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Chapter Text

Blue eyes snapped open as Obi-Wan Kenobi suddenly woke.

The heart stopping panic that had engulfed his dream faded like an early morning mist, however a sense of unease remained. As per usual, his dreams had consisted of disorienting flashes and screams. The harrowing memories of a life left behind.

“Urrgh..”

The pained groan emerged unbidden from him. His joints popped loudly and his muscles strained as he sat up. The twin suns of Tatooine had aged him rapidly, as despite only being 52 standard years old, he more closely resembled a worn out old man. Shaggy white hair framed a wrinkled visage that displayed hints of extreme climates other than desert, of ultimate cold and humidity. A scruffy beard covered his lower face, but all of the sandblasted-skin that was visible was covered in a flash-flood of scars and wrinkles. Obi-Wan felt like all his years of injury, stress and heartache were catching up to him.

“Ben, you old fool. Your name is Ben.” he said firmly.

It was strange. Sometimes his old life seemed as though it was a dream. A never ending series of disasters that happened to some other man. A life of adventure and heartache that seemed implausible in this dark era of the galaxy.

On other days, however, he had to remind himself that he was no longer a great Jedi master, merely an old hermit scavenging to survive. On those days, suppressing his instincts as a jedi seemed an impossible task. In a place as filled with misery and violence as Tatooine, the urge to ignite his lightsaber and fight once again for justice felt unbearable to overcome. But overcome it he did, as Ben’s reason for being on this barren wasteland of a world was far more important than rescuing individual beings.

The young boy that would bring balance to the force mattered far more than the other denizens of this world, as it was his fate to fix all the horror that had befallen the galaxy. Obi-wan made a noise of discomfort. It had never sat right with him that a child should have such a bloody task laid before them, and so much responsibility they did not even know about. He been tasked by master Yoda to train this child of prophecy in the ways of the Force, to prepare him for his destiny. However, after entrusting the boy to his Aunt and Uncle, Ben had very limited contact with him. He supposed that he could not blame his guardians, as the bulk of Ben’s life as a jedi had been spent failing Anakin Skywalker. Still, with all that was at stake, Ben felt that they could at least allow him to do more than gift the boy some models of spaceships.

A wry grin spread on his cracked lips as he thought of that. Whilst young Luke favoured his mother in appearance, he took after his father in spirit. If not for his skills as a pilot, then it was for his ability to worry Ben that he succeeded Anakin. When word had gotten to Ben that a young Skywalker boy had won the Boonta Eve Classic pod race, he felt as if the Force itself was laughing at him. Behind his Uncle’s back, Luke had cobbled together a repulsor craft and entered himself into the long standing race. Whilst he claimed that he had done so to collect the prize money for his Uncle’s farm, which had fallen on hard financial times, Ben suspected that it was the allure of excitement and danger that had drawn Luke’s eye.

Excitement and danger seemed to be the motivating forces of Luke’s very being. As soon as Luke could walk he had wandered into trouble. When Luke was five Ben had watched him leap into a nest of womp rats, just to see if he could get out again. At age ten, Luke was attempting to ride a mudhorn to school and raising a litter of massiffs under his bed. By age 12 Luke was delving into forgotten tunnels to uncover ancient Kumumgah hieroglyphs, enraging tribes of Tusken Raiders as he did so.

Most recently, Luke had taken on a young Krayt dragon to harvest the pearl found in its body. The boy had tracked the creature to its den and attempted to shoot it with his hunting rifle. Hours later, a battered and acid burned Luke had emerged from the den, proudly clutching the highly valued pearl. Any other individual would have been killed a hundred times over if they had taken on any of Luke’s insane endeavours, but the Force was strong in the boy.

However, after this most recent adventure, it seemed there was little more trouble Luke could get into, no more death defying escapades that could satiate him. It seemed that Tatooine was just too small to contain a Skywalker. After his most recent exploits, Ben was unsure how Owen Lars could convince Luke to stay on-world.

Ben lightly shook himself, as he was getting too wrapped up in his own thoughts. That was one of the subtler impacts that his self-imposed exile had on him. The years of isolation had led to him getting trapped in his head, his train of thought being circular and unending. Where once his stream of consciousness could be directed solely to the mission at hand, he now had trouble focusing on anything but his failures.

Ben took a moment, and returned to his earlier thoughts. What had caused him to wake up in such a panic? He had long grown used to the nightmares that plagued him, and he could not sense any dangers out of the usual. Could it have been imagined? Yet another consequence of his heart-shattering loneliness? However, try as he might, he could not shake the ominous sense of foreboding. Ben had long since learned to trust these instincts, as they had saved his life more times than he could count.

Then he felt it. The dark side, a cloying hatred and burning loathing that seemed to engulf the whole planet. Ben was momentarily staggered by the power emanating from the Force, and the intensity of the pain broadcasted by seemingly one individual.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he had pulled his robes on and grabbed his lightsaber. As he ran out the mouth of his cave Ben took a moment to curse his lack of foresight. He had no speeders on hand, as he had feared his movements being tracked. His trusty mount, Akanni, was a powerfully built eopie that had kept him company throughout his long exile. However, she had breathed her last the month before, and Ben had not yet found a replacement. He had grown complacent.

Calling on the Force more deeply than he had in over a decade, Obi-Wan Kenobi propelled himself across the arid sands of Tatooine. Whilst he had no idea how it could have happened, Obi-Wan was sure that Darth Vader had found out the truth of Luke’s parentage. It was the only explanation he could conceive of that explained the waves of dark side energy that emanated from Luke’s home.

“Bwooomm!”

Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber in preparation of a fight. His feet pounded against the shifting sands, and he tried to mentally adjust himself. It had been too long since he had spared with anyone, and the thought of fighting against the wretched monster that wore Anakin Skywalker’s skin tore at his heart.

Running as though his heart would burst, Obi-Wan could see the outline of the Lars moisture farm, which was surrounded by a bevy of transport vehicles. Smoke billowed out of the homestead, and Obi-Wan desperately tried to move faster. However, as he came closer to the burning building, he noticed that the vehicles were not of Imperial design. They appeared to be a random assortment of machines that could be sourced on Tatooine.

With fresh doubt entering his mind, Obi-Wan drew close to the carnage. Bodies lay scattered around the machinery. They were clearly not an Imperial force, merely a group of local criminals. They must have come here in an attempt to intimidate the Lars family. Obi-Wan shook his head. He should have expected something like this would happen. A race as anticipated as the Boota Eve would have assuredly grabbed a lot of attention, and Luke’s winning of the prize money would have attracted many unscrupulous characters. However, what was left of the criminals seemed too well equipped to be a roving band of thieves. High quality blasters and ammunition lay sporadically around the bodies. Well-equipped warriors were in short supply on Tatooine, as they could only be afforded by an influential benefactor of ill repute. It was entirely possible that the Boonta Eve race had been fixed, with a winner already selected before the race began. If that was so, Luke winning the race may have motivated the individuals gambling on it to collect for their losses.

It appeared that Owen and Beru had mounted an impressive stand against them. Carbon scoring from blaster bolts marred the transports, and the bodies of the mercenaries were riddled with injuries. Obi-Wan moved towards the homestead. Regardless of motives, these criminals must have attacked the Lars family, and that meant that Luke was in incredible danger.

Pulling his robes over his nose and mouth, Obi-Wan braved the burning building. Tables and chairs had been upturned and used for cover, each having been abandoned as the Lars’ were forced to retreat. The further he entered the underground home, the more devastation he saw, as the fire continued to spread.

Eventually, Obi-Wan came across the sight he feared to see, but deep down knew was inevitable. Owen and Beru Lars, dead. Their glassy, unseeing eyes stared at Obi-Wan, judging him for yet another failure. Hand in hand, they lay on the floor of what was once their bedroom. Their blasters must have run out of power packs, as they had been discarded at the entrance to the room. The invading horde of mercenaries must have gunned them down, despite them being unarmed.

Obi-Wan steeled himself. Owen and Beru had been good, hard working people. Once more he was reminded that, in this so often appalling galaxy, living a good life did not ensure good things would happen. However, this was not the time to mourn. Luke was not laying dead alongside his family, which meant that there was a chance he escaped.

Looking around the room, Obi-Wan saw what he had initially overlooked. Body parts lay scattered around the room. A hand over here, a leg over there, and a twisted mass of flesh was strewn on the floor. The parched sands of Tatooine eagerly lapped up the blood that was not smeared on the dim walls. This group had not been killed by any blaster Obi-Wan had seen. Indeed, it seemed as though they had been brutally ripped apart by a wild animal.

Even more frantically than before, Obi-Wan searched the home for Luke. Whatever had done that, it was unlikely that it would spare the child. Calling on the Force, Obi-Wan opened his senses and scanned for any remaining life forms in the building, however, nothing called out to him. Eventually, the fire had spread beyond any control, and the rising smoke forced Obi-Wan to leave the premises. He only prayed that Luke had managed to get out before any further tragedies befell the family.

Back in the open, Obi-Wan took a breath of fresh air. Ever since Mustufar, he had a distaste for fire and smoke. Any time around intense heat brought back memories that were best left buried. As he was valiantly trying to push those memories away, a wheezing sound cut through the haunting silence of the desert. Obi-Wan took a moment. The sound did not belong to a child, so that ruled out Luke being injured.

Another brutal, yet weak gasp emerged from up ahead. Laying in the sand, was the last surviving mercenary, who was desperately dragging himself away from the carnage. Obi-wan approached the figure. Wild, terrified eyes gleamed up at him, and a muffled wail emerged from the ruin of his mouth. It seemed that whatever had torn apart his comrades had not left this man unscathed. His arms and legs had been twisted around until they shattered, and blood bubbled out of the gash that was left of his mouth. It was clear that these injuries were not ones that he would survive, regardless of what Obi-Wan did.

He knelt next to the wretched figure. He had been left unable to communicate, so interrogating him regarding what had happened was fruitless. Instead, Obi-Wan put his hand to the man’s forehead, as their minds intermingled. It had been a long time since Obi-Wan had used this particular power. The jedi mind probe was a powerful ability, but there was a great deal of risk involved in delving into the mind of another. The mind was not as simple as a book to be read at one’s leisure. Instead it was a twisting maze of thoughts, opinions and instincts. A jedi had to be careful to not be pulled into that maze too deeply, or there was a chance their mind would forever be lost.

Flashes of memories assailed Obi-Wan. Memories of a parents’ smile, first kisses and near death experiences. It was a sobering experience, to see the intimate memories of another. Knowing that even this murdering bandit had such sweet memories made his imminent death all the more heart breaking. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan delved deeper, specifically looking for memories associated with the burning farm house behind them. Seeing from the man’s own eyes, Obi-Wan observed the bloated form of Jabba the Hutt ordering the group of mercenaries to attack the Lars family and collect the prize money.

Memories of laughing with his friends and eagerly anticipating what they would spend their bounty on swirled around Obi-Wan, as he forced his way through the man’s rapidly fading mind. Blaster fire fell like rain, as Obi-Wan was thrust into the memory of the assault. He could clearly see the Lars family firing wildly on their assailants. Owen stood firm, brazenly standing tall as chaos raged around him. Beru crouched low, as her blaster cleanly picked off one attacker after another. Luke was further back in the house, his rifle firing into the crowd. Obi-Wan stared at the naked fear on the child’s face. Yet another youngling forced to grow up too soon.

The memories shifted again, until the group had entered the Lars family bedroom. Owen and Beru were standing together, defiant in the face of death. Luke was behind them, trying to be as brave as his guardians. The dishonourable collection of mercenaries chortled as they took in the sight.

“I’ve got to hand it to you swine-herders, that was much more difficult than expected. All we wanted to do was to talk to you fine folks about paying your taxes.” one mercenary boldly proclaimed, but Owen Lars stood firm.

“You could have told us that before firing blindly into our home.” Owen growled out.

“Well that would have been a much less fun way of doing things.” another man chuckled.

“Oh, is having half of your friends killed like womp rats fun for you?” Luke asked. Usually, he would have been much more careful with his word choice, but he sensed that a situation like this only had one ending. Beru gave him a warning look.

“What my nephew means to say is, what exactly are you here to discuss?”. Beru was well-used to playing the peacemaker in the family, and she was skilled at diffusing the tension that the heat of Tatooine always stirred up.

“We humble servants have been sent by the great Jabba the Hutt,” the lead mercenary mocked “to discuss your winnings in the Boonta Eve pod race. You see, our great benefactor had a great deal of money riding on that race, and your nephew’s interference meant he lost out on that money”. All eyes turned to Luke.

Owen stepped forward to guide attention away from the boy he considered a son. “We would be happy to help out Jabba, but unfortunately it seems like you've already burned down all we have, so paying him back may prove difficult”.

A cruel smile emerged on the faces of the mercenaries. “Fortunately for you, Jabba is a very compassionate being. He would be happy to take you into his employ to work off your debt to him”.

The Lars family collectively sucked in a breath. Jabba was the most infamous slaver in the Outer Rim. Entering into servitude with him would ensure that they never tasted freedom again.

“Well,” Beru began, “it would take a long time for us to work off the debt we have accrued. Perhaps a different arrangement could be worked out? This moisture farm is one of the few left that is not controlled by the mighty Jabba. Every moisture farm that he has taken into his employ has unfortunately dried up. If we were to give our farm to Jabba, and teach you all we know of farming, I’m sure that would equal what Jabba lost in the race”.

Owen tensed. This farm was his life, and he would rather die than see it in the greasy hands of Jabba. However, it wouldn't just be him who would die if he kept it, but the rest of his family also. He would do what he must.

The mercenaries took a moment. “Well, perhaps that’s true, but Jabba's really set on having some new employees. We could compromise. The boy is called Skywalker, no? With a name like that, he would fit right in with us.”

Owen and Beru fought to hide their mounting terror. Skywalker was a slave name on Tatooine, a way to show that you did not belong to yourself. No matter what happened after, the name showed that you were born into servitude. They had always told Luke to go by the name Lars in public, so that unscrupulous characters did not take him as an escaped slave. But if it had become common knowledge who Luke was, the situation had become a great deal more dangerous.

“He’s just a boy,” Beru desperately proclaimed, “he would be of no use to you”. The group chuckled at her. “Oh I’m sure we could find a space in our gang for the lad,” one proclaimed, “there's always work to be had in the palace. He won the Boonta Eve right? He could fly for us if we needed him.”

“Take me instead.” Owen said tersely. If these men had their hearts set on owning a member of his family, he would be damned if it was anybody but him.

“No!” Luke cried. He had tried to remain silent throughout the exchange as his Aunt wanted, but the thought of his Uncle being taken into slavery in his place was too much to bear. “Well isn’t that sweet,” one of the men claimed, “it almost brings a tear to my eye. You make an adorable little family. But the boy would do great with us, and his service would pay back the money that was lost. You could always have a son of your own to replace him, and continue with this family business without him.”

“However, as he said before, you just shot our friends down like womp rats.” another mercenary spat at them. “We also need payment for that”. All the other mercenaries seemed to be in agreement. A shroud of malice swept over all of them at that statement.

Guns were raised, and blaster bolts fired, as Owen and Beru Lars fell. Young Luke Skywalker stared in horror as the only family he had ever known died in front of him.

As Luke knelt beside the still warm bodies of his Aunt and Uncle, one of the mercenaries approached. “Ah buck up lad, soon enough you’ll have another family” he jeered mockingly. “There are plenty of other Skywalkers on Tatooine. You’ll get close to them real soon.”

Furniture in the room began to shake, as the mercenaries looked around in confusion. The air itself seemed to be changing, as though it were becoming heavier. A soul-crushing scream tore its way from Luke’s throat, as he glared up at the mercenaries with pure, concentrated, white-hot fury. His irises themselves seemed to vibrate in pin point anger.

From there, what had happened became clear. The dark side manifested itself in the room, as walls cracked and the light dimmed. The mercenaries were lifted in the air, and the room was filled with the pain filled screams of dying men. Bodies were torn asunder, limbs were rendered apart, and the insides of the group were painfully ripped out.

Throughout it all, Obi-wan's blue eyes watched Luke in horror.

Chapter Text

The rolling sand dunes sped by, as Luke Skywalker drove his newly acquired speeder bike away from the tattered remnants of his life. The only life he had ever known, the only family he had, lay burning behind him. It seemed impossible, like an unending nightmare. His Uncle Owen had always seemed stalwart, immovable. His Aunt Beru had always seemed so full of life, vibrant. But now, their corpses lay smouldering in the house that had been their safe haven.

And it was all his fault.

Luke had always had a knack for attracting trouble. It seemed he couldn’t walk two feet without getting into a different scrape. His family had always warned him to be more cautious, as ‘safety’ was an ever changing state of affairs on Tatooine. But Luke had never listened to them. He knew what could happen, but it never seemed like it could happen to him. Yet here he was. 

He urged the speeder to move faster, desperately trying to put the memories behind him, yet tears still streamed down his cheeks, stinging his battered face. Luke searched for something, anything, to focus on. Something other than the gnawing sense of guilt and loss that hounded him.  The rapidly approaching outline of Mos Eisley seemed a good place to start. Along with his friends, Luke had frequently snuck into many places of ill repute. The back room of Tosche station, and a variety of different seedy cantinas were favourite haunts of his friends. Mos Eisley was infamous as a hive of scum and villainy, which just meant that Luke was desperate to see inside. However, they also had quick bouncers and a surly bartender that always managed to chase him off. Luke had even attempted to wear a disguise once, but apparently the bartender was keen enough to see through a fake moustache made of womp rat fur. Luke wasn’t sure what he would encounter in that wretched place, and he was even less sure on how he would barter passage off planet.

