Lucy (Prologue, 1 & 2)

Oct 02, 2011 23:42

Guys, guys (er, the two of you that are probably reading this), I just got Lucy fanart! Not for the au_bb -- just because! And it's gorgeous and shiny and everything is wonderful and maybe there will be more OMG this is one the most exciting things that has ever happened to me in fandom (any fandom) and my face has been frozen in :D for the last hour. Feel free to shower her with praise! Because art for me and it's good.

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Title: The Adventures of Lucy Skywalker (Prologue, 1/10, 2/10)

Fanverse: The Adventures of Lucy Skywalker

Blurb: Luke is a girl. (I tried to polish it up for the au_bigbang, but really, that's it.)

Pairings/warnings/assorted notes: No official pairings; no warnings for anything that isn't in the OT already; as always, I consider the films alone to be canon, so there's little if anything from the EU. I relied a bit on the screenplays for things like ages, but didn't treat those as hard-and-fast canon either.

Length: 28,978 words (prologue + ten chapters; finished)

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Prologue

Padmé screamed.

Bail Organa closed his eyes. It didn't feel right, watching her give birth like this, as if she were an exhibit in a zoo. No, it was worse than that: stark walls, cold, shining metal, no life or colour anywhere, nothing but the impersonal murmurs of the droids.

Not a zoo at all. A museum. There might as well have been a plaque beneath the pane. Widow of the Republic. No known creator, but one of the finest examples of early Imperial art. Modeled by Senator Amidala of Naboo.

No, it shouldn't be like that. Padmé was Padmé, vibrant and alive and herself, not just a - a sacrificial vessel of the Force. It wasn't right. Somebody should stay with her. Hold her hand. Something.

He glanced at the others. Yoda appeared very much as usual, but Obi-Wan was half-covering his face. Guilt? Shame, at any rate. No surprise there. He'd raised Skywalker, and if he weren't exactly Padmé's friend, he'd cared for her, in his way.

A medical droid stepped forward. "We need to operate on her quickly if we are to save the babies."

Bail's jaw dropped. "Babies?"

"She's carrying twins."

"Save them, we must," said Yoda. "They are our last hope."

Obi-Wan drew his breath sharply, and followed the droid through the door, taking Padmé's hand. It was something, anyway.

Another voice joined Padmé's, another scream. Bail's eyes jerked down to the baby in the droid's arms, its body a splash of life against the cold sterility of the room.

"It's a girl," the droid remarked indifferently.

"Lucy," said Padmé, her eyes distant.

An odd name, Bail thought. Not Nubian. Nobody knew where Anakin Skywalker had come from, but he'd have wagered his diplomatic immunity that a girl named Lucy Skywalker wouldn't draw any attention there.

Three minutes later, a second infant Skywalker burst into the galaxy, shrieking even more than loudly than the first.

"Another girl," said the droid.

". . . and Leia," Padmé whispered.

When they joined Padmé, finally, she was clutching her younger daughter and trying to smile. Her colourless lips hardly moved. Exsanguination, he thought automatically. It had to be. She must have hemorrhaged as they watched her, bleeding out in this comfortless room -

Obi-Wan stood helplessly beside her bed. Somebody had given the elder girl to him, but he didn't seem to know what to do with her. Padmé's hand twitched and she gasped something that Bail couldn't hear.

Then she was dead.

Without hesitation, Bail snatched the baby out of her limp arms. Leia howled for Padmé and her sister whimpered.

"Strong in the Force they are. Too strong, perhaps," muttered Yoda, and nodded at Lucy. "This one especially."

Later, as they flew to Theed, he said: "Hidden, safe, they must be kept."

"We must take them someplace where the Sith will not sense their presence," added Obi-Wan.

"Split up, they should be."

Bail blinked. It hadn't occurred to him that they would take the twins to anyone other than Padmé's family. Skywalker might not have had any - well, naturally he hadn't, he was a Jedi - but she had. There was a sister, parents, uncles and aunts, cousins, nieces. But of course Palpatine would know who had fathered Padmé's children, and Naboo was his homeworld. If he could sense them, it would be the worst possible place for them. Yet -

Bail felt the highest regard for Grandmaster Yoda and General Kenobi. He always had. But he didn't like the way they looked at Padmé's daughters, as if they were their hope and salvation. He didn't like any of it. Force-sensitive or not, these girls deserved better lives than their mother's. Than their father's.

