Beyond - Legends Dirty's Little Drabbles - updated 8/24 - The Rebellion!

Beginnings

In the beginning there is great wonder.

Wonder at the vastness of the galaxy.

And awe at its myriad of gifts.

Yearning to be a part of it all, a fierce desire to shake free of the sands of his youth.

He knows that his father had seen what the galaxy has to offer, and he wants to see the sights his father has seen. They will never meet, but their adventures will be a bond between them.

He longs to cut loose from the bonds that keep him dune-bound and soar up among the black and bright of space.



Middles

They call it middle age, though he scoffs at such things, for who is to know how many days or years are allotted?

The Force alone decides that, doling them out in cautious fashion, granting long life here, cutting short the string of destiny there.

Luke, however, does not care if this is the end or the middle, for he finally knows happiness. There is fulfillment in these grown-up years. A wife?then a son. Unexpected joy there, and he revels in his fatherhood.

If this is the middle, than he must give thanks.

Years stretch out before him ? a gift.





Ends

He used to think that endings were sad, a time of sorrow and farewell. Now, at the end of a long and very eventful life, he can only think of this ending as yet another, new beginning. Life will go on for those he has left behind, and he will move onto whatever comes next.

It will be a grand adventure, as grand as the one he has lived in this life.

Old friends to greet, loved ones never met. He will finally see the roundness of it all, appreciate the endless cycle.

There are no true endings. Not really.


First

He can barely remember the face of the first girl he kissed.

He still blushes at the memory. It had been another Rebel, caught up in the wild elation of victory. The first Death Star was nothing more than a nightmare and alcohol and laughter flowed freely.

She had thrown herself into his arms and kissed him. It had been a hot, wet, sloppy kiss. He had enjoyed it. She had been pressed up close, a heady experience for a young farmboy.

She had pulled back and grinned at him. ?For the hero,? she whispered. And then she was gone.




Last


It will be their last kiss, he senses that quite clearly.

All the years they have spent together resonate in that touching of lips.

Their first inauspicious meeting. Their first kiss, equally awkward and completely?right. The first time he had told her he loved her, the first time she said the same.

Their unparalleled joy at the prospect of being parents, their fear at the same.

Wars. Losing loved ones. Seeing change sweep across the galaxy.

But mostly just them, together. As it should be.

He savors the feel of Mara?s mouth on his. She?s warm, her last kiss tender.

 

Those were great!

 

It will be a grand adventure, as grand as the one he has lived in this life.

That's Luke. Reading a line like helps me feel better when I think about how the SW heroes will eventually die. My favorite was definitely "Beginnings."

 

You write Luke well.

 

Very nice. I love Luke drabbles.

 

Alishu06 Thank you.

JadeSolo Luke isn't allowed to die. Not Ever.

SilSolo Thank you.

Araxie Me, too!

---

[b]Hours[/b]

It had been hours since he had been transformed from a man into a father.

There was Ben, squirming in Mara?s arms, his big eyes wide with wonder at the galaxy. Luke knew exactly how his son felt, for he was feeling just as awed that Ben even existed.

As babies go, Ben was perfect, as least in his parents? eyes. They could sense him in the Force, feel him in their arms. He was here, and he was safe. They could ask nothing else of the Force. This moment, with all its promises stretched out before them, was limitless.



[b]Days[/b]

It had been days since they left him, given their son into another?s care so that they might fight a war. Now they had a hostage to fortune, and the vulnerability of it made him wake up bathed in sweat.

Death was not so bad, not for himself. But to think of leaving his son alone in this tumultuous galaxy made Luke Skywalker afraid.

Fear was a terrible thing, and he knew well that it lead into darkness.

?It?s healthy to be afraid,? she murmured, waking up to hold him. ?It?ll make you careful.?

He holds her close, drawing comfort.


[b]Weeks[/b]

It has been twenty-seven weeks since Anakin had died. Twenty-seven weeks since his nephew?s place in the Force had been filled with cold and dark before disappearing altogether.

Luke wonders if what he feels is anything more than a ghostly reflection of the despair and agony that his sister feels.

A parent should never have to grieve for a child, for that was not the natural order of things.

Anakin?

So much promise in that name, yet neither of them had lived to fulfill it. One threw his unique destiny away, while the other had it stolen ruthlessly from him.






[b]Months[/b]

How many months since he had been able to sleep?

