Chapter Text
LS-819–No, Luke, watched the ensuing destruction feeling entirely detached. He wasn’t sure how to feel if he was being honest. A number of emotions ran through his mind, things he thought he was going to feel. Elation, relief, fear. But instead, he felt separated from himself entirely. Almost as if he were standing in someone else’s shoes instead of his own.
Luke, who had to remind himself to start using that name again, felt the heat of the fire on his face as the TIE fighter he “borrowed” burned in the field he landed in. He wasn’t sure what his next step was. He was a little shocked he managed to get this far. But then again, nobody expected the Prince of the Empire to defect.
The Empire had probably noticed his absence by now and he was finding it a bit hard to care. He was tired. Beyond tired. His long time loyalties had wavered years ago as he grew to learn more and more about the symbol he served under. And along with that he was beginning to resent the sickly yellow of his eyes and the deadly red of his lightsaber.
But there was little that could be done about that, he mused apathetically. Nor could anything be done about the lives he had taken all in service of Palpatine. Not that he really felt any guilt over it. He used to. In the beginning. When his eyes were still…well, a color other than yellow. He was sure they were something different but now he couldn’t remember.
His thoughts strayed back to the plan. Or the lack thereof. He wasn’t really sure what he was going to do, where he was going to go, or what his life would be like from now on. He was just sure of two things and two things only.
One, he was done playing a good little soldier. Of always blindly following orders and helping to stoke the fire of the Emperor’s destruction. Not being allowed mistakes, emotions, or even a true name. Just a couple of letters and numbers.
Two, he was going to live. No more restrictions, storm troopers, jealous inquisitors, and bare white walls that suffocated him more with each passing day. No more denying himself the stars or the life that normal people led in the book he carried with him.
He had found it a year ago in a Jedi’s home. He was sent personally because this was rumored to be a special Jedi. He wasn’t sure what made him so important to Palpatine but he had to be dangerous if Luke was handpicked to track him down.
And track him down he did. Well, mostly. The house he had discovered to be the Jedi’s home was abandoned on some planet he couldn’t remember the name of. After years of tracking, hunting, and killing, all the places just blurred together. Not that there was ever a chance to take in the scenery when you’re a soldier. Just stepping off a ship with a squad of stormtroopers or inquisitors and destroying what you’re told too.
He did remember trees and how small the home was. Cozy in a way that he was unfamiliar with. He had walked in, yellow eyes searching for his prey, and instead found a cup of steaming tea left abandoned on the kitchen table. Right next to it was a book. Curious, he picked it up and for reasons still unknown to him he kept it. And hid it. From his superiors, fellow soldiers, and from the Emperor himself.
He never did find that Jedi, no matter how dedicatedly he searched for him, and was left with more than a couple of scars as a result. Nothing he wasn’t used to.
With the book in his possession he read about a life outside of the one he had lived with for the past fifteen years. Things he couldn’t even dream about experiencing. He wanted it. Craved it and was reckless and selfish enough to reach out and take it.
Goodbye LS-819 and hello, Luke…He’ll work on a last name.
He tore his eyes away from the destruction of the TIE fighter and took in his surroundings. He stood in a field with short yellowed grass and rolling hills. Above him was a sky awashed with colors of purple, pink, and fading ruminants of blue. The stars were going to come out soon and he couldn’t wait to see them.
He wasn’t sure what planet he was on. He just flew as far as he could, for as long as he could, until the fuel gauge told him he needed to land or he’d be stuck floating in space. He lucked out and happened to be near a world he was hoping was part of the outer rim. He was more likely to be caught and dragged back broken and half dead otherwise.
He didn’t see any trees but loads of boulders. And, with disappointment, no signs of life. He sighed and adjusted his bag that he normally used for long missions. Now it was meant to carry his entire life. A book, a couple of pairs of clothes, and some supplies for hygiene.
This was it. No going back.
He pulled his hood over head, turned on his heel, and marched forward. The crackling flames of the TIE fighter, a physical representation of the bridge he was setting aflame with his old life, grew softer the longer he walked until he couldn’t hear it at all.
Luke walked for a day and a half, give or take, before he found civilization. A village nestled in the valley of two hills that were large enough to be mistaken for mountains. Small but teeming with life. And quite a sight for sore eyes.
The houses were built into the hills themselves, almost stacked on top of each other with stone streets and stairways trickling down toward the heart of the village. A marketplace with vendors, booths, and beings of all sorts.
Luke lost count of how many different species he subtly spied while discreetly hiding his eyes knowing how well they would be received. While he wasn’t sure if he still counted as a Sith, he still had the eyes and saber of one.
And he must be on one hell of a lucky streak because out of all the different species and creeds, he noted that none of them wore stormtrooper gear.
He wandered a little bit, eyed some merchandise from different booths, before deciding that walking around and ogling everything wasn’t very productive. Plus, he was receiving some very suspicious looks and he understood why. He was wearing all black clothes, a hood that covered his face, a weapon hooked to his belt, and staring creepily at everyone and everything.
He ducked into the alleyway of a nearby building and pressed his back against the wall. He sighed and ducked his head. He ran his fingers over his short buzzed blonde hair without jostling the hood off of his head and wished he had come up with a solid plan.