Split up, he thought, and Lucy's stronger, they'll never let go of her, but Leia -

The words were out of his mouth before he knew he had spoken them.

"My wife and I will take the younger girl. We've always talked of adopting a baby girl," he said, and hesitated. "She will be loved with us."

"And what of the elder?" asked Obi-Wan.

Yoda sighed. "To Tatooine. To her family, send her."

So Skywalker did have family: or relatives, at any rate. On Tatooine. No wonder he'd never talked about it - the entire population were little more than slaves of the Hutts. Now he'd enslaved himself more securely than any Hutt could imagine, and his firstborn child was being sent back to whatever hellhole he'd clawed his way out of.

Bail walked over to the cribs and stared down at Lucy Skywalker's sleeping face. I'm sorry I can't save you from this, he thought. I'm sorry I can't even try.

Lucy stirred, already restless, and Leia began to scream.


Chapter One

Lucy dropped her binoculars.

"I saw a battle up there," she said, scowling. "I did."

"It was probably a freighter tanker refueling," said Biggs, and smiled down at her. "Don't mind Camie. I can see nothing much has changed here."

"It never does. But why are you back so soon? Didn't you get your commission?"

He pretended to look horrified. "Of course I got it! First mate Biggs Darklighter, at your service. I just came to say goodbye to all you unfortunate landlocked simpletons. And what about you? Still fighting with your uncle?"

"Always," she said, laughing. "I was flying the skyhopper the other day and busted it up pretty bad going through the Needle. Uncle Owen grounded me for the rest of the season. It was fantastic."

A line appeared between Biggs' brows. "You ought to take it easy, Lucy."

"What?"

"You're good, better than good, but those little skyhoppers are dangerous. Keep it up and one day - wham! - you're going to be nothing more than a dark spot on the down side of a canyon wall."

Lucy grinned. "You're starting to sound like my uncle. You've gotten soft in the city!"

"I . . ." For the first time, his air of sophistication seemed slightly artificial. Biggs stared at his polished boots, shifting his weight back and forth.

She stared at him until he managed to meet her eyes.

"I've missed you, Lucy."

Lucy flushed. "Well - things haven't been the same since you left," she said hastily. "It's been so . . . quiet."

Biggs' manner became outright surreptitious. He glanced over his shoulder suspiciously, as if expecting to find a blaster pointed at his back, then took a step closer to the girl. "Lucy," he whispered, "I didn't just come to say goodbye."

She looked uncomfortable, but held her ground. "You didn't?"

"No. I shouldn't tell you this, but - you're the only one I can trust, and - and if I don't come back, I want somebody to know why."

"What are you talking about?"

"I made some friends at the Academy." He dropped his voice still further. "When our frigate goes to one of the central systems, we're going to jump ship and join the Alliance."

Lucy's jaw dropped.

"I have a friend who . . . has a friend, on Bestine, who might help us make contact."

"You're crazy," Lucy hissed. "You could wander around forever trying to find them!"

"I know it's a long shot," Biggs said, "but if I don't find them, I'll do what I can on my own. It's what we always talked about, Lucy."

"When we were kids!"

He grinned, draping his arm around her shoulder. "I'm not going to wait for the Empire to draft me into service," he said firmly. "The Rebellion is spreading and I want to be on the right side. The side I believe in."

Lucy couldn't help but return his smile, though her voice was sharp. "So would I."

Biggs flinched.

"I'm lucky just to get this far from home," she added. "There's been a lot of unrest among the Sand People. Uncle Owen hardly lets me or Aunt Beru out of the house these days. They've even raided the outskirts of Anchorhead."

"Your uncle could hold off a whole colony of Sand People with one blaster," he said. "Look, if there's anything I can do to help - "

Lucy tilted her head back to look at him. "I have to get out of here, Biggs. I want to apply to the Academy."

"The Academy! But they don't let women in."

"They do sometimes, if you're good enough. There's an admiral - "

"Only if you know people."

She fell silent, scuffing the dirt with her boot. "I know," she said glumly.

"But you've got to do something, or you'll go mad. Does your uncle think he'll be able to keep you in that house forever?"