Too many to count, too few to kill him. The healing trances could only go so far in alleviating his fatigue. Still, they helped, kept him alert enough to keep from getting himself obliterated. Not by much, but enough.

Mara seemed to be sleeping fine. She was better at that than he was, compartmentalizing her life.

She didn?t mix the parts up, she kept her grip on what was real.

?Ben matters, [i]you[/i] matter,? she told him. ?The war is just something to survive ? and keep my family with me.?





[b]Years[/b]


The war had been over for years, but peace was still long in coming. Old enemies had been replaced by new, old friends had become antagonists.

Luke was saddened by the passage of time, the way things changed, and yet stayed the same.

It seemed there would never be peace.

The Republic had fallen and given way to the Empire, which had given way to the New Republic.

Some days he didn?t think it made a difference.

Some days.

But sometimes he [i]knew[/i]. He took comfort in those days.

He was a Jedi. First, last?a Jedi. He served the Force.

 

I haven't completed the drabbles for this week, but here's what I've got.

---

[b]Red[/b]

He was bleeding. Bright crimson drops of life.

He watched the blood run out of his body and drip slowly onto the snow below. The cold he felt had nothing to do with the ice of Hoth. It bloomed inside of him, radiating out in freezing waves.

Death had come for him at last.

The Rebellion would go on without him, but he would not go on at all. Unless?there [i]was[/i] something waiting beyond this life.

As he watched, the monstrous machines of the Empire moved over him. Their guns fired, but sounded far away.

He was beyond pain now.



[b]Grey[/b]


Everything around her was grey, the uniforms, the walls, the floors. Nothing but the unending storm clouds of the Empire.

The end would come soon for her.

Nothing could stop that now, and her mission would not be completed.

It was that failure that gnawed at her, not her own untimely death.

The Rebellion ? it had been her cause, the orbit around which she moved.

She had sworn to die for it if need be.

It seemed there was a need. No time for regrets or sorrow.

Then the door slid open.

?I?m Luke Skywalker, I?m here to rescue you.?




[b]Black[/b]

Vader is nothing more than shades of ebony, black as the deepest space, devoid of stars.

He hopes he can remain brave in the face of this terrifying menace, he wants to hold fast to his belief in his cause. But there is the terrible breathing, the ceaseless rhythm of it drives him mad. For a moment, he wonders if it drives Vader mad, too.

Then there is only the bright agony at his throat and he wonders no more.

As he struggles against that durasteel grip, he finds out that not only Vader is black.

Death is black, too.



[b]Blue[/b]


His eyes are blue, she thinks as she watches him.

He?s a hero?and yet a farmboy. She wonders if he knows how much hope he has given them. The Death Star? Gone. Destroyed by a wide-eyed boy, full of wonder at his own valor.

He blushes when he bows for her to place the medal around his neck. A boyish crush lingers in those big blue eyes and she smiles, for she feels decades older than this boy. He grins out at the crowd, still somewhat surprised that they would honor [i]him.[/i]

There is greatness waiting in him, she senses.

 

I love these! Especially the Daddy!Luke ones.

 

LOvely drabbles, and I agree that the Daddy Luke are the best!

 

Ooo, I have thoroughly enjoyed your drabbles.

From the first lot I think I like First the best. You do such a good job bringing out the flavor of a memory and the emotions that can induce even years later.

I like Months best from the second batch. Really shows that heroes are people too.
How many months since he had been able to sleep?
Too many to count, too few to kill him. The healing trances could only go so far in alleviating his fatigue. Still, they helped, kept him alert enough to keep from getting himself obliterated. Not by much, but enough.

Finnaly, I liked Red. At first I thought this was going to be about the snow beast's cave. I've never been seriously injured, but I have had panic attacks that did a pretty good job at convincing me that I was about to die. (Thankfully I haven't had one of those in years.) The surreal feeling of disconnecting and floating away from it all is really brought out in this drabble:
The Rebellion would go on without him, but he would not go on at all. Unless?there was something waiting beyond this life.
As he watched, the monstrous machines of the Empire moved over him. Their guns fired, but sounded far away.

 

GirlJedi I have a fondness for Daddy Luke as well.

SilSolo Thank you.

Blue_Milkshake I thought a lot of anonymous Rebels must have died on Hoth, so it seemed like a good idea to try and express their POV.

Thank you for reading.