He’d spent his whole life dreaming about leaving Tatooine, but now that he would be forced to do so, he could barely stomach it. But there was no way that he could stay after everything that happened. Once word got back to Jabba that his men lay dead, and that Luke had escaped, there would be no hiding. Many people had run away from the slimy Daimyo in the past, however very few escaped him for long. Of the ones that did, if any returned back to Tatooine they met swift retribution. The Hutt had a long memory where revenge was concerned.

Pulling into the Mos Eisley spaceport, Luke began to look around for a trader. He didn’t have much of anything to sell besides his newly acquired speeder bike. He hadn’t had the presence of mind to grab anything from his home, the brutal murder of his family rather took precedence. But, as he had emerged from the carnage, he grabbed a speeder bike that had been left idle. 

However, selling it would prove to be another matter. Any trader on Tatooine would hardly care if it was stolen. Most goods were, especially any that Jawas had got their hands on. It was the damage caused by blaster bolts that gave Luke pause. The bike was already in poor condition, but after being used as cover during the shootout at the Lars homestead, it was a miracle it could still fly. 

However, money of any amount was desperately needed. Entering the most reputable looking traders he could find, Luke dragged his speeder bike behind him. Leaving anything, even of meager value, unattended on Tatooine was a surefire way to get it stolen. Luke pulled up his hood as he approached, trying to hide the savage wound on the side of his face. A stray blaster bolt had torn across his cheek, just below his ear. The blaster must have been of high quality, as the shot had instantly cauterised the wound. That level of damage would be hard to fix with anything less than an immediate soak in a bacta tank. Still, if he had to choose between a scar across his face and neck, or a gory and bloody mess that would attract a great deal of attention, he guessed he’d choose the scar. 

“Hello there”, Luke began, forcing a smile onto his face, “I was wondering if you would be interested in buying a speeder bike?”.

The owner of the store stared at him. The rodian behind the counter seemed slightly drunk, but that didn't stop him from looking at the speeder with mild interest. 

“That speeder's seen better days ” the shopkeeper drawled. “I’m guessing by all that carbon scoring that you want this to be discreet? Discretion costs extra.”

Luke held back a grimace. Bartering had never been something he had enjoyed. However, negotiating deals with the Jawas besides his Uncle had taught him a lot about engaging with greedy individuals. 

“Yeah I suppose that’s fair,” Luke stated, “but that discretion goes both ways. You don’t talk about where the blaster shots came from, and I don’t talk about how you were willing to buy a speeder without seeing if it could still bloody fly. Getting this ironed out quickly would be best for both of us.”

“Hrrmph.” The rodian seemed annoyed that Luke wouldn’t immediately fold. “I guess I could swing 500 credits for it.”

“500 credits?!” Luke exclaimed. “I could make more than that by tearing it apart and selling it for scrap!”

“In all fairness, it already is a heap of scrap. It’s a miracle it’s running at all.” 

Clearly Luke would need to take a different tactic. 

“Even with the damage, this bike is worth at least 2500. Still, since you’re so charming I’ll settle for 2000, and to ensure our oh so important discretion. Any more than that and I might as well go and find some Jawas to trade with.”

The rodian spat on the ground “Of course an unwashed nerf-herder like you would deal with those filthy Jawas.”

“Better to deal with Jawas than to be robbed by you.”

“Fine. This isn’t worth my time, my kriffing head is killing me. 1750, that's my final offer.”

Luke would have been happy with 1500, so this negotiation seemed to be a win.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Quickly grabbing the credits, and counting them to make sure he wasn’t short changed, Luke turned around to leave.

“Wait a minute, this brand on the speeder. This… this is Jabba’s insignia!”

Of course, Luke had noticed this as he was flying the speeder, and had covered it as best he could by smudging over it with carbon-scoring. Only Jabba the Hutt would be arrogant enough to brand the enforcers of his illegal endeavours. It spoke to how powerful he was, and to how corrupt this corner of the galaxy had always been.

“Well,” Luke said with a smile ”I did pay for your discretion.”

Frantic swearing echoed into the street, as Luke made his way deeper into Mos Eisley. He didn’t have the money to buy himself a ship, and he didn’t want to entrust his safety to anyone who might be in league with Jabba. That didn’t leave him a lot of options, as the slime covered crime boss controlled most everyone on the planet. 

The twin suns were beginning to rise high in the sky as Luke entered the infamous Mos Eisley cantina. If he needed to disappear, this was the place to go. Whilst it was riddled with bounty hunters, it was generally considered a no man’s land where you could drink in peace, without your bounty following you. However, criminals weren’t known for adhering to the rules.

The cantina was dimly lit, and the stark contrast of the bright Tatooine morning and the dim room left him momentarily blinded. It vaguely occurred to him that this was by design, so the occupants of the room could see all who entered, before they could see them. 

Luke wandered into the room trying to maintain a casual air. A random assortment of alien faces stared at him. Whilst Tatooine was a reasonably diverse planet, Luke had never seen such a spread of different species in one place . Moving into a shadowed corner, Luke started assessing the scene in more detail, straining to see if any patrons recognised him. However, he couldn’t see the gleam of recognition in any beings’ eyes. In fact, the only gleam seemed to be coming from a spice haze.

 Now that he was settled, he felt slightly more comfortable, and thus pulled his hood down. Wearing a hood and trying to act discreet in a place like this was more likely to make him stand out. Besides, most of the people in the room seemed to have been in a fight recently.

Everyone in the room had a relatively foreboding appearance, and he was unsure how to tell if they were associated with Jabba. Asking them directly was a good way to be immediately caught. All he could do was search for Jabba’s insignia on the patrons, however you didn’t have to signal loyalty to him to be willing to take his money. It was hard to hear any conversations over the music that was playing. Bith musicians were blasting live music, with a small group lazily dancing alongside it. Apparently the party from last night was still ongoing.

Deciding that lurking in the corner wouldn’t get him any closer to leaving the planet, Luke strolled closer to the bar. He attempted to eavesdrop on a group of Coreilian pilots. If anyone would take him off planet without asking questions it would be them. But before he could, he was approached by a scruffy looking traveller.

“Hello there. I’m guessing by the strained look on your face, and the fact you clearly don’t belong here, that you are troubled”.

Luke was dismayed that he had been so easily noticed. Sitting besides the smiling stranger, he decided to try and diffuse any tension prematurely.

“Very perceptive you are. I’m here on a top secret mission from the emperor himself, to understand the local culture.”

The man looked vaguely amused. “Who knows with this strange galaxy. Soon enough, that just might be the truth.”

Luke assumed that the man was drunk or high, or merely trying to soften him up. “I’m afraid I don’t know your name.” he started. 

“Oh I wouldn’t worry yourself, not many people know my name these days. There was a time everyone did, but even then, they all just called me master mirror. Or the man of glass.”

Luke wasn’t sure if he was meant to be impressed. There was a reason Tatooine had little glass used in construction. The sandstorms that randomly hurtled across the planet would quickly shred anything that wasn’t transparasteel. Mirrors especially weren’t common, it wasn’t like being baked alive by the sun and constantly having your face sand blasted had left anyone on the planet being particularly vain.

“The name’s Gaunter O’Dimm. I’m here on business that doesn’t involve mirrors. Well not yet anyway. My employer told me to be here, waiting for somebody of special importance.”

“Can’t be all that important if they’re on Tatooine.” Luke stated dryly. He wasn’t starting to wish this man would leave him alone. Whilst it helped him blend in he wasn’t any closer to getting off world.

Gaunter O’Dimm chuckled. “Oh I agree. They’re really not special yet. But my employer foresees them growing much bigger. Best to get to potential clients before they have an unearned sense of entitlement, I find.”

“Welp,” Luke said, slapping his knees, “I wish you the best of luck buttering them up.” He hoped this O’Dimm character would not take offense in his awkward attempt to end the conversation.

Before he could go, O’Dimm snatched his hand. “I’d pull my hood up if I were you.”

Luke stared at him. He couldn’t parse if he was being mocked or helped. Deciding he didn’t have much pride left, Luke pulled up his hood on his worn poncho.

Suddenly all conversation in the cantina dimmed. A series of alerts were sounded all throughout the cantina. The alarms were coming from bounty pucks, which displayed a holographic image of the Lars family. Apparently word had already gotten back to Jabba about the massacre that had occurred, and he was looking to capture the only person who walked away. For all his many faults, you couldn’t say the Hutt was lazy when dealing with potential enemies. Luke could roughly make out the writing displayed on the holo pucks, which detailed what had happened and where he was most likely to be.

The bounty hunters in the room began to glance around and activate their tracking fobs, to see if there had been any information on where he was exactly. Seeing this, Luke tried his best not to panic. Running out of the room would alert everyone in the cantina. Standing slowly, Luke moved towards the drunken shapes of those still partying. Blending in with this crown was his only way to avoid drawing attention for the time being. Looking back to give O’Dimm his thanks, Luke couldn’t see him anymore. However, he might have left himself after seeing the pucks if he had a bounty on him. 

The bounty hunters that had been alerted slowly started to filter out of the room. For them, the bounty seemed like a steal, as all they had to do was capture one child, who had nowhere to hide. Fortunately, none of them suspected that the farm boy had wandered into one of the most dangerous cantinas on the planet. It was a good thing they walked out when they did, as Luke was struggling to keep on blending in. These were the exact same sort of people who had killed his family. They were practically skipping at the thought of easy credits, not caring about the young boy they’d be dooming to a life of misery. The same burning hatred that had ripped apart the mercenaries began to emerge once again. Luke could barely contain it, however, remembering the screams of those men dying held him back. His mind could barely comprehend what had happened, what he had unleashed. He could feel the same, supernatural power building, but forced it down. He worried that if he delved into that mystical energy again, he would end up tearing apart Tatooine itself.

Forcefully sobering himself, Luke slowly walked back out of the cantina. With a bounty on his head, Luke knew he could not barter his way off the planet. The meager amount of credits he had amassed would not be able to buy anyone’s silence. The only way he could get away was if he spoke to someone who already had incentive to get him off world, and recruiters were always looking to pad their numbers.

Luke had wanted to avoid this but it seemed he had little choice. It had always been a dream of his to join the imperial academy, and get a job working as a pilot in the imperial military. That was one of the few legitimate ways of getting off Tatooine without becoming a smuggler. However, in his current circumstances, it was unlikely he’d get any reputable placements. Any high-ranking positions would require extensive background checks, and he didn’t trust that they wouldn’t immediately hand him over to the Hutt clans. If not for credits, then to maintain their tentative peace with the Daimyo. 

Instead, Luke knew he would have to try and join as an Imperial army trooper. A markedly unglamorous position, they were essentially the lowest grunts of the entire military. If stormtroopers were expendable, army troopers were little more than canon fodder. However, this position would not require much of a background check, and any recruiters would get a bonus for recruiting someone to such an undervalued position. 

Add in a bribe with the money from the speeder bike, and Luke felt like he may just get away from this unending nightmare. With a heavy heart, Luke marched on. He stuck to the shadows as best he could, and kept looking around for any bounty hunters that were searching for him. It seemed that it had kicked up quite a fuss. Whether it was friends of the deceased looking for revenge, or people in desperate need of cash, it seemed like every 20 feet there was another person playing inspector. 

Eventually, he made it to the imperial outpost undetected. Tatooine was far enough away from the core worlds that the empire might as well not exist here, which meant that what passed for an imperial recruitment office was a battered, single room building with a bored officer and a small guard. He walked straight to the recruitment officer, praying that word hadn’t gotten out to these ‘upstanding’ folks about his bounty. 

“Hello there sir,” he began, hoping to come off as hopeful and inspired, “I was wondering if there were any chance I could join the imperial army troopers?”

The officer raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. “Really? You don’t look a day over twelve. I’d have to check with your parents if you want to join the youth corps.”

Luke chafed at this. He was fourteen years old dank farrik. Sure, that was still underage for entering the Imperial army, which only accepts sixteen and above, but it wasn’t that big a difference. He had been waiting for a growth spurt for years. 

Luke chuckled good naturedly. “I’m afraid that I’ve been cursed with a baby face. But one of these days I swear I’ll hit puberty.”

The officer laughed. “I wouldn’t hold out hope for that kid.”

“Besides, I wouldn't worry about my age. It’s not like it states that on my registration. All that matters is that I signed up under you of sound mind and body. I’m not saying I’m the smartest cookie in the jar, but I can figure out a blaster. At least I hope so anyway.”

“Well..” the officer hesitated, “I can’t just enlist you without any identification. We need proof of birth and to check for any criminal history. Especially on this dustball of a world.”

Luke couldn’t have that. Not only did he not have his credentials on him, but if they did even a cursory scan, they’d find out what had happened. He needed to take a different tactic. 

“And why, exactly, do you want to join the Imperial military anyway? It’s a great honor, and we do not accept just anyone.” The officer continued.

The Army Troopers behind him chuckled. The imperial army would take anybody who was foolish enough, or desperate enough, to sign up.

Luke prepared himself to wax poetical about honour, duty and order, but he had a feeling that they would see right through that, and it would only serve to irritate them. He wasn’t sure what gave him that impression, but he had an undeniable feeling that they weren’t looking for a spiel extolling the virtues of the Empire. Whenever he was shopping with his Aunt or trading with his Uncle, these instincts served him well, as he always felt he had an insight into the other beings’ desires.

“I want to see the galaxy, sir. I’ve been on this barren wasteland of a world my entire life, but there’s a whole galaxy out there. I won’t spend the rest of my life here. I want to see something green for once, I want to feel the rain. I’ll tell whoever asked that you’re the one who convinced me to sign up. All I want is to see the stars.”

The officer considered him. Perhaps he spoke to the instincts of a man who signed up to see the galaxy himself, only to be stationed on a desert. Perhaps he spoke to someone who truly believed in what the Empire stood for, and felt someone with such determination would serve it well. Or maybe he merely spoke to his greed. But regardless of motive, he seemed convinced.

“Well son, how could I say no to an offer like that. We’ll ignore the age, but it might be a struggle to smooth that over. All that extra work would need a bit of help to go through.”

Looks like it was his greed after all, Luke thought. Still, if it got him off world he was happy for it. Less happy knowing he’d be serving under men like this for the foreseeable future, but he didn’t have many options left.

“Of course, that sounds good. I’d be happy to help with any paperwork problems that come up. And it’s only right that I hand over my possessions for you to check. Make sure I’m not bringing anything dangerous on board.”

There really was no need for this song and dance, of avoiding the words ‘bribe’ and ‘money’ and ‘greedy self-serving bastard’. Still, it never hurt anyone to be cautious, Uncle Owen said. Of course Luke never listened to him, but that’s besides the point.

Handing over most of the money he’d got from the speeder, Luke smiled at the officer. He didn’t want to give it all, in case subsequent problems emerged.

Avarice glittered in the officers’ eyes. “All of your paperwork seems to be in order Mr..?”

“Whitesun. Luke Whitesun.” 

Perhaps not the most creative name change, but Luke was comfortable with that. Keeping his first name was a risk, but it was the only thing he had from his mother. Apparently she had named him before she died, and he didn’t want to lose that tentative connection. Names were important in Tatooine, they were the only things slavers couldn’t truly take away. Whitesun was a risk as well, being his Aunt’s maiden name. But despite being desperate to survive and move on, Luke refused to leave his family behind fully.

“Well then, Luke Whitesun, welcome to the Imperial Army Troopers. Adventure and excitement await.” The officer said mockingly. It seemed that once he was enlisted and had given away his money, there was no point in treating Luke like a person. Still, Luke thought, how bad could it be?

Chapter Text

*13 weeks later*

The shuttle transport was rocked violently as they approached the planet below. Entering through a planet’s atmosphere was never easy, but doing so under fire, and on a battered old ship? It was beyond terrifying. It truly made one think ‘If a being were meant to fly, the Force would’ve given them wings’.

Luke, however, couldn’t help the thrill of excitement that rushed through him. He had always loved to experience new things, and knowing that all that separated him from a fiery explosion was less than one metre of durasteel? It left him buzzing with adrenalin. Still, he worked to sober his expression, lest it be misread as fear. Showing his fear around any of the soldiers surrounding him would undoubtedly end in ridicule. Amongst trained fighters, being in touch with one’s emotions wasn’t exactly a point of pride. However, Luke could sense that their feelings leant more towards being scared out of their minds than excitement. Individuals chased from their homes, pressed into service, and out of other options- all of them had one thing in common: there was nowhere else they could go. Besides this intuition, Luke didn’t know any of his fellow soldiers beyond the absolute basics.

The training for Imperial army troopers was relatively brief, only spanning 13 weeks. They had covered the basics of warfare and shooting, but nothing more. It had driven home how expendable they all were, merely there to be used and thrown away. In the Imperial military you were not an individual, merely a cog in the galaxy-spanning machine. This made friendship a foreign concept amongst the nameless, faceless warriors. However, even if he had been able to connect to his fellow soldiers as individuals, Luke would have remained as isolated as he was now. 

Time and distance had done nothing to fade the memories of Tatooine, and he still felt the loss of his Aunt and Uncle daily. Sometimes he thought he was dealing with the pain of their absence well, but inevitably the grief and loss would overwhelm him once again. The only thing he could think of was how it was all his fault. They always told him how his recklessness would lead to trouble, but he never listened. His actions had directly led to their demise, as they would never have incurred Jabba’s wrath without him. After this, getting close to another being didn’t seem possible. His guilt kept everyone at a distance.