"Yes," said Lucy simply. "At least until I get married."

"Married!" Biggs gaped at her. "You, married? But - but you're not even eighteen!"

He didn't say what they both knew: that one of the local men might choose a young wife, but it certainly wouldn't be that strange, angry Skywalker girl with her nose in her datapad and her head in the clouds.

Lucy shrugged.

"He really hopes you'll marry someone here?"

"I think he was hoping I'd marry you," she said, cheering up.

Biggs gulped. "Uh - "

"Until you went off to the Academy, of course. He hasn't mentioned it since, so you don't have anything to worry about. Except getting killed by Imperials." She felt a flicker of envy and laughed. "I'd give my right arm to worry about that!"

He ruffled her blonde hair. "I'm not worried about them. My father might kill me, though. Or your uncle!"

"Uncle Owen just wants what's best for me," she said, with a distinct lack of conviction, and slapped his hand away.

Biggs sobered. "Probably. But you'll never get off this rock if he has his way."

Lucy knew that. She'd overheard enough to have a very good idea of what her uncle wanted for her. A nice, quiet, soul-crushing life on his farm, and then someone else's. After that, there'd be a family, and she could never get out. We have to keep her safe, he said. From what?

He always brought up her grandmother, but Shmi had been a farmer's wife just like he wanted Lucy to be, and that hadn't saved her. Aunt Beru had told her the whole story. There wouldn't even have been a body to bury, if not for her father's nerve and daring. Far better to live and die as he had - not safe, but free - than to disappear into the sand like her grandmother.

She looked back at Biggs. "Are you going to be around long?"

"No. I'm leaving in the morning."

"That early?" She blinked several times. "Then I guess I won't see you."

"Maybe - someday -" His hand tightened on her shoulder. "Who knows what could happen? I've been keeping up with the races, and there isn't a pilot in the Outer Rim that can touch you."

Lucy blushed and looked away. "I'm all right. I haven't tried anything really hard, though."

"Depends who's talking! You never taught me that trick you used to shoot down those womp rats." With a sigh, Biggs stepped back. "If you ever get out of here, I don't think you'll be hard to find. I'll keep an eye out."

"Take care of yourself, Biggs." Lucy forced herself to smile, lifting her eyes to his. "You'll always be the best friend I've got."

He was silent for a moment, lips pressed tightly together.

"So long, Lucy," he said finally, the words almost inaudible, and turned on his heel, hurrying back to the power station.

Lucy watched him go, the material of her skirt crumpling under her fingers. In that moment, she hated it - hated the thick homespun fabric brushing her ankles, hated the weight of the hair piled on her head, hated even her small breasts and hips, hated everything keeping her here while Biggs ran off to the Rebellion.

Not that it changed anything. Lucy sighed, trudging back to the landspeeder, and returned to her uncle's homestead.

Several days later, Lucy sat at the kitchen table, trying to fix their reconstitutor, while Beru kneaded dough for the next week's bread.

"This isn't fair!"

"It's not a droid, Lucy," said Beru, her mouth twitching. "You can't argue with it."

Lucy slammed her hydrospanner on the table. "I'm not talking about this! It's - it's everything! Fixer and Biggs can do whatever they want. They all can! Nobody even cares where Camie goes. Biggs himself always said I was a better pilot than any of them, but he's the first lieutenant on a starship and I'm still here and I can't get out and - "

"Ah. Biggs." Beru gave her a shrewd look. "His mother mentioned that he stopped by to visit his family. Did you see him at the station?"

"For a few minutes. He just wanted to say goodbye, before he - went away." To join the Alliance! If Biggs wanted to risk his life for what he thought was right, nobody could stop him. And there were rumours the Rebels had won a battle. They might even have a chance. But it wouldn't change anything for Lucy.

"I'm sorry," Beru said gently. "I know how much he means to you, Lucy; it's natural to be upset."

"I'm not - !"

Lucy forced herself to take a deep breath. It wasn't Beru's fault. Every freedom she had could probably be chalked up to her aunt's influence. But that didn't mean -

"He's my best friend and I'll miss him." Lucy picked the spanner up again and went back to work, just managing to keep her hands steady. "But that's not why I'm upset."

With one quick, discerning glance, Beru seemed to understand. "He said more than goodbye, didn't he?"