He was so sure that once he got out of the Empire’s grip and disappeared that all the pieces would just come together. He was really good at thinking on his feet after all but nothing prepared him for well…reality. And the reality of the situation was that he was a Sith with more kills notched into his belt than the average person who’s only mostly socialized with superiors and fellow soldiers. And even then those interactions were tense and stiff. Generals respected and envied his position while soldiers feared him. And to both he was thought of as a monster. They never said it but he could see it in their eyes. Like he was going to lash out if they so much as squared their shoulders the wrong way.
He was never that cruel but there were…incidents. Times when he was pushed too far and the results varied from a few minor bruises to blood splattered on the wall. It all depended on the day, his mood, and whoever decided to severely underestimate him and his patience. He was a monster and he knew it. How could he possibly think he could lead a normal life and be just Luke?
No, no, no. None of that. He was done with that. He could think of something. He always does in a pinch. He just has to think.
He squeezed his eyes shut and he scoured his brain for something, anything, that could give him an idea on what to do.
They snapped open when the idea came to him. It was a long shot but it was better than wasting away in an alleyway while twiddling his thumbs.
He pushed off of the wall and walked through the crowds of people with purpose. His eyes scanned over the buildings and he searched until he finally found what he was looking for. A cantina named The Grinning Loth Cat.
“Loth cat,” He mouthed silently as he took in the aging sign, the boring tan painted walls, and frosted windows. The entrance sat at the bottom of concrete steps that twisted away from the street and down towards the sounds of music, laughter, and shouting.
He took a grounding deep breath and made his way into the cantina.
Despite a lack of evidence of the Empire even touching this quaint village, Luke was still on edge. And he felt it more than ever when he found himself taking in the familiar atmosphere of the establishment.
A universal truth and a useful tool to Siths who want information about the Jedi or rebels is that a bartender hears all. Getting that information however, was a different story. Some didn’t care and would willingly assist, some were scared shitless and cooperated purely out of fear for their lives, and others (the rare ones) outright refused while declaring their hatred for anything and all things Empire. Luke respected those the most even if he had to kill them for slander.
Thankfully he wasn’t here for that and for the fact that no one seemed to notice him. He wasn’t sure what he expected. Part of him thought that they would recognize him for who he was immediately and rip him to shreds. It never happened before but the worry was still there.
He weaved his way around the tables and kept his head down as he approached the bar. So far so good. Everyone was too wrapped up in their conversations, drinks, and gambling to notice him. Thank The Makers.
The bartender, a Chiss woman, noticed him immediately and turned her blood red eyes towards him. She eyed him warily before turning back to the customer she was pouring a drink for. Once she finished up she made her way over to Luke with a hesitancy in her aura. She tilted her head and her short dark blue hair flopped a little to the side, “What can I get for you, Stranger?”
“Nothing to drink,” Luke spoke quietly and leaned his elbows against the bar.
“So you’re here for what? The view?” She snorted and gestured to her drunk patrons, “Nothing pretty here to see unless you enjoy looking at bloodshot eyes. And take it from me,” She leaned in just a bit, “The foods not so great either.”
“Don’t you own the bar? Why would you sell bad food?” He asked, not bothering to hide the confusion in his voice.
“Me?” She scoffed, “No, I just work in this shit hole. And the food’s not bad, it’s just bland. My boss is an ass so I warn people from time to time as a way to get back at him.”
“And you’re not worried I’m going to tell him?”
“Even if you do, it's not like he can fire me. Well, he can but he won’t. I’m part of the family and as much as he complains about me being a shitty employee, he refuses to get rid of me on principle,” Her lips curled into a smug smile as she spoke.
“Are all families like this?” He thought back to his own. The one he had before the Empire came along. He didn’t remember much about them. Just flashes of a warm smile, a soothing voice, and sand. Lots and lots of sand. The only thing he knew for a fact was that he was ten when he lost them. He couldn’t even recall where he was from and something about that fact made him feel a little melancholy. In a way that he hadn’t felt in years.
It must’ve been an odd question to ask because the smile fell from her face and something replaced it. Something akin to…sympathy? Maybe? He wasn’t sure.
“Mine is,” She shrugged and shifted so that her side was pressed against the counter but her attention remained on him, “You never answered my question. What are you here for…?” Her voice trailed off and for a moment he wasn’t sure what she wanted. He was never good with subtlety but after a beat he picked up on what she was silently
asking for.
“Luke. My name is Luke,” His eyes shot to the side to make sure no one was listening. That paranoia returned and creeped along his spine like a spider crawling over his skin, “And I need somewhere to lay low. Where can I go where the Empire won’t find me?”
“The Empire?” She pushed away from the bar and gripped the edge of it, now looking just as paranoid as he felt. Her voice fell to a hush, “Are you in trouble with the Empire?”
“Yes,” He whispered and tried to keep the urgency out of his voice. He needed to remain calm, “Do they come here?”
“Yeah,” There was a heaviness in her voice and her shoulders sagged ever so slightly, “Every week or so. Sometimes more than that. They search for rebels, Jedi, or sympathizers. They come here, trash the village looking for a reason to raze it to the ground, and leave when they don’t find it. It’s become routine at this point. The other villagers are terrified of them. So much so that they refuse to complain out of fear that the Empire is somehow watching their every move. Honestly? They might be.”
So, The Empire had come here. Was still lurking around if what she was saying was true. That certainly made things more difficult but he had predicted that. He was important to the Empire, to Palpatine, and he was sure that every stormtrooper in the galaxy was on the lookout for him.