Another sudden tremble of the ship knocked him out of his haunting melancholy. He and his fellow army troopers had been deployed to Mimban, and they were rapidly approaching their destination. The swamp world, which was located on the Outer Rim, had been causing trouble since the clone wars. But ever since the Empire took over, the Mimbanese Liberation Army had increased their level of resistance. A bloody coup had overtaken the world and now the Empire was set on conquering it, with fire and blood. If not for the plentiful natural resources, then to demonstrate what happened to anyone who showed defiance to the Empire’s rule. However, whilst it was labelled as a swamp world in the Imperial database, years of over-mining and warfare had led to the planet being little more than a ball of mud. That would be the biggest opponent they would face in this war. Mud. The troopers were taught that mud was the being they would face daily and would never defeat. It would suck them into sinkholes. It would rot their feet off. It would cloy at them until they couldn’t move. Despite this, they hadn’t actually been given instructions on how to deal with it. Apparently their deaths were all but a certainty, and the time spent training them to survive was not worth the cost. 

The 224th Imperial Armoured Division, which Luke had been assigned to, were set to be deployed on the most populated continent of the planet. They had been commanded to beat back the Mimbanese and retake any mining facilities they found along their assault. Luke was deeply unhappy that he had been made to join this fight. He had hoped he would be part of some minor planetary defence force, where the most he would have to deal with was stolen goods or the occasional peaceful protest. Instead, he was assigned to fight and kill beings who were merely defending their home. But he rationalised that if it wasn’t him, the Empire would merely send someone else in his place. That thought didn’t help much, given as it was likely the reason the raiders had justified killing his family. Still, all he could hope for was that rejoining the Empire would bring Mimban economic and social stability, which would justify their assault. However, this too rang hollow. All beings knew that whilst the Empire improved every system it touched in terms of trade and safety, it was the Core Worlds and the Emperor’s cronies who would gain the most. Nevertheless, this wasn’t the time or the place for introspection. Whilst the transport shuttle had no viewports from where he and his fellow troopers sat, Luke could sense the ground growing nearer. Just then, they finally touched down. A voice played over the speakers, telling them all to disembark. After a delay, the ramp leading to the planet belched acrid steam, and then lowered. Already, the mud of the planet began to crawl towards them up the ramp. 

Walking out of the shuttle, in line with his fellow troopers, Luke took a moment to breathe in the air of a different planet. Sure, the training camp he’d spent the last 13 weeks on was technically on another planet. But he’d never been allowed to leave the compound. He never even learned the name of the planet they were on. The only thing that signalled they’d left Tatooine was the increased gravity. Apparently, the Empire was trying out having troopers train in higher gravity, so they’d be stronger and more able in regular gravity. It was the same concept as training at high altitude for the benefits on oxygen absorption. However, Luke thought it was a terrible idea. Sure it made a vague amount of sense, but in reality it was awful. It made them stronger in most aspects, as their muscles were now used to compensating for high gravity, but any muscle memory that they had acquired in terms of marksmanship would now be more of a hindrance than a help. To Luke, it was emblematic of the entire military-industrial complex of the Empire. Flashy and ostentatious wastes of money with the barest amount of thought put behind them. As Uncle Owen had always said, a fool and their credits are easily parted. 

As the troopers marched further forward, they saw what passed for a camp on Mimban. Dug into the ground was a deep trench, supported only by rough patches of durasteel. The walls of the trench not covered in scarred steel were a dripping mess of mud, with a swampy puddle of filth lining the bottom of the trench.  Trench warfare was a beyond outdated form of fighting, but on Mimban, it was all they had. In cases such as this, where most of a planet was in open rebellion, orbital bombardment from a Star Destroyer was the go to move for most Admirals. For some Admirals even a small amount of rebellion, or even possible rebellious sentiments, resulted in bombardment. However Mimban was a special case. A dense fog enveloped most of the planet, even before the overmining had pumped toxic chemicals into the air. Now, the air was unbreathable in places, and ensured that nobody could accurately target anything through the opaque mist. Blind orbital bombardments had still been attempted, however Mimban had another trick up its sleeve. The native Mimbanese lived in underground warrens in the mud, half swimming and half crawling in the swampy tunnels. Whilst a Star Destroyer could usually obliterate anything on a planet, regardless of proximity to the surface, the hyperbaride minerals in the planet protected the tunnels. 

The reason the Empire, and the Republic before it, were so invested in Mimban was because of these minerals. Hyperbaride minerals were a super heavy element that were known for their ability to withstand high temperatures and radiation. This made them extremely useful in construction of weapons such as ion cannons. It also made them excellent shelter, as they dispersed the heat and impacts of a Star Destroyer bombardment.

It was ironic, Luke thought. The minerals that attracted the Empire to the planet were what protected the Mimbanese from the Empire’s wrath. 

Still, whilst enjoyably ironic, Like did not enjoy that the unique circumstances of Mimban left soldiers like him slogging it out in the mud with the Mimbanese Liberation Army. Fear began to swarm his thoughts, and a desperate plea rose within him, to run, hide, or cower. But he pushed the feeling down.

“Alright you worthless nerf herders!” A voice rang out, abruptly dragging Luke from his thoughts. “I know that you lot are the most worthless refuge in the known galaxy, but I have been tasked with using you to retake this planet from the rebels hell bent on destroying it. My name is Sergeant Barnes, and I will be commanding you until the fight here is done!”

Sergeant Barnes was a grizzled old trooper, who looked like he’d just crawled out of a grave. Mud clung to his uniform like a desperate lover, and his blood stained hands wildly gesticulated to the assembled troops.

“If any of you come to me complaining about feeling sad, or scared, or concerned about my decisions, I will take great pleasure in plugging you with a blaster bolt and leaving you to be dragged down in the mud. You are not here to question. You are not here to think. You are here to die. We’ve all been sent here because the Empire wants Mimban, and they expect us to die trying. But if you stay alert, follow orders, and hold yourselves together, you might just be lucky enough to die with some small measure of dignity. Now follow me into the trenches, and I’ll show you where you’ll spend the next few months bothering me”.

The group of troopers stood still for half a second, taking time to absorb the dark prophecies that had been levied at them. However this seemed a half second too long for Barnes.

“What are you kriffing waiting for? Get into the trench you useless band of banthas!” Barnes screamed out. The troopers practically tripped over themselves to obey, leaping down into the trench to avoid any more of Barnes’ howling.

Luke waited until the rest were settled before he climbed down into the trench. He had prepared himself for grown men screaming at him the second he had chosen to join the Empire’s military, so Barnes hardly shocked him. In fact, all Luke could think was that the man was immensely over dramatic. Sure, they were most likely going to die here, but Barnes seemed almost ecstatic to reveal this to his troops. Didn’t seem like a man who was a capable military leader, if the only inspiration he could touch on was ‘die with some small measure of dignity’. By the time he had touched the swampy water lurking at the bottom of the trench, Luke could feel all eyes on him. The troops had parted to let Barnes walk closer to Luke, who was standing over him menacingly.

“I was afraid I’d chip a nail.” Luke deadpanned before Barnes could start wailing again. He had planned on being as subservient as he needed to be, so he could get by and eventually return to Tatooine. However it seemed that his mouth was the one thing that stayed with him since the massacre. The ever-present rage that had hounded his steps since that awful night was another thing that had stuck with him, but Luke was in denial about that. The spitting hatred inside him never truly slept, but sometimes he could ignore it. Sometimes he could pretend he was the same as he was before. But that was a lie. He would always hold his hatred close to him. It was the only companion he had left. 

Barnes just stared at him. Eventually he croaked out, “People like you never survive this. Even if they survive for a short while, they end up sticking their blaster in their mouths”.  Coldly, Barnes turned to look at the other troopers. “We’re all dead beings walking,” he told them, “but this one is going to die quick. Do yourselves a favour and keep your distance”.

As his irritation at Barnes boiled into anger, Luke’s insight flared up again, and he got a quick look into Barnes’ mind. He didn’t see a cruel sadist like he expected, but a broken warrior who had lost too many friends. He had accepted that he was already dead, and felt that drilling that into new recruits’ heads was the best way for them to accept the situation. Luke stood still for a moment. Whilst  Barnes was a thoroughly unlikeable man, he wasn’t a monster. Against his will, Luke could feel his glare at Barnes’ back softening. Perhaps Luke would do best following his lead, if he had seen so much and was still standing.

Barnes led them through the trench complex, and explained to them what was going to happen the following day. They were going to run out over the top of the trench, and run toward the Mimbanese Liberation Army. The MLA had been firing at them as the transport settled down, but their blasters weren't of a high enough calibre to truly damage it. But now they were on the same turf, and the Mimbanese had evolved to live on this planet.

“These damn swamp dwellers were born to this bantha shit. The mud that will drown you will mean nothing to them. The air that will choke you will pass right over them. Their beady eyes can see infrared, so even if you can't see anyone, you can be sure they can see you. The only way to survive is to charge and shoot at anything that might be moving.”

With that sobering knowledge, the troopers settled down to sleep before the big day. However, sleep was elusive for all of them. Their ‘beds’ were little more than soaked roll mats laid out in the mud. Water dripped down on them no matter what, and the cold of the night froze the stagnant water around them. Luke had heard the phrase bone chilling before, and thought that it described a temperature similar to a night on the empty deserts of Tatooine. But even the coldest of Tatooine nights was nothing compared to the gnawing, frigid temperatures of a Mimbanese night. 

As sleep had eluded all of them, every soldier present tried to occupy themselves. Some beings prayed. Others wrote to their families. But Luke simply sat there. He was no stranger to risk, but even he had an icy fear creeping up his body. He could feel it begin to paralyse his body and his mind, as the promises of tomorrow drew closer. With great effort, he pushed his fear away.

Before attempting again to find some sleep Luke thought, as he always did, about the loss of his family. He thought of Jabba’s vengeance preventing him from returning home. He thought of the Mimbanese, who were lurking in the dark, plotting to kill him. He thought of the bastards at the top of the Empire who had ordered him to come here.

And his fury burned enough to chase the cold away.  

Chapter Text

Dawn rose over Mimban, however it didn’t bring much light. The fog that eternally hung in Mimban's atmosphere had descended on the trenches, resulting in Luke being unable to see his hand held inches in front of his face. He had pulled his respirator on as soon as he had woken up, in case of any toxicity lurking in the shroud. It was unlikely that poisonous air would have descended this early, but it didn’t hurt to be wary of suffocating to death. It did ruin breakfast however, as he had to pull aside his mask and scarf down a small morsel of breakfast, then quickly pull his mask back on. His fellow troopers did much the same. Whenever they pulled down their masks, Luke could see naked terror on their faces. He could empathise, as he was so afraid that he might as well be choking on toxic air, as he could barely breathe. Every instinct he had was telling him to run away before he was sent over the top to die, but he pushed the thought down. Running away would surely be treated as treason, and he was sure that Barnes had a blaster bolt with his name on it.

Luke began to inspect and maintain his equipment to take his mind off the gnawing sense of dread. Army troopers were not given high quality gear, and whilst this markedly lessened their survival odds, it made it easier for field maintenance. All he had to do was sharpen his vibroblade, clean out the mud from his ancient MW-20 Bryar pistol, and do a thorough inspection of his E-10 Blaster rifle. His armour was close to non-existent, wearing a basic helmet and chest covering. Despite being assigned to the 224th Armoured Division, he wore less armour than a basic storm trooper. Yet another helpful reminder that his survival odds were so low that the Empire didn’t even bother to give him adequate armour. There was no way he could clean the mud off his uniform, so he didn’t even try. He doubted Barnes would care anyway.

The troopers slowly filed out of what passed for a dorm room, and approached the wall of the trench. They had been assured that the whole battlefield was crawling with MLA, and the only reason their transport could approach such a dangerous war zone was that the MLA could not fire a high powered rocket without giving away their positions. Once again, Luke sensed that he and his fellow Troopers resented their training. Not only did it not give them the skills to survive, but it ensured they would die surrounded by strangers. Barnes approached the sorry group, his eyes smouldering with distaste.

“What’s the matter, troopers? Didn’t you listen when I told you that dying here was a sure-fire thing? Did you think you’d be the lucky one to survive? Well that’s not kriffing happening. We can’t control what happens to us over there. All we can control is that we drag as many of those reptilian nerf-herders to hell along with us as we can.”

However, after a moment of staring at the desperately frightened soldiers, his eyes softened. For a short second, he had gone back to the first time he went over the top. He remembered how his fear left him damn near blind, and how it caused his friends to start shaking so much that they couldn’t aim accurately. 

“You’re all afraid, aren’t you?” He asked. All the assembled troopers nodded slowly, expecting him to throw verbal barbs at them for their fear.

“At least you can admit it,” Barnes said softly, “you’ll die honest beings. It doesn’t matter that you’re scared. Fear is good. Fear keeps you sharp. It makes you faster, and tougher. And meaner. That’s what matters. Master your fear lads. Take what you can from it, and ditch all the rest. Don’t let it control you, because it will make you start to shake, then you’ll shit yourself. Then you’ll die. Control it, or it controls you”.

Every trooper present just stared back at him. Luke was also struck dumb. Sure, he had sensed a greater depth to the man, but it seemed that there was even more to him than that. Perhaps he was like Mimban itself. It wasn’t much to look at, and seemed little more than warmed over hell. But deep beneath the surface there was something of value. However, they didn’t have any time to compliment Barnes on his philosophical musings. Instead, they had to approach the walls of the trench, and hoist forward rickety ladders to climb over with. The ladders couldn’t grip to the walls of the trench that were supported with durasteel, so instead the troopers had to press the ladders into the mud walls and hope that they weren’t sucked away.

As Luke awkwardly wrangled with the ladder that would deliver him into direct hellfire, he mused on what Barnes had said to them. What Barnes said was in line with what Uncle Owen had told him. In his mind’s eye he could recall seeing his Aunt and Uncle in their bed, after Luke had walked into their room after a nightmare. As a child, Luke had always had awful nightmares. They were a blurry mix of differing sensations, but one thing was always the same. The burning. He dreamt that he couldn’t feel his legs. He couldn’t move his arms. All he could feel was the fire licking at his body, scorching him down to the marrow. His Aunt and Uncle were always vaguely horrified at this dream, and Luke sensed it was for reasons more significant than the disturbing details. After once again waking them up, teary eyed and terrified, he had apologised profusely for not being brave enough to handle his dreams by himself. His guardians worked themselves ragged every day to keep the farm afloat, and there he was, waking them up from what little rest they got. But Uncle Owen had looked at him with those kind but tired eyes, and said “Being brave isn’t about having no fear, Luke. It’s about being stronger than your fear. I’m sure that one day you’ll be able to handle your dreams on your own. After all, you’re a Skywalker. Bravery is in your blood.”

Luke’s eyes misted over. Even after being gone for so long, his family was still supporting him. As the whole Imperial unit prepared to join the fight, Luke peered inside himself. The heart stopping fear was still present, but now Luke felt he could look at it more objectively. It made him faster and sharper. He was more aware of his surroundings, and more prepared to fire his blaster at his enemy. He harnessed all he could from his fear, and cast the rest aside to drown in the mud. By the time he’d come back to reality, he could just about hear Barnes begin to countdown.

When the countdown finished all was silent for a moment. The entire galaxy seemed to hold its breath.

“Attack!!”

Luke couldn’t bloody see anything. The mists of Mimban seemed to be siding with the MLA, as whilst they could see you, you sure as hell couldn’t see them. He could make out vague outlines in the mists: dark shadows hunting each other. However he couldn’t make out any real definition. Whenever Luke thought he saw movement, he fired his blaster. A small, rational part of his brain fretted that he could be firing on his fellow troopers. He could just be giving away his location. He could be drawing them right to him! But Luke forced these thoughts down. If he stopped moving, or stopped firing, he was dead. 

All around him, Luke could hear the screams of dying beings. The Mimbanese, using old blasters salvaged from the Empire or the Republic before them, were coldly picking off the interlopers one by one. Luke realised that no matter how fast he fired, he couldn’t match the MLA’s ruthless efficiency. So how could he possibly beat them, let alone survive the skirmish? If his sight was compromised, perhaps he could rely on his other senses, he mused. Sound? Whilst he could hear his fellow troopers squelching in the mud, the Mimbanese moved through it silently. The benefits of fighting on your home turf he supposed. If they were on the arid sand dunes of Tatooine he would dominate, but unfortunately that wouldn’t help him here.

Smell? He doubted that the Mimbanese smelled particularly pleasant, given the complete lack of clean water or soap on the planet. However, they had covered themselves head to flipper with mud as they advanced on the trench, meaning they wouldn’t smell any different than anything else on the kriffing planet.

Just as Luke was debating on how he could try and utilise touch to find them without running around like a madman and waving his arms around blindly, something brutally smashed into the side of his helmet. Apparently standing still while firing his rifle at random was a good way to get spotted. The MLA, when not using scavenged blasters, tended to fight with the Mimbanese war spear. With the top half being a spear and the bottom half functioning as a mace, Luke would always consider himself lucky that this soldier chose to smash his skull in rather than quickly stab him.

However, despite this brief spell of good fortune, the impact from the blow threw Luke forward, face first in the mud. The cloying filth gripped onto his mask, completely removing any visibility. If the mist had ruined any chance at aiming at the enemy, this made him effectively blind. He might as well have been wearing a helmet with a blast shield down he thought, frantically panicking. 