"Yes." Lucy twisted the spanner and a bolt fell into her other hand, staining her fingers. "Eurgh, what's all this gunk? No wonder you've been having problems with it. Where's the rag?"

"By the sink. I'd get it for you, but - "

"No, it's fine." She fetched the rag and returned to her chair, scrubbing at the machine.

"You were talking about the Darklighter boy, Lucy."

Lucy's gaze rose to meet her aunt's, then skittered away. "Biggs told me he's been keeping on eye on the records. For the races, I mean. He says that none of them come close to flying as well as I do. All those people spending their lives doing it, making money at it, and I'm stuck here even though I'm better than all of them. I can't even apply to the Academy. It's not fair!" She squeezed her eyes shut, willing them to stop burning, and opened them again. "It's not fair, Aunt Beru. It just isn't, and nothing you say can convince me it is."

"I wasn't going to try," said Beru.

Lucy blinked. "You weren't?"

"Sweetheart, I know it's not fair. You should be able to compete in the races, or start a career in the Academy, or join a freighter crew, if that's what makes you happy."

"Like Father," Lucy said, her face lighting up.

Beru looked half-affectionate, half-alarmed, as she always did when anyone mentioned Lucy's father. "Yes," she said thickly, "like your father. You're - very like him, Lucy. I know you can't be happy here, any more than he could. But we want more for you than what he had, and you're still so young."

"I'm seventeen!"

Beru laughed. "I know. It's a difficult enough age without being cooped up with an ancient creature like me."

"You're not old, Aunt Beru," Lucy said impatiently. "It's just that my friends have all left now, and since Uncle Owen doesn't want me working in the fields, it's not like I'm much help around the farm anyway. I know you're just trying to protect me, but I can't stay like this. I -"

A door slammed open and heavy booted footsteps approached. Lucy's mouth snapped shut.

"There's some Jawas outside selling droids," Owen said. "I could use one to help with the vaporators. Can we afford it?"

Beru considered.

"We got a good price on last week's barrels," said Lucy.

"Then we could get more than one?"

"It shouldn't be a problem," Beru told him. "Buy two, if you can bargain them down."

"All right." Owen's eyes fell on the appliance on his niece's lap. "Can you get that working again, Lucy?"

"There's just some junk in the machinery. I should have it fixed in a few minutes."

He nodded and returned outside. Beru finished kneading the dough and Lucy, cleaning the reconstitutor. She turned it on to make sure it was working again.

Beru jumped.

"Sorry, Aunt Beru." Lucy fumbled for the switch.

"No, it's not that. I've just remembered that if we get a translator, it needs to speak Bocce. Make sure your uncle knows, will you?"

"Sure."

Lucy sprang up and ran outside, easily catching up with Owen and passing on the message. He stopped by a bright gold protocol droid.

"What I really need is a droid that understands the binary language of moisture vaporators."

"Vaporators!" cried the droid. "Sir, my first job was programming binary load lifters - very similar to your vaporators. You could say - "

"Do you speak Bocce?"

"Of course I can, sir," the droid said eagerly. "It's like a second language for me! I'm as fluent in Bocce as - "

"All right, shut up," Owen snapped, and turned to the Jawa leader. "I'll take this one and - that one." He gestured at a red astrodroid.

The Jawa chattered something in reply, and Owen sighed.

"Lucy, take these over to the garage, will you? I want you to have both of them cleaned before dinner."

She scowled, then nodded and led them away, pausing only when the red droid began to spark wildly.

"Uncle Owen!" Lucy called out. "This unit has a bad motivator, look."

The protocol droid tapped her shoulder. "Excuse me, ma'am, but that R2 unit - " he pointed at another astrodroid, this one white with blue markings - "is in prime condition. A real bargain!"

With little further ado, the astrodroids were exchanged.

"I'm quite sure you'll be very pleased with that one," the protocol droid said, its intonation distinctly fussy. "He really is in first-class condition. I've worked with him before. Here he comes."

"Okay, let's go," Lucy said briskly, and led them off to the garage. It only took her a moment to prepare an oil bath for the protocol droid and a battery for the little astrodroid.

"Thank the Maker!" cried the former, his delight very nearly human. Lucy managed a weak smile as she slumped into her chair.

