal. A high-pitched buzzing filled the air.

“Hello, Little Jedi.” The modulated voice seemed vaguely familiar and was coming from overhead. Luke's exhausted brain refused to provide the identity. “Stay down. You’re done, Kid.”

Struggling to lift his head and focus his eyes, Luke saw several stormtroopers with jetpacks surrounding his ship. One with a red pauldron landed in front of him. Luke looked up blearily from where he lay with the canopy pressing lightly on his hips as he weakly tried to wiggle free of the craft. The last thing he was aware of was a bright blue flash.

Sergeant Kreel found it galling to watch as several snow speeders landed and the crew ran to their waiting fighters or shuttles. There was only one X-wing left. It was already prepared for takeoff by its droid.

Mick could be heard cursing over the comms. From his position, he had seen a shot down rebel pilot run under an AT-AT, shoot a tow cable into the underside, hoist himself up, ignite a blue lightsaber, slice open the access panel, turn off the blade, toss in a bomb, fall to the ground, and run in their direction after what should have been a fatal fall. Kreel ordered Mick to knock it off and keep watch over the pilot.

About ten minutes later, a pilot ran up to the last X-wing. As the canopy started to close, Misty fired a single shot, jamming the canopy part open. Snatching up another weapon, a second shot delivered a small gas canister to the open cockpit where the pilot could be seen contorting himself around the seat, trying to repair the damage from the first shot.

Whoever came up with the gas cartridge was brilliant. The canister would silently emit a clear fast fast-acting drug for ten seconds before switching to a foggy smoke with a hissing sound. Seeing the smoke, if in range, the target almost invariably took a deep breath of the sedative before the smoke reached them.

Alerted by the droid to the smoke, the pilot began attempting to escape, not knowing it was already too late. His movements were becoming increasingly slow and uncoordinated as the drug took effect.

Igniting his jetpack, Kreel and his team landed on the fighter. Kreel stared down at his helpless prey. He was somewhat disappointed that he could not fight the boy again. Annoyingly, the brat did not even seem aware of who stood over him. He could not help gloating. “Hello, Little Jedi. Stay down. You’re done, Kid."

After double-checking the selector, Kreel fired a single stun shot into the boy.

Mick stood guard over the droid. For reasons known only to himself, Vader wanted the foul-mouthed thing. The droid begrudgingly powered down the ship when ordered.

Zuke grabbed the edge of the canopy, forcing it up, and holding it open while the unconscious wannabe Jedi was pulled out. Another sedative was administered once the boy was deposited in a seat in their shuttle.

Skywalker had proven slippery in the past. More than one team had believed they had him contained, only for the boy to escape. Kreel once had thought he had the boy, only to be thrown through engineering on the Harbinger. This time, he was not taking a chance. The boy would not be allowed to regain consciousness before being delivered to Vader.

Thirty minutes later, Scar Squadron’s shuttle landed on the Executor. A small force of clone troopers was waiting to take charge of the unconscious prisoner and the droid. Oddly, some of the clones seemed to know the droid.

A medic with the party pulled out a scanner and insisted on checking the prisoner before moving him. “What did you do to him? The boy has numerous injuries. Some are partially healed, but others are fresh. That is on top of hypothermia. The Commander was supposed to be unharmed.” The medic demanded.

Kreel groans internally. He didn’t want his team blamed for Skywalker’s actions.

Mick hesitated a moment. “You’re not going to believe this. I saw the kid use a tow cable to lift himself up to the underside of an AT-AT. He used a lightsaber to open the hatch before throwing in a bomb. He fell all the way to the ground. After watching the explosion, he just got up and started running.”

The medic gave a long-suffering sigh. “Of course, he did. Probably escaped from a medbay too.” One of the other clones laughed.

The boy was soon secured on a stretcher and in route to a medbay. The droid newly fitted with a restraining bolt trundled anxiously along beside his pilot.

Lord Vader later contacted Kreel for his report. Kreel had made a copy of Skywalker taking down an AT-AT to explain his injuries. On arriving at the Dark Lord’s quarters, he was led to a private medbay. The boy floated still unconscious in a bacta tank as the Sith watched almost protectively. Surely, that was Kreel’s imagination.

Chapter Text

Hiding in a large pile of debris in a long-abandoned settlement with Luke Skywalker was not how Wedge Antilles expected to spend the day. How a routine scouting mission on a fairly uninteresting world had gone this badly was a mystery. Safe to say this planet was going to be scratched from the list of potential base locations much to his commander's dismay.

Days here were miserably hot. Wedge was not a feral desert child unlike a certain blond he was currently jealous of. He had found himself missing Hoth within an hour of landing. Luke meanwhile appeared to be happily soaking up the sunlight. Annoyingly, Luke had commented that even though the temperature was comfortable, they should still be careful at midday and at night. Much to Luke’s delight, there was an absence of sand. Wedge really did not understand Luke’s opinions about sand.

Both pilots had changed out of their flight suits. Luke had changed into his clothes from Tatooine including a floppy hat and a poncho. Wedge was wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt without a hat much to Luke’s disapproval. Luke adamantly insisted on bringing extra water, food, a medkit, and comm whenever they left camp. He always insisted that they both put on sunblock to prevent burns.

While a dry planet, there was a fair amount of life, none of which seemed in a hurry to eat them. Moisture vaporators or deep wells would be needed due to the lack of available surface water. While there was plenty of moisture in the air, Wedge preferred it in lake or river form. Their X-wings did not have the equipment to evaluate the deep lakes and rivers of some sort of liquid detected in earlier scans. They may be a viable alternative source of water or not.

A battle during the Clone Wars had forced the locals to flee leaving behind a lot of equipment that would be useful for a base. There were several old moisture farms they had investigated the previous day that Luke thought would be fairly easy to bring online. There were some abandoned mines that could be useful sources of minerals. Food would need to be imported. Luke seemed to think hydroponics could help supplement supplies.

Wedge made a mental note to emphasize in his report that Luke was comparing the planet to kriffing Tatooine. Then again, mentioning Tatooine might be a big mistake given Echo Base was on Hoth and there were sites on Mustafar and Vjun on their list to survey. High Command might decide Tatooine was a potential base location. Still, Luke’s opinion on the planet Mirage after a month on Hoth was a bit like asking Admiral Ackbar if he liked the ocean planet Kamino that they surveyed previously.

Leaving camp the third morning, the two pilots headed for the settlement itself. Made up of around 80 mud brick buildings, it was pretty small to Wedge’s mind. Luke seemed to think it was quite large. Once again, Wedge was reminded just how incredibly sheltered the teen was before joining the Rebellion.

Time had taken its toll. About half of the buildings were in ruins, and Wedge had serious doubts about the stability of many of the rest. There were two working vaporators and associated purification equipment in the center of town providing a convenient place to replenish their water supplies. Luke found a couple of speeders, one of which he somehow managed to get working despite being abandoned to the elements longer than Wedge had been alive. It would undoubtedly be useful for the rest of the mission.

One of Luke’s bad feelings provided them with just enough warning to hide in one of the piles of rubble. Now though, they were effectively trapped. A few ration bars and two canteens of water each were all of the supplies they had. While food would not become an issue for some days, water was already a concern. Luke’s tan poncho was now rigged to provide shade and some additional cover.

Five Imperial shuttles had landed and disgorged stormtroopers who immediately began searching the area. A star destroyer was in orbit. The occasional distinctive whine of a TIE could be heard. It seemed unlikely that the stormtroopers could know they were there. Yet they were clearly looking for something or someone. While exploring Wedge had not seen evidence of smugglers or any other recent activity.

The X-wings were well hidden about three miles away inside of an abandoned mine. The remaining metal in the mines should prevent the fighters from showing up on the various ships' scopes. Both astromechs had remained with the fighters. Artoo was doing a survey of the mineshafts. Undoubtedly, the droids were already aware of the Imperial activity.

Hours crept past. Their hiding place was rapidly transforming into an oven. If the heat continued to increase, facing the stormtroopers would become the safer option.

The sun was blazing overhead when Luke whispered “Something is wrong.”

Wedge bit back a sarcastic retort. He settled for an “Oh?” instead. After all, they were only being slowly cooked alive while surrounded by enemies.

“Beyond the obvious.” Luke amended. Wedge glanced over at the little Jedi. “It is strange, it feels like a presence is around me in the Force. It is like I have always known it. It should scare me but it doesn’t. It reminds me of Aunt Beru holding me.”

Wedge noticed that fear was gone from Luke's face. The teen seemed strangely relaxed. He almost felt guilty given how bad things were, but Wedge leaned over and grabbed his arm hard attempting to snap Luke out of it. Weirdly, the air around Luke was almost cool.

“It keeps whispering that I am safe. Telling me not to struggle and just rest. ” Luke's words were sounding increasingly slurred. His eyes had lost focus. If Wedge did not know better, he would have thought Luke was on drugs.

Luke smiled dazedly. He was looking at a point behind Wedge. “Hi,” Luke said dreamily an instant before Wedge felt a blaster pressed against his head.

“Hands up slowly." Came a harsh voice from behind him. “Both of you.” Snapped the voice after Luke failed to comply but just blinked up at the two stormtroopers.

“Look at him, the kid is out of it,” Wedge spoke up. His arms had already been jerked roughly behind his back and binders fastened around his wrists. Luke meanwhile had flopped on his back and was sleepily watching a bird overhead.

“Find something, trooper? “ An unmodulated voice came from the ground near the debris. A high-ranking officer based on the tone and lack of a helmet.

“Sir, a young man and a teenage boy are hiding in the rubble up here. Both are openly carrying blasters. The kid is not following orders and is acting like he is on something. Neither have been violent.” Promptly answered the stormtrooper. “We will need help bringing them down. I don't think the boy will be able to climb even if he can stand.”

“CC-2224, take a couple of men and get them down. Check them for additional weapons.” Ordered the as-yet unseen officer.

“General Veers, request permission to take CT-6116, sir? He can evaluate the boy's condition.” Asked presumably CC-2224.

“Permission granted. If the boy is faking or if it is caused by the environment, we need to know.” Agreed the officer who apparently was General Veers.

What was Death Squadron’s general doing here? Wedge had a sinking feeling that their mission was compromised. He did not need the Force to know that there were just too many coincidences. Luke being Red 5 was a closely guarded secret by order of High Command. If the Empire had found out and knew he would be here, it would explain the search. It also meant the spy was very well-placed. At the same time, if the Imps had that good of intelligence, why were they not already identified?

Four more stormtroopers climbed into the concealed hollow. One was a medic, who immediately went to Luke. After asking a few questions of the first troopers, the medic turned to Wedge.

Before the medic asked, Wedge volunteered information without mentioning names, “He had seemed fine until he started saying weird things about ten minutes earlier. He had not fallen or eaten anything odd. The kid had not complained of being bitten. He had been handling the heat fine. No, he did not use drugs.”

“Okay ad'ika, I am Kix, I just going to take a look at you. Did you get hurt? Have you taken anything?” asked Kix. He had wasted no time before starting to scan Luke.

Luke sort of looked at Kix before commenting, his voice slurred, “Uncle Ben used to talk about clones.” After a moment, he added, “One was named Kix.” Kix nearly dropped his scanner. Wedge listened with growing horror. “Did you know Uncle Ben and my dad?”

Wedge started thinking desperately over and over for Luke to shut up. Luke either did not notice or care. “Uncle Ben said it was not Cody's fault. ” He added dreamily.

Wedge heard a strange sound behind him. A butterfly flew past distracting Luke from his unsettling comments. Wedge renewed his efforts of thinking “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” at Luke.

“Wedge, Aunt Beru said it is not nice to say shut up or yell at people .” Luke practically whined before returning to watching the butterfly.

Wedge had no idea what was going on, but Luke’s slurred comments were clearly unsettling the stormtroopers. “Uncle Rex said my Dad used to sneak out of medbay all the time and Kix would drag him back.”

One of the stormtroopers could be heard whisper Rex.

With a seeming effort of will, Kix returned to his examination. After a few minutes, Kix announced that besides dehydration, the boy appeared fine. Based on his neural scans, the boy was not faking. There was no clear explanation for the boy’s condition.

“Force ossik?” One of the newer arrivals who was now standing behind Wedge asked.

“Maybe. It would explain a lot.” Wedge stifled a groan of dismay at the medics’ response.