As he made harsh contact with the ground, he instinctively rolled away from the being that must have been lurking somewhere behind him. As he desperately crawled backwards, he  realised that his rifle had been tossed aside when he fell. So now he had to resort to pulling out his blaster pistol, and hoping that blindly spraying blaster bolts around might hold his foe at bay, until he could get his vision back.

Firing as rapidly as possible, Luke began to feel anger welling up in his chest. Deep down, he knew that he was going to die here. The MLA soldier would just wait for him to run out of shots, and then would steal his life in one quick thrust. His fear of death was quickly crystallising into a burning rage. Was this his fate? To die an ignominious death, alone in the mud? Whilst he could sympathise with the Mimbanese plight, he hated that their defiance justified his death. 

No. Luke would not die here. He refused. He had escaped Tatooine, and made a promise to himself that someday he would return to his true home. This would not be the end of him. Distantly, the thought occurred to him that he had used up all of his blaster shots. The MW Bryar held 6 powerful shots, and Luke had used all but one of them to keep the MLA rebel at bay, who was surely crouching somewhere, waiting to kill him. His rage continued to climb. Why had the Empire equipped him with such an outdated weapon? 

Knowing that this was his last shot, and with all his perceptions rendered useless, Luke reached out with something else. The Krayt dragons of Tatooine could sense anything moving over the sands, so Luke attempted the same feat. Stretching out with his feelings, he searched for his enemy in the darkness.

Suddenly, Luke could see. Not with his eyes, as he was still covered in filth, but somehow the MLA combatant stood before him clear as day. Slowly, Luke moved his pistol in line with them, choosing not to waste this opportunity. The soldier’s bug-like eyes widened a fraction, with Luke aiming directly at them. Luke could feel the shock emanating from them. He could taste the cruel joy they had taken in watching him flail around like a new born in the dirt. Before they could act, Luke fired a shot straight through their chest. 

Rising to his feet, Luke gazed around the battlefield. Now, inexplicably, Luke could see all the combatants in the fight, and could clearly watch them do their utmost to kill each other. 

“Shavit..” Luke quirky murmured. Had the blow to his head given him brain damage or something? Surely it must have, for nothing else could explain this bizarre insight. 

Deciding not to look a gift bantha in the mouth, Luke moved forward, joining the fray once again. Trudging towards the continuing battle, Luke could see his blaster rifle laying on the ground. Bizarrely, it seemed to be glowing. As Luke picked it up to inspect it, he could see that the glow wasn’t because it had over heated, or that it was damaged, but instead it seemed to be emanating a mystical, glowing energy. Before Luke could inspect the magic gun and get to the bottom of its strange properties or his probable concussion, another Mimbanese soldier ran towards him. Wasting no time. Luke levied the gun at them, and fired a shot through their chest.

Soon he fired at another, and another, and another. Without the mist blinding him, he could shoot them down as easily as he could at target practice. Better even. It was almost as if he could predict where they were going, and what they would do. It was like he was living a few seconds in the future, as no matter where they tried to duck or hide, Luke knew where they would go before they even thought of it. Eventually, as their numbers continued to thin, the Mimbanese began to retreat. Whilst they were fighting in trench warfare, the MLA relied on smaller guerrilla units to battle the Empire. If they used the mist to their advantage, they could convince their opponents that they numbered far more than they did in reality. But as more and more fighters fell, they knew the battle was lost. 

Luke’s fury, however, refused to dissipate. If anything it seemed to grow stronger. No longer buffeted by fear, he was filled with the killer instinct of an apex predator on the prowl; the savage joy of squashing bugs. Despite his blaster rifle having run out of shots, Luke continued to slash at his foes with his vibroblade. Seeing one of the Mimbanese attempting to run away from the fray, Luke ran up behind them and tackled them. His fury continued to surge. After wreaking such havoc, after taking so many lives, they were just trying to slither away to save themselves? Wrenching the squirming figure onto its back, Luke bore down on them, attempting to drive his blade into their chest.

“P..please… noo..” a reedy voice rasped. Luke looked down, and noticed that the voice had come from the whimpering soldier beneath him. The Mimbanese had some knowledge of galactic basic, from having been invaded by off worlders so frequently. Apparently this soldier knew enough to beg for their lives.

Scorn flooded Luke’s mind. This mud dweller would have happily killed him only a moment ago, but now it had the gall to ask him to spare it? Every instinct inside of Luke screamed with blood thirsty intent. However, as he gazed down into those large black eyes, Luke could see his reflection. Not only the reflection of his battered helmet and rebreather, but the reflection of the boy who had lost his family to wanton violence. Pity began to mingle with the rage that was burning inside him.

However, whatever power had awakened within him continued to call for blood. His rational brain warred with this beastly power that called him to feast.  The monster inside him continued to writhe under his skin, feeling as though it would split him apart and leave behind only a husk that bled black, steaming blood. But as Luke continued to stare into those soulful eyes, he could feel his resolve strengthening. His Aunt and Uncle had been killed whilst defenceless and unarmed, and Luke could never force their cruel fates onto another.

Slowly, Luke began to lean backwards. His frothing hatred continued to rage against him, but he steeled himself, and forced it down. He would not be like the monsters who took everything from him.

As he slowly rose from straddling the being, it stared back at him. Despite not having human expressions, Luke could clearly sense confusion in its features. Imperial soldiers weren’t known for second guessing their choices, and certainly weren’t known for mercy. However, it knew that this was the only chance it had to leave with its life intact, so it slowly began to crawl away from Luke.

Luke stared at it whilst it retreated. He had never really considered what it meant to kill. He had killed animals on Tatooine, like womp rats and troublesome Massiffs, since he was a child. He had killed sentient beings when they had attacked his family and he had never considered the repercussions. Now though, as he watched the figure slinking away from him, he had to consider what he had done. He felt less guilt over the MLA deaths than he had thought that he would. Whilst he respected them for holding to their beliefs, despite him thinking they could have leveraged their resistance into getting a good deal with the Empire, he didn’t feel bad for fighting them. They would have happily killed him, so he would show them the same ferocity.

Still, he didn’t think he could ever execute a helpless opponent. Killing someone who couldn’t fight back would never sit right with him, and despite trying to harden himself to fight anyone he needed to, he couldn’t bring himself to be that merciless. Letting enemies live was obviously a poor choice for a soldier, and for all he knew his mercy could doom his entire squad, but Luke knew that he was not someone who was that heartless.

Slowly, Luke pulled off his battered helmet and face plate. The mists were beginning to lift as time dragged on, and with it, Luke’s special vision began to lift as well. Now that he could see the battlefield more clearly, he could see the devastation that he had left in his wake. Bodies of the Mimbanese littered the ground, outnumbering the Empire’s fallen 3 to 1. The troopers who had survived stared at the carnage around them, and began to group together, as they emerged from what little cover they had found to hide behind. The next few hours consisted of Luke persuading the beings around him that he hadn’t done anything special, but that they had in fact been remarkably accurate in their spray and pray firing. Luckily it did not take much cajoling to convince them of this, as deep down all of the soldiers desired to be the one in a million shot that could save the Empire.  

Soon enough, Barnes had them slogging through the mud, abandoning their previous trench. It was poorly built enough that it would quickly collapse and the MLA couldn’t use it, so they didn’t have to worry about an attack from the rear. All they had to worry about was the many coming attacks from the front. They had won their first skirmish, but there was an entire planet of hostiles out there, and Luke feared that his luck may run out soon. 

But as Barnes had said, he took what strength he could from his fear, and discarded the rest. 

Chapter Text

*2 years later*

Some beings could call Mimban beautiful. The vast majority of beings with sight would not call it that, but to a precious few it had a certain air of beautiful tragedy. The muddy quagmire of the ground and the ghastly green of the poisonous sky, whilst hell to most beings, could be seen as an artistic representation of resilience. A land where the courtesy of civilisation was stripped away, and only ferocious savagery remained. Across this brutal landscape, a battered yet bloodthirsty group of Imperial army troopers marched along. 

The sorry-looking group ground to a halt, as one figure knelt down to an average looking stretch of sludgy soil. Barnes growled. “What in sith hells are we waiting for? You can make sand castles some other time Whitesun!”

However, the group remained motionless. Over the course of the last 2 years, the soldiers had developed an almost cult-like belief in Luke’s intuition. Whenever Luke had a funny feeling, 30 soldiers would immediately leap to do his bidding. If Luke thought the air looked funny, rebreathers were immediately pulled over their faces. If he thought there was movement in the mists around them, blaster bolts would fly from every trooper in the vicinity. Currently, he thought that the ground felt strange, so they waited. 

Barnes however, who had never believed Luke was a clairvoyant let alone a decent soldier, loudly scoffed. “If you all want to dance to that whelp’s tune, so be it. I however, will not have an up jumped meat-shield tell me what to- Shavit!” 

Just as Barnes had begun to walk forward, the seemingly innocent ground began to swallow him whole. Mimban was a cruel mistress, and letting your guard down around her for a second led many beings to their untimely ends. Many soldiers who survived the MLA’s constant attacks found themselves at the mercy of the planet they now called home. 

Luke dived forward instinctively, grasping for Barnes’ hand, as his fellow soldiers watched impassively. Heroism was just as deadly as a blaster bolt on Mimban. When they had first arrived, the troopers had initially tried to save anybody who was in danger. Mimban summarily punished them for their efforts. Many times trying to save a friend from drowning in a quagmire lead troopers to their own demise. Dragging an injured soldier away from the fighting either gave away your own position to the MLA, or it left the poor injured soul to die a painful death from infection. The Empire had not bothered to train them, why should it try to save them? Indeed, many troopers had made the tacit agreement that if they were injured in a way that couldn’t be fixed, or they were being sucked down to a filthy grave, they would be spared with a quick blaster bolt. Whilst it had initially been soul-crushing to shoot your fellow soldiers like a wounded beast, eventually they had become accustomed to the bloody task. 

Luke himself had faced this attrition of the soul. Sparing injured or unarmed MLA members merely ensured they would escape in an underground tunnel and unveil your positions. Executing your friend was the greatest mercy you could afford them. However, Luke never could bring himself to kill an unarmed enemy, let alone a friend. Perhaps this was a weakness, as he could not muster the willpower to do what needed to be done, but Luke liked to think it was a strength. The instinct for cold blooded cruelty existed in all beings, but Luke thought that the ability to resist this calling, or at least to harness it in the most positive way one could, was the true test of a being’s soul. Whenever Luke was faced with these heart-wrenching decisions, whenever the rageful beast inside him was awake, he would strengthen his resolve by thinking of that first day on Mimban. Of that first fight, where he had spared an enemy combatant. The knowledge that he could beat back his savage power, and the thought of that being’s scared eyes always allowed his conscience to prevail.

However, his fellow troopers did not see his tenuous grip on morality as a strength, and nor did Barnes. Many saw him as too naive or weak, and despite them trusting his intuition they did not trust him to cover their backs. Barnes especially took an almost sadistic glee in taunting Luke over his suppression of his killer instinct, and would try and rile up the other troopers against Luke. Whilst Luke knew there was more heart to Barnes than he let on, spending day after day being ridiculed because Barnes saw him as the weak link in the chain was more than testing his patience. However, despite this, he was now risking his life in an attempt to save Barnes. It was not out of some misplaced loyalty, or a desire to prove to Barnes that Luke was a better soldier than him. It was instead a proclamation, to the galaxy and to Luke himself, that he would never become as jaded as Barnes. 

Barnes had assuredly once been like Luke. A relatively bright-eyed youth who had been forced to grow up too soon. War drove beings mad, and made even the best of them into monsters. Luke knew this well. For 24 standard months he had been forced to make hard calls, to choose his own survival over decency. Barnes had been making those choices for decades. Loss had made him cold. Vengeance had made him cruel. He had begun to glorify death in an attempt to circumvent his fear. Despite this, fear coursed through every part of Barnes’ character. As Luke struggled to pull Barnes up from the sucking, cloying sludge, he could sense that deep seated fear in Barnes radiate outwards.

Sensing that fear rising to a fever-pitch as Barnes sank lower and lower, Luke began to feast on it. He could sense the fear in the face of death, the rage burning at such an insulting end. And as he witnessed them, he could feel the same emotions blossoming in his chest.  Luke welcomed these feelings, as he had long since learned that when his feelings rose to the surface, nigh impossible things could happen. Sensing his own feelings and Barnes’ comingling inside the furnace of his heart, Luke could feel his power grow to new levels. As the flames of their desperate passions grew hotter, the mud that had been grasping at Barnes like writhing tentacles began to bubble and roil. Instead of sucking him down, it began to propel him upwards. Soon enough, the ground itself seemed to vomit him up. 

The assembled troops stared in wonder, and Luke could feel a touch of resentment wriggle through him. Sure, they were all under no illusions that helping a fellow soldier was the quickest way to ensure your own destruction. Still, they could have at least pretended to try and save his life, after he had helped to protect them so many times. 

“I guess Mimban hates Barnes as much as we do.” Luke said awkwardly. Whilst the troops had long since accepted that he had some sixth sense, seeing something so openly impossible could have had an unknown impact on them, and Luke felt that undercutting the situation with humour might help his chances. Knowing his luck, Luke thought wryly, they’d end up trying to burn him as a witch. However, they still just stood and stared. 

As Barnes struggled to his feet he trudged back towards the group, clay-like ooze clinging to his person. “Well, why are you just standing there? Make us a way across force-damnit!”.

The imminent threat of hard labour seemed to shake them out of their stupor, and also seemed to wash away the awe and fright inspired by the miraculous saving of Barnes. Luke could sense the mental groans emanating from his compatriots. If they weren’t being shot at or drowned, the ragged bunch had spent the last 2 years building impromptu roads to cross the swamp-land. Personally, Luke preferred being shot at. As the troopers laboured, digging down to firmer ground and laying durasteel panelling, Luke could feel Barnes’ eyes on him. As usual, they seemed to burn into him like acid. Likely he was annoyed that Luke had broken the agreement and saved his life. However, underneath that, there was a different feeling. Luke could not quite parse out what it was, but it felt like resentment, loyalty and distaste all combined. 

As they trudged ever further across the filthy soil, the group came closer to their objective. Apparently, a transport of fresh faced troops was touching down on the western hemisphere of the planet. Unlike Luke’s compatriots, these troopers would not be landing outside a run down trench, but one of the actually functioning mining rigs. Luke’s group were all resentful of this fact. Whilst the new troops would still face the same horrors that had been ubiquitous since they had arrived, at least they wouldn't have to be soaking wet their first night.

However, large metal structures belching smog into the atmosphere and vibrating the ground within twenty kilometers made for attractive targets to the MLA. This rig was no different. The base had been overwhelmed by MLA soldiers who had attacked in the dead of night, killing all guards and miners. Now all the base defenses had been turned against the Empire, and the seized weapons were picking off the approaching fresh troops. Luke felt that the Empire didn’t care as much about the seizure of their weapons or the death of the soldiers than they did about the cessation of mining. As always, anger bubbled inside him at the casual disregard for the lives of himself and people like him. Luke’s group had been tasked with joining up with a larger battalion and taking back the mining rig. Which had actually been taken from the Mimbanese. Which had actually been taken from the Republic. 

Mercifully, the ground began to solidify as they continued forward. Whilst little more than a large ball of mud, Mimban still had a variety of different fighting grounds. From a frozen tundra of mud, to rocky outcroppings of mud, to sandy shores… of mud. If nothing else, the variety of battlefields left Luke feeling that he could at least  take his new skills anywhere. If only he could get off this planet and away from his duty, he could use his newfound talents as a mercenary. Or sith hells, he mused, he could even try and take the fight back to Jabba. He had never forgotten what the greasy gastropod had done to his family. Whenever he felt his attention waning, or his shots missing, the memory of his loss would keep him sharp and ready to fight.

And it seemed he would need all the fighting spirit he had, as they had approached the mining rig, and the sight made all present choke on their breath.  

Apart from the structure swarming with MLA and blaster bolts spewing out of every defensive encampment, it also had some of the brand new TIE Strikers sitting brazenly on the roof. Now it made sense why the Empire had sent them here. Luke was under no compunction that his life, or the lives of his fellow troopers meant anything to the Empire. He had assumed they merely wanted the mining rig back to functioning, and any of the new troopers that were landing were just an afterthought. Instead, it seemed they had a more important goal in mind. The Mimbanese had managed to pose such a threat to the Empire because they were skilled at scavenging and understanding Imperial technology. After all the countless battles the 224th had fought in, they had mostly seen that the MLA had been firing at them with reconfigured Imperial weaponry. If the MLA got their slime covered hands on the TIEs, it could significantly change the tide of the war.

TIE Strikers functioned the same as  regular TIE fighters, however they were optimised to be used in planetary atmosphere. The wing configuration and engines had been changed to function better in gravity, as whilst a jack of all trades, the TIE fighter was better suited to deep space combat. The MLA had rarely flown starfighters over the battlefield, and if they did, they were flying in ancient Republic crafts that were more rust than actual ship. Indeed, Luke had found a savage joy in firing ground to air missiles at these fighters, leaving flaming wreckage to crash down the Mimbanese soldier’s heads.