She'd always liked the garage. If any room could be considered Lucy's, it would be this one. It had felt peaceful and friendly, and nobody else ever spent much time there. But now, the quiet punctuated only by the chatter of droids, the low-hung ceilings, the monotonous grey of the paint, it all felt daunting, somehow, and bleak. The walls seemed to close in on her.

"It just isn't fair!" Lucy said again, and felt almost overcome by desperation. She had to escape, had to do something , but - "Biggs is right. I'm never going to get out of here."

"Is there anything I might do to help?"

She glanced up at the protocol droid and a reluctant smile crept onto her face. "Not unless you can teleport me off this rock!"

"I don't think so, ma'am. I'm only a droid and not very knowledgeable about such things," he said apologetically. "Not on this planet, anyways. As a matter of fact, I'm not even sure which planet I'm on."

"If there's a bright center of the universe," Lucy muttered, "you're on the planet that it's furthest from."

"I see, miss."

"You can call me Lucy," she told him.

"I see, Miss Lucy."

Lucy burst out laughing. "No, just Lucy," she said, and made her way over to the other droid, spanner in hand.

"I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations, and this is my counterpart, R2-D2."

She bit back another laugh and waved the spanner at the little astrodroid she was repairing. "Hello," she told it dryly, and received a cheerful beep in response.

Lucy took out a pick, scraping at the black marks on Artoo's casing.

"You've got a lot of carbon scoring here," she said aloud. "It looks like you two have seen a lot of action!"

Everyone had, apparently, except her.

"With all we've been through, sometimes I'm amazed we're in as good condition as we are!" replied Threepio, sounding as petulant as any robot could. Whoever had constructed him deserved credit for verisimilitude, at least. "What with the Rebellion and all."

Lucy whirled around. "You know of the Rebellion against the Empire? Have you been in many battles?" she cried.

Visions of starships and lasers and explosions danced before her eyes. Revolutions, fighter pilots, battles, it all seemed impossibly fantastic. But it had touched her life already. She could still hear Biggs whispering in her ear, explaining how he was going to give up everything to find the elusive Rebels and join them.

"Several, I think," Threepio said, his voice even more tragic than usual, then inexplicably added, "there's not much to tell. I'm not much more than an interpreter, and not very good at telling stories."

Lucy sighed and went back to Artoo, poking at a small metal fragment embedded in his casing.

"Well," she said, "you've got something jammed in here real good. Were you on a cruiser, or - "

The fragment snapped loose, sending Lucy tumbling backwards. She sat up, and a twelve-inch hologram appeared before her eyes.

Lucy's mouth dropped open.

The person in the hologram was a girl of about her own age, clad in a light, cowled robe, her hair coiled over her ears. With a pleading look, the girl reached out her hand.

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi," she said. "You're my only hope."


Chapter Two

Lucy rocked back on her heels, gaping. "What's this?" she cried.

The astrodroid somehow managed to look sheepish, and beeped.

"What is what?" Threepio said indignantly. "She asked you a question! What is that?"

The girl in the hologram crouched, reaching one hand out. "Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope," she said. "Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope. Help me - "

Artoo beeped again.

"Oh, he says it's nothing, ma'am," said Threepio. "Merely a malfunction. Old data. Pay it no mind."

Lucy sat back, considering the unknown girl. "Who is she? She looks so pretty and - and helpless."

"Er," Threepio said. "I'm afraid I'm not quite sure, ma'am. I think she was a passenger on our last voyage. A person of some importance, miss. I believe."

The recording continued to repeat itself. It seemed obviously incomplete - perhaps it had been damaged in some way. No surprise, considering Artoo's state. But there was enough to win Lucy's sympathy. She watched the hologram cycle through the message again, unable to miss the pleading and desperation in the girl's low voice.

Somebody had to do something, she thought, feeling as if she had become infected with the other girl's urgency. Lucy didn't know what any of this was about. She didn't know the girl. But somehow, that didn't seem to matter. She had to help her.

Besides, hadn't she longed for something to do? Something important? And now, this had all but fallen in her lap.

Threepio was still talking.

"Is there any more of this recording?" Lucy asked abruptly. She reached towards Artoo, and he let out a frantic squeal.

"Behave yourself, Artoo. You're going to get us into trouble!" Threepio hissed. Lucy bit back a smile. "It's all right, you can trust her. She's our new mistress!"