“How long ago were they here?” He inquired tensely.
“Two days ago,” She replied distantly before seemingly coming back to herself with a shake of her head. She cleared her throat, “So, you’re fine. At least for another five to seven business days.”
He relaxed and let out a sigh of relief. Good. At least he had that going for him, “Do you know where I can go? Where they can’t find me? Please,” Desperation, a kind he didn’t know he was capable of slipping out, “If they find me, I’m dead.”
She eyed him and the silence that dragged on felt like it lasted for years. Every second was agonizing and mental images of a sith’s saber at his throat had him swallowing thickly. He could handle himself in a fight. He could kill a Sith easily. It helped being one himself because he knew what to anticipate. That and he had the best training because of how strong he was in the force. But even he had his limits. Weaknesses. And all the training in the galaxy won’t help if Palpatine decided to send an entire army of fully trained Sith. And knowing him, he would go that far. There wasn’t a merciful bone in that man’s old wrinkly body. Luke may as well have spit in his face with his stunt. And extreme actions have extreme consequences he hoped he would never see.
Finally, after considering the possibility that she would expose him and create a mob, she leaned in and whispered, “I know somewhere but it won’t be a dream vacation.”
Luke ducked his head lower the closer she got, “I’ll take it.”
“It’s hot,” She pointed out and gestured to his hood, “With all those layers you’ll heatstroke the second you step off the ship.”
“I’ll manage,” And he was sure he would. Mostly, “Where is it?”
She considered him for a moment before sighing and shaking her head, “Tattoine.” She grabbed a glass off the shelf behind her and set it down in front of him, “After Jabba the Hutt was offed by a princess from Alderaan someone else took the throne. Then that person was killed and now there’s a new ruler in town and rumor has it he doesn’t like the Empire.”
Luke perked up at that, “Go on.”
“The new guy’s been busy. He’s been breaking up slave rings and chasing away Imps. He’s been pissing off the Empire a lot lately but because Tattoine is a dust ball of a planet with very little resources the word is that the Emperor pulled back troops,” The bartender grabbed a dark blue bottle, twisted off the cap, and with practiced ease she poured the contents into the glass, “You’ll be miserable but somewhat safe if you choose to go there.”
Tattoine. Why did that name sound so, so familiar? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch or a word just on the tip of his tongue but for the life of him he couldn’t remember. Like a wall barricading him from getting any closer. In his mind’s eye he stared at it defiantly and promised it that this wasn’t over.
“Okay, Tattoine it is,” He looked down at the glass filled with blue alcohol and hesitantly reached towards it. He picked it up and huffed out a soft laugh, “I still don’t drink.”
“Trust me, where you’re going you’re going to need it,” She said sardonically.
He had never tasted alcohol before. He wasn’t allowed too. That didn’t mean he wasn't curious about it. He slowly, like he was afraid it was going to poison him, raised the cup to his lips and without exposing his face he took a sip. He blinked at it in surprise when he tasted how sweet it was and without another thought he downed the entire thing.
Luke slammed the cup down onto the bar and a sort of warm fuzzy feeling spread throughout his system. Not enough to inebriate or make him tipsy but enough to make him feel warm. It was nice, he decided.
“Thank you. For the drink and the information. But I don’t understand…why are you helping me?” If he were being honest with himself, he half expected for this to go completely sideways and was mentally preparing himself to kill some locals. Which he was not beyond doing if it meant keeping himself safe.
She shrugged nonchalantly and swiped another glass off the shelf. This time to pour herself a drink, “What are you talking about? I’m just a simple bartender who likes to gossip. Nothing more, nothing less.” The liquor she picked was darker and richer, “And if that gossip happens to be of use to someone then let’s call it a happy coincidence.” She tossed back her drink like a champ and set the glass down right in front of Luke’s with a lopsided smile, “How do you plan on getting there? You got a ship?”
Luke winced sheepishly. While he didn’t regret blowing up the TIE fighter, even if he removed all the trackers on it, he still should’ve thought of a plan B when it came to transportation, “No, I uh…the brakes went out. Had to junk it.”
“The brakes went out,” She stared at him disbelievingly.
“Yes, the brakes went out,” He repeated while sounding like he didn’t believe his own story, “But it’s fine. I can find a way there. I’m resourceful.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Her tone contradicted that sentiment but he didn’t call her on it.
He slipped off the stool feeling something akin to hope. A fire he hadn’t felt in a very long time rushed through his veins and his stomach flipped. Is this what it felt like to be excited about something? Maker, this was a nice feeling.
“Luke,” She called out softly and there was concern in her eyes even when he still refused to meet hers, “Be careful. It’s a dangerous galaxy out there with vicious cutthroat people. Take care of yourself.”
Oh. Well, this was new. When was the last time someone cared about his well being? He thought about it and he couldn’t remember a single instance. At least none that he could think of while being trained by the Empire. If he got hurt, he was told to walk it off. If they hurt him, they told him to toughen up. If he cried he was punished severely until he vowed never to cry again. He wanted to break that vow here and now.
Especially since he was one of those cutthroat people she was talking about.
“Thank you,” He forced back the emotion that threatened to overtake him and his training kicked back in. Back in an instant he was calm and numb. He turned to leave but hesitated. He spun on his heel back toward the bartender and said, “I never got your name. What if I see you again someday?”