However, if the MLA could get these new TIEs, there would be no weaponry Luke could use to shoot them down. With extra armour and shielding on their bellies, the Strikers were the best in the business at raining down hell fire. Every trooper present knew this, and they didn’t need Barnes to elucidate them on what and how important their mission was. He did this anyway

“Alright troopers. Those scum suckers have taken over that rig, and have sunk themselves into her defences. Usually we’d be killing ourselves to try and take it back from them, but that’s not our job today. Instead we’ll be killing ourselves to stop them from breaking into those Strikers up there. They’ve had days to break into them without damaging them, but these kriffing savages haven’t managed it yet. We’re gonna kill the lot of them before they get the chance. I’ll give you ladies a moment to sack up. Dismissed!” 

Amazingly, Barnes had said that all in one breath. Luke often thought Barnes' real talent was for dramatics, and should pursue a career in the Mon Calamari opera. He’d voiced this to Barnes when he’d first started, and promptly had his nose broken. Fondly reflecting on that memory, and his now slightly crooked nose, Luke pulled out his trusty Bryar Pistol and E-10 Blaster Rifle. Maintaining your equipment was always a vital procedure before battle, especially so when you were covered in the filth of Mimban. Settling himself on the firmest patch of dirt he could find, Luke worked to clean his weapons as best he could.

“You had to play the hero didn’t you Whitesun? Now we’ll be digging trenches for days”. Luke tensed as he looked up to see a mud-covered trooper baring over him, mask in place. Pulling the visor aside, a grizzled face looked down at him. “You know Barnes will never thank you right? Any my kriffing back won’t either”.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that Bode,” Luke replied, “I’m pretty sure Barnes is over there psyching himself up to beg for my holy forgiveness.” Pointing over at Barnes, who was scowling at the rig and mumbling to himself, Luke smirked at the trooper. “Maybe he’ll even let me put my feet up as you guys dig the fiftieth trench we’ve dug this month.”

Bode stared back. “Well if your holiness is getting to rest, would you mind moving your sacred ass and letting me sit there? You got the comfiest rock in the field”. Luke’s face split into a grin. All the troopers tended to give him a hard time, both for his small stature and his attempts to do the right thing, but over the course of the past 2 years they had formed strong bonds. Perhaps not of brotherhood, as their imminent deaths kept everyone somewhat insular, but camaraderie nonetheless. Scooching over, Luke let Bode sit next to him.

Bode dug out his own, much more stained weapons, and went through the motions of half-heartedly cleaning them. Luke always said that Bode would end up dying because his weapons jammed. In response, Bode would throw mud at Luke to prove he didn’t need them. However, he seemed to be of a more serious air than usual, and he looked around the crowds of troopers suspiciously. Different platoons were beginning to meet up now they had arrived, and Bode was looking at the congregating group warily.

“You know, we’ve all grown used to weird shavit happening around you Luke,” Bode began, “but today. That was something else”. Luke kept his gaze down at his weapons.

“I mean, feeling that the ground or the air is weird is one thing. Being a freakishly good shot is another. But making the mud barf up Barnes? That’s something else entirely”.

Luke continued to look down. Seeing his lack of a response, Bode moved his head closer to Luke. “I’ve been talking with the others. Most just accept it. They won’t admit it, but they’re just glad that Barnes is still around. He’s a mean old bastard, but he’s looked after us. For the most part. But these new guys? If they see you doing something like that, they’ll just shoot you. No questions”.

Luke moved his gaze up to Bode. He could sense his genuine concern for Luke, and Luke was touched, but he could sense something deeper. “So what exactly are you saying? Because if one of you guys get into a situation like Barnes did today, I’m not just gonna leave you to die. I know that we all get that if something happens, we can’t trust the others to save us, but I’m not just going to abandon you guys.”

Bode stared back at Luke, his gaze softening. “I’m not saying that you have to go back on your precious moral code,” he said, somewhat derisively, “all I’m saying is be discreet about it. Because if push comes to shove, we’re not sticking our necks out for you. You gotta look after yourself kid.”

Luke took a moment to think about that. If he got in trouble for his unnatural talents, he wouldn’t expect any of his squad to jump in front of the proverbial blaster bolt. But still, he’d like to think they’d at least try to help him. But maybe not. 

After that realisation, Bode moved away. Waiting a moment, Luke got up to join him, as they walked back to their own squad. Maybe he was still in this alone, as he had been ever since his family died, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still be friendly with his squad. They all stood around, cracking jokes, and doing their utmost to keep the mood light. Gallows' humour was still funny after all, and before the battle ahead of them, they’d need all the levity they could get. 

Chapter Text

Luke felt like his lungs were on fire.

Usually, skirmishes on Mimban were short yet bloody affairs, but this battle seemed interminable. The MLA usually relied on guerrilla warfare to beat back the Empire, so protracted engagements were far from the norm. But not today.

Today all present knew that the outcome of this fight could change the war. Every second the battle lasted, was a second longer for the MLA to break into the TIE Strikers and rain down hell fire. The Imperial battalions had attacked the mining rig that the Strikers were stationed on with all they had, but they had made little progress. Wave upon wave of Imperials had flooded the factory, but the Mimbanese had held them back with the rig's defences. 

Luke had been one of the first into the facility, and felt like he had already been fighting for days. His blasters had long since run out of ammunition, and he’d been forced to loot the bodies of his fallen comrades. He had thrown away his rebreather hours earlier, as he needed to get all the breath he could, and his rebreather just got in the way.

Battered, sweating, and thoroughly exhausted, Luke could feel his hope beginning to wane. In the past, his gifts and Barnes’ leadership had allowed for the 224th to survive nigh impossible odds, but this battle seemed destined to end in failure. Like could feel the fire inside him dwindling, worn down by fatigue and loss. Suddenly, a rage-filled howl reverberated through the corridor that Luke was hiding in. Luke had taken cover there in a vain attempt to get his breath back, but it seems the MLA had found him.

A large Mimbanese soldier ran towards Luke, with their war spear held high above their head. The fear that this blood-chilling visage elicited allowed his insight to flare, but despite his precognitive powers letting him know where and how the blow would land, Luke was too tired to dodge it. Too tired even to raise his blaster to shoot down his foe. Before he could yell out in surprise, pain exploded through his mind. He stumbled backwards, agony and blood blinding him. The spear had been swung down at an angle, cutting Luke directly over his right eye. Usually, his rebreathing faceplate would defend him, but it lay abandoned in one of the mine's many body-filled corridors.

In the past, pain would usually give fuel to his mystical powers, meaning that the burns and gashes of  warfare made him stronger, but the torturous suffering of his freely bleeding wound left his mind numb. Whilst Luke was reeling back in agony, the MLA soldier had brought the spear back to bear, and stabbed Luke directly in the torso. His meager armour held the deadly blade back from goring him, but it still managed to tear through his flesh. As Luke fell backwards, the soldier clambered on top of him, and brought the spear down to end his short life. Luke had always assumed that before death his life would flash before his eyes, but there was nothing. No fond memories of family. Or even treasured memories of adventures gone by. All Luke could see, through his non-damaged eye, was the blood stained spear of his killer.

But suddenly, it vanished. And so too did the weight on his chest. Blearily looking around, Luke could see a figure in Imperial armour tackling his foe. As Luke strained to his feet, he could hear the struggle beside him go quiet. Looking over towards them, Luke could see Barnes standing over his would-be killer. 

“Get up Whitesun!” Barnes barked, “This is no place to die”. Luke gazed at Barnes in awe. Despite it all, the miserable old bastard had saved his life. Stumbling towards him, Luke levied a smirk at him. “Guess this makes us even.” Luke joked.

“Not even close kid,” Barnes retorted, “you also owe me for taking the piss for the last two years.” Luke couldn’t help continuing to smile at his gruff retort.

“Now, if you’re done with this little pity-party, let's get back in the fray.” Barnes proclaimed.

Together, Luke and Barnes started working their way upwards through the rig, towards where the TIE Strikers were stationed. The corridors were filled with the bodies of the fallen, with the two Imperial warriors adding more MLA members to the piles. Despite exhaustion and blood loss taking their toll on him, Luke could feel himself growing stronger. Fighting with Barnes and confronting his closest near-death experience yet had adrenalin surging through his body like never before. The thrill of the hunt and the wanton violence had the power inside him singing, and combined with Barnes’ experienced blood-lust, they made short work of their foes.  Coming up to the top of the mining rig, Luke could see the approaching troop transports. They were horribly scared with blaster shots, with smoke pouring out of their engines and holding bays. Even if they could stay in the air for much longer, the whole landing bay was swarming with MLA soldiers. But what really grabbed his attention was the three Strikers that were slowly rising into the sky.

“Dank farrrik we’re too late!” Barnes shouted, “They’ve already got into them!”

Luke scanned across the roof and could see two more Strikers sitting in place, both with MLA soldiers crowded around them. “See those two Strikers left? If we could get into those, we could shoot down the Mimbanese bastards before they can even understand what they’re flying”.

“Good luck with that soldier,” Barnes snarled, “But how exactly do you plan to get into them? If you hadn’t noticed, half of Mimban is on this kriffing roof!”

Luke pointed ahead and to the right, where a damaged but seemingly operational ion turret sat. These manual turrets were all over the mining rig, and the MLA had used them to great effect in repelling the Imperials. This turret was manually operated, and had been shot at by the attacking soldiers. The body of its operator was still strapped into it. Barnes quickly shook his head. “Even if we could get it to work, we wouldn’t be able to take out those slimy savages fast enough. Those turrets are made to fire powerfully at distant targets, not accurately at small targets a couple hundred metres away”.

“Then let's not fire at the soldiers.” Luke replied. “We won’t be able to shoot down three different Strikers with a mounted turret, especially whilst under fire. So let's have one of us fire on the landed Striker to the right, and blow it up. The bang should take out most of them, and the MLA near the other one will back off. Then the other one of us can run up to it whilst they focus on the turret”.

Barnes gave him a measuring look. “Hmm. Not bad kid, there may be hope for you yet.” Luke couldn't help the pride and affection that welled up in his chest. It wasn’t that losing his guardians gave him daddy issues, but it was nice to be appreciated. Turning back to the battle, Barnes started issuing orders. “Alright, you go to the turret and I’ll sneak on board. You’re the better shot. Approach the turret from behind and-”

Feeling something warm and wet coat his face, Luke looked over and saw Barnes slumped over. They had taken cover whilst assessing the scene, but it seemed a lucky shot had taken down the veteran. Luke could scarcely believe it. Barnes had always seemed untouchable in a fight. But he didn’t even go out in a blaze of glory, just a quick and pointless end. Rolling the body over, Luke could see the smoking hole that the blaster had burned through his throat. The bolt would’ve gone through both of them, but all the energy was used up burning through Barnes’ armour and throat. Rage. A wrathful and hungry rage began to flood through Luke’s body. The eye that wasn’t covered in blood also began to see red, as a burning anger tore its way through his body. Luke had lost friends before, and Luke had lost family. But seeing a figure which had been the only constant in his life snatched away, ignited the ever-present fury inside him. 

As the same world-splitting hatred that had once torn apart mercenaries so long ago started to rise inside him, Luke glared back towards the battlefield. The feeling inside him demanded that he run towards the assembled MLA soldiers and tear his way through them, but with an immense effort of will, Luke moved his attention to the ion turret. Barnes had always insisted that a clear head trumped a battle-frenzy, and Luke fought to honour the wisdom of his not yet cold mentor. Looking towards the turret, Luke made sure he was still in cover, and aimed his will towards it. He had lifted Barnes from the mud earlier, just as he had lifted and torn the mercenaries apart. Reaching out with his feelings of wrath, Luke urged the turret to turn. Feeling metal start grinding together as it slowly moved, Luke now focused on the weapon attached to it. Moving as if he were possessed, Luke brazenly stood up and began slowly walking towards a TIE Striker. Despite knowing a sharp-shooter had just blasted Barnes apart whilst he was in cover, Luke moved without haste or fear.

His entire galaxy now revolved solely around that turret. Sensing that the time was now, Luke mentally squeezed on the turret, and let it fire away. An incredibly high-powered ion blast tore into the side of one Striker. With no shields, the bolt tore into the ship and resulted in a massive explosion. Bodies of the MLA flew outwards, and all heads turned towards it.

With that as his cue, Luke started running towards the remaining ship. However, as he ran, his head felt as if it were splitting apart, and suddenly he had double-vision. However it was not the double-vision of a head injury, of which he had suffered many in the trenches, but it seemed as though two realities were aligned on top of each other. One reality was the current one, with Luke running towards the TIE. The other seemed to be a few minutes ahead, and showed him being shot down before he reached the ship.

Too far gone into his powers and rage, he did not have the mental capacity left to question this new power. Instead, he flung his hand outward, mentally gripping and pulling the Striker towards him. The remaining MLA, who had moved away from the TIE after the other had exploded, were caught off guard by the moving ship. Assuming that one of their members had gotten inside whilst they were distracted, they moved out of its way. Too late they realised there was no one inside, and it was being dragged toward a bloody and battered Imperial. 

Using the ship as cover from the blaster bolts flying towards him, Luke leapt upwards, to where he knew the hatch release was located. Luke had always had a certain connection with machinery. It was not that he was gifted at mathematics or engineering, but instead that he just understood the technology in front of him. Even as a child, he could repair moisturators better than any other farm-hand. Not because he knew the schematics, but because he could feel inside the machinery, and knew exactly where everything was and how it should fit. This skill helped him now, as without breaking stride, he leapt inside the cockpit and fired up the engines. Soaring away from the bewildered soldiers, Luke gave chase on the Strikers in the air. Whilst he and Barnes were plotting, these ships had been firing down on the Imperial soldiers, and were preparing to destroy the approaching troop transports. 

Fortunately, it seemed they hadn’t noticed the destruction and repossession of the TIEs on the roof, and hadn’t started firing on Luke. Not that they could have hit them if they tried. Mimban was their domain, where they had the advantage. But now they were flying, and nobody was more at home in the air than a Skywalker. Regardless of his other talents, flying was what Luke truly excelled at. His father had been a navigator on a spice freighter, and his skills had passed to his son. Now the Mimbanese would see how dangerous a Tatooine podracer was in a properly armed ship.

Luke swept towards one of the Strikers, and brazenly opened fire. Luke had experience flying ships in atmosphere, and the Striker handled similarly to his old T-16 Skyhopper back home. Before the Mimbanese ship could even think to dodge out of the way, Luke had blown up their ship and swooped away like a bird of prey.

Sling shotting back around the erupting fireball, Luke flew directly at the oncoming enemy, and blasted them down without mercy. Only one Striker remained, and they seemed to have the bright idea of running away. Quickly pursuing, Luke let his anger flow freely. Filled with the savage strength of an apex predator on the hunt, Luke fired on the fleeing ship. Despite attempting to manoeuvre away from him, Luke knew exactly how they would move. Firing where he knew they would move to in a few nanoseconds, Luke was rewarded with a final erupting fireball. 

As the thrill of battle and blood shed began to wane, Luke began to feel a sobering realisation flood through him. He had just stolen an Imperial ship, without orders, and blown up three more Imperial ships. Nevermind that if he hadn’t done so, the Mimbanese would have gotten their flippers on the ships. The Empire rarely tolerated such brazen actions. A cold sweat began to break out on Luke, comingling with dirt and blood. The best he could hope for now was prison time or hard labour. An Imperial court martial was rarely merciful. 

“I must say, that in all my years in the military, I have never seen anything like this.” The Admiral said, sternly.

A clean-cut face, a neatly pressed uniform, and the complete absence of mud. The Admiral obviously did not belong on Mimban, having only come down planet-side after hearing that an upjumped army trooper had taken a Striker for a spin. After the battle, Luke had been given a chance to clean up, as best as one could whilst on Mimban, and was now standing at attention before the Admiral and a small number of Sergeants. Somehow, he had not lost his eye to the Mimbanese war spear, but it was currently heavily bandaged. However if he somehow got out of this situation alive, and without being sent to prison, he would likely lose the eye to infection. It was impossible to keep a wound clean on Mimban.

“I have never seen anyone behave so recklessly.” the Admiral continued, “You mounted a nearly suicidal charge on the mining rig. Then you broke into a sensitive piece of expensive equipment. Then you fired wantonly on another group of sensitive and expensive pieces of equipment. I must ask, throughout the whole ordeal, did you have any second thoughts? Did you think for a moment that just maybe there was another way to deal with this? That perhaps the Empire would have sent air support to deal with this serious situation? Well?”

Luke hadn’t done any of that, but he didn’t think that claiming a lack of foresight or critical thinking skills would help him here. Apparently, hearing that Mimban was once again causing troubles, an Imperial Star Destroyer had been sent to assist, and an entire fleet of TIE’s descended soon after Luke flew his Striker. Apparently the ground assault was mere distraction, as the Empire was not willing to suffer such a defeat. Imagine their surprise when the entire aerial assault had to be called off because one soldier had saved the day.

“Well Sir” Luke began, sounding as respectful as possible, “Sergeant Barnes, my commanding officer, told us that our mission was to prevent the Mimbanese from getting their hands on the Strikers. That’s what I did, because good soldiers follow orders. As for the recklessness, I had no idea we had back up coming. We had just lost Barnes, and I knew that if I didn’t act as swiftly as possible, the entire planet may soon be lost. So I did what I could. Sir”.

The Admiral just stared at Luke. After a long moment, a cool smile worked its way onto his face. “Hmm. Well despite your execution leaving a lot to be desired,” the Admiral stated quietly, “that is the kind of mind set and skill that we need in the Imperial navy. Thus, I would like to offer you a place in my TIE Fighter squadron. Whilst this proposition is highly unusual, this is indeed a highly unusual scenario.”