The astrodroid gave a long string of beeps and whistles.

"He says he's the property of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a resident of these parts. And it's a private message for him."

Lucy tilted her head to the side.

"Quite frankly, miss," Threepio said, "I don't know what he's talking about. Our last master was Captain Antilles, but with what we've been through, this little R2 unit has become a bit eccentric."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," she said thoughtfully. "I wonder if he means old Ben Kenobi?"

She knew old Ben - not well, but probably as well as anyone did. Years ago, she and Biggs had gotten lost in the desert, and it had been old Ben who found them and brought them home. She'd spoken to him once when she snuck off to Anchorhead, too - he happened to be passing through and didn't tell her aunt and uncle about it, which was enough to win her childish approval.

They'd happened across each other a few other times, too, in the ordinary course of things. But he was just a normal - well, just an odd old man. She couldn't believe that Ben's family could get caught up in something like this. She couldn't believe that he had family at all.

Threepio turned towards her hopefully. "I beg your pardon, ma'am, but do you know what he's talking about?"

"Well, I don't know anyone named Obi-Wan," Lucy said, getting to her feet and searching through her tools, "but old Ben lives out beyond the Dune Sea. He's a kind of strange old hermit."

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi -"

"I wonder who she is," Lucy said, glancing back down at the hologram. Again, she felt that inexplicable rush of concern and determination. "It sounds like she's in trouble."

Lucy looked into the girl's frantic dark eyes, and set her jaw. "I'd better play back the whole thing," she decided, and stalked over to Artoo. He gave a high, robotic wail.

"He says the restraining bolt has short-circuited his recording system," Threepio told her. Lucy sighed, looking back at the hologram.

I have to save her. I don't know why, but I have to. If I don't, something horrible's going to happen to her, I just know it is.

She tried to ignore the feeling that something horrible was going to happen anyway.

Threepio said something about removing the restraining bolt.

"Hm?" Lucy looked back at the droids, and grabbed a small bar off the table. "Well, I guess you're too small to run away on me if I take this off. Okay."

It was the work of a moment to wedge the bolt off. "There you go!" she said, and glanced down.

The hologram had disappeared.

"Where'd it go? Bring it back - play back the entire message!"

Artoo's beep managed to sound innocent, curious, and bewildered at the same time. Lucy glared and Threepio turned furiously on his companion.

"What message?" he cried. "The one you're carrying inside your rusty innards!"

Lucy opened her mouth to snarl at the little astrodroid, then shut it when she heard her aunt calling from another room.

"Lucy? Lucy! Come to dinner!"

"All right. I'll be right there, Aunt Beru!" Lucy shouted back, and shook her head.

Threepio turned towards her, his voice sounding fretful even for him. "I'm sorry, miss," he said miserably, "but he seems to have picked up a slight flutter."

Lucy tossed the bolt aside. "Well, see what you can do with him. I'll be right back," she said, and ran out.

Artoo blinked in his companion's general direction.

"Just you reconsider playing that message for her," Threepio told him.

He beeped plaintively.

"No, I don't think she likes you at all. And I don't like you either!"

After dinner, Lucy stomped away from the table, then stopped in her tracks.

She hadn't meant to pick a fight with her uncle. She never did. They just seemed to happen. It'd always been - it wasn't that he didn't care about her. She knew he did, and she loved him. But they'd never been able to understand each other very well, or even to get along. He was always trying to make her into something else, as if she were a doll that could just be carved into the right shape. And she -

Well, she knew she wasn't the niece he would have wanted. Not that he'd wanted one at all, and she was grateful for everything he'd done. She was just furious at the same time.

Lucy took a deep breath. She couldn't work like this. Her hands were still shaking. Instead of returning to the garage right away, she veered right and ran outside to watch the sunset.

Biggs always said that the stars didn't control anyone's life, yet these ones certainly controlled hers. They seemed so near, as if she could reach beyond them with the barest modicum of effort. Instead, she felt menaced by them, hopelessness eating at her as the radiance of the twin suns faded into darkness. Something in her recoiled from the sight, ominous in a way it had never been before, but Lucy kept her eyes fixed on the two stars, wind pulling at her skirts and hair.