CC-2224 asked. "Kix is it safe to sedate the boy? He will need to be carried down the debris slope. He may be small, but could cause an accident if he moved at the wrong time.”

Kix considered for a moment, “It should be unless he has allergies.” Kix turned to Wedge who merely shrugged. “Moving him on a stretcher would help too.”

The medic turned back to his patient. Noticing the cord to Luke’s pennant, he carefully pulled it free. Holding clear of Luke’s shirt, Kix called the stormtrooper in charge, “Hey Cody, do you remember the senator?”

A crunching noise and a curse as broken bricks tumbled down the path heralded the arrival of two more stormtroopers with a stretcher.

“That looks like the pennant she always wore. Appo, search both prisoners. Be extra thorough with the boy. The senator always had hidden weapons.” CC-2224 ordered one of the stormtroopers who just arrived.

Kix packed his gear after injecting his patient with a sedative. The stormtrooper, Appo, searched Luke finding a second small blaster, two tiny vibroblades, a set of lock picks, and finally pulling his lightsaber out from behind Luke. The stormtrooper drew a sharp breath as he stared down at the lightsaber. Turning to CC-2224, he held it out, “This was the General’s.”

“So, is it too late to claim the pot from the betting pool?” Kix inquired.

Bewildered, Wedge wondered why General Veers had a lightsaber and why Luke now had it. Was General Veers really Luke’s father? Did Zev know? What was that about a senator?

Kix gently scooped Luke up in his arms and laid him down on the stretcher. Luke barely opened his eyes as he was moved. His eyes had closed again before Kix finished strapping him down securely.

Ordered forward, Wedge carefully picked his way down the debris pile escorted by two stormtroopers. Climbing down was perilous, especially with his wrists bound behind his back. The remaining stormtroopers followed behind. Luke’s stretcher brought up the rear.

Reaching the ground, Wedge and his guards were met by a couple of officers, including a general.

“CC-2224, what did you find?” The general demanded.

Pushing Wedge forward a step, Cody responded, “This young man and a boy who is still being carried down. Apart from the boy's mysterious condition, he was carrying a couple of objects that Lord Vader would want to be informed about. He may consider this very sensitive.”

General Veers and Cody walked away from the other Imps. Wedge could not hear what was said although the General looked perturbed. If he gets out of this, he really needs to learn to read lips. He did not get to watch the entire discussion before he was frog-marched to one of the waiting shuttles.

Shoved on a bench, his wrists were unbound from behind his back only to be fastened to a rail over his head. Crash webbing was fastened roughly around him, but probably not for his safety. Puzzlingly, Luke was lifted carefully from the stretcher onto a pull-out biobed.

Wedge could hear a couple of the oddly uniform-height stormtroopers talking quietly having gathered near the biobed. He could not hear everything, but he distinctly heard Skywalker, jetii, senator, and Force. Some of the words Wedge recognized as Mando'a from some of the Clones in the Rebellion.

Leaning his head back, Wedge pretended to doze. He didn't need the Force to know they were in big trouble. His headache from the heat was getting worse.

Chapter Text

When Admiral Ackbar suggested that Luke check the moon orbiting the planet Nautila near the Mon Cala system for the ruins of an ancient Jedi temple and library, Luke was elated.

Leia reluctantly granted her friend a week's leave to go explore. She had been worried about him going, although she could not explain why. Luke promised to be careful. Before setting out, Luke had looked up the planet. Only limited information was available.

Luke had easily found the ruins from his X-wing, but there was nowhere very close by to land due to the swampy terrain. He may have very little experience with wet environments, but he knew landing in a swamp was a bad idea. He really did not want to risk getting stuck or worse the fighter sinking. He was not sure what would be worse, having to call for help, facing Leia's displeasure, Chewie's fussing, or the heckling from Han and the Rogues. Eventually, Artoo spotted a ridge of rocks, about 8 km away from the ruin, large enough to land.

Luke had never seen a swamp before and had only rarely seen standing water. His initial enthusiasm for exploring the swamp was quickly dampened by the misery of being cold and wet, tormented by swarms of insects, slogging through mud that sucked at his feet, and stumbling into deep water that was all the way up to his knees. Why would anyone want to build a temple in a slimy mud hole?

Leia’s concern may be justified. Not that Luke would admit it to her if he could avoid it. There was an unsettling feeling he was being watched. As the day progressed, there was a steadily growing sense of danger.

He did not even have Artoo for company. The faithful droid had been forced to remain at the X-wing. The terrain was nearly impassable for him. He tried to follow before falling into the water that covered his dome. Fortunately, Artoo was able to get himself out. Sighing, Luke reflected he would be cleaning mud from the little droid for the next month.

Water dripped from the twisted dark green leaves of the trees overhead slowly soaking Luke. The light drizzle had started an hour after he started his hike. It was only broken by brief spells of heavy rain. After trudging for three hours, Luke was forced to come to the conclusion that he had badly underestimated how long it would take to hike to the temple.

Checking the map on the datapad showing his location relative to the ruins and the ship confirmed his suspicions. He had only covered roughly a kilometer and a half as the sand blows. The map had recorded his winding journey. At this rate, not only was there no hope of reaching the ruins before dark, but he ran the risk of being stuck in the swamp overnight. Not only would that be extremely unpleasant even if he found somewhere fairly dry, but he still had the feeling of something unfriendly watching his every move.

Reluctantly, Luke decided to turn back. Tomorrow, he would try to find somewhere closer or have Artoo drop him off. Luke knew astromechs were not supposed to fly solo, but Artoo was quite capable.

The return trip seemed to take even longer. Whether it was because Luke was no longer fresh or simply had lost his enthusiasm, he could not have said. After another hour of slogging through the kriffing swamp, Luke thought he heard something. He could have sworn he had heard a ship. No one else should be on this planet though. Deciding it was his imagination, Luke continued his weary journey.

After another half hour, Luke knew he could hear a buzzing sound like some sort of small jet and the whine of at least one swoop bike. The jet noises were coming from different directions. They did not sound like a speeder and were not powerful enough to be a ship. Frowning, he decided that whatever they were, they probably were not friendly and the source of his unease.

Spotting a downed tree partly submerged with its leaves still on, Luke quickly waded and slipped his way to the trunk. Carefully, he climbed onto the trunk. The bark was slightly slimy and the muck sticking to his boots did not help his grip. Desperation and tenacity got Luke into his hiding place. Getting back to more solid ground was a problem for future Luke.

Hunkering down on his precarious perch on a thin branch that bent under his weight, Luke was grateful for the mud and grime covering his jacket from an earlier fall. He loved his jacket, but yellow was not the best color for hiding. All he could do was wait.

The bike and jets were coming closer. Luke was having trouble pinning down their locations. They seemed to be coming from all directions, but that had to be a mistake. He was in the middle of a swamp nowhere near settlements. Maybe they were also heading for the temple? Closing his eyes to listen, Luke noted that the swoop had stopped a ways away. Without checking his map, he was fairly sure it was between him and his ship but could not be certain.

“Come on out, slowly.” The sudden sound of the modulated voice startled Luke nearly causing him to lose his footing.

Peering through the leaves, Luke saw three stormtroopers hovering in midair. Jetpacks. The odd noise was jetpacks. Judging by the sound, he was surrounded. How did they even find him? Not only were there no settlements or outposts on the moon, but how could they locate him in the swamp? Carefully turning so as not to lose his footing, he recognized one of the stormtroopers behind him. That settled it, this was no accident.

Sergeant Kreel called to him again, irritation dripping from his voice, “Playtime is over kid. Let's go. Hiding in that tree will not save you.”

“Hey, Sarge! There is something moving in the water.” Another stormtrooper called out.

“Misty, what did you see?”

“Unknown, Sir. It is big. I have only seen glimpses.” Came the prompt response.

“Kid, let’s go. Our Boss will be angry if you get eaten by a swamp monster.”

Luke felt the tree shudder as something bumped it underwater. That uneasy feeling from earlier was now worse.

“Kriff, what is that? Kid, get higher, now!” Kreel commanded.

Luke caught a glimpse of something breaking the surface causing water to lap over his branch. The Force was screaming in warning. Desperately, he grabbed a higher branch trying to pull himself up, but his left hand slipped tearing the skin on his palm.

Ignoring the pain and freely bleeding gash, Luke grabbed the branch again. Obeying the prompting of the Force, he swung his legs up. A tentacle snaked through the area he had just been kneeling. The tree shook as the creature struck it in rage. Luke managed to retain his grasp but it was a near thing. Swinging his legs up, he wrapped them around the branch. He knew he needed to get higher. Pulling himself with difficulty onto the slippery branch, there was no time to pause. He tried reaching for another, but it was just out of his reach without letting go of the one he was on.

A tentacle shot from the water again grabbing his ankle. Luke fell but was able to get his arms around the branch he had just been standing on. Blood trickled down his chin from where it hit the branch. When the creature tried to tug him off the branch, Luke’s boot slipped off. Pain shot up his leg. The sturdy leather had protected him from cuts, but it felt like bones may have been broken. Luke pulled himself back up onto the branch.

The creature tried to grab him again but this time Luke was ready. His father’s lightsaber ignited as he swung it at the attacking tentacles. A weird undulating cry sounded from the water as the severed tentacles fell back. Luke could feel the creature’s fury.

Blaster fire began raining down into the water. Below, the water churned furiously before going still. The torn remnants of Luke’s boot bobbed to the surface. Luke wanted to believe it was dead but knew it was very much alive. He could feel its malevolent gaze on him.

“I think we got it!” One of the stormtroopers called out.

“No, I can feel it. It is alive and angry.” Luke called back. In the distance, he could hear the swoop coming closer. An invisible icy touch ran possessively over him.

“Do not get distracted this time kid. Get high up so we can get you.” Kreel called back.

“Not happening.” Luke defiantly shouted back.

Kreel made an exasperated sound, but his retort was interrupted by the creature. A sudden blow to the tree made the whole thing shift. Above Luke, Kreel circled trying to figure out how to get him. If Luke stayed where he was, the creature would grab him. If he went higher, the Imps would drag him off.

Another blow snapped off the branch Luke was standing on. He was left dangling by one hand from the branch he had just grabbed hold of. He was running out of places to cling.

With a roar, the swoop bike tore into the small clearing. Luke gasped when he saw the menacing figure on it. Why did it have to be Vader?

Vader slashed viciously at a tentacle that made the mistake of trying to grab him. “Boy, climb higher so my men can reach you.”

“Why!? So you can murder me like you did my father and Ben Kenobi?” Luke yelled back. He could feel Vader’s rage boiling through the Force. Luke had braced his legs up against another branch. There were now about 3 meters between him and the water. He was far enough inside the tree to make it hard for Kreel's men to reach him. The branches were close together and he was easily the smallest present. His leg was in agony from when the creature tried to pull him in. Luke was far from certain his leg could support him. His cut hand and chin were dripping blood.

An annoyed sound escaped Vader, “I did not murder your father. This is not the time. Climb higher now!”

“No!” Luke shouted right before the creature struck the tree again.

Under assault from the creature, the tree shifted again before rolling over. Luke fell landing draped over a partially submerged branch. Igniting his lightsaber, he again struck at the tentacles that tried to pull him the rest of the way under.

Luke tried desperately to pull himself out of the water. In the distance, a ship's engines could be heard coming closer. Grabbing his comm, he shouted for Artoo right before he was jerked underwater. For a few seconds, he thought he was once again in the trash compactor on the Deathstar.

Striking the encircling tentacles, Luke managed to free himself. He bobbed gasping to the surface. The tree was now a long way away. The stormtroopers were firing all around him. At least, Scar Squadron could aim, unlike most stormtroopers.

Luke felt Vader grasp him with the Force lifting him out of the water. The creature was not about to give up its next meal that easily. It grabbed Luke around the middle. He screamed in agony as Vader and the creature tugged at him. Vader hacked at the tentacles holding Luke but somehow more just kept coming.

A roar of engines announced the arrival of Artoo in the X-wing. The ship’s S-foils were already separated in attack position. The water flashed into steam where its blaster fire struck. The creature thrashed in agony with Luke still wrapped in tentacles as Artoo continued to fire. After what felt like an eternity, but was really only seconds, the creature gave a last shudder before going still. The tentacles had tightened its grasp on Luke in its death spasms and not released. The youth screamed as the monster squeezed in death.