Luke was floored. The Imperial army and the Imperial navy were always at odds, each believing that the other was largely useless and a waste of resources. There was rarely any crossover between the two. But before he could seriously consider the offer, a dark thought crossed his mind. “Well.. Sir, the problem is, if a background check is required I might not be able to-”

The Admiral interrupted. “I am well aware of the kind of refuse the Imperial army troopers consists of”. The Imperial Sergeants glared at his back, but he gave them no mind. “We would be willing to overlook conducting a background check, as you have proven to be of a high enough moral character to sacrifice yourself for the Empire. So, with that item considered, will you accept this offer?”

Luke took a moment to think. Even back on Tatooine, he had always wanted to fly and get away from the worries of the world below. It had initially been his ambition to join up with the Imperial navy and make something of himself, as soon as Uncle Owen could spare him anyway. And here was his dream, offered to him on a patter. Whilst it might have been a circuitous path, he had gotten to his dream in the end. However, he could not help the blooming feeling of guilt in his chest. Whilst they didn’t always appreciate him, he didn’t feel like he could turn his back on his squad. Many had died in the rig assault, but others such as Bode had survived. Would he really be able to leave them? He knew what losing his friends and family meant, and Luke did not know if he could willingly walk away from them. But as he thought of Bode, he remembered his advice. To only look after himself. He had been right. In the end, Luke had been alone in his fighting of the Mimbanese. He had been alone when he walked into this tribunal. Indeed, if anyone had lived to report about how he had used magic to overcome the MLA, nobody would be standing with him. In the end, he only could look after himself. Casting aside any lingering guilt, Luke looked at the Admiral.

“Sir, I would be honoured”. 

Chapter Text

The new guy wasn’t going to make it.

Nakari Kelen, staring across what passed for a dining hall on a Star Destroyer, watched the new TIE pilot that had popped up from nowhere. Despite possessing no shielding or hyperdrives, TIE pilots were considered the best of the best. Years of heavy training in the best schools the Empire had to offer was not enough to join the backbone of the Imperial navy. You needed a certain reckless flair, mixed with an almost suicidal self-belief to go roaring into battle without so much as a deflector shield to protect you. This all had given the pilots a deserved sense of superiority. 

However, the new guy was nothing like his compatriots. Going from farm boy, to mud covered trooper, to TIE pilot was not an illustrious career progression in their eyes. Simply put, nobody on the Star Destroyer believed that Luke Whitesun deserved to be there.

Nakari, as per usual, went against the grain and had a different opinion. The Star Destroyer they were stationed on had a state of the art TIE simulator, allowing the pilots to keep their skills sharp without the threat of death. Nakari had gone to great effort to document and memorise how every pilot scored on this simulator. As her father always said, knowledge was power, and knowing which pilot to trust with your life was the most powerful knowledge she could have.

Simply put, Luke Whitesun was an absolute demon in the cockpit. Despite flying for less time than any of the other pilots, and despite not having even been trained, he dominated the simulator in every category. This of course made the other recruits resent him. Having trained all your life for something and being shown up by an uneducated mud trooper would do that to you, Nakari supposed. But whilst the others saw a threat, Nakari saw potential. Unlike the rebels’ X-wings, TIEs lack of shielding required all pilots to work in unison. Where the rebels could work more individually, every TIE pilot had to pair up to cover each others’ flanks. So far, nobody trusted the new guy to cover their six, as there was a wide berth of distance between skill in a simulator and live combat. But Nakari thought that maybe Luke’s unconventional flying skills would pair nicely with her wild piloting.

Suddenly standing, Nakari walked away from her current group and marched towards the new pilot, who sat alone. Nakari, who had been trained by the best and with the best, had never struggled to fit in on the Destroyer, but the same couldn’t be said for the new kid. It was actually quite sad, Nakari thought. She could see on his face that he was always desperate for company, but seemed resigned to being alone. The same subdued hopefulness seemed to blossom on his face as she sat down in front of him.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t see you there. Hi, I’m Luke Whitesun. Did you need anything?” he asked politely. 

His voice was lighter than she expected, but she supposed that it fit his youthful frame. Despite his height making it easy to read his sixteen years of age, he had more battle scars than most men twice his age. A savage scar tore its way over his right eye, deep and brutal. He was lucky that he hadn’t lost his eye. Another deep rut was carved across his cheek and neck, which looked painful despite its clear age. Another mass of scar tissue was slashed across his nose, with the slightly crooked bridge of said nose showing that it was roughly broken. Looking him over again, Nakari saw that more scars stained his exposed arms. Rough patches covered his battered knuckles, and streaks of discoloration bloomed across his skin like fireworks. Overall, it looked like he’d been thrown face first into hell. Knowing that he’d come from Mimban, Nakari supposed it wasn’t far from the truth.

Seeing Luke looking around self-consciously, she realised that she had been staring at him without saying anything for quite some time. Nakari quietly cursed. She’d always had a habit of staring at people, trying to unpack them and figure them out.

“Yes sorry, I know who you are. You’re the guy who’s dominating the scoreboards on the simulator, right?”. Hoping that the flattery would relieve the awkward tension, Nakari was grateful when Luke seemed to relax.

“Yeah I guess that’s me. I’ve gotta say, that simulator is the most fun I’ve had in ages. I always wanted to fly in one of those as a kid. The closest I had back then was waving around model starships and imagining I was the second coming of Garm Bel Ilbis”.

Nakari snorted. Garm Bel Ilbis was a famous Corellian pilot and senator, who epitomised the Corellian spirit of fierce independence and even fiercer piloting skills. He’d fought brilliantly in the Clone Wars, and despite his rather traitorous end, he was still considered a fantastic example of piloting and leadership to this day.

”Not a bad role model, but I’ve got to say I was always more partial to Zara Nova myself. Give me a good story about a roguish smuggler over a stuffy senator any day”. Luke’s eyes brightened at that comment.

“I always loved stories about her too. Smuggling was the only job on Tatooine that didn’t involve farming or robbing innocent people, so I kind of always wanted to smuggle like that. Anything to avoid having to stay on planet”.

Nakari smiled. “Now you’re speaking my language.” she started, “I grew up on Pasher. Much less, shall we say exciting, than Tatooine but similarly hot and empty. It’s an Inner Rim planet, so it had much more trade and commodities than I imagine Tatooine would have. But I had to get away from there, even if it was my home”.

“Exactly!” Luke was practically bouncing in his chair at that comment, “I do love the desert, in a way. How it’s all teeming with life, just beneath the surface, and how the sunset would bathe the whole world in orange. But I just had to go. The whole galaxy was calling me, and I couldn’t just wait for it to come to me”.

Despite having plenty of friends amongst the other pilots, it had been a long time since Nakari had talked so openly and freely about her home. It had been longer still since she had felt so understood. Her life on Pasher was a positive one, but ever since she was a girl the stars had called to her. It was refreshing to talk to somebody who truly understood what a ship was. It was a way to get away from the desert, from the worries and pressures of the world, if only for a little while.

Luke spoke up again. “Though I’ve got to say, it’s pretty wild to see someone from Pasher here. I know that most pilots here are from the Inner Rim or the Core, but I was expecting them to all be well-heeled and fancy. Good schools and trying to make daddy proud kind of thing”.

Nakari smiled at that. “Oh I’m still well-heeled and fancy, but my daddy isn’t proud of my career trajectory”. 

Seeing Luke’s questioning glance, she explained, “My father is Fayet Kelen, owner of Kelen bio labs. Usually TIE pilots aren’t set to inherit anything, even the ones from good families. But my father always wanted me to take over the family business. But that’s not my field. I prefer shooting rebels to dissecting animals”.

Despite that white lie usually doing the trick, Nakari could see a brief flash of something pass over Luke’s face, followed by fresh doubt.

“Really? I don’t want to pry, but I get the sense that you’re not very squeamish. Feels like you have more reason to be here, more than wanderlust or not liking biology”.

Nakari stared silently, as it was disconcerting to be read so easily. It wasn’t that she was trying to hide why she was here, but it felt uncomfortable to explain it to a stranger. In fact, it was almost dangerous to explain it.

“Well, to tell the truth you’re not wrong,” she said carefully, “I’m here for more than just that. Starting out as a TIE pilot is the best way to get the experience to become an Admiral. From there, you can jump your way up to becoming a Grand Admiral if you try hard enough. Maybe even a Moff if you’re lucky”. 

Luke let out a whistle. “Now that’s some serious ambition, I’ve got to respect that. You really do love shooting for the stars, huh?”

Nakari was relieved that he at least took that at face value. In her heart of hearts, the reason that she joined the TIE program instead of living a life of comfort and plenty, was that she hated the Empire. Truly hated it. Emperor Palpatine and the Moffs always kept the rich happy and well-fed, but that didn’t stop Nakari from seeing the destruction and horror that they unleashed upon the galaxy. But instead of accepting it, she chose to fix it as best she could. 

“What about you then, farm boy? Do you have any goals other than flying fast and blowing things up? I mean I love that just as much as the next person, but there’s got to be a bit more to life, right?”

Luke snorted. “Nah not me, I’m happy blowing things up. I get to do my favourite thing in the galaxy, and I’m even getting paid for it. I think. I haven’t got a paycheque yet. Still, although my life expectancy is measured in hours instead of decades, at least I’m warm and dry. There‘s not much more a Skywalk- I mean a Whitesun can ask for”. 

Nakari frowned at that. Deciding to ignore the weird name mix up, she focused on the larger sentiment. “Well that’s not very exciting. It’s especially not very ambitious. I get that you’re a good pilot, but it seems like a bit of a waste to just resign to living fast and dying young. TIE pilots aren’t known for making it to retirement you know”.

Luke roughly shrugged. He looked away, seeming to wrestle with a difficult thought. Suddenly he stared right into Nakari’s eyes, and seemed to weigh up how much he could trust this stranger. Strangely, Nakari could feel him looking into her, and almost felt like if she stared back into his eyes, she’d see her own past and future reflected there.

Seemingly making up his mind, Luke steeled himself and nodded. “Well, to be honest, I’m afraid of rising the ranks. Sure, right now I’m in pretty grave danger, and I don’t have a choice on who I do or don’t fire on. But at least I don’t have to make that decision for others, you know?”

Lowering his voice, Luke continued. “The Empire’s always picking fights with people who don’t deserve it, and if I get to be a Captain, or Sith hells an Admiral, I’d be the one ordering folks to fire on those people. I don’t think I could make that choice, and I definitely couldn’t force others to do it”.

Nakari was shocked. For many Admirals, simply questioning orders was paramount to treason. To outright claim that said orders are unjust, and furthermore to say the Empire itself was unjust, was enough to get someone killed. Luke was putting a frankly suicidal amount of trust in a stranger.. If Nakari was a good citizen of the Empire she’d report him. If she was a good soldier she’d shoot him down immediately. But Nakari was neither. Or at least, she was the same as Luke.

Leaning in closer, Nakari started whispering too. “I feel the same way. My whole life I’ve been watching the Empire take things from people. Their possessions. Their cultural identity. Their freedoms. My father felt that if we buried our heads in the sand, and kept turning all our research over to them they’d leave us alone. But I know that’s not true. Not only can we not just stand by and not help whilst the Empire ravages the galaxy, but eventually they’ll come for us too. And there will be nobody to stop them”.

An overwhelming feeling of relief surged through her body, as Nakari finally told the truth, for the first time since she’d joined the Empire's youth core at thirteen, nearly five standard years ago.

Luke let out a soft laugh and a sardonic smile. “Now you’re starting to sound like a rebel.” Before Nakari could panic, he continued. “Guess that makes us both Imperial rebels. But if you feel that strongly, and you had the option, why not join the rebellion?”

Now it was Nakari’s turn to laugh. “You’re kidding right? What good would that do? The rebellion’s a bunch of ragtag criminals, who’s only way of dealing with the Empire is stealing things and blowing things up. There’s no way they ever actually take the Empire down. Even if they did, what then? Do they think they’ll just suddenly take over all the Empire’s bureaucracy? No kriffing way. The whole Empire would splinter into small pieces, each led by a war lord who fancies themselves an Emperor”.

Pausing for breath, Nakari could see Luke listening to her with rapt attention. The same fire that burned in her clearly burned in him too, even if it had been caked over with mud and blood.

“Say what you will about Palpatine,” she began, “but at least he overtook the Republic from the inside out. The rebellion won’t be able to do that if they destroy the Empire. It took around 25,000 years for the Republic to form. If the rebellion smash the Empire, they’ll have to start building that structure all over again, and conquer the galaxy with fire and blood. There’s no way they can win without starting wars that last at least another century”.

Luke seemed to be looking at her in a whole new light, and Nakari paused her rant when he opened his mouth to tentatively speak. 

“So you’re planning to do a Palpatine, and rise your way to the top?” he asked.

Nakari couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know if I’d describe it as ‘doing a Palpatine’, but yes. I’m aiming to rise up the ranks of the Empire, and change it from the inside out. It will take a long time, and I know I’d have to do some morally questionable things, but change necessitates that”.

Luke seems to be filled with an equal vigour to Nakari, who felt more energised than ever before, having finally stated her motivations out loud.

“That’s… really admirable.” he began, “Honestly? That seems like the best thing we could do. I’ve kind of resigned myself to how the Empire works. But the idea of actually changing it for the better. That sounds like something I’d want to do”.

Nakari couldn't help the joy bursting through her. There was always the worry that Luke could be an ISB plant trying to sniff out treason, but something in him just called her to trust him. It had always been isolating to keep this secret, especially around so many Imperial patriots who worshipped the ground Palpatine walked on. The idea that she had someone not only to talk to about her ambitions, but actually work towards her goals with, was all she’d ever wanted.

“Well then,” Nakari said, raising a glass from the dining table, "Originally I came over here to ask you to pair up on our next flight. But.. if you’re willing to work your way up with me, we could partner up with that too”.

Luke smiled at that, with a passionate hope burning in his eyes. Raising his glass too, he clinked his it against hers.

“Partners?” He asked.

“Yeah, partners. Here’s to a better Empire.”

Drinking from their glasses together, Nakari was already planning out their next steps. Whilst he was a good pilot, he didn’t have much of an education. Luckily, the TIE program offered education holos to improve the pilots’ skills related to the internal politics of the Empire, amongst other courses. This was because many pilots ardently hoped to rise the ranks and serve the Empire. Little did they know, that two unknown pilots would now be using those courses to change the Empire instead of serving it.

As she was discussing which courses he’d need to take and what she could teach him, a klaxon began blaring throughout the dining hall. The pilots were being called to their TIEs.

As Nakari and Luke rose and began sprinting towards where their TIEs were stationed, Nakari couldn’t help but think that this was a monumentous occasion. She truly sensed that together, they could make a difference. Maybe the new guy would make it after all. 

Chapter Text

Heeled boots moved at a brisk pace, footsteps echoing behind them. This was strangely one of the most novel things about living on a Star Destroyer, at least in Luke’s experience. The jaw dropping visuals from the viewports and the feeling of untethered freedom paled in comparison to making audible footsteps that didn’t squelch with mud or crunch with sand.

Looking at the time displayed on his datapad Luke increased his pace, borderline sprinting through the halls of the spaceship. He would happily start running towards his objective, if doing so wouldn’t meet with swift retribution. Admiral Langstrom, the officer in charge of this particular Star Destroyer, was a classic authoritarian control freak, who frequently reviewed the ship's internal security footage to catch any crew member breaking his stringent rules. Luke and Nakari had transferred to this Star Destroyer a few standard months back. Whilst there was little camaraderie between the troops, and a self-styled feudal lord for a commanding officer, it offered far more options than most ships in terms of education.

Speaking of his education, Luke glanced down again at his datapad. Nakari and himself had applied to an advanced course on cultural greetings amongst alien races and he was currently running late to his next class on the subject. Very late. In fact he’d be lucky if he saw any of the holoprojected lectures at all. Tearing his way around a corner of the maze-like corridors in the Star Destroyer, Luke saw a mouse droid scurrying along the floor. Before he could react, his foot made contact with the miniscule droid, and as a result he crashed to the ground in a heap. As he made painful contact with the durasteel ground, his datapad flew out of his hand and scattered across the floor. 

Letting out a high-pitched electronic squeal, the mouse droid began to scamper away, surely to report him to Admiral Langstrom. But before Luke could begin catastrophising about what punishment he’d meet at the hands of the callous officer, the mouse droid was lifted from the floor.

“Aww, what’s the matter little guy? Did the big bad, stupidly clumsy pilot trod on you? You poor wee angel”. A sardonic voice rang out. Luke peered upwards, to see Nakari cradling the startled droid. 

“Let’s see what damage he’s done.” She said, dextrous fingers pulling back the droid’s control panels. The droid squealed once again at the movement. 

Rising to his feet, Luke felt a blush begin to burn its way across his features. “I didn't see it when I came round the corner. I was just trying to get to the lecture-”

“I realise you have anger management problems as well as time management problems, farm boy, but you shouldn't take it out on innocent droids.” Nakari interrupted. 

The wheels of the droid whirred furiously, as the tiny droid attempted to get away from the human that was erasing his memory. 

“We don’t want you remembering such a traumatic incident, do we little guy? Best to erase that before it starts to haunt you”.

A series of electronic beeps began to loudly sound from the droid, before abruptly cutting off. After successfully removing any incriminating memories from the droid's processors, Nakari reattached the control panel and let the droid go on its way. Dusting off her hands, Nakari again turned to Luke, who was still blushing. 