She smiled. A big bright smile that he didn’t recognize because he had never seen one like it before. No one ever smiled in the Empire.
“My name’s Mel. Come back someday, when it’s safe, and tell me how it goes for you,” She waved and turned her attention to one of the other patrons who was demanding her attention.
And with nothing more needing to be said Luke turned and left.
Nighttime came quickly and as much as Luke wanted to stop, pull his hood down, and stargaze the unfortunate reality was that he wasn’t safe. And he wasn’t going to be safe until he reached Tattoine. Which meant he had to improvise, something he was very talented at. Well, he liked to think it was natural talent and not the Force helping him along but something told him it was probably the latter.
He didn’t think too hard about it.
He stood in the shadows of a corner in a docking bay on the outskirts of town with his body pressed tightly against the wall. The bay was small and fitting for a village of it’s size which meant little to no hiding spots. But he made do. There were several ships there. None too impressive but he wasn’t picky. If it got him from point A to point B then he wasn’t going to complain.
As he awaited in the shadows he couldn’t help but feel a sense of dejavu. He had done this before, many many times, but this time it wasn’t to kill. It was to run. And before he knew it his thoughts turned to a memory he didn’t dwell on often.
He perched on the branch of a tree as his yellow eyes scanned the encampment nearby. He was far enough that he wouldn’t be spotted but could still spy from the shadows. A tent was set up and a fire blazed to keep them warm from the cold.
There wasn’t any snow but it was frosty enough to make teeth chatter. And the family he was hunting huddled close to the fire. There were two humanoid women, leaning against each other and telling stories. He couldn’t remember much about their faces, their eyes, or even the color of their hair. After so many missions their faces all blended together and sometimes it was just easier to forget.
Next to them sat a little boy who was the true mission.
He was reported to be force sensitive after he saved one of his friends from getting hit by a speeder. An informant gave him up with a greedy smile and no remorse in his eyes. Something he had become very familiar with.
The little boy was to be killed. The women were smart and they took him and ran the second he showed his abilities. It was a good idea to travel deep into the woods or at least it would have if they didn’t have him hunting them.
He’s killed people, sure. But mostly rebels at this point. He was twenty and this was his first mission that involved killing a force sensitive. More accurately, a force sensitive child.
He was ready. This is what he was trained for. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t allowed to do this sooner but he hypothesized it was because his superiors didn’t think he was ready. He wasn’t mature enough, trained enough, or strong enough to handle something like this. He could handle it. He had proven his loyalty at this point. He could handle a lightsaber better than any of his fellow soldiers and his handle with the force was military. Stronger than any inquisitor who would sneer at him with jealousy.
He was so ready but as he heard the soft murmuring of their voices, he found himself hesitating. The woman on the left reminded him of someone. Someone from his dreams. The ones with sand, smiles, and warmth.
She had such a soft motherly face. All the running and fear didn’t take that from her. She held her wife with such love, it hurt him. Why did it hurt?
And her son. He was small but his eyes were large. Like they were trying to take in all of the world all at once. At this moment, they didn’t look like a family on the run. No, they appeared as if they were just taking a vacation in the middle of the woods.
Why? Why? Why?
Why weren’t they scared? Why weren’t they shivering from fear instead of the cold? This child shouldn’t be smiling so tenderly at his mother as she told him a bedtime story. He should be afraid. Just like he was.
And he felt pure anger. A rage like a stampede of wild bantha. He wanted to drive his lightsaber through this woman’s chest and watch the life fade from her eyes. He wanted the child to watch so he too could learn that life wasn’t fair. That it was cruel and unrelenting. Painful and miserable.
A lesson he had to learn over and over again. Not everyone gets a mother and a father and comfort. And why should this child have it? What was so special about him?
He was seconds away from dropping down and making his murderous fantasies into a reality when he heard it. Her voice. Soft like a melody. Gentle and buttery sweet. Nobody he had met had spoken to him like that. Or maybe someone had and he just couldn’t recall. He liked the sound of her voice and every second she spoke he could feel his fury subsiding.
“And the brave little boy found his way back home to his family with a smile brighter than the sun despite being lost for so long. His rescuer held his hand tightly but let go to let him be with his loved ones. The old weary man who was thought to be a hermit watched as the little boy was embraced by his mother and father but he did not join them in their celebration,” The woman with the brown hair spoke with such love in her voice and he found himself sitting down on the tree branch. Mesmerized by her.
“Why didn’t he?” The little boy asked, enraptured as much as he was.
“Hm, I’m not sure,” She said thoughtfully, “But you know, when I was told this story I asked the very same question.”
“You told me grandpa told you this story. What did he say?” The little boy scooted closer and cuddled up to the other woman. He dug deep for any memory of what she looked like and while it gave him a mild headache he was able to place what species she was. Twi’lek. With lavender colored skin and lekku that fell to the small of her back.
The Twi’lek rested her cheek on the woman’s shoulder but didn’t say a word. She seemed perfectly content to let the other woman speak with a look of love in her eyes that spoke, “I could listen to you speak for years and never be bored.”
“Well,” The brown haired woman grinned, “He wasn’t quite sure either. But what I never told you was that your grandfather was the little boy in the story.”
The boy gasped and his eyes grew wider, “What? He was? It’s not just a fairy tale?”