Vader threw his lightsaber severing the dead creature's tentacles that grasped his child. Both blades flew to his hands. Gently, he levitated his son’s limp body to his side. Quickly, he unwrapped the severed tentacles.

Vader had been ignoring the frantic calls from the pilot he had ordered to fly the X-wing to the Devastator. Whatever Black-3's problem was, it was secondary to the attack on his son. With Luke secure in his lap, Vader began paying attention. The X-wing now appeared to be trying to ram the members of Scar Squadron. Demanding an explanation, his pilot frantically explained that the astromech had seized control of the fighter. Familiar beeping could be heard spewing a truly impressive stream of invective. How could Luke have found R2-D2?

Keying Artoo’s com number from memory, he activated the droid’s override. Ignoring the outraged beeping, he ordered the droid to power down. Black-3 regained control of the fighter. His relief palpable in the Force.

Gathering Luke into his arms, he jumped up onto the fighter. More tentacles shot out of the water and pulled the swoop bike under. He ordered Black-3 and Scar Squadron to go up to 15 m.

Summoning the lambda shuttle, Vader waited with his son in his arms. Studying the boy’s face for the first time, Vader marveled at the life he and Padme created. A violent coughing fit disturbed his musing. The boy's breathing did not sound good. Carefully, he shifted the boy so his head was elevated easing his breathing a bit.

Fear tore at him. Surely, the Force would not take his child too.

After two terrifying hours, Vader was permitted by the Devastator’s CMO to see Luke. His presence was peaceful as he floated in the bacta tank. A respirator covered the lower portion of his face. Angry welts and incisions stood in horrid contrast to his pale skin. His child was supposed to make a full recovery. Measures had already been taken to prevent scarring and eliminate existing ones.

A datapad sitting on the nearby table had a lengthy list of new and old injuries. Luke stirred uneasily as his father’s fury reached him. Vader growled as he wrestled his anger down. The boy had a difficult enough road with sensing his rage. Placing his hand on the tank, he reached for his son with the Force and soothed his distress. Soon, Luke was at peace again.

Vader smiled feeling the bond between them slowly strengthen. The boy was his. No one would take him away again. No one, not even the Emperor, would be allowed to harm him. When Luke was strong enough, they had much to discuss.

Chapter Text

It was one of those days. After spending nine and a half hours traveling, the Rogues and two other squadrons dropped from hyperspace at the location where a temporary Imperial supply staging area was supposed to be. Instead of the organized chaos of freighters arriving and departing while cargo was moved between ships, empty space greeted the X-wings and A-wings. The mission was a bust.

After searching the surrounding system and finding nothing of interest, the fighters dispersed to begin their long trip home. A trip that was about eight hours longer than the flight out since the fleet had been about to head to their “new” base in nearly the opposite direction.

Back in hyperspace, Luke Skywalker unfastened his harness and stretched in his seat. It had been a long day and the mission while already a failure, was not half over. It was not the first time recently that intelligence was badly off. The last three missions Luke had flown with the Rogues had gone sideways due to bad or outdated intel. Thankfully, no one had died on any of those missions. That was something, but morale was still taking a hit. Tomorrow, he really should discuss ideas with Wedge and Shara on how to raise spirits.

Luke pulled open the storage compartment beside his seat without looking. He had not eaten anything since they left and the canteen of flavored water he had brought with him from Home One was long since empty. The rations available for their squadron were unappealing at best and horrible at worst. Most were expired and rarely were any vegetarian. He would not refuse what he was given, but did find himself procrastinating about meals. Ben had believed his problem with meat was because Luke was able to sense something of the death of the creature. While not a common problem for Jedi, it was not particularly rare.

Reaching into the compartment, he fished out a ration bar and felt for a water. The first bottle he pulled out was empty, as was the second, and then the third. Groaning, he twists in his seat and looks into the compartment. All of the bottles were empty including the reserve that he had replaced before this mission. The compartment is not watertight so most of the water had seeped into the space below. Perfect. Not only did he not have any water, but it had also leaked into the inside of the craft. If Luke remembered the X-wing’s blueprints correctly, it was hydraulic lines directly below the compartment. It should be fine, although the ship would need to be dried out and checked for water damage before its next flight.

Examining one of the bottles, he decides the seal was improperly applied. For that many bottles to be badly sealed, there was a good chance he was not the only one with water issues. Sighing, he tossed the empty bottles back in the compartment. Luke settled into his seat with his ration bar. Bantha…ick. Expired bantha…double ick.

Growing up on Tatooine had taught him the importance of having several days of supplies when traveling anywhere even if it was just to the Darklighter's or Tosche Station. Being around eighteen hours from the fleet without water was concerning. Luke knew he could go that long without water. He would be fine until arriving at the fleet so long as nothing happened.

Artoo worriedly asked if something was wrong. He explained the water situation to his droid friend. Artoo suggested diverting to resupply. They were six hours from Naboo. Stopping on a strange planet all alone, was hazardous. It would also about double his time to return to the fleet. Luke considered before deciding to continue on their current course. He would be fine. Artoo beeped his concern, but agreed. Being without water was risky, but so was stopping on Naboo. Luke’s bounty had grown to a truly ridiculous amount. It was far higher than for any Jedi Master or member of High Command. Even weirder were the instructions to be alive and unharmed.

Grimacing, Luke bit into his ration bar. It was dry to eat without anything to wash it down. Finishing, he neatly folded the wrapper up and slipped it into his pocket. After notifying Artoo, Luke settled in to meditate.

The trip passed relatively swiftly between napping, meditation, and reading. Yavin-IV soon filled his window. Whether the decision to reoccupy the base was an act of lunacy or brilliance, Luke couldn't make up his mind. The planet was beautiful though. It was so green. Chewie had even promised to teach him how to climb the trees when they had some downtime. Luke spotted a large waterfall. He would definitely need to check that out.

Landing in the hangar Luke stretched before climbing down the ladder. He quickly filled out a request for a mechanic to make sure the water had not caused damage and to make sure the fighter was dried out. He also stopped by the quartermaster to leave a complaint about the faulty seals on the water. Luke trusted the quartermaster, Captain Talon, to make sure those issued to the Rogues and the other squadrons were checked. He would still check with his pilots tomorrow and would send a message to the other squadron commanders before heading to bed.

Luke grabbed a bottle of water from the pilot’s lounge on his way to the shower. He needed both badly. It had been a long mission. Other pilots from the returning squadrons were heading in the same direction. A couple were grumbling about leaky water rations. Luke was not surprised. If all of his were faulty, it was unlikely he was the only one with them.

Even after months with the Rebels, Luke was not comfortable with the communal showers and locker rooms. He quickly cleaned up and changed feeling much better.

He was the first Rogue in the mess hall. Along with the usual rations, there were fresh fruit and vegetables from the surrounding jungles. Luke happily filled a plate. He picked up a second water to help with his dehydration.

Wedge soon dropped his tray on the table across from him. The friends chatted while they ate. Neither broached the elephant in the room. Wedge was the only survivor from Red Squadron from when it was stationed here. Luke had lost his best childhood friend. The Death Star may have been destroyed, but it had been an expensive victory.

Other Rogues trickled in. Some joined Luke and Wedge while others split off to join other friends. After a while, Luke picked up his empty tray. Wishing his friends a good night, he returned it before picking up another water.

Before heading to the lounge for his room assignment, he stopped by his ship to retrieve an old training guide on levitation from his X-wing. A box with his personal effects would have already been dropped off in his new quarters. Not that he had much. He had escaped Tatooine with the clothes on his back and his father’s lightsaber. He had picked up a few things since but everything still easily fit in a single crate.

Spotting Chewie on the other side of the hangar through an open door to the lounge, Luke left his water and his book on a table and hurried out to greet him. After greeting his young friend with a bone-crushing hug, the Wookiee affectionately ruffled his head before shooing Luke off towards bed. Laughing, Luke promised to catch up with Chewie the following day.

Picking up his things, Luke looked up his room assignment from the list hanging on the wall. Room 42 was a double room but no one else was currently assigned. Not bad, but he would prefer to know who he might share with. If it is someone objectionable, Han and Chewie would probably let him sleep on the Falcon. Luke had an uneasy feeling they would not be here long.

Whoever had set up the rooms and signs had done a good job. He had no trouble locating his room without resorting to the map that Leia had downloaded on his datapad. Nice, there was a large window with a desk beneath. His box was sitting on his bunk waiting for him. A shelf was next to the head of each bunk for storage and doubled as a bedside table. Next to the desk was a droid charging port. Artoo had already made himself comfortable.

After his quarters had been repeatedly searched and bugged by a spy, High Command had implemented tighter security around him. The holo of Luke sleeping that was found in Vader’s quarters was particularly unnerving.

One of those security measures was installing a charging port so Artoo could keep watch as he slept or meditated. Wes had half-jokingly suggested asking for a loan of a refurbished B1 battle droid. Artoo had been offended. Wes quickly took back his suggestion in the face of the feisty droid’s ire.

A note left on the desk from the security team informed Luke that the room had been swept for recording devices. There was an alarm on the window with instructions on how to open it before giving a stern warning about leaving it open for long periods or unattended. A better lock for the door was on order but would not arrive for several days.

Luke set his things down on the shelf. Pulling his toothbrush from the crate, he headed to the refresher at the end of the hall.

Returning to his quarters, he tried looking out the window but could not see much in the darkness. Pulling the curtain over it, he prepared for bed. His blaster and lightsaber were within easy reach on the shelf. Drinking the last of the water, he left the empty bottle on the desk. He would drop it off at the mess hall in the morning.

Exhaustedly curling up in his new bed, Luke flipped the lights off with the Force. Lying on his lumpy mattress with its coarse sheets and scratchy blanket, he found himself missing his bed at home which led to painful memories of hearing Aunt Beru making breakfast when he woke. A tear slipped down his cheek as he drifted off. Not even grief or nightmares would keep him awake tonight.

Luke slowly woke up. Too comfortable and warm to want to move or open his eyes, he drifts on the edge of sleep. Artoo would wake him if there was a problem or if it was time to get up. Until then, he could just enjoy dozing in the nice comfy bed. He snuggled deeper into the soft blankets before falling back asleep having never fully woken up.

Chapter Text

A young bounty hunter stood over the bound form of his prey with satisfaction. That this was the highest-paying bounty he had captured was almost a bonus. The sleemo was a query that any Mandalorian would delight in capturing. While Mando was not in the habit of accepting Imperial bounties, in this case, he would have been happy to catch this one for free if he did not have his tribe depending on him. The large bounty would buy a lot of supplies.

The bounty was a former elite stormtrooper who had been kidnapping, raping, and slowly torturing children to death for years. The demagolka had slipped through the fingers of law enforcement for nearly a decade before he had made the mistake of targeting a moff's teenage twins. Fortunately, the children were rescued, but the outraged parent had enlisted the aid of the Guild with the promise of a very lucrative bounty.

Dragging his captive over the sand to the rented speeder, Mando was quite pleased with how the hunt had gone. Soon, he would be off this sandy hellhole and on his way back to Nevarro. In the distance, he could hear the sound of a rapidly approaching speeder belonging to the demagolka’s intended prey. Under his helmet, he smiled. The child would never know how much danger he had been in.

In the distance, he could just make out the robed form of his informant standing on the edge of the canyon rim watching.

Chapter Text

Finally. His agents had brought him a disgruntled Rebel pilot with information about Kenobi’s padawan.

Luke Skywalker. The Force roared in excitement. The boy was the son of Anakin Skywalker. Vader’s thoughts and emotions whirled like a starfighter in combat. Spinning and darting through the cold of space.

The child who lacked the training to hold a lightsaber properly was the son of Padme. The child who was apparently stolen by Kenobi but left untaught. Did his former master even let his wife hold their child before stealing him? Why give him the weapon without teaching him to wield it?

Luke was the basic form of Lukka. The name meant light in Nabooian and free in Amatakka. His wife had loved the name Lukka when he had told her of some of his people’s legends. Padme must have lived long enough to name their son. He did not kill her. It was as though a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

Why would his Master lie about this? Why lie about the death of his precious wife and child for whom he had sacrificed everything to save? Did his Master know or suspect Luke survived?

Power. Was the Emperor after the boy’s power?