“Look, I know that I was late, but it wasn’t my fault! You know that Langstrom-“

Again Nakari interrupted “Oh don’t worry about it,” she began “I know how these things get. Hey, quick question. If you take the area under the curve of sine squared from 0 to pi, then add the sum of the first three positive integers, then finally divide the whole thing by the cube root of 27, what is the result?”

Luke just stared at her, floored. Whilst Nakari was certainly smarter than him, especially when it came to wrapping her head around the minutia of intergalactic economics, that level of mathematics seemed out of even her reach.

“Uhh.. how about you say that again, in basic please?” Luke flashed her his most winning smile, but she still just stared at him.

“You know, like they say in holodramas.” he explained awkwardly, “Like one character will say something smart, and the other character will be like ‘uhh in basic please?’, because the audience won’t understand it… you know?” 

Nakari continued to stare at him, trying to be serious, but the corners of her mouth were moving up, amused. “Well, if you’d actually gone to today’s lecture, you’d know the answer is three”.

“Seriously?” Luke asked, “How is that related to cultural greetings?”

“The Givin,” Nakari explained, “communicate with mathematics. So they’ll ask someone a maths question as a greeting. Fortunately they know we’re not as smart as them when it comes to numbers, so the answer will always be three”. 

Before Luke could question her further, Nakari spun away. “I’m famished from all that learning that I did alone. How about we get some noodles and nerf nuggets from the dining hall?” Not waiting for an answer, Nakari briskly strode away.

Luke had to move quickly to catch up, nearly jogging to keep up with her longer strides. “Come on Nakari, I know you’re not mad about me being late. That happens far too often for you to be mad about it. It’s way too endearing.” 

Nakari levelled an unimpressed eyebrow at him, “That’s one word for it, farm boy”.

“This is about the other day isn’t it?” Luke surmised, “I know that you don’t think I should’ve spared him, but I just couldn’t gun him down like that”. 

Nakari slowed down, the conversation apparently reaching where she wanted it too. “Spared him? Is that what we’re calling it? You let an enemy combatant just fly away and escape. You risked the whole mission, and both of our lives, to avoid shooting an enemy. In a war”.

This had been a point of friction between the two of them for some time. A few standard days ago, their Star Destroyer and its escorting ships had come across an entire fleet of pirates. Scrambling to action, Nakari and Luke had distinguished themselves as the best TIE pilots in the fray, blasting away scores of pirates. The problem came at the end of the fight, when instead of shooting at the fleeing combatants as he was told to, Luke instead had let them fly away.

Nakari, and the rest of the crew on the Destroyer, had taken exception to that. “Being a good person is all well and good, but we both know that acting that way won’t keep you alive for long. And it certainly won’t help you rise the ranks”.

Walking into the expansive dining hall and approaching the food line, Luke and Nakari joined the queue of soldiers all waiting for a subpar meal. Lowering his voice to avoid drawing attention, Luke continued.

“But what’s the point of surviving if you’re not living your life, trying to be decent. And what’s the point of rising the ranks if we have to sacrifice all our morals? Isn’t the whole reason we’re doing this is to make everything better? If we become like everyone else, nothing will change!”

“I’m not saying we have to become power-hungry sociopaths, like every other Admiral in this joint.” Nakari rebuked quietly, “I’m just saying that if you put high minded morality ahead of everything else in the galaxy, you won’t actually get to help anyone. Because you’ll be dead”.

Nakari’s eyes began to lose some of their fire, and were instead beginning to fill with nostalgia. “You know, my father always said, ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves. Meaning that being ruthless, and making the hard choices, allows you not only to survive, but to make the most of all your talents”.

“You mean your father, the soulless capitalist who made his fortune experimenting on indigenous fauna for all their secrets, thus destroying local ecosystems?” Luke rebuked.

The fire instantly returned to Nakari’s eyes, as he knew it would. Her relationship with the man was complicated, as most were in Luke’s experience. The man had dragged himself up from nothing, and had provided a stable and prosperous life for his family. But he had also allowed ruthlessness to rule him. Was success worth that, Luke wondered?

Finally at the front of the line, the two quarrelling soldiers grabbed their rehydrated noodles and moved towards their table in the dining hall. Whilst it wasn’t technically theirs, Luke had carved their initials into the underside of the table while Nakari kept watch, so it was essentially theirs. Sitting down, they got back to quarrelling.

“Well think about it this way. That guy was a pirate, right? Do you think having a run in with the Empire will have changed him for the better? Do you think he’ll have an epiphany and change his ways? Kriff no! He’s probably out there right now, pirating around and hurting innocent people. I’m not saying it’s your fault of course, just that if you’d dealt with him then, you’d be saving people now”.

Luke couldn’t rebuke that, not just because he didn’t have any comeback to her logic, but also because his mouth was stuffed like a chipmunk, but with noodles. 

Seeing the conflict shining in his eyes, Nakari softened. “Luke, I really respect that you so stringently stick to your morals. The fact that, even in the heat of the moment, you won’t hurt someone you don’t think deserves it? Well, it's one of the things I love- I mean I like about you”.

Luke couldn’t help the surge of joy that raced through his body at that. Whilst she was addressing a perceived flaw in his character, her vocal stumble still sent his heart racing. They’d been friends for nearly six standard months, but still these little moments meant the world to him. Of course, he’d never pursue anything with her. Their friendship was the only thing left in the whole galaxy that he had, and he’d never do anything to endanger that. Still, he couldn’t help but sense that she felt the same way as him. If only. 

Deciding not to comment on her stumble, if only to try and prevent her from doing the same to him when he invariably did the same, Luke sighed. “I just don’t think I’m the kind of person that can make those sorts of choices. I’m just not wired up that way, no Skywalker is. I mean Whitesun.” 

Thankfully, Nakari didn’t comment on that. They both knew where each other's open wounds were, and made sure not to poke them. “Well here’s another little nugget of wisdom, " Nakari said, “You’ve got to kill the person you were born to be in order to become the person you want to be. That was something my mother used to say. It wasn’t just my dad who built Kelen Biolabs, but my mother too. She was born very poor, and with no real prospects. She always swore that no matter what, she’d never be in a situation like that again”.

Nakari’s mother was one of her emotional wounds, so Luke was shocked she was being this open about her. He could see nostalgia intermingling with a painful emotion in Nakari’s eyes. “Huh. That’s not bad advice I’ve got to say. Pretty accurate as well. I mean look at us, a rugged handsome farm boy with great arms and a spoiled trust fund kid. Guess we really are becoming who we want to be. Me less so, because I was already pretty perfect already”.

Nakari seemed to appreciate his attempt to change the conversation away from whatever emotion was causing her distress, and she visibly decided to relent from her grudge.

“You’d think such a perfect farm boy would be better at being on time.” Nakari said, her earlier seriousness gone, “What’s your excuse this time?”

“I was just, busy”. Luke said awkwardly, regretting that he had changed the topic of conversation. “Loquaciosness, thy name is Whitesun.” Nakari said, around a mouthful of noodles. “Seriously, what was it? We can’t have a conversation about my mommy issues AND my daddy issues for you to get all shy now”.

“Well I was just hiding under my bed covers. I was,” Luke peered around, checking if anyone was in earshot, "trying to do magic”. 

“If that’s code for what I think it means, then how about we go ahead and not talk about this”. Nakari said semi-seriously. 

“No not that!” Luke loudly exclaimed, blushing furiously, “I mean like actual magic. Like, I think I’m a wizard or something”.

Nakari just stared at him. “Welp, I knew this wasn’t going to last. Either you’re having a stroke or you’ve lost your mind. Either way, how about we go for a stroll to the medical centre buddy”. She said condescendingly, putting her hand on his arm, and steering him towards the med bay. 

Luke brushed her hand off, ignoring the thrill it sent through him. “No, I'm serious. I mean, have you never questioned how I’m able to shoot down so many targets. I’ve been flying for less than half the time you have, and I’m already far better. I mean way better. Like insulting better. It’s the same way I can predict what the other pilots will do, and what the Admiral will say next. It’s how I survived Mimban. And Tatooine. I’m magic. I think”.

Nakari gave him a measuring look. “Alright, I’ll bite. I’ll also ignore that little crack about being a better pilot than me, because I’m way more mature and you’re a big dumb short little baby boy. If you really are magic, what number am I thinking of”.

“It doesn’t work that way, and that’s the kriffing problem”. Luke began to let loose the frustration that had been mounting for weeks. “It only works when I’m being shot at, or yelled at. It works great in combat, but if I can’t use it the rest of the time, then that means I can only fight reactively. Sometimes I can do insane things, like one time I nearly lifted an entire TIE Striker. But last night, I couldn’t even lift one of my socks under the covers. It’s driving me crazy!”

Nakari continued to stare at him. “Alright, if this really is happening to you, which I’m pretty sure its not-” 

“Thank you, supportive”, Luke interrupted, dryly.

“Let’s try and figure it out”. Nakari continued, ignoring his interruption. “Is it only being shot at? Does it only ‘turn on’ when you’re being fired at? Because I can point my blaster at you if that helps”. Luke smiled at that.

“No, I don't think it's just being shot at. It’s more so when I'm in active danger. Even when Langstrom is threatening me I can feel it tingling under my skin”.

“Alrigh then. Is it only when Langstrom threatens to throw you out the airlock, or is it any threat”, Luke had never considered that.

“I suppose whenever really. For him, it’s less the threat than it is the anger it causes me. I swear, even my old Commander Barnes couldn't get me that angry”. 

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Nakari was building up speed, as she always did when confronted with a problem. “So it’s related to being angry. Is it just anger, or is it any emotion?”

Luke considered that. “I’m not really sure. I suppose any emotion really. Back on Mimban anger and fear usually got the job done. But any emotion would make it work. I suppose that it was the ‘bigger’ emotions, like fear and anger, that made it work better. But even ones like grief or regret would work. I mean, Barnes dying made me stronger than I’d ever been”.

“Okay...” Nakari said, dragging the word out. “Again, that's a bit concerning for your mental health, but alright. So let’s say that emotion drives your power, and the more intense it is, the better it works. Time to test how that plays out”. Pulling a noodle out of her cheap cardboard container, Nakari laid it on the table. “Move the noodle”. She said, seriously, although clearly amused and skeptical. 

“I already told you, I couldn’t even move a sock this morning. How is this any different?” Luke said, worried that his failure would just assure Nakari that he’d gone mad. 

“Ah, but you underestimate me,” Nakari said happily, “this time, I’ll be watching the noodle. You just close your eyes, and focus on feeling emotions and using this magic of yours. I’ve seen you when you’re taking your exams on our course. You always end up freaking yourself out trying to perform, and end up losing concentration. It’s adorable, like an overeager puppy”.

Bristling at being compared to a dog, Luke gazed down at the noodle. The food item sat there, mocking him, like a sun bleached worm. “Well if that’s the case I won’t be able to do it with you watching me. A watched pot never boils and all that”. At that, Nakari began loudly slurping up her remaining noodles, ignoring any attention it gained her.

“Oh I don’t know about all that, I’m just enjoying my noodles, pretty disgustingly to be honest. I’m just paying attention to these weird little noodle on the table. No judgement here”.  

Rolling his eyes, Luke decided that she was right. In the past whenever he tried to call on his power, he would concentrate more on what he was doing than how he was doing it. Trying to move things with your mind was an exercise in futility if you could not stoke the power which allowed the impossible to happen.

Closing his eyes, Luke peered inwards. As he had so many times before, he gazed at the furnace of his heart. With that mental image in mind, he began to focus on his emotions. He could feel the usual anger that had dogged his footsteps since Tatooine. He could feel his ever present fear radiating through his body, the fear of a farm boy out of his depth. Ambition radiated through his being as well, inspired and guided by his and Nakari’s shared dream. Speaking of Nakari, he could feel his passionate feelings for her stirring in his body; their friendship and loyalty blooming in his chest.

Shovelling these feelings into his heart like coals into a furnace, allowed his power to begin to flare to life. The more emotion he poured into his furnace and the hotter his passions burned, the more his power began to emerge. He could feel the mystical energies begin to stir around him, becoming thicker the more intensely his forge burned. As his power began to radiate inside him, he now turned his mind outwards. He could sense the ship surrounding him, feeling the miles of durasteel floating in the vacuum. He could feel the shields projected outwards, and the guns bristling with menace that lined the Destroyer. Winnowing down his attention to his immediate surroundings, he could sense Nakari sitting before him, watching him carefully. Between them, he could sense the accursed noddle. Stretching out with his feelings, he focused his power on the food stuff. With an effort of will, he mentally demanded that it move. Grasping a mental hand over the noodle, he dragged it away from him, slowly across the table.

“Dank Ferick! I can’t kriffing believe it!” That shout snapped Luke’s concentration, and he was abruptly transported back into his physical body. Opening his eyes, Luke could see Nakari staring at him in overwhelming astonishment, a bright smile lighting up her features. 

“That was incredible! It just scooted right across the table like a tiny little snake.” She exclaimed, “You really are magic! Way to go, you little noodle scooter!” Peering down at the table, Luke could see the slimy trail that the noodle had left in its wake. It was as Nakari had said, the noodle must have slithered its way across the desk. A bright grin erupted on his face.

Luke let out a loud whoop of joy, drawing the attention of many crew members, but he was beyond caring. This was proof that not only was he not crazy, but that he could finally use his power on command. Now he didn’t have to rely on the threat of death to utilise his mystical abilities.

Nakari was excitedly listing all the different tests that they’d have to carry out, to try and establish a more reliable way to call forth the power, and to find out if there was an upper limit to the things he could do. As she began an intense interrogation on what feats he had accomplished in the past and how they could recreate them, Luke couldn’t help but smile.

Things were finally looking up. 

Chapter Text

A small grin emerged on Luke’s face, as his loyal troops won their most bloody battle yet. It had taken thousands of lives, cooperation between all Imperial forces, and no small amount of daring, but the Empire had won the day. Of course this was all in an advanced real-time strategy simulation he was playing on his datapad, but the result was the same. Mostly. Besides flying, shooting, and exploring, this had quickly become one of his favourite ways to pass the time on the Star Destroyer. The Empire had access to the records of thousands of battles, both during the Clone Wars and from the early days of the Empire. This allowed for simulated battles to be played at one’s leisure, which strengthened one’s military acumen. Luke had believed, before his foray into simulated combat, that he knew most everything about strategy, both in space and planetside. However now he knew that any battle played out in two realms; frenetic front line combat and the cold and calculating strategy from a distance. So now, whenever he wasn’t working on his ship or talking to Nakari, he was directing battles long past and learning from the old commander’s mistakes.

Thinking of Nakari, Luke looked over to where she lay sleeping on the seat beside him; her curled hair splayed out on their shared armrest. They had been in transit for a standard day, and they were both going stir crazy. The unfortunate aspect of being an ace pilot was that you couldn’t trust anyone else to fly a ship but yourself, resulting in the two of them being an anxious mess. The reason why they were the unhappy passengers of this transport ship, an old pre-war starliner, was because they had both gotten a temporary placement in the auspicious Theed University diplomacy course. Their previous courses had been pre-recorded holovids, but as a result of their drive and exemplary service, they had earned themselves a break from army life, and the chance to live on one of the Empire’s most beautiful worlds. Luke could barely contain his excitement, elated by the thought of stepping foot on a planet other than Mimban or Tatooine. Nakari had frequently complained throughout their trip that his excitement left him like an over-eager nerf: bouncing off the walls.

Luke, as always, was incredibly grateful to Nakri for inspiring him to seize these opportunities. Before he had met her he would have kept his head down and made peace with the, admittedly exciting, life of being a soldier. But thanks to her influence, his ambition had been lit like a raging bonfire, and he was now driven to push them both forward. He liked to think that he brought more to their partnership than just his piloting skills, and that they both encouraged each other to be their best and most effective selves. 

Said encouragement was currently drooling on Luke’s arm, where she had slowly shifted off the arm rest and had started encroaching on his seat. Resolutely ignoring the impulse to stroke her hair, Luke gently jostled her, knowing that they were soon arriving at their destination. As always, Nakari didn’t take getting woken up well, rising up and immediately glaring at Luke. However, the viscous glare was undercut by the light blush on her features. Luke couldn’t help but smirk at that. He was usually the one getting embarrassed after all. However, before he could comment on her using him as a human pillow, she spoke up.

“I’m surprised I actually slept during this. With how shoddy the take off was, I was expecting to be white knuckling the seat the entire flight. I guess that last round must’ve actually tired me out. Didn’t know you had it in you”. Nakari said jokingly. 

“I still say that I won”. Luke said, not rising to the bait, and knowing that it would invite a lightly hearted argument. As always, he was happy when it did. 

“Well I definitely wouldn’t say that,” Nakari said, with mock outrage. “Sure you had the final pin, but I got way more hits in. Any judge in their right mind would know I had the better display, farm boy”.

“Ugh don’t remind me about the hits, the kriffing bruises are still healing. It’s a miracle I sat so still throughout the flight. At least I was still enough for you to slobber on me like a rabid Massiff”. Luke said, jokingly wiping off his arm. 

Nakri’s blush deepened, with her dark features beginning to burn her cheeks. Luke was tempted to make a joke about cooking rations on her face. Again, before he could joke at her expense, she spoke up again. Seemingly, she had developed her own sixth sense, this one for his teasing. 