She nodded, “That’s right,” There was a twinkle in her eye, “He told me that after he reunited with his parents, your great grandparents, he turned around and the old man he had come to know as a friend had disappeared. And sometimes when he told me this story he would get a little sad.” Her smile turned wistful, “This person, a kind stranger who helped him when he was at his most vulnerable, guided him back home. Told him fantastical stories about fighting bad people, seeing beautiful things on other planets, and rescued him from more than one hairy situation had just disappeared like he had never existed. And for a very long time he was upset. Even angry. It wasn’t until he got older that he understood.”
“Understood what?” The boy tilted his head with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Well, he spent years wondering why he didn’t stay or even say goodbye. It frustrated and made him sad because he felt like he had lost a friend. Then he thought about it. Really truly thought about it. The old man didn’t stay because he was afraid to meet your great grandparents or secretly wanted to be rid of him. At least he hoped not. No, my father had a theory that him leaving…was really to protect him.”
That piqued Twi’lek’s interest, “What do you mean, my love? I’ve heard you tell this story a thousand times but I’ve never heard about this before.”
“Well, because it’s still just a theory but something my father knew in his bones to be true. I wanted to wait until our son was old enough to understand,” Sadness settled into her eyes and her smile dimmed, “But given the situation, I think he’s mature enough to know now.”
The boy smiled and she returned it as best as she could. But it was hard. He could finally see that. The toll being hunted like an animal was taking on her. But she didn’t stop. No, she put on a brave face and continued on.
“Father told me the story countless times. To the point I could recite it back to him word for word. The story about how a curious little boy wandered too far into the woods and searched for days for a way back home until he stumbled upon a house in the forest. He would go into great detail about the things he saw, the dangers he faced, and about the things the man told him to keep him entertained but he never told me who he was. Not until I was much older. The man was…was a Jedi,” She lowered her voice but the warmth in her eyes remained, “A retired one. And the Jedi were known as peacekeepers. Warriors who didn’t fight because they wanted to but because they had to. To keep the galaxy safe. To keep people like us safe.”
“But,” The boy frowned, “If he was a Jedi he still could’ve stayed. Grandpa wanted him to stay and be friends forever.”
“True,” She held out a hand to him and the boy moved to stand in front of her. He slipped his small hand into hers, “But a Jedi life is not a safe one. Those stories he told your grandfather were true. And while he could’ve stayed in his life like your grandpa wanted, it would’ve put him and our family at risk. This was a lesson that only growing up could teach your grandpa. Sometimes you have to do the hard thing, the right thing, to keep the people you care about safe. The old man cared about your grandfather and by leaving before our family could truly get attached, he showed it. Not by words but by action. Not every good deed will feel good or satisfying. Some will leave you sad and even a little lonely.”
“Then why do it at all?” LS-819 asked. He had jumped down silently from the tree before he could stop himself and had crept over to the camp. He sat down on a log right next to the unsuspecting family with his hood pulled over his head.
The family sprung into action. They startled to their feet with the brown haired woman pushing her son behind her and the Twi’lek stood in front of them both, hissing as she pulled a dagger from her boot. She held it in front of her defensively and glared at him with intensity mixed with pure fear.
“Who are you?” She demanded and despite the ferocity in her eyes, her hand trembled, “You need to leave. Now! Before I kill you!”
“I’m not here to hurt you,” He held up his hands placatingly but kept his eyes to the ground, “I’m a traveler.” He lied, “I happened upon your camp and I eavesdropped. I’m sorry if I startled you.”
“Liar!” She shouted and pointed the sharp end of the dagger to the weapon on his belt, “I can see your lightsaber. You’re an inquisitor. You’re here to kill us. Admit it!”
Oh. He had been so caught up in the story he had forgotten he still had a lightsaber on his person. He lowered his hands and he chose his next words carefully. Mostly for their sake. If they attacked him it was surely not going to end well.
He decided to go for broke, “You’re right. That was my intention,” He lowered one hand and rested it on his lightsaber. The family visibly tensed and scuffled back. The boy was close to tears, the brunette was shaking while holding him like it was going to be the last time, and while the Twi’lek tried her damndest to look intimidating her dagger trembled.
Then he did something that surprised even him. He unclipped the saber and he tossed it toward them. They stared at him in open shock as the weapon rolled until it hit the Twi’lek’s feet with a soft thud against her boot.
“But…” He hesitated and swallowed thickly. His own heart thudded in his chest in a way that was familiar and wasn’t at the same time, “I’m not going to anymore.”
“Why?” The brunette asked, her voice quiet and frightened.
“Because…” He sighed and he pulled down his hood. There was no point in hiding when the truth was out there. His bright yellow eyes meet the brown haired woman’s and there must’ve been something in his gaze. Something he couldn’t understand but she did that made her relax despite the obvious danger he presented. When he spoke next his voice sounded small, even to him, “I want to know why.”
Then just like that it was like a dam broke, “I only heard the very end of your story but I want to know why. Why was the old man so…” He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t bring himself to even utter the word “kind”, “What was the point of it if he didn’t get the recognition for it? What’s the point of doing something like that if he didn’t get something in return? Isn’t that what the point of life is? You do something, you get something in return. That’s the order of things. So, why? Why help him if he wasn’t at least going to get a, “thank you,” in return? I don’t…I don’t understand.”
“Of course you wouldn’t understand you’re a—“ The Twi’lek began but was interrupted by the other woman. She placed a hand on her shoulder and she stepped past her, “Tyla, what are you—“ Her voice trailed off as she stared at her partner in utter bewilderment.