Vader remembered well the first time Anakin had felt his son shine with the light of the twin suns while still in his mother’s womb. He had never forgotten feeling their bond spring to life when he gently caressed his unborn child in the Force. His blood ran cold at the thought of a foul hand reaching for his radiant child to snuff out his light or life.

Luke Skywalker…Lukka Ekkreth… Named after one of the mighty twin dragons of legends. Odd. Lukka and Lahya. Luke and Leia. The Force whispered in excitement as though he was on the verge of a galaxy-shaking revelation.

His beeping comm had long gone disregarded. The door to the observation deck opened. Vader spun with a snarl at the intruder. Captain Piett stood his ground just inside the door. Hiding his fear, Piett stood at attention. “Lord Vader, the Emperor demands to speak with you at once.”

Vader resisted the urge to strangle the officer who dared disturb him. Piett was one of the most competent officers in the fleet. Ozzel had likely sent him with the hopes that Vader would kill him. Vader was well aware of the hatred Ozzel had for the captain.

With a snarl, he stormed from the room. Desperately, he wrestled his emotions into an approximation of control. The Emperor could not find out about the boy. Plans need to be made. The informant had known his son’s next mission. Vague outlines of a plan began to take shape. Piett would be useful. Veers was dependable. Naboo…there were those scientists on Naboo. When briefed, he had been dismissive, but now…

Kneeling on the communication pad, Vader waited. His depur Master was cruel. It was like him to force him to wait after summoning Vader. The hologram of the Emperor crackled to life. Planning would wait. Now was a time of secrecy.

Tatooine. Han's contact just had to be on Tatooine.

Luke, Wedge, and Hobbie had taken refuge from the midday suns inside a cantina in Mos Espa where they were supposed to meet Han's contact in a few hours. The cantina was busy with other patrons escaping the heat, making illicit deals, or just drowning their cares. A live band in the corner with a female Twi’lek singing lewd songs in Huttese made talking difficult. Some dancers circulated through the crowd. Clouds of noxious smoke drifted through the establishment.

Luke was glad the other two pilots were with him. Although Wedge and Hobbie were friends, he would still rather have Han, Leia, or Chewie. While both of his companions possessed more street smarts than Luke, none of them had anywhere near as much as Han…not that Luke would admit it to him. Chewie’s reassuring presence was enough to deter most criminals. Leia could intimidate Trandoshan bounty hunters and battle-hardened Alliance shock troops without lifting a finger or her voice. Luke had no idea how she did it and was a bit jealous.

The meeting could not come fast enough. Not only were the surroundings not to Luke’s taste, but he was again attracting the wrong sort of attention from the other patrons only this time Ben and Chewie were not nearby. He still occasionally had nightmares about the attack. The bantha milk sitting in front of him did not help him get taken seriously. Wedge and Hobbie had laughed at his choice of drink before ordering spotchka. Both were enjoying his obvious discomfort. His friends nursed their drinks since they were on a mission and getting drunk on Tatooine was hazardous at the best of times.

Raising Luke’s anxiety was a disreputable group who had been watching him covetously for the last half hour. A serving girl had whispered a warning that they were slavers when dropping off his milk refill.

Hobbie came back to their table after a trip to the refresher with an odd look on his face. After hesitating a moment, he asked, “Luke, wasn't Lars your guardians’ name?”

“It was.” Luke being bored, decided against making it easy for Hobbie with whatever he was clearly dying to ask.

“A Lukka Lars won the Boonta Eve three years ago and again last year,” Hobbie asked fishing for information. Wedge choked on his spotchka.

“Yep.”

“Is that your cousin? I always heard humans aren’t supposed to be able to podrace.”

“Nope.” Luke really needed to work on his sabbac face.

“There was also an Anakin Skywalker who had won.”

“Yep.” Luke was trying very hard not to laugh. His one-word answers were annoying Hobbie.

Wedge was still making miserable noises after accidentally snorting some of his drink into his sinuses when he choked. Grinning at his friend, Luke raised his glass, “Bantha milk does not take paint off a speeder.”

Hobbie laughed at Wedge’s rude gesture before looking back at Luke. “Are you related to that Anakin Skywalker?”

Luke smiled innocently as he sipped his milk, “Yep.”

Hobbie looked unimpressed.

Luke decided to take pity on his friend. “My father. He won his freedom in that race. I am the first freeborn Skywalker in generations.”

“Your father was a slave? Slavery was illegal in the Republic.” Hobbie asked confusedly.

“Maybe in the Core, but out here on the Rim, it was common and still is. My father and grandmother were both born into it. My father won his freedom. Grandmother Shmi was freed by Uncle Owen's father when they married.”

Hobbie considered this, “Kark. Wait, I thought your dad was a Jedi?”

“He was. After winning, he left Tatooine with the Jedi.”

Wedge, having recovered sufficiently from inhaling strong alcohol, pointedly steered the conversation away from Jedi, “It was you wasn’t it who won those two races?”

Luke smiled mischievously, “It was. I had heard about my father’s victory and decided I wanted to try. Biggs and I built the podracer with scraps from junkyards. He helped me enter the first time and acted as support crew. My aunt and uncle did not find out what I had done until last year. The year before last, I had broken an arm climbing the cliffs in Beggar’s Canyon preventing me from competing. Last year, I needed the winnings since I knew we did not have enough water for Jabba’s water taxes. Uncle Owen accepted the credits but still grounded me.”

Wedge shook his head, “The Princess will kill you if she catches you pod-racing.”

Luke laughed, “Chewie and Han would be pretty upset too.”

“How are you not dead? Seriously, you are always doing crazy stuff.” Hobbie asked.

“Will of the Force?” Luke offered with a smirk. Hobbie groaned theatrically.

Hobbie noticed a Twi’lek enter. “Look, our contact is here.”

“Let’s get this over with. Luke’s admirers in the corner are starting to worry me.” Wedge dropped their talisman on the table.

The Twi’lek approached suspiciously. “I was expecting Solo.”

Luke smiled apologetically, “Sorry, he couldn’t make it.”

“This isn’t a kriffing game kid. Does your mommy know where you are?” The disdain dripping from his words practically formed a puddle.

“Hey, we are here to do business. Were you able to get the supplies or not? Our employer will be displeased and may reconsider doing future business.” Wedge demanded. He used the tone of voice usually reserved for pilots or mechanics who displeased him. He shot Luke a pointed look saying to let him handle it. The young commander tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement.

The arms dealer studied Wedge and Hobbie before agreeing to bargain. Luke, he ignored.

Several hours later, they found themselves in a warehouse near the landing pad where they had parked the light freighter Eopie. Night had fallen and temperatures had dropped. Luke had retrieved his oversized yellow jacket from the freighter. He clipped his lightsaber to a loop inside of his jacket concealing it.

He felt uneasy. Was it a warning from the Force or the result of having been taught not to go outside after dark from a young age?

Being outside at night made him uneasy even on their bases. When Chewie had found out, he insisted on taking Luke for walks at night to help him get used to it. Luke had learned to enjoy being outside with Chewie or with a group of pilots, but he still became anxious when alone. The Rogues and Han had laughed until an irate Chewie explained with Threepio translating. Unfortunately, Threepio had also translated Chewie’s name for Luke as Little Lost Cub. Leia had to intervene to keep the Rogues from changing Luke’s call sign.

After the crates were delivered by their supplier, Luke methodically popped the lid off each crate to check the contents like Han had taught him. There were blasters charges, medical supplies, and even a battered Separatist medical droid. The dealer was impatient to be done but had decided the trio of Rebels was worth humoring. It was Tatooine after all. So long as Jabba got his cut, no one would care if they were buying crates of weapons or jogan fruit.

Finally satisfied, Luke resealed the last case and moved it with Hobbie's help to their hoversled. Wedge finished paying the arms dealer while Hobbie pushed the last sled load of the crates onboard.

Luke leaned against a wall watching Wedge finish up with the dealer. It had been a long day and he was tired from moving heavy crates. He was looking forward to a sonic and bed once they were in hyperspace. It would be Wedge’s turn to fly followed by Hobbie. Luke would have about 12 hours before it was his turn.

A ball rolled up to Luke’s feet from where some kids were playing in an alley nearby. Luke was about to toss it back when he noticed several large stacks of pottery at the entrance. Think better of throwing the ball, he carried it over and handed it back with a smile to a little Twi’lek girl. A cruel laugh was the last thing he heard as a stun shot burned through him.

Everything hurt as consciousness returned. Luke lay still with his eyes closed waiting for feeling and control of his muscles to return. Slowly, the burning faded to tingling. The tingling faded after what seemed forever. Gradually, he became more aware of his situation. His wrists were cuffed behind his back. His ankles were also bound. He was lying face down on a metal surface like a ship's floor. He could only feel minor rhythmic vibrations too faint to be engines. It was probably a ship's generator. Good, they were likely still on Tatooine. Luke’s jacket was still on but the familiar weight of his lightsaber along with his weapons belt were missing.

Luke felt footsteps through the floor as several people approached before a door hissed open. Keeping his breathing slow, he did his best to pretend to be unconscious.

“No bounty?” The voice was hoarse like its owner smoked too much or their throat was damaged.

“No boss. We checked all the boards.” The second voice did not sound human but Luke was not sure the species it belonged to. Rodian maybe. Thankfully, as far as Intelligence knew, the Empire did not yet have the identity of Red-5.

“Did Scorpion say what they were buying or the client?”

“He didn't. Repeat customer that he didn’t want to offend. He was unhappy about us grabbing the brat.”

“Running guns probably but no proof. Kid is likely to be the lowest crew member based on age. He had that lightsaber though. We could try turning him in as a Jedi, but the Empire might kill us.”

“A couple of the men thought he looked like the Lars brat from Anchorhead. You know, the crazy pilot who won Boonta last year. The parents were killed by Sand People six months ago. The brat must have hopped the first freighter who would take him.”

A hand grabbed Luke’s chin roughly turning his head. It took all of Luke’s self-control to stay limp. “Hmm. He does look like the Lars brat. Try to find proof. A pretty little blond boy will fetch a good price. A pretty little blond boy who is also a very gifted pilot will get far more from the right buyer.”

“In the morning, the chips should be ready. I will tag him after picking them up. A little thing like that should be easy to control until then.”

The hand released Luke’s face causing his head to hit the deck with a thunk. The footsteps left the room. Luke’s heart sank at the mention of slave chips. He was freeborn. They were not sticking one in him.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he slowly moved and fished a lock pick from where it was concealed in the bottom hem of his jacket. It was a lot harder picking binders when trussed on the floor of a slave ship instead of on a bunk with Han giving pointers.

A few weeks earlier, Wedge had walked in on a lesson. He drew a blaster on Han while calling for backup. Han had explained repeatedly to security and later High Command that he was not trying to abduct Luke or do something terrible to him. Luke’s efforts to explain the situation were ignored. Instead, he found himself being questioned by a therapist and medic under the watchful eye of Shara Bay. It took Leia and Chewie’s returning successfully from their mission to find a missing Togruta before anyone would listen. Luke was still not clear on why Ahsoka Tano was able to convince High Command of Han’s innocence. After returning from this mission, Tano said they needed to talk. She had looked so sad when they had met.

After freeing his wrists, Luke quickly freed one of his ankles. Feeling vibrations of approaching footsteps, he lay back down with the loose ankle cuff concealed as well as possible. He held a bracelet in each hand with his sleeves pulled down hoping no one would notice. The pick was concealed in a sleeve.

“I know your awake.” The voice belonged to the hoarse leader from earlier. When Luke continued pretending unconsciousness, he was kicked sharply in the ribs. Luke curled around his injured side with a whine. Let the sleemo think he was weak.

With a disgusted snort, the slaver leaned down to drag Luke his feet. Instead, Luke kicked him in the face. Surprised, the man fell backwards striking his head on the bulkhead. Rolling to his feet, Luke dropped his lock pick into his jacket pocket. He quickly took his lightsaber from the slaver who had clipped it to his belt next to a blaster which Luke also relieved him of. Grabbing a code cylinder from the floor that had been dropped by the slaver, he was able to open the door.

The ship was laid out similarly to the Eopie. Quickly finding the exit without getting spotted, Luke pushed the button to lower the ramp. Electricity coursed through his body leaving him twitching on the floor as alarms sounded.