“Oh please, that whole last round you were rolling around like a mewling Ewok. If you want to get better at Teras Kasi, you really need to start working on your strength. I mean let’s face it, you already don’t have the leverage you need, short arse”.

Long used to teasing about his height, Luke responded immediately, “Doesn’t matter how close to the ground it is, we all know I’ve got the best arse in the galaxy”.

What Nakari was referring to was their training together in the martial art form Teras Kasi. This deadly artform was developed by the Ichani fighters, and made the practitioner an incredibly lethal unarmed fighter. In fact, the art was so dangerous that the teaching of it was heavily restricted, with many species and sects being banned from its’ practice. Fortunately Nakari’s rich father had so much money, and enough of a protective streak, that he had her trained in the esoteric artform for years before joining the Imperial academy. Nakari’s teacher, Arden Lyn, had taught her all she knew, and Nakari had taught all of that to Luke.

Before Nakari could retort to Luke’s attempt at being cute, the starliner dropped out of hyper space, and began its ponderous descent towards the planet. Nakari tried to continue the conversation, but Luke could barely hear her. Outside the viewpoint, Luke could see the planet drawing ever nearer. As he stared, he belatedly realised that tears were pouring down his cheeks. 

“Uhh, you feeling ok farm boy?” Nakri asked, trying to sound lighthearted but unable to hide the concern in her voice.

“Yeah I’m good,” Luke replied, wiping away the tears, “I just had a weird feeling”. Staring down at the sapphire and emerald jewel of a planet, Luke elaborated. “I just didn’t know there was that much green in the whole galaxy”.

At that, Nakari smiled. “Yeah, this must be your first time seeing a planet close up that isn’t pure sand or pure mud. I think I felt the same time I first left Pasher. Like the galaxy was so much bigger, and much more beautiful than I’d ever thought”.

“Yeah, that.” Luke said eloquently. “But even more. It feels like, like I’m coming home”. 

“So as you all are well aware, Naboo is the home planet of our majestic Emperor, with his political education coming from the very same University that you are now attending. This means that the greatness of our Empire is reflected in Theed, where it got its roots”.

Nakari and Luke shared a look at that. They were both well aware of the true face of the Empire, and thus their tour guide was accidentally making a strong case against Naboo. But in truth, the rampant xenophobia that plagued the Empire was reflected in the Naboo’s treatment of the native Gungans, so perhaps their guide was closer to the truth than she realised.

Heedless of their uncharitable thoughts, the peppy tour guide that the university had provided continued. “Residing in the heart of the Chommel sector, Naboo is one of the foremost worlds in the galaxy in terms of artistic expression, astronomic understanding, and cultural identity. But beyond our contributions to the galaxy, Naboo also stands out in regards to its geology. With an unusual plasma core, Naboo has become one of the leading traders in plasma. Ever since the Empire rose and did away with the corruption of the Republic and the power of the Trade Federation, which took advantage of Naboo, our profits have risen to an all time high”.

Their guide had led them throughout the historic city of Theed, explaining the history of their beautiful architecture and fashion. Now, hours later, she was finally getting into the basics of Naboo. Luke supposed that a more diligent student would probably care about this new information, but Luke was not one of them. He could appreciate art, and was a huge proponent of Imperial worlds retaining their cultural heritage, but by the stars, would this guide never shut up? She had been talking for hours. Nakari seemed to feel the same, as she was standing to the side of the group and making shadow puppets in the glare of the young sun. 

Returning his focus to the tour guide, he blearily realised that she had once again circled back to Naboo architecture. “The Naboo see our architectural pursuits as further adornments to our planets’ beauty. As a result, we have pioneered the rounded roofs and sloped columns that you see before you. This allows the Naboo to cause as little damage to our world as we possibly can”.

“Well, that’s not entirely accurate, is it?” Nakari asked. Luke could see mischief dancing in her brown eyes, and he knew that it would result in him in trouble, as it had so many times before. “If the Naboo truly wanted to leave the planet as it was, they wouldn’t have forced the Gungans into their underwater cities, and given them none of the profits of the planet’s plasma”.

Luke couldn’t help but snort at that. It was a fair point. Whilst the Gungans seemed happy living underwater, you couldn't deny that they had been forced to live there by the settlers of Naboo. You could wax poetic about intellectual pursuits and appreciation of nature’s beauty all day, but when a species were forced to live as second class citizens, it rather took the wind from the sails of your argument.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” the tour guide said, narrowing her eyes at the two interlopers. “Emperor Palpatine himself has endorsed Naboo as a shining example to the rest of the Empire. Surely you aren’t suggesting that you know better than him?” Not waiting for them to respond, the guide restarted the tour, delving again into the architecture of Naboo.

“I can’t see why you’re going to school for diplomacy,” Luke whispered, "you're so talented at making friends.”

The tour continued, with Luke having to routinely stop Nakri from interjecting. Knowing her, it was less from principle than from her trying for some entertainment. Fortunately, they had just arrived at the first point on their tour that attracted their attention. 

“And this is the royal starship hangar. Thanks to our great Empire providing us all the protection we need, the Naboo starship production lines are no longer needed. Nevertheless, we still retain many of our old ships. Naboo ships are handmade, with a beautiful royal chromium. In addition to having notably low harmful emissions, the ships are…”

Luke once again tuned out the guide, staring in awe at the ships. Whilst he would be interested in learning their specifications, Luke had always found that you could only get to know a ship by touching it, and feeling its power. Nakari said he had a latent fetish for ships, but he liked to think he was just a tactile being. 

Slowly backing away from the tour group, Luke snuck towards the ships, and began to run his hands over their chromium finish. All of the ships were calling to him, but in particular the N-1 starfighters, and the old royal starships were drawing his fancy. Getting as close as he could, Luke was valiantly avoiding jumping into the cockpit. 

“Getting your rocks off to ships again huh?” Nakari asked, sauntering up beside him, “I always knew there was something wrong with you”.

“Shut up Nakri,” Luke mumbled, rubbing his cheek against the ship, “I don’t judge you for your addiction to nerf nuggets and you don’t judge me for this”.

At that Nakari laughed, before continuing. “But really, I haven’t seen you get this worked up over a ship since we saw those specs for the TIE Avengers. That was the happiest I've ever seen you until now”.

“Just look at them! Can’t you hear them calling to you?” Luke asked, still in rapture.

“No, not at all,” Nakari chuckled, “the only ship that’s ever called to me is the Desert Jewel back home. I swear that someday, somehow she will be mine”. A favourite of her father’s, the Desert Jewel was a ship that Nakari had once flown back home, and had immediately become enamoured with. It wasn’t often Luke found himself jealous of a ship, but here they were.

“What in the stars are you doing?!!” A voice rang out, belonging to the now shrill tour guide. “How hard is it not to touch something in a  museum? Really, I’ll have to call security down to deal with this gross injunction of-”

Before she could continue, Luke and Nakari had taken off running in a random direction. Laughing as they ran, they tried their best to lose themselves in the hall's cavernous rooms. This was what exploring a planet should be, Luke thought, running around with no idea where you were, but enjoying the mystery and excitement regardless. Their mad dash had taken them into an old stone building with stained glass windows, with the figures displayed in the old art gazing down at them. Out of breath from running, Nakari lent on a low down sculpture in the middle of the room. “Well this is creepy. What do you suppose this is?” She huffed out. 

“I’m not sure,” Luke replied, “but from the way I’ve got a shiver running down my spine and you looking like you're about to vomit, I’d wager that it's a mausoleum or something”.

Nakari glared at him, lightly smacking his shoulder. “I’m guessing that the stained glass mural is what they looked like alive, and the thing you’re leaning on is what they look like dead”. Nakari yelped and leapt back from the stone sarcophagi, finally noticing the fact her perch was in fact a coffin.

“Again, this is creepy. Let’s get out of here. I’m sure that uptight tour guide has happily forgotten about us and gone back to torturing the other members with boring ‘fun facts’”.

Instead of replying, Luke just walked deeper, hearing Nakari curse in frustration behind him. The feeling that had called to him as they first approached Naboo was getting stronger here, and he felt like it couldn’t be ignored a moment longer. Walking past more and more sarcophagi, Luke realised that they must have been the resting places of the royalty of Naboo. Apparently the tour had been informative if he somehow remembered that. Feeling as though a string had been tied around his rib, Luke led the both of them further into the complex, until they came to a stop in front of the last of the memorials. 

Standing before it, Luke couldn’t help but feel like the planet had opened up around him. As with arriving at Naboo, Luke was utterly overcome with emotion, however now he was even beyond tears. Gazing up at the stained glass mural, Luke could see a young woman in full royal regalia staring down at him. Something in her expression, determined and hopeful and heartbroken and tragic. Tearing his eyes away from the powerful image he looked over the coffin. Nakari let out a low whistle. “That’s rough. Padme Amidala, young monarch and Senator. I heard some of her old recorded speeches. She was one hell of an orator, and seemed like a decent person too. Apparently she was pregnant when she went”.

Luke could make out writing on the side of the coffin, seeing the history of the woman spelled out in her final resting place. He couldn’t parse the feeling inside his chest. It was hollow and painful, but he also felt like a warm presence was enveloping him. It was a strange mix of hot and cold that he couldn’t begin to parse.

“Yeah,” Luke said roughly, “that is pretty rough.” Clearing his throat, Luke could see Nakari staring at him with concern. Before she could ask what was happening, he spoke up. “Let’s get out of here, I don’t feel like being ambushed by angry security guards in here”.

Tearing his eyes away from the depressing sight, he began to walk away. However, before they left the room, Nakari spoke up.  

“I remember where I heard about her now, more than just the speeches. She was one of the delegation of 2000, who stood up to Palpatine when he was rising to power. Talk about a role model, standing up for what she believed in, so that her children could live in a better galaxy than she had. That’s pretty beautiful”.

“No,” Luke said resolutely, “it’s sad”.

“No,” Nakari retorted, “it’s both. Things can be sad and beautiful, especially when you leave something behind you”.

Unable to respond, Luke walked out of the mausoleum, his feelings writhing in his chest. 

Months had passed since their exploration of Naboo’s royal catacombs, and Nakari felt like they were finally settling into life on Theed. They both knew that they had limited time at the prestigious university, so they spent all the time they could studying, attending lectures, or reading in Theed’s great library. But on days like this, when they both had no other commitments, they would spend some time exploring Theed, treating their university placement instead like an all expenses paid holiday. Today was one of those days, when the sun was high, the markets were busy, and Luke and Nakari were enjoying each other's company. 

Moments like this were becoming more frequent between the two of them, but still nothing was said. The Imperial military wasn’t exactly the place for romance. Still, if Nakari liked to think that she was good at reading people, and she was reading that Luke was interested in her. Well, she had to admit that Luke wasn’t particularly hard to read, as the somehow still wide-eyed farmboy wasn’t one to hide his affections. Last week for instance, he had gingerly taken hold of her hand as they walked between classes. Of course his hand had been sweating, his face had been bright red, and she could feel his pulse thrumming through his palm. Still, what he lacked in smoothness he made up for in enthusiasm.   

Looking over at him, Nakari could see Luke wander over to a small market area that surrounded a great marble fountain. Ignoring the cacophony of noises and smells surrounding him, Luke made a beeline for a certain stall, and Nakari couldn’t help rolling her eyes. This market, at the heart of Theed had been a favourite of theirs throughout their time on the planet, but Luke still couldn’t resist this particular stall. Walking over, Nakari could see Luke excitedly chatting with the Duros store clerk. Theed had become a multi cultural hub of the galaxy, despite the planet's unfortunate history with the native Gungans. Nakari would like to say that it was evidence of the Empire's stimulating effect on the galactic economy. However, if she was honest with herself, she would call it the Empires’ forced displacement of native species increasing the amounts of refugees across the galaxy. 

Regardless, by the time Nakari approached the shoddy shop front, Luke was rushing towards her with a beaming grin and a pair of frozen popsicles. Again, Nakari fondly rolled her eyes. 

“You’re never going to get sick of these things, are you?” She asked, taking the offered popsicle.

“Are you kidding me?” Luke responded, outraged, “it’s a frozen cylinder of fruit juice. How does that not blow your mind!”

Nakari laughed. “You’ve been off Tatooine for 3 years. By 17 you should be used to the idea of ice, Luke”.

“I’ll never get used to the idea of being able to freeze something, and just doing it so that drinking fruit juice is more fun. I mean that’s the absolute height of decadence!”

“Well then, how about we walk around the market while we experience this decadence. Because I don’t want you eating that so fast you end up getting a brain freeze. Again. For the twelfth time”.

Luke didn’t even try to deny that one, choosing instead to spin around, and begin strolling around the market stalls. One upside about market towns like this, that sprouted up as a result of transient beings, was that there was always something new to be found. 

Looking around, Nakari spotted one of these new stores. This one, a run down stall that seemed to have been assembled in a few minutes strangely seemed to grab her attention. Odd bits of glassware hung around the stall, with strange crystal balls sitting on the ground around it. 

Walking up to the strange storefront, Nakari looked over to the proprietor. It was a human, with a perfectly average appearance. Too average. He had one of those faces that, the second you took your eyes off him, he’d disappear forever. However, somehow he seemed to stand out from his market compatriots. Perhaps because he sat there with an entirely uninterested expression, seemingly indifferent to selling his wares. Nevertheless, as Nakari drew nearer, he glanced up at her, seeming to gaze right through her. 

“Well hello there, my young friend,” he said, a friendly demeanor despite still gazing beyond her. “Interested in my wares, are we?”

“Moreso I’m wondering what it is that you sell. I’ve never seen glassware that looks like this before”. Nakari said, hoping that she wouldn’t offend him. Fortunately, it didn’t seem she did, as his face split into a grin.

“Ah, well I don’t blame you for that, these are some very special bits of glassware. In fact, they have been made specifically for me, and aren’t actually for sale. It’s more of a service that I provide”.

Immediately assuming that a man in a run down market stall selling services was something she wasn’t interested in, Nakari began backing away slowly, remaining as polite as she could. The man laughed at that, seemingly unconcerned.

“Don’t worry kid, it’s not anything untoward. These beautiful pieces of art are my divination equipment. The name’s Gaunter O’Dimm, known as the man of glass. And I’m the man who knows all that was and will be”.

Since Nakari was an innately skeptical person, she had always assumed that fortune tellers were all liars and cheats. Still, her best friend could move things with his mind, so maybe she should be more accepting of the impossible. Before she could ask more, Gaunter held up his hand.

“I’m afraid that I can’t divine your future. Or moreso, I won’t. No point wasting energy on an ancillary character right? I mean we all know where this is leading. I’m waiting for someone who has a greater destiny ahead of them”.

Just as he said that, Luke approached behind Nakari making her jump. Judging by the red stains around his mouth, Nakari could guess that he’d once again bitten into the popsicle and spent the last few minutes with a brain freeze. 

Looking at the store Nakari had been standing at, Luke stared at Gaunter, confused. “Do I know you from somewhere? I’m usually pretty good at remembering faces but I can’t place yours”. Luke said, as sociable as ever. 

“Oh I’m sure we’ve bumped into each other at some point on our travels. The galaxy is a smaller place that you’d expect. Besides, my focus is less on the past, and more on the future. Would you like to know yours?”

Luke looked at Gaunter, skeptical of the offer. Perhaps he had finally started to listen to her about trusting strangers. Or people in general.

“Sorry, but I don’t really have the money for..”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Gaunter said, “this one’s on the house”. Before they could say anything, Gaunter's glassware seemed to glow, and he started talking in a low drone. 

“I see a song of past romance, I see the sacrifice of man

I see portrayals of betrayal and a father’s final stand

I see you on the brink of death, I see you draw your final breath

I see a man who gets to make it home alive, but it's no longer you”

All Luke and Nakari could do was stare at that. Usually, a fortune teller would say the basics, of finding your true love and unearthing a massive pile of credits. That fortune was beyond strange. Before they could respond, or in Nakari’s case, yell angrily at his strange little song, he held up his hands.

“If you have any complaints about your fortune, you should take it up with my mentor. She’s the real authority on divining the future. I’ve just been sent here to keep an eye on the shop while she’s, shall we say, indisposed?” Again, that strange comment had thrown both Nakari and Luke for a loop. Strange men claiming that they could divine the future was hardly unusual in the galaxy, but there was something about this one that made them both uncomfortable. Before Nakari could ask what in the Empire he was talking about, he again interrupted her. 

“Better get moving kids. Things are about to get ugly”. Pointing to his left, Nakari could see that he was pointing at a group of Stormtroopers that were approaching the market, gesturing angrily at people and waving their blasters around. That was hardly surprising. On every notable planet in the galaxy, some Imperial Moff would claim that there was rebel activity in the area and send a legion of Stormtroopers to repress the populace. Naboo was no different. Someone had claimed that they’d seen Saw Gerera's partisans, and now the whole planet was being policed by Stormtroopers.

Sharing a look, both students began to move away. They weren’t doing anything wrong, but they knew that the Empire may take exception to a pair of TIE pilots spending time in a refugee market. It was testament to how shaken up Luke was from his fortune that he didn’t say goodbye to Gaunter, or even complain about how Army Troopers are just as good as Stormtroopers. Leading him away from the market hand in hand, Nakari and Luke began to walk away, making sure that they kept an even pace so as not to draw attention to themselves. Seemingly just in the nick of time, as all of a sudden, the ground rumbled, the air was filled with fire and smoke, and an enormous explosion ripped its way through the market.

BOOM!