Tyla, oh right, that was the woman’s name.
Tyla held herself with a mixture of determination and caution as she approached him. She knelt down in front of him and he wasn’t sure if she was brave or stupid. She peered up at him unflinchingly and the features of her face slowly came back to him.
She wasn’t old or old enough to have any gray in her hair. Mature was a more appropriate word for her. Her hair was pulled back into a braid with three smaller ones sitting atop joining the largest. Her eyes were the softest brown he had ever seen. Almost as dark as the night sky but he wasn’t sure if that was because of the dim lighting.
“The point is that a good deed isn’t truly a good deep if it’s motivated by selfish desire,” Her tone wasn’t unkind but still wary, “If the old man rescued my father just because he wanted to be the hero in the eyes of strangers then, would he really be a hero? Not everyone is motivated to do kind things for recognition. Some do it because…at their core they’re just kind. If the story ended differently and he stayed like my father wanted then it would’ve put my family in danger. The Jedi, while peacekeepers, aren’t the best at keeping targets off their backs.”
“But…” He mumbled, sounding childish even to himself, “He would’ve had someone who cared about him.”
Something akin to understanding dawned in her eyes and that warm sweet smile returned to her face for the first time since he made himself known. She reached out and gently pushed down the hand he forgot he still had raised. She took it into hers and placed her other hand on top, “What makes you think he didn’t?”
“What?” That, more than anything, confused him.
“Despite never seeing the Jedi again my father told me the story of the brave and kind old man who rescued him, protected him, and taught him valuable lessons he treasured for the rest of his life. Lessons he taught me. What about that tells you that the old man wasn’t cared about?” She inquired as she looked down at his calloused hand. It was larger than hers but somehow he felt smaller in her hands. Like a young boy.
The Twi’lek and the little boy relaxed only slightly behind her but still remained silent and standing. The little boy hid behind his mother’s leg and peeked out at him with his hand gripping tightly at her pant leg.
LS-819 wanted to argue. He wanted to say that the old man deserved to see that kind of care and love in person. That it wasn’t fair that he didn’t but it seemed that Tyla wasn’t finished.
“Like I said before. Not every good deed will feel good or satisfying. Not every good deed will make everyone happy. Like me for example. The Empire knows about my little Wren,” She gestured to the little boy behind her, “And to keep him safe I’ve had to pack up my family and move to the deepest darkest part of the woods. It’s the right thing to do to keep him safe but…it certainly doesn’t feel good. It’s actually scary and painful. My son had friends and we had a community that we loved. And we had to leave it all behind because of…”
Him. Because of him. She didn’t say it. She didn’t have too.
Something wet rolled down his cheek and with his free hand he brushed it away. He stared at the gathered tears in astonishment and confusion. He hadn’t cried in such a long time. He hadn’t felt such strong emotions for just as long.
“You’re….” He wiped away the rest of the offending tears with the back of his sleeve and he sniffed. He composed himself and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “You’re a good mother and I’m…” He couldn’t bring himself to say that he was sorry. No, that would be way too much and he was already close to breaking. Instead he said, “I’m not going to hurt you or turn you in. I’ll tell my superiors that I killed you.”
“What?” The Twi’lek asked breathlessly and with eyes as wide as the moon hanging overhead, “B-But…but why? You’re a Sith. You’re killers. Why would you do this for us?”
He was just as befuddled as she was. Killing is what he was raised to do. He was trained, groomed, and taught that he was a weapon for the Empire. That his life wasn’t his own but belonged to Palpatine. That everything he stood for was in service of a greater cause and to betray that was the worst thing a soldier could do.
Shockingly, he found himself yet again telling the truth, “I don’t know…but your story. The one about the old man and what he did…it just….” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, “I really, really liked it.” He let out a shaky breath, “Now, I’m going to go. I’m going to leave you and your family alone and you’ll never see me again. You’ll be safe. I wouldn’t advise going back to your old village and if you see anyone you used to know, say a friend or an acquaintance, avoid them. I can convince them you’re dead but you don’t know who sold you out. Take no chances.”
He glanced between the two women who both wore equally grim and resigned expressions. Their situation wasn’t ideal but it was better than running for the rest of their lives.
He looked back down at Tyla and continued, “And go far. Far away where no one will ever recognize you. I know it’s not much but—“
He was cut off by arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him tightly, and a shaky emotional voice whispered in his ear, “It’s enough. It’s a chance. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
He wasn’t expecting that. Of all the reactions he anticipated; rage, terror, and even violence, a hug wasn’t at the top of that list. A hug didn’t even make the list. He clenched his hands at his sides and he thought about hugging back. But something inside of him held back.
He hasn’t been hugged in so long. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had been hugged and when he tried to think back on it, it was like hitting a brick wall. He didn’t push. He didn’t have the strength to.
So his arms stayed at his side and after a beat she pulled away. Her eyes were filled with tears and wore a smile of relief, “What’s your name?” She asked as she wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.
He hesitated and almost blurted out his identification number. He thought about it and he must’ve taken too long because after a couple of minutes of silence she waved her hand, almost as if to wave away the question, “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. I just—“
“Luke,” He interrupted, surprising himself. He wasn’t sure where the name had come from. Maybe he had heard it in passing or something but he found that he didn’t hate it, “My name is Luke.”