Jeering slavers quickly seized Luke before the spasms had finished. He was dragged helplessly into a hold. Each of his wrist were shackled. The chains were attached to hooks set high in the walls pulling his arms up and out to the side. Not yet able to stand unassisted, the chains prevented Luke from sinking to his knees. The shackles cut painfully into his wrists. His arms, back, and shoulders quickly ached from the unnatural position. Groaning with pain, Luke raised his head and glared defiantly at his kidnappers.

The slaver captain stormed into the room. He grabbed Luke by the hair forcing him to look up at him. “That was unwise boy. You belong to us now.”

Luke glared. “E chu ta, sleemo! I am freeborn. I belong to no one.” He spat in the depur's face. He knew it was a bad idea, but he would rather die than be sold as a slave.

The slaver slowly wiped his face. He grabbed Luke by the face again. “Very unwise boy. Time for your first lesson.” He punched Luke in the stomach.

“Have fun boys, but do not permanently damage him or hurt his face or hands. We don’t want to damage the merchandise.” The slaver captain stepped back after patting Luke on the cheek. The youth was too busy gasping to respond.

The slavers laughed as they took turns beating him. After what seemed like an eternity, Luke was unshackled from the wall. He was searched and the lock pick he had used before was confiscated. Dumped back on his cell floor, Luke could only groan when he was bound, gagged, and blindfolded.

There was still a second lock pick hidden in his right boot unfound by his captors. Deciding to wait a bit before trying to retrieve it, Luke tried to reach the Force, but was in too much pain to concentrate. After a while, the sound of distant blaster fire could be heard followed by screams. He could feel lives blinking out in the Force.

Soon, the door hissed open. Unable to see who enter, Luke was relieved to hear Hobbie’s voice, “Kriff, what did they do to you, Boss?”

Hobbie knelt down beside him and removed his blindfold and gag. Apologizing for not coming sooner, he helped Luke to sit up. Wedge remained just outside the open door with his blaster drawn. Luke’s weapons belt was looped over one of his shoulders.

Igniting the lightsaber that Wedge had recovered, Hobbie carefully sliced through the chains linking his wrists and ankles. Luke tried to stand but was only prevented from face planting by his friend grabbing his arm. Hobbie put his left arm around Luke’s shoulders and pulled him upright. Luke choked down a scream.

Slowly, the trio made their way out of the ship with Hobbie nearly carrying his commander. Pained gasps accompanied their every movement. Finding a hoversled in the main hold, Hobbie and Wedge carefully lifted their injured companion on it. Ignoring Luke’s protests that he could walk, Wedge folded up his jacket and put it under Luke's head.

Sighing in exasperation, Wedge looked sternly down at Luke, “Either, behave or I will tie you down. You can’t even sit unassisted.”

“But Wedge…” Luke whined in protest before being cut off.

“No, you're badly injured. I am not kidding. There is rope right there.” Wedge emphasized his words by pointing at a large coil of rope used by the pirates for securing cargo.

Luke tried glaring defiantly but knew his fellow pilot would not relent. Giving up, he rested his head back on the makeshift pillow.

Grabbing the sled's control, Hobbie steered Luke’s stretcher out of the pirate ship and into the maze-like seedy spaceport.

Luke was secretly relieved for the hoversled’s smooth ride. Everything hurt and he was so tired. Starting to doze, Wedge woke him. “Luke, I know you are tired, but you need to stay awake until we can get you to the med-droid. Not much longer now."

Shivering, Luke tried to stay awake. All around them was the noise of the spaceport and distant sounds of the market. Luke attempted to focus on the sounds, but his attention wavered. He was so cold, hurt, and tired.

Since when was Tatooine cold? The suns had long since risen.

This cold…he knew this cold. He had felt it before…A hallway…A deep voice speaking with every word dripping contempt and venom, “You hold that weapon like an untrained child. You have no right to it. You, boy, are no Jedi.”

“Oh no. He is here.” Luke spoke in barely a whisper as though to say it aloud would summon a demon.

“Luke, who is here?” Hobbie asked puzzled.

Luke swallowed. His throat was so dry, his words grated. “Vader. I can feel him.”

“Hey Wedge! Luke being weird again. He says Vader is here.” Hobbie called out to his friend a short distance away.

“Kark, we are probably five minutes from the ship still.” Wedge broke into a jog followed by Hobby guiding the makeshift stretcher.

Soon the sound of marching boots echoed between buildings. The local assortment of villainy melted away before the sound. Wedge waved Hobbie over to a stack of crates. The pair push the hoversled further down the alley where it would be concealed in the shadow of a doorway. Luke tried to get up to help only for Hobbie to firmly push him back.

If found, they would be trapped. Wedge and Hobbie took up positions with as good of cover as they could manage. Time passed. No stormtroopers approached their hiding place.

The marching boots drew near again. Luke shivered. Despite the heat of the day of the felt he was wrapped in a blanket of cold. Breathing a sigh of relief as the soldiers moved away, Luke allowed his head to fall back. Wedge glanced back and warned him to stay awake again.

Moments crept by. After a while, Luke notices a slight rocking sensation. Having closed his eyes against the harsh glare of the suns reflecting from the walls, he opened them. It was not his imagination. The hoversled was moving vertically along the wall. Luke tried to roll off, but the icy blanket held him firm. He was not even able make a noise.

Struggling against his invisible bonds, Luke fought to control his growing panic. The hoversled came to a stop on the roof. He could feel Vader’s icy presence nearby but was unable to even turn his head to look for his latest abductor. A shadow covered him. Desperately, he tried to tear himself free. Pain shot through him from his injuries, but he stubbornly refused to give up.

A large leather clad hand covered his face as it turned his head, with an unexpected gentleness, so he was looking up at the towering Sith. Vader’s bulk blocked the light of the twin suns and covered Luke in shadows. From Luke’s prone position, Vader looked even more intimidating . A deep modulated voice broke the relative silence, “Stop fighting child. You are making your injuries worse. Who did this to you?”

Luke glared defiantly before renewing his futile struggles while cursing profusely in Huttese.

Vader's vocoder made a noise that night have been a sigh. Resting his hand once more on the boy's head, the command of “SLEEP" cut through Luke’s frantic defiance like a lightsaber. The young Rebel was barely aware of being scooped up like a child. The distant sound of Wedge shouting Luke’s name fell on deaf ears.

Vader stood over the small injured body of his son. He briefly considered taking his anger out on the two Rebels. Getting Luke back to the shuttle with its waiting medic was more important. Carefully, he lifted his child into his arms and headed to the waiting shuttle.

An hour later, Kix had done what he could for the boy’s injuries. A session in a bacta tank was required. Vader had to resist the Darkside’s desire to lash out in fury. The list of injuries was long although not life threatening.

Captain Piett was investigating with some of General Veers men as backup. The ship Luke had been rescued from by the Rebels was already seized by the General. Veers had reported the fresh blood in the hold and a cell along with shackles attached to the walls.

When the Emperor was dead, Jabba and his minions would follow. Slavery would not continue in his Empire.

Placing his hand on Luke’s forehead, Vader slipped into a meditation. The boy’s shields were easy to brush aside. Slowly, he began placing compulsions in his mind. The boy was not skilled enough to remove them in the unlikely event he became aware of their presence. Even if Luke tried, Vader would be ready to stop him.

Finishing, he smiled down at his child’s peaceful face. How could such a perfect creature come from him?

Slowly, voices pierced the fog of sleep, first blending confusingly with dreams before nudging him away from dreams to reality. Disoriented after his deep sleep and still overcome by a heavy lassitude, the voices were an unwelcome intrusion pushing his unwilling mind to wakefulness.

Luke’s eyes blinked open. Bright lights assaulted his eyes. Closing his eyes with a soft moan, the young Rebel Commander forced himself to re-open his eyes and survey his surroundings. He was lying still fully clothed minus his jacket on a biobed. It did not resemble any room he had seen in an Alliance medbay.

There was something odd about the medbay. While the large room had the antiseptic smell and many of the machines expected in a well-stocked medical facility, there was other equipment that seemed out of place. A lab maybe? A ghostly feeling of pain and terror filled the room. He didn't have a clue where he was but he was fairly certain that he did not want to be there. Bad things happened here.

Cobwebs of sleep still clung tenaciously to Luke’s mind. Curiously, he did not seem to be restrained. He knew that he should get up, but the overwhelming urge to relax overcame all desire to move. Forget sitting, moving a finger was too much to be bothered about. He knew he should be scared, but something seemed to be sapping away worry before it took hold. It was better to just snuggle into the warm cocoon that was enveloping his very essence. Gentle caresses to his very being wiped away all vestiges of fear leaving contentment in its wake.

Listlessly, Luke’s attention was drawn to approaching voices. They were discussing some sort of procedure, but Luke’s groggy mind was not able to fully comprehend their meaning. Something about bacta and the subject's injuries needing healed first.

A gloved hand was rested on his forehead. A wave of reassurance and safety washed over him strengthening the already powerful hold on his mind. The world around him became distant as though watching a planet recede from his cockpit. Soothingly, mental fingers slowly stroked affectionately over his presence. Instinctively, he curled into the touch. Pleased, the presence sent a pulse of affection and safety through their developing bond. The hand on his head was removed, but the presence remained wrapped protectively around him.

Unknown hands began undressing him like a large doll. Luke felt his boots and pants tugged away. The cool metal of scissors ran up his chest and across his shoulders as his white sleeveless shirt was quickly snipped away. Clad only in his boxers, the air was cool on his exposed skin. A couple IVs were inserted into his arms. A harness was fastened around him. Lifted onto a stretcher, Luke watched dreamily as ceiling tiles drifted overhead.

A mask was fitted over his nose and mouth before he was lowered into a clear tank. Luke’s limp form was left suspended. One of the voices issued a command about anesthesia. Luke knew the words were important but just could not muster the energy to care. Before losing consciousness, he was aware of the tank filling and a dark blur watching protectively outside the tank.

When he had been briefed on the project led by Nuvo Vindi on Naboo, he had been furious and skeptical. Sith do not forgive and Vindi had nearly killed his wife, men, and padawan. The goal of his work seemed improbable and impractical. Watching his son sleep, he knew he had a very good use for that project.

He stood watch over his precious son as he drifted in the tank. The bruises that covered his body faded as the bacta did its work. Soon the broken bones would be knitted back together.

Veers and Piett had only found three survivors from the slaver crew including their leader. Piett had recognized the leader from his days in the Axxilan Anti-piracy Force. The human, Orson, had been kidnapping and enslaving sentients across the Outer Rim for decades. Piett shared Vader’s hatred of slavers. The slavers were on their way to the Executor. Vader would need to come up with something special for the offense of hurting his son and trying to enslave him.

The two Rebel pilots had killed the other five slavers when rescuing Luke. They had eluded capture.

The timer for the tank buzzed. Kix oversaw Luke’s removal from the tank. His follow up exam was satisfactory. The boy’s injuries were healed. The child was under weight. While not ideal, the scientists insisted it would not interfere with the procedure.

Luke had started to wake up but the compulsions remained effective. His eyes were open but remained mostly unaware of what was happening.

When ready, the child was lifted into a cylindrical machine. After the machine began working, Luke's presence lit up with intense pain. A scream of agony could be heard over the loud noise machine. His father quickly reached through the Force. Taking the pain for himself, Vader fed it to the darkness for later. Gently, he pushed Luke into unconsciousness.

Watching through the thick transparisteel portal, Vader watched his son change. Every time the machine completed a cycle, the scientists examined their patient. Their callous discussion of his son as a test subject infuriated Vader. After nearly a day of what should have been torture, his son still slept peacefully. When satisfied with his son’s condition, Vader lifted the infant wrapped in a cheap coarse baby blanket from the examine table. He removed the compulsions now that they were no longer needed.

Thirty minutes later, Vader boarded his shuttle with Luke in his arms. Kix followed behind. After changing his son into a blue sleeper with cartoon stars he wrapped him in a soft blanket.

Veers would arrive soon. He would see to it the lab and the dead scientists would be thoroughly destroyed.

When lifted from the tank onto a hard surface, Luke drifted towards semi-awakeness. Dimly, he became aware of being surrounded by people doing things to him.

After a time, Luke became heard of a loud hum. Pain begins lancing through his entire body as though every cell was on fire simultaneously. The pain demands attention, but the power wrapping his mind protectively tightens it hold. Even as the pain intensifies, it fades from Luke’s awareness soon followed by consciousness.