Tatoo II vanished below the horizon. As if it had given her permission, Lucy finally looked away, wrapping her arms around herself.

That girl needed her. Lucy needed to help her, even if she didn't know why. But how could she help anyone? How could she even get out?

She sighed and went to finish cleaning the droids.

"I can't believe him," she muttered to herself. "He doesn't have to do this. He just wants to punish me! It's not f - "

The garage was silent. Lucy froze, her eyes darting from corner to corner, then grabbed her control box and turned it on.

Threepio yelped, popping up from behind the skyhopper.

Lucy stared. "What are you doing back there?"

"It wasn't my fault, ma'am!" he wailed. "Please don't deactivate me! I told him not to go, but he's - he's faulty, malfunctioning:kept babbling on about his mission."

"Oh no," breathed Lucy, rushing out of the garage and back outside. She grabbed her binoculars and peered all around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"How could I be so stupid? He's nowhere in sight," she said, and let the binoculars fall. "Blast it!"

"Pardon me, miss," Threepio said, sounding even more miserable than usual, "but couldn't we go after him?"

Lucy was already shaking her head. "It's too dangerous with all the Sand People around," she said practically. "We'll have to wait until morning."

Early in the morning, she thought; they'd have to leave before Owen realized she was gone.

She did wait, but slept poorly, and woke as soon as possible, pulling on a tunic and one of her only pairs of pants. Last night's lecture was more than enough for one week.

"Lucy?" Beru glanced up as her niece rushed towards the door. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Lucy almost kept running, but her cooler side prevailed. If anything happened, Owen and Beru would need to know where she'd gone. She stopped and turned around.

"I have some things to do before we get started today," she said vaguely.

"Well, be careful. The Sand People - "

"I'll be back before breakfast. Tell Uncle Owen, will you?" Lucy kissed her aunt's cheek and smiled at her. "I'll be all right, I promise."

She dashed out to the garage and picked up Threepio. Then she drove off without a backwards glance, relieved just to be flying again.

Her awkwardness on the ground always disappeared in the air. The wind, even as it pulled at a few loose tendrils of hair and screamed in her ears, was familiar, almost friendly; Lucy could feel the slightest change in the currents and respond as soon as it happened. Before it happened, sometimes, but that was mostly when she was younger and less skilled.

Beyond that, she understood machines. Everything she flew seemed like an extension of herself; with her hands on a wheel and her feet on the floor of a ship, even one as slight and unimpressive as this, she felt like she could rule the galaxy. Like she already did.

Lucy took a deep breath and released it, leaving Threepio to his trivial chatter while she kept her eyes on the sand, alert for a sign of anything suspicious. She could hardly miss an astrodroid as distinctive as Artoo, she reassured herself, and it shouldn't take long to catch up with him. After all, he could hardly walk, let alone fly.

"Look, there's a droid on the scanner!" she cried. "Dead ahead. It might be our little R2 unit. Hit the accelerator!"

Within a few minutes, they'd caught up with the droid - definitely an R2 unit - and she sprang out. Even with a coat of dust and grime, it was unmistakably Artoo.

"Hey, just where do you think you're going?" said Lucy, glowering at the droid.

He gave a feeble string of beeps.

"Mistress Lucy here is your rightful owner!" Threepio exclaimed. "We'll have no more of this Obi-Wan Kenobi gibberish!"

Artoo started to protest.

" - and don't talk to me about your mission! You're fortunate she doesn't blast you into a million pieces right here!"

Artoo gave an alarmed squawk and Lucy, turning to stare at Threepio, shook her head.

"No, no, it's all right," she said quickly, "but we'd better go."

Before she could even turn back to the landspeeder, however, Artoo had started beeping again, the sounds rising to shrieks as he wobbled back and forth. Lucy gave them an exasperated look.

"What's wrong now?"

"Oh my," said Threepio. "Ma'am, he says there are several creatures approaching from the southeast."

Lucy's eyes widened. She glanced over her shoulder - and saw nothing, but it didn't matter. She knew what was out there.

"Sand People!" She ran to the landspeeder and grabbed her laser rifle. "Or worse."

The rifle was one of the few pieces of machinery she'd learned to use because of her uncle, not in defiance of him. He'd taught her to shoot when she was a little girl, and insisted she carry the weapon with her whenever she left the homestead. Just in case, he always said.