“Luke,” The Twi'lek's eyes bore into him as sharp as a dagger. She didn’t trust him and he couldn’t blame her. If he were in this situation he wouldn’t trust someone like him even if his life depended on it, “How do we know you’re not just tricking us into a false sense of security? You Sith are cruel. You’re known killers who enjoy the lives you take.”
Tyla glared at the Twi’lek, “Yana, you—“
“No,” LS-819 met Yana’s eyes and tried his best to convey safety. Even if he didn’t know exactly how to do that, “She’s right.” Tyla’s head swiveled back toward him with a look of confusion, “I’m from the Empire. Yes, I’m letting you go but that doesn’t mean you should ever trust me. Or people like me. I didn’t kill you this time but if I ever find you again, I can’t guarantee I won’t next time.”
He stood and held out his hand. The lightsaber flew into it and he clipped it onto his belt, “Do not ever let me see you again because I can’t promise you’ll be safe.” This was for the best. Better these people hated and feared people like him than end up with their heads impaled on a stick.
There were people far more twisted and sicker in the Empire than him. This was for the best, he told himself again.
“And don’t let him use his powers,” He pointed at the boy who stared at him with wide terrified eyes, “Even if someone you care about is in trouble. Even if it could save someone’s life. Don’t. You’ll put everyone you care about in danger.”
“Don’t talk to him like that, he’s just a boy!” Yana snapped fiercely and Tyla returned to her side. The brown haired woman didn’t look as scared as her son or as furious as her partner. No. She stared at him like she was trying to figure him out. Understand him.
“I was a boy once too,” He stated passionately. He needed them to understand the importance of what he was saying, “A boy just like him.” The anger faded from Yana’s eyes and horror replaced it, “Now look at me. Look at my eyes. This is what they’ll do. This is what they’ll turn him into if they decide he’s worth more living than dead,” He looked down at the boy and spoke with more gentleness than he thought capable, “I know it’s hard to understand. You’re just a child.” He knelt down, “But if the wrong people find out about you then this,” He gestured to his face, “Is what you’ll become. Don’t be like me. Be better than I ever will be. Live a long boring life where the Empire will never find you. Can you do that?”
The boy didn’t speak. He still looked too afraid to. Instead he nodded, slowly but surely.
Satisfied LS-819 stood and he bowed his head to the family, “Goodbye. May I never see you again. Whether it be living or…” Well, if he finished that sentiment it was going to set a tone more grim than it already was.
He turned to leave but stopped when a thought popped into his head, “Oh and get a blaster.” He gestured to the knife Yana was still wielding, “Or a rifle. Not that either will do much against a fully trained Sith but you’ll at least have a better fighting chance should a situation like this ever happen again.”
Yana turned a darker shade of lavender either out of embarrassment or anger. He wasn’t sure. She spoke through gritted teeth, “We didn’t have time to grab our blaster when we were being chased from our home by people like you.” Ah, so it was anger.
Fair.
He sighed and reached for the weapon strapped to his leg. He didn’t use it, ever, or even need it but had it just in case. He was grateful for it now. He pulled the blaster free from his holster and tossed it at their feet, “That’s an Empire grade blaster. Better than your run of the mill if you know how to use it. Scratch off the numbers on the side so it’s not traced back to me should you get captured.”
Yana gaped at him. She opened and closed her mouth like she was trying but failing to find the right words to say, “I-I…”
“Thank you,” Tyla quickly scooped up the blaster and held it protectively. She nodded to him gratefully, “We’ll try our best not to be captured.”
“Thank you,” For a second time he moved to leave and put some distance between him and this loving family but hesitated. Something he had always wanted to say but wasn’t allowed floated through his mind. He wasn’t sure where he heard it, especially given how spotty his memory’s been, but tonight was about breaking rules. What’s one more?
“May the force be with you,” And with that, he walked away.
And he wasn’t sure, it may have been his imagination, but he could’ve sworn he heard, “And with you.” Whispered right back.
He was jostled from the memory by the sounds of drunken singing. He peered around the corner and his lips twisted into a smirk. A figure danced into view. His movements were sloppy and his words slurred.
The man was old with bright white hair wrapped around the back of his head. The top of it was smooth and shiny. His mustache was overgrown and messy from what he could see. He wasn’t much to look at. The rest of him was skinny but his belly was round and more prominent with his black belt squeezing his waist.
“About that time two young and lovely girls just happened by,” His voice was off key and every fifth word was interrupted with a hiccup, “And one says to the other with a twinkle in her eye, see yon sleeping pilot,” He approached a cargo lift vessel. He threw his arms out wide and he hugged the side of it. He pulled away and looked into the silver reflective surface and continued singing, “So strong and handsome built.” He winked at himself, “I wonder if it’s true what they don’t wear beneath the belt.”
He tugged on his belt and laughed as if he told the funniest joke.
Luke rolled his eyes and vowed to never get that drunk. Even if it looked a little fun.
The Sith stared at the swaying man and mulled over his options. He could kill him. It wouldn’t take much effort considering how enebriated the man was. A gentle breeze could probably take the poor bastard out. But if he killed him then he would have to hide the body because the last thing he needed was to leave a trail for the Empire to pick up on.