Vader stood in his office waiting for General Veers to bring the informant. He kept glancing at the tiny bundle resting in the crook of his left arm. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips.

The door opened admitting the two men. The terrifying specter of death strode forward.

Turning his attention from hyperspace to the informant, Vader addressed the man. “Your information has proven correct. The pilot has been appropriately dealt with.”

The informant shifted uncomfortably. Guilt flashed through the Force. Vader was well aware the defector had cooperated not out of regret for past actions but out of fear and jealousy. Vader stared down at him watching the pathetic wretch squirm.

“In light of your recent service in aiding in the capture of the pilot, you will be appropriately rewarded. The standard punishment for engaging in treason is interrogation followed by public execution. You will be shown mercy.”

“Thank you, Lord Vader!” The defector stammered. Vader sensed relief from the man.

Vader handed the small bundle to a bewildered General.

Turning his attention to the treacherous rebel who had betrayed his son, Vader extended his hand. Lifting the man by the throat with the Force, Vader stared into his eyes as he snapped his neck. “Mercy granted.”

Taking his son back, Vader dismissed the General. Entering his large quarters attached to his office, Vader opened the door to the bedroom. Instead of the traditional Imperial colors and bedroom furniture, the room was decorated in bright colors with a crib, changing table, a large rocking chair, and many toys.

With more care than any Imperial or Rebel would believe possible, the Sith Lord gently placed his tiny sleeping son in his crib after checking his diaper. Adoringly, he tucked Luke in with a warm blanket along with stuffed starfighter.

After watching his precious son for a time, he sighed. Other duties demanded his attention. Waking the nanny droid, he exited the room to attend a meeting with Death Squadron’s senior officers. He still had a fleet to run and Sith Master to murder.

Chapter Text

Sneaking through ventilation systems seemed like an odd activity for a pilot. Yet, when Princess Leia volunteered Luke for the mission, he hadn’t hesitated. He knew that his size and agility would give him advantage.

The Devastator was being retrofit at the Kuat Drive Yard. Provided with the uniform and papers for a low level civilian technical apprentice, no one gave him a second look. Looking nervous only made him more convincing and elicited sympathy.

A stormtrooper had even paternally patted his shoulder after letting him through. Luke actually felt slightly bad about that. He hoped the man would not get in trouble for it. He knew he was not supposed to feel bad for Imperials and think of them as people with families and loved ones, they were the enemy. He did though and wasn’t in a hurry to change that. He had a feeling that if he ever lost sight of that, he would lose himself. Hatred and indifference to suffering were dangerous for Force users. He didn't want to end up like Vader.

Moving with assurance like he was supposed to there, Luke walked unchallenged through the hallways. Reaching a certain hatch, Luke quickly opened it, slipped inside, and fastened it behind him.

In the privacy of the maintenance crawlspace, he quickly slipped the uniform off revealing the black close-fitting garment with padded elbows and knees that was concealed beneath it. He switched his work boots for climbing shoes. He drank a little bit of water before concealing the bag behind a panel. He fastened a utility belt with tools around his waist and slipped on some gloves before sliding into a ventilation shaft. He marked the location of his stash on the map showing on a small datapad strapped to his arm. Apart from the data pad, he only had few basic tools and a small blaster. His lightsaber was sitting on his bunk on the Falcon. Not having felt it like he was missing a part of himself.

Moving noiselessly, Luke made decent time. He had two objectives: see what he could find out about the launch of the Executor and what Vader was up to in the rooms next to his. A month prior, Vader had requisitioned the suit of rooms next to his that were normally assigned to visiting dignitaries. Leia had even stayed there once with her mother. Oddly, Vader had done something similar on the Executor only there he had taken a much larger area. It was rumored he had ordered extensive retrofitting to the extra space. During the briefing, Han had jokingly suggested that Vader had a secret wife or love child. Judging from his sudden gasp, Leia had kicked him under the table. Luke had snickered.

Luke’s first stop was the conference room where senior ship’s officers held a daily briefing on the Devastator's refit followed by a meeting for senior Death Squadron officers on the Executor. It almost seemed a little too convenient.

Luke reached the conference room without difficulty. He was hardly arrived when aides started coming in to prepare the room little suspecting there was an uninvited attendee. Silently, he made himself as comfortable as possible.

He activated the recording function on the datapad. While working, the aides chatted. Luke had spent enough time accompanying Leia on diplomatic missions to appreciate how much servants knew. Luke knew he was often viewed by dignitaries as arm candy or a bodyguard.

Most of the chatter was the uninteresting variety such as the possibility of dating the new communication officer or Admiral Ozzel’s insistence on his tea being steeped for exactly 147seconds.

More interesting was speculation about why Vader had commandeered the second set of quarters. Luke smirked when one suggested that Vader had a secret mistress. Han would be pleased.

Less funny was when another aide had pointed out that you don’t weld down vents, replace the door with a thicker one, and upgrade locks so they require authorization on both sides to prepare a room for a lover.

When another aide scoffed saying that was only a rumor, an aide bearing an insignia marking him as part of the security engineering team assured him that he had helped with the work. Anything that might be used as a weapon or tool had been removed or welded down. Every piece of furniture was welded to a wall or floor. All electronics were carefully sealed. He had personally spent two hours the other day making sure a holoprojector could not be taken apart or rewired. Alarms were everywhere. It was now less a luxurious guest quarters and more posh high security cell.

One aide in intelligence hesitantly pointed out there was that pretty Rebel boy that Vader was obsessed with capturing unharmed. The resulting uncomfortable silence was only broken when officers began arriving.

The Rebel boy in question was very glad for the diversion. He had been questioned by High Command about his odd bounty. No one had an explanation. Surely, Vader had not retrofitted a high-end guest quarters for somewhere to keep him? Surely, that was silly. Vader had been going to kill him on Cymoon-1. He could not shake a feeling of unease though.

Luke shifted nervously. He didn’t know why he felt like something was about to happen. Stretching slowly to avoid noise, he accidentally kicked the bundle of wires running neatly across the top of the duct the length of the room. One of the fasteners came loose. He froze at the noise. One of the officers paused listening before collecting a cup of caff and taking a seat. Luke let out the breath he had been holding. That was too close.

When the meeting started, Luke listened with interest. He loved ships and engineering. Most of the discussion was related to some delays encountered during repairs to turbolift 31b wherever that was and some improvements to the stormtroopers training areas and barracks that Lord Vader had insisted on. There were updates to the ventral and hangar bay shields that High Command would be interested in.

After nearly an hour, the meeting was adjourned. The officers had several minutes before the meeting on the Executor. Using the noise of officers coming and going while others refilled their mugs with tea or caff for cover, Luke carefully stretched. He might be young but air ducts were not exactly pleasant to linger in. At least, mouse droids had kept the ducts clean.

The next meeting began exactly on time. Luke listened intently as an officer by the name of Piett gave a detailed briefing of the Executor’s status. High Command would definitely be interested. The officer was going to be the ship's first captain. In two months, he expected to be able move onto the ship with a skeleton crew. Work was now 17 days ahead of schedule and it was expected to possibly launch a month early if work continued as planned. Luke wondered if he and some friends could cause some delays.

Halfway through the meeting, Luke stretched his left leg that was starting to cramp. In doing so, he brushed the bundle of wiring again.

Curiously, Vader was apparently heavily involved in the design of the Executor. Luke had always heard him spoke of as a monster or legendary pilot. It was strange hearing the chief engineer discuss the Sith Lord as a brilliant engineer.

The meeting had finished. Once the last officers and aides left, he would begin slithering his way to check out Vader’s luxury cell. He would have to be careful. It would not do to get stuck in it. So far, everything was going well.

Piett and a senior army officer were the last to leave. They had been caught up in their own discussion of some detail related to the storage of the AT-ATs. Even the aides finished cleaning up before they left.

Finally, the coast was clear. Luke began creeping forward only to feel something tighten around his ankle. Choking down a scream, Luke struggled to not panic. He was lying inside a small metal duct and something had grabbed his leg. Frantically, he pulled as hard as he could and kicked at his unseen assailant. Only his right leg encountered nothing. Sharp pain stabbed deep into his leg as teeth dug in.

Panic was truly beginning to set in when the cables running over head tore free. A sharp fastener scratched at his cheek. The sudden pain cleared his mind. Using a meditation technique that Ben had shown him, he calmed down. He forced himself to lay still for a few minutes. Weirdly, he could have sworn he felt an icy touch as though from a great distance. It was like when Aunt Beru had stroked his hair but inside and not physically.

Luke, no longer panicking, listened for sounds of someone coming to check on the commotion. After long minutes, Luke decided he had been lucky and no one had heard.

Slowly, he moved trying to access the situation. The cable over him had come free. It was looped tightly twice around his left ankle. In his flailing, he must have wrapped it around his leg. Worse, sharp bits of metal anchoring it to the ceiling were now digging into his flesh.

There was little slack left. The cables had entered the duct a few feet behind him and exited a few feet ahead. He considered cutting them but the Force practically screamed a warning. Okay, all he needed to do was get untangled then without breaking or cutting the wires. How hard could it be?

He would then go back to his supplies to get his medkit, before finding something to clean up the blood he was almost certainly going to smear around. He deliberately blocked the thought of the long climb to his supplies and then having to come back. That was a future problem.

Kark. Luke mentally recited all of the foul language that he knew as he slowly tried to push the wires off with his right foot. Huttese had no shortage of profanity and his Rebel friends had been happy to teach him other curses. While mentally reciting an imaginative curse involving a Hutt, a Sarlacc, and a slave master, Luke was almost certain he felt that mental touch again. It felt concerned and amused. Luke wondered if he was losing it. That would not help him get free.

Luke was getting thirsty. It had been close to 5 hours since he had anything to drink. Aides were setting out beverages again. Not fair. Those bottles of chilled water looked amazing.

Several hours later, Like had learned more than he ever wanted to about the acquisition of blankets and pillows. Maybe that information would help the Alliance. He would not mind a couple more blankets. Hoth was an awful place. As a Child of the Desert, Luke hated the cold. Curled up miserably in his bunk at night, Luke almost missed Tatooine

The conference room cleared out again.

Luke was trying to deny that he was scared. He could not twist around in the tight spot to use his hands. The Force continued warned against cutting the wires. All he could do was to try to methodically unwrap his ankle using his free foot and twisting his tangled one. He could do this. He had to. He tried to ignore the damage to his foot and leg the metal fasteners were doing.

Determinedly, he continued working.

A meeting just started. It was junior officers going over options for mess hall meals. It was fortunately short. Listening to a discussion of meals was depressing. Luke was also a bit jealous. It sounded like the 501st stormtroopers ate a lot better than Alliance pilots.

Luke was frightened and exhausted. He tried not to think of the last time he had eaten. He had spent the last few hours trying to free himself with the Force. That was taking a toll on his strength. Resting his forehead on the cool metal, the young Rebel decided to take a short break. Maybe someone would be coming to look for him soon.

The aides woke Luke with their chatter as they prepared the conference room.

Luke was exhausted, cold, hungry, thirsty, and frightened. Not only had he been in the ventilation system for over a day, he had spent hours trying to use the Force. If he was caught, he would be tortured before being executed. It was so tempting to call out, but that would be escaping a sandstorm by jumping into the Sarlacc.

As officers arrived, he recognized some voices. He heard Piett and the army officer from the prior day talking casually about sparring later.

Listening to the small talk, Luke was shocked when the grill near his face was suddenly jerked out of the wall. A bright light blinded him.

General Veers was having a good day. He had just received the specs for the newest upgrades to his AT-ATs. He was looking forward to seeing the improvements in the field.

Piett had been about to head into the conference room when he came around the corner. His friend waited for him to catch up. Entering together, they joined the queue to get some caff before the meeting started. While waiting, they planned to meetup that evening to spar. Most bridge officers did not bother with combat training. Piett was a notable exception. The small scrappy navy officer was proud of his history hunting pirates and strove to stay fit.

Veers was idly looking around the room when a small dark stain high on the wall caught his eye. Frowning, he caught Piett's attention and directed his attention to it while telling a story of some recent mischief some new recruits had been in. Piett nodded slightly indicating his understanding. Veers picked up a cup of tea that was handy and walked to the other side of the room. Piett did the same only he slid a chair under the other wall vent. No one paid them any mind. Veers made a note to bring that up in the future.

Setting his blaster to stun and thumbing on a light attached to the barrel, he quick to pulled the handle on the vent while pointing the blaster into the duct. Piett could be heard doing the same further down the room. A look to the left revealed only darkness. Turning right, he found himself face to face with a surprised teenager boy. He fired without hesitation. After holstering his weapon, he grabbed the stunned boy by the shoulders to drag him out but was unable to move him much.

Piett called to him that he only saw the one intruder. He added there was a lot of blood but could not see the source. It was hard to see but there appeared to be a wire wrapped around one of the intruder's leg's.

Summoning a security and a maintenance team, efforts began to remove the prisoner the duct. In the end, Colonel Fel summoned a TIE technician who was small enough to wiggle partly in. With the power to the lines shutoff, it only took a few minutes for the technician to disentangle the prisoner. Security easily pulled the teenager out of the trap. Mouse droids immediately began repairs to the duct and cleaning the blood.

Veers stared down at boy. Sitting on a chair, the boy look sick and exhausted. He could not help wonder how long he had been trapped. There had been a lot of dried blood. It was clear the Rebel had been there since at least the prior day. A medic cleaned and bound his leg. He also received an antibiotic injection and ordered to swallow two tablets for the fever. The boy looked like might protest but wilted under the stern medic glare.

The mini-Rebel had been given a bottle of water by Captain Needa before he began questioning him acting as though he believed the boy was with Kuat. Veers was always impressed with Lorth’s ability to act.

The boy said his name was Ben Owens. He was a second-year engineering student who had been tasked with updating mapping of the ship since his small size allowed him to go places too small for most humans. He had become trapped late yesterday afternoon but no one had heard him call for help. Eventually, he had fallen asleep. He had woken up when the vent in front of him had been jerked open. The boy had the audacity to thank them for saving him.

Veers would have been willing to bet that the boy saw right through Needa. He was also comfortably sure the boy was lying about what happened including his name. Well, maybe not the part of being trapped since the prior day. The boy was an abysmal liar.

“Owens" was told they would have to verify his story with Kuat, two stormtroopers pulled the boy to his feet after putting binders on him. They left to escort him to detention. Thirty minutes later, the two troopers were found unconscious in a closet. A search was underway when Kuat reported an unauthorized starfighter launch. The stolen ship was a TIE Advanced was being prepared as a backup ship for Lord Vader.

The two squadrons of TIEs that had been training were sent to stop the stolen fighter. It easily eluded them all without ever firing a shot before jumping to hyperspace. The TIE pilots’ mood were grim when they learned the weapons systems had not been installed.

When Lord Vader returned two days later, he was furious. The two stormtroopers were both strangled after being questioned. Less predictably, he ordered all DNA samples and security footage destroyed after obtaining a copy. While reviewing the TIE escape, Veers had the strange notion that Lord Vader was proud.

Over a shared bottle of Correllian whiskey, Piett surprised Veers by saying he believed the boy was the Rebel pilot that Lord Vader was seeking with the insane fury and determination of a krayt dragon whose hatchlings were stolen.

Arriving on Hoth with his prize, Luke was given a hero’s welcome by his fellow pilots. Chewie had scooped him up in a hug before seeing he was injured. The wookie carried him to medbay despite his protests. Exhausted, Luke was asleep before they made it out of the hangar. When he woke, Leia was sitting with him using the edge of his biobed as a desk.

Twobee came in and changed the bandages on his leg. The wounds on his leg had been badly infected. The medic who had patched him up on the Devastator may have saved his leg. He had also been suffering from dehydration, exhaustion, and Force-exhaustion when brought in. Luke had slept for two days while running a fever off and on. It would be at least several more days before he could be released.

Drifting back off to sleep, Luke had the strange feeling that his father was watching him with pride from a great distance.

Chapter Text

Fuming, Han Solo followed Chewbacca through the dense underbrush. He was a smuggler, not a karking outdoors man and certainly not a kriffing babysitter. Its not like he made any of the Rogues drink too much moonshine. Okay, sure, he had picked it up for their little party on his last supply run. He did not make anyone drink it. He may have taught a few of them some drinking games. It was not his fault there was trouble. Those pilots find plenty of trouble when sober.

So what if the Kid is under-aged. He still knew what he was doing. Anyway, Han only gave Luke that one shot. Like her High and Mighty has never tried alcohol. She is no older than Luke. Where did she get off ordering him and Chewie to walk five miles through the woods in the middle of the night to sleep in a cave? Grumbling, Han adjusted the bundle of bedrolls on his back.

Chewie found the entire situation funny. His amusement did nothing for Hans mood especially since some of that amusement was at Han. The furrball was even enjoying the walk. Luke seemed to be enjoying the experience too. After the third time he almost walked into a tree or off of a cliff, Chewie had scooped him up. Now, the cause of their midnight excursion was being carried. How could someone capable of flying full speed through Beggar’s Canyon be so clumsy? Okay, so bring extremely drunk isn't good for anyone’s coordination, but the Kid had proven himself baffling accident prone when sober. At least, Luke was a happy drunk. Watching him and his friends drink had been fun.

Reaching the cave, Han spread the bedrolls out while Chewie prepared to start a fire. Luke meanwhile was grinning drunkenly while watching the water falling from a crack in the ceiling into a pool. Some of that water was now drifting lazily through the air around the cave. Which was certainly not because the Kid was an extremely drunk wizard.

Noticing the floating water, Chewie declared the fire a bad idea. Floating drops of water was one thing. Floating coals another. Despite Han's firm refusal to acknowledge the Force, he had to admit that was in no hurry to have bits of burning wood floating through the air.

Chewie coaxed the drunk teenager into lying down on a bedroll. Luke was hardly barely down before snoring could be heard. Really, not only did they have to go on an impromptu camping trip but he was going to have to listen to snoring.

Han quietly cursed. Chewie calmly pointed out that this was all his fault. Han was the one who had given Luke a shot and encouraged the Rogues to play a drinking game. He had teased Luke into participating even though he did not like moonshine. Han indignantly protested. He didn't make anyone drink.

Chewie growled his disapproval. Han had known that Luke was not experienced with strong alcohol. He had known that their cub was desperate to prove himself an adult to the other pilots. Han had manipulated the situation for his own enjoyment. Yes, their cub should have known better, but he was still a child while Han was an adult.

Han stomped over to the other human sized bedroll. Soon he was asleep. Despite sleeping in a cave, he managed to get about six hours of sleep before being rudely awaken by a retching sound. Groaning, he sat up not appreciating the bright early morning sunlight. His head was killing him.

Luke was leaning over a bush right outside the cave miserably vomiting. Just great, now, the cave was going to smell. Luke walked a short ways away before sitting down on a stone with his head in his hands. Han felt bad. He didn't like to see the Kid in sick.

Chewie had removed a bottle of water and some pills from his pack. Walking over to the young pilot, he handed him the water before shaking pills into his hand. After making sure Luke took the pills, Chewie repeated the process with Han. Soon, the medication kicked in.

Crossly tossing a ration bar at Han, Chewie took one out to Luke. Even though the boy did not know any Shyriiwook, the Wookiee had no trouble making it clear that he needed to eat before they headed back to base. Slowly, Luke nibbled on the ration bar. Han could tell when he was feeling better because of his increased interest in their surroundings.

Two hours later, the trio entered the hangar. The Princess was angrily watching as the Rogues cleaned up the mess from the prior night. A short distance away, Generals Rieekan and Dodona surveyed the mess. Not only was there the normal mess resulting from a party getting out of hand, it looked like a wind storm had torn through. Luke paused at the entrance before walking over to the irate Princess. Looking concerned, he completely innocently asked what had happened.

Rieekan nearly choked on his caff. Dodona looked horrified at his brazenness. Not only did Luke dared to ask what had happened like he was not involved, he spoke familiarly without using a title. Han smirked.

Princess Leia spun around and glared at Luke who took a step back while looking confused. Her fury cooled seeing his innocent confusion. Sighing, she ordered him to go get cleaned up and then report back to help with the mess the Rogue's party made.

As Luke walked away, her Worship’s eye landed on Han. He would later swear he felt the air cool a few degrees. Han had the indignity of being ordered to scrub the hangar floor with a bucket and scrub brush. Grumbling, he complied.

Chapter Text

Leia had come up with an idea of having the Falcon's crew share some of the food from their homeworlds. Han had prepared some fried nerf burgers and potatoes. Leia had made seasoned fish and a salad. Chewie had arranged a fruit platter and grilled meat as something suitable to share with humans. It was finally Luke’s turn. He decided to prepare Grandmother Shmi's soup, flat bread, tea, and sticky cake.

The Falcon was scheduled to make a supply run to a space station in a system bordering the Mandalorian Empire. Han and Chewbacca were volunteered by Leia to teach Luke and a couple other Rogues about freighter operations so the trip was doubling as a training exercise. Han had yielded viewing the younger pilots as free labor.

Luke was looking forward to the trip. He was planning in going to the market to find the ingredients he needed. He had always loved going to the market with his Aunt Beru. Even Anchorhead’s open air market was full of activity with wonderful smells of foods and spices. His favorite places to visit had been the pastry shop and Peli’s mechanic shop. A market at a space port must be way better then Anchorhead’s.

Some of his pilot friends had told him about a large second-hand clothing shop at the station. Luke was planning on looking for some clothes he needed. Buying clothes even second hand was exciting. Before leaving home, he only ever had well-worn clothes that the older kids in the area had grown out of and were eventually bartered to his Aunt or Uncle. He had never been in a store selling clothing.

The only clothes he had, apart from oversized flight suits, were what he had been wearing when he left Tatooine and a few changes from donations kept for refugees. Luke had resisted accepting the charity at first. Rolling his eyes, Han had pointed out Luke was both a refugee and war orphan. Annoyed, Leia had crossed her arms threatened to send Threepio to pick clothes for him from the donations. Leaning against a pile of crates nearby, Wedge Antilles had the misfortune of catching Leia’s attention with his snickering at Luke’s discomfort . Glaring, she had ordered Wedge to help Luke find what he needed and sent Threepio along to help for good measure.

An hour before leaving, Han was just finishing up a repair when his foot slipped on a rung. Falling to the hangar floor, he landed badly breaking and gashing his left arm on a tool. Much to his ire, he had been forced to remain in medbay while Chewie made the supply run. Threepio was sent with Chewie as a translator for his students.

After arriving at the station, Chewie left to meet up with the supplier. Soon, crates were being loaded. It was hard work but Luke was used to that. After loading, Chewie gave his students leave to explore for two hours while he took care of some other commissions. He firmly reminded the young pilots that they would be in a lot of trouble if they were drunk when they returned. The other pilots quickly left to find a cantina.

Instead of accompanying Wes, Hobbie, and Tycho, Luke went with Chewie to the market. Luke was delighted. The large area was full of stalls selling a variety of goods and services. In the center, a troupe of actors entertained a crowd of children. Customers of many races could be seen browsing or eating at a stall. Mandalorians in painted armor strolled among the stalls. Here and there, a stormtrooper or Imperial officer could be seen. Tensions could be seen between the two groups.

Luke wandered away from his friend to go do his own shopping. As he left, he could hear Threepio fussing to Chewie.

Disappointingly, he had not been able to find the type of peppers that Aunt Beru grew in her garden. Asking the vendor at the produce stall for Tatooine sun peppers had earned him a look like he had asked something strange. She had helpfully had suggested the supernova peppers instead.

Carefully, he packed his purchases in a shopping bag that he had found in the Falcon’s galley. Slinging the strap over his left shoulder, Luke began scanning the crowd for Chewie. Surrounded by a group of annoyingly tall Mandalorians, he was unable to spot his Wookiee friend. His father was supposed to have been quite tall. Not for the first time, he wished he had inherited some of that height.

Not seeing Chewie, he decided to look for a higher place to stand. Hungry, he pulled out one of the peppers. He had not had fresh peppers in months since leaving home. A stormtrooper spotted him taking a bite. He had immediately urged Luke to spit it out in a nearby trash bin and go to the infirmary. An officer had been attracted by the commotion. Luke had assured them he was fine. A small crowd of Mandalorians had gathered. The exasperated officer confiscated the remains of the pepper. Looking around nervously at the crowd, he ordered Luke to go home.