And if he killed him then he would have to find a spot to bury him. Then he would need a shovel. Where was he gonna find a shovel? He didn’t have the credits to buy one and that would look a little suspicious given the time of night. Theoretically, he could use the force. He’s never used it for this type of thing but there was a first time for everything. But it would still take up way too much of his time and time was something he didn’t have so if he—
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a body hitting the floor. He looked over and the drunk had passed out cold on the floor. He frowned and wondered if he was going to have to bury the man anyway. Even if he didn’t kill him.
He pulled away from his shadowy corner and made his way over to the sprawled out man. He observed him for a moment and noted with relief that he was still breathing. And snoring. Very loudly.
He sighed as he felt the beginnings of a headache. He tilted his head and formulated a plan. One less complicated than his original.
“Okay,” He said aloud, “Plan B it is.”
He held out his hand and using the force he raised the man off of the ground. The passed out gentleman didn’t so much as twitch as he floated several feet in the air. His snores did grow a little louder much to Luke’s annoyance.
The Sith, with the drunk in tow, made his way over to the entrance of the cargo lift. With his free hand he forced the loading ramp open. He glanced over his shoulder expecting alarms to go off or for someone to stumble upon practically kidnapping a man and stealing his ship. But nothing. Aside from the groaning of the ramp as it kissed the ground and the thunderous snoring of the unwitting drunk, nothing.
He relaxed despite thoughts of an army of Siths and Stormtroopers filling the docking bay with blasters/sabers pointed at him filling his mind like poison. He marched up the ramp and into the belly of the ship with his new companion floating right behind him.
The man was dead to the galaxy.
Luke had him propped up in the copilot's seat buckled in because he wasn’t going to keep hoisting him off of the ground and back into the seat. But once he had him settled, Luke realized something. He didn’t know how to pilot the ship.
And once he realized it, he then promptly and dramatically pressed his face against the console with a long drawn out groan. He had gotten so far. He wanted to be off of the planet the second his butt hit the driver's seat but what he hadn’t anticipated was how different the controls were compared to a TIE fighter.
Which was the only thing he was ever permitted to pilot. Anything bigger was done by subordinates.
And with that problem followed another one. He didn’t know how to get to Tattoine.
One would think with the Empire being so vast, powerful, and well funded that they would take the time to properly educate the children they adopt. Or maybe his training just happened to be different. More controlled, he thought bitterly.
He didn’t train with the rest of the Sith’s and that didn’t go unnoticed by him or them. Despite being powerful in the force and brilliant with a lightsaber he still wasn’t trusted. Respected, feared, and given the title, “Prince of the Empire” but never trusted.
They taught him how to read, count, battle strategy, pilot a TIE fighter, and be a finely tuned weapon but that was it.
He had led missions before, commanded entire squadrons, and even solo missions but he could never recall where he went. He’s been to other planets before. He knows this for certain. He’s probably even been to Tattoine but any memory of coordinates had been wiped clean from his mind.
He could remember arriving on the targeted planet, killing anyone the Empire deemed a threat, and returning back but never the actual orders. He knew he had received them, he had to have, but there was that same damn barrier in his head when he tried to recall them.
The Empire was messing with his memories. He wasn’t sure of it before but he was now. While he still served under Palpatine he began to notice that something was amiss but he never let it show. Especially if what he was suspecting was correct.
There were gaps in his memories, parts of his life that he was missing, and at first he just thought he was going crazy. That he was just tired and forgetful. But as time went on and he forgot more about the names of the places he went to, he realized it went beyond mere exhaustion. It was manipulation.
But he swept it under the rug for the time being. Something to think about later when he wasn’t under the thumb of the Empire.
“Well,” he thought grimly as he sat back in the old weathered Captain’s seat, “I have time to think about it now.”
But when he tried to think about it, about the memories and his next big move, he found himself quickly overwhelmed. He had come so far. He escaped, found a way to a planet where he wouldn’t be found, and was so, so close to being free.
But then what next? What does freedom look like?
Will it look like the freedom he had read about in his book?
He pulled out said book from his pocket. It was smaller than a regular book and leather bound. He ran his fingers over the cover lovingly and smiled softly. Even just holding the book made him feel calmer. More grounded.
He looked back at the sleeping pilot who snorted unattractively and muttered something too soft for him to hear. He shook his head and turned back to his book. He thought about the stories he had read countless times and was never bored of them. About the hero of the story who fought battles, gained friends, made mistakes, loved passionately, saw so many wonderful things but lost so, so much.
It was then and there Luke settled on a course of action. He would get to Tattoine and from there he would decide what would happen next. He was no longer a soldier, a weapon, or a puppet. He was now the master of his own destiny and the writer of his own story. Even if the Empire found him and dragged him back.
His life was his own now and nothing was going to change that.
But for now he was stuck waiting for the pilot to wake up to what was guaranteed to be a nasty hangover.
Luckily he had something to entertain him in the meantime. He flipped open the book to the very front page. The first story was always one of his favorites. It had everything. Suspense, action, and adventure.
The handwriting was slightly messy but legible enough for Luke to read it. So he settled in and was immediately enraptured. Everything else, all of his issues faded away to the back of his mind as he took in the familiar words he had come to love so dearly.
“The day my life began was when I saw her. An angel in servants' clothing. Her name was Padme and out of all the things I had seen in my life she still holds the title for most beautiful. She was accompanied by a Jedi Master named Qui Gon who came to the shop in search of parts for their broken down ship…”