Luke quickly took the opportunity to slip away. Chewie and Threepio were watching the incident with concern from two stalls up. Chewie immediately called him over. Luke was puzzled by the incident, he did not know what the big deal was. The supernova peppers were not quite as spicy and a bit sweeter than his Aunt’s peppers. They should still be good even if the soup would be milder than normal. The officer watched Luke and Chewie leave the market as though he expected Luke to do something else crazy.

Returning to the Falcon, Luke put his groceries away. Chewie came in with additional provisions which he asked Luke to take care of. Before long, the other pilots rejoined them trying to conceal some bottles of a bright blue liquid.

The following morning, Luke set to work in the small gallery. Soon the ship was full of the smells of home as the soup simmered. After Han and Leia returned from meetings, they were greeted with smells of food. Luke proudly arranged bowls of soup and plates with flat bread and blue butter on the crate they were currently using as a table. The sticky cake, he left in the galley.

Soon their makeshift family was gathered round the table. Luke passed around mugs of tzai tea. He had shared tea with his friends before. Leia smiled as she sipped hers. Han was eyeing up the soup uncertainly.

Leia cleared her throat before picking up her spoon, “It all smells good, Luke.”

“It smells rather spicy.” Han added still looking at the soup dubiously. Chewie snickered.

“I was not able to find the hot peppers Aunt Beru used. Sorry. It is milder than it supposed to be.” Luke apologized. He felt bad about that.

Leia took a bite before taking a second. Han reassured, quickly took a big bite. He had not noticed her eyes widening and tearing. He dropped his spoon on the floor in his haste to race to the kitchen. Jerking open the refrigerator, he grabbed one of Luke’s cartons of blue milk, and upended it into his mouth. Leia meanwhile had fled to the refresher where very improper retching sounds could be heard.

Chewie’s laughs filled the ship until he saw Luke’s face. He pulled the young Jedi into a hug.

“I am sorry. I had tasted it and it seemed fine.” Luke whispered from the shelter of Chewie’s arms. He slipped back into his seat when Han returned with the remaining milk.

Han looked like he was torn between being mad and feeling bad for upsetting Luke. Luke reached over and grabbed his bowl. Han moved to stop him, but he managed to take several bites before it was confiscated. He shrugged confusedly, “See, it is fine.”

Chewie laughed at his partner’s expression. "Some of Tatooine’s foods are even hotter than Mandalorian food."

“Wait, you mean it is supposed to be like that, Furrball? You let us eat that?” Han sounded betrayed.

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was that much hotter than Correllian food.” Luke apologized. Chewie ruffled his hair.

"The cub also horrified a couple stormtroopers by biting into a supernova pepper. They wanted to make him go to the infirmary. The presence of Mandalorians scared them off."

“You took a bite out of a supernova pepper?” Leia sounding aghast. She was looking a little pale still.

“Yes, it was milder and sweeter than the Tatooine sun peppers Aunt Beru grew. An Imperial officer threw away the rest of it before I could finish it.”

Han looked at Chewie who chuckled.

“The cake ain’t hot. It is sweet.” Luke offered.

“Is not. Do not use ain’t.” Leia corrected almost automatically. Seeing the kicked tooka look on his face, “We will try it later. It smells good.”

“Princess Leia, Sabine Wren is here, shall I let her in?” Threepio asked.

“Sure, Goldenrod.” Han answered for Leia. Luke picked up his bowl and resumed eating.

“Is that Tiingilar? It smells amazing.” Sabine asked coming in.

“It is a soup Luke’s family makes. It is really hot. You do not want to try that." Leia warned.

Han offered having recovered enough to inflict the soup on Sabine. He nudged a bowl in Sabine's direction. “There is plenty left since only Luke can eat it. He is an eldritch horror though.”

Luke worriedly intervened, “You don’t have to try it. It was way too hot for Leia and Han.”

“I am a Mandalorian. We can handle hot unlike Core Worlders.” She shot back with a cocky grin.

She took a bite and smiled, “That is really good. Where did you learn to make tiingilar?”

Luke cocked his head puzzled, “Grandma Shmi taught my Aunt Beru who taught me. What is tiingilar?”

“It is a Mandalorian dish. Some clans make it more like a casserole. Outsiders tend to think it is too spicy. I have never encountered it away from our settlements.” Sabine finished off Han’s bowl. Luke had meanwhile finished his and Leia’s. Leia nibbled some flat bread trying to settle her stomach.

“Oh, Hera sent me with a message for you Princess.” She handed Leia a datapad before diving into the refilled bowl that Han slid in front of her.

“Thanks. Before you leave, we should have Luke’s sticky cake. It looks good.”

Luke smiled before retrieving the cake, plates, and forks.

“What did you call this?” Sabine asked after sampling a bite.

Luke answered proudly. “Sticky cake.”

“Umm. That is good.” Leia observed after trying a bite. Han cautiously waited until half of Leia’s was gone before cautiously taking a bite.

“This is Uj’alayi cake.” Sabine commented thoughtfully.

“Another Mandalorian recipe? Luke was your grandmother’s family Mandalorian?” Leia asked.

Luke shrugged. “My Aunt and Uncle didn’t know anything about her family besides having my father. She was born a slave on Tatooine. All we have from her past was a few recipes. She could have been taught them by someone she met though.”

“Luke, your grandmother could not have been a slave. It was highly illegal under the Republic. It has only become an issue since the rise of the Empire.” Leia corrected.

The table went quiet. Luke stared at her for a moment with his eyes large, before quietly explaining, “Leia, slavery has been a big problem in the Outer Rim for centuries. Tatooine has never been free since it was colonized. My father was born a slave and was freed by a Jedi. After my father left, my grandmother was bought by Uncle Owen’s father. He loved her and married her. Aunt Beru saw her parents get taken by slavers when she thirteen. She was lucky to have been given room and board by the Lars in exchange for work. Orphans without families rarely survive free on Tatooine. Skywalker, Whitesun, and Darklighter are all slave names. Names that were adopted when original family names were lost. I am the first freeborn Skywalker in generations.”

Leia forehead creased in displeasure. “The Republic would never have tolerated that.”

“Hate to break it to you, your Worship, the Republic let a lot of bad things happen especially on the Outer Rim.” Han retorted.

"It is why the Separatists had so much support. They took advantage of legitimate grievances. The Senate gave preferential treatment to the wealthy Core Worlds and to elites. Worlds like Tatooine were ignored. The Hutts even had treaties with the Republic." Chewie rumbled.

Dessert was finished in awkward silence. Sabine wanted to take a bowl of leftover soup back to Ezra. Leia stopped her and went so far as to comm a warning to Hera.

That night, Leia lay awake on her bunk thinking about what had been said. It flew in the face of everything she had been taught by her parents but it felt right. She made a mental note to apologize to Luke. They always treated Luke like he was sheltered. In many ways he was. Occasionally though, she was reminded that he had seen horrors that had no place in civilization. When they rebuilt the Republic, they would have to do better.

Rolling over, she had to smirk at the idea of Imperials wanting to take Luke to medbay because he was eating a supernova pepper like it was a piece of fruit.

Chapter Text

Sagging exhaustedly against a shipping container, Luke Skywalker closed his eyes as he tried to bring his ragged breathing and racing heart under control. The stich in his side twanged with every gasp. His legs burned. He was able to take some solace from feeling the rest of his team jump to hyperspace. At least, his friends were safe and Wedge had the data chip that they had come for.

The young Rebel tried not to think about shaking hands with their informant as his head exploded when a projectile from a large slugthrower entered their skull. He tried to block the memory of blood, bone, and brain showering his face and chest. He did not have time to start shaking or vomit again.

It had only been two months since fleeing Tatooine. This was the first mission where he was not accompanying the Princess. Not only that, he was nominally in charge. When given the assignment, he had been so proud. Now, all he wanted was his Aunt’s arms around him. What had he been thinking? He was just some stupid farm boy and not a great warrior like his Father or Ben.

A deep rhythmic kish kosh sound echoed through the canyon of shipping containers. Icy tendrils reached for him. Panicked, Luke bolted from where the sound seemed to come from. He needed to find a way out. The containers were stacked five high forming deep narrow canyons. If there was logic to the layout of stacks, he had not found it.

In some ways, running between the stacks was like flying through Beggar’s Canyon. When flying, he was able to trust his instincts to know where to turn. Here, his terror blinded him to the gentle nudges of the Force.

To his left, a loud rattle came from beneath a container. An instant later, something dark shot from the shadows like a striking sand snake. Wrapping around his legs, the chain caused Luke to fall hard on the path. Gasping in pain, the rebel boy quickly rolled over before igniting his lightsaber. Easily slicing through the links, he untangled his legs.

Standing unsteadily, his left knee protested. Blood dripped from a scrape on his chin. Wanting nothing more than hide, he knew he had to keep moving. If he stopped, he would be taken. In pain and exhausted, Luke began jogging again with new determination. His terror, reined in so it no longer blinded him. Twice more cable or chains lashed out at him, but each time he easily dodged. His practice with the training droid had paid off.

Turning down another path, a giant dark shape dropped down ahead of him. Skidding to a stop on the gravel, Luke stared like a baby womprat in front of a speeder. Shaking off his paralysis, he turned and bolted down a short corridor before ducking into a narrow alley too small for Vader or a stormtrooper to follow.

Darting around a corner once more in a blind panic, he ran face first into a white armored chest. Luke fell onto the ground on top of the person wearing the chest plate. The startled man immediately grabbed Luke’s arms and somehow flipped them both over so he was pinning Luke. Slightly dazed, he wondered why Zev Veers was wearing armor. Confused, he asked “Zev? I thought you had left.”

The man, who on closer scrutiny was clearly not Zev, appeared taken a back. Another mqn dressed in a Navy officer’s uniform crouched down beside them. He reached toward Luke holding something in his hand. In fright, Luke pushed a wave of the Force out from him. The man who looked like an old Zev, kept hold of Luke as he was blasted into the side of a container. Groaning, the officer fell forward after the wave passed landing on his much smaller captive knocking the wind out of the boy.

Before Luke could recover, he felt something prick his right arm and something cold began spreading quickly through his body. Whatever it was left numbness in its wake. He barely felt when binders were snapped on his wrists pinning them behind his back. Sleepily, he lay unmoving on the ground. It took all of his fading strength to keep his eyes open.

A loud crunch of gravel and the sound of a respirator announced the arrival of Vader.

“Lord Vader, we found this on the boy and he used the Force to try to escape. He is now sedated.” A voice spoke somewhere over him. Luke was too tired to easily follow what was happening.

Luke was suddenly plucked from the ground and slammed into a side of a shipping container. Pain flashed through his arms and back. A pained whine escaped his lips. Held at eye level by the giant cyborg, Luke dangled helplessly.

“Where did you get this?” A deep voice demanded. Luke struggled to focus his eyes. His thoughts were like mush.

“Answer me!” Vader snarled. His words laced with power. He was holding Luke’s lightsaber in front of his face.

“Was my dad's. Ben gave it to me.” Luke’s voice was weak and so slurred as to be nearly be incomprehensible.

“What?! Boy, who was your father?” Vader demanded. His grip on Luke’s right shoulder tightened painfully.

“Anakin Skywalker. You killed him.”

Vader dropped the boy like he had been burned. “No! That’s not true. That’s impossible!”

The ground shook as though there was an earthquake. The containers began groaning as they were crushed. The Force, it confirmed the truth of the boys words. A crushed container fell from the stack over the barely conscious boy. Reacting without thought Vader snatched the boy up and tossed the durasteel container away as it was child’s toy.

Striding and leaping easily over fallen containers, Vader carried his prize. The screams of the injured went ignored. He had come to hunt Kenobi’s padawan and instead found his son.

Once clear of the falling containers, Vader stopped. He took a moment to examine is son’s slack face. Placing a finger on the boy’s forehead, he ordered him to sleep. Obediently, the boy’s eyes closed as he lost his tenuous grip on consciousness.

Later, in a private medbay on the Devastator, a terrified doctor asked for a name to put on the patient’s charts. Vader stared at him for a moment. He did not know his son’s name. Luke. Padme had chosen Luke if their child was a boy. He did not know what name the boy had been using but his name was going to be Luke. Skywalker, Naberrie, and Amidala would all be suitable family names but they might be flagged by his Master. Thinking fast, he recalled his step family.

Finally responding, Vader ordered, “Use Luke Lars.”