Thanks, Uncle Owen, she thought, and returned to the droids. "Let's go have a look," she said briskly, then laughed when they stayed frozen in place. "Come on!"

Carefully, Lucy threaded her way up a rocky ridge and grabbed her binoculars, scanning the canyon. She could see two enormous banthas, but neither of them had any riders.

"There are two banthas down there, but I don't see any . . ." Lucy froze, catching a small raider at the edge of her vision. "Wait a second, they're Sand People, all right! I can see one of them now."

She tried to focus on the distant raider. Instead, the binoculars went dark and she looked up in alarm: a large Tusken Raider was looming over her. He howled, shaking his weapon.

Threepio backed right off the side of the cliff, bouncing and rattling on the way down; Lucy grabbed her rifle and leapt out of the way, blocking the raider's double-pointed gaderfii as well as she could. The rifle cracked.

Stupid, stupid -

She was scrambling back, rolling left and right as she tried to avoid the swinging gaderfii, then reaching out only to have her hands close on air. There was nowhere left to go.

The raider gave a cry of triumph, swinging his weapon in the air, and Lucy squeezed her eyes shut. The blow, when it came, was quick and precise, and she only managed one scream before slumping to the ground.

The Sand People dragged her back down the cliff and dropped her body near a dark alcove in the rock, while they went to ransack the landspeeder. Artoo, cowering in the back of the alcove, whirred to himself, then made small distressed sounds.

The raiders didn't seem to hear him. Several of them began pulling strips out of the landspeeder; Artoo could only rock in anxiety, his sensors fixed on the unconscious girl in front of him.

Then, something deeper in the canyon gave a great howling moan. The raiders stiffened, dropping their salvage, and fled as an indistinct brown figure slowly approached them. Artoo rolled a little back, his sensors darting across the canyon.

The figure - a man in a hooded brown robe - knelt beside Lucy's prone body, his hands dropping to her wrists. Then he reached up and pressed his fingers against her temples.

Artoo moaned.

The man turned towards him, pushing his hood off, and revealing a weathered, kindly face. He was an old man, or looked like one, with piercing blue eyes, a mop of untidy silver hair, and a small, neatly-trimmed white beard. He smiled at the little droid.

"Hello there!" he called out. Artoo trembled, emitting a low, warbling beep.

The old man gestured for him to approach.

"Come here, my little friend," he said, and his voice gentled. "Don't be afraid."

Artoo's sensors went back to Lucy. He beeped inquiringly.

"Oh, don't worry - she'll be all right," the man said. He dropped a hand on her shoulder and gave her a light shake.

The world swam before Lucy's eyes. She groaned, struggling to sit up, only vaguely aware of the hand supporting her back.

"Rest easy, child," he said, with a wry look. "You've had a busy day - you're fortunate to be all in one piece!"

Lucy rubbed her neck, then blinked several times, still trying to orient herself. Her gaze landed on the old man's face.

"Ben?" she exclaimed. "Ben Kenobi? Boy, am I glad to see you!"

At that, Artoo waddled out of the alcove as fast as his wheels would take him. Ben's expression turned reproving.

"The Jundland wastes are not to be travelled lightly," he told her.

Artoo, whose creator had evidently not seen fit to include any sense of self-preservation, gave a string of happy beeps and whistles. Lucy ignored him, clambering to her feet and leaning heavily on Ben as he helped her walk to a large rock, where she collapsed.

"Tell me, young Lucy, what brings you out so far?"

Lucy waved her hand at Artoo. "This little droid! I think he's searching for his former master - I've never seen such devotion in a droid before." Both humans looked at him, and Artoo gave a small, sad whine. Lucy turned back to Ben. "He claims to be the property of an Obi-Wan Kenobi. Is he a relative of yours? Do you know what he's talking about?"

Ben's eyes widened, and something very like dread came over his face. He sank down. "Obi-Wan Kenobi," he repeated, lingering on the syllables. "Obi-Wan. Now that's a name I haven't heard in a long time - a long time."

"I think my uncle knows him," said Lucy, remembering last night's quarrel. With a decided effort, she kept the familiar note of petulance out of her voice. "He said he was dead."

Ben shook his head. "Oh, he's not dead," he said, and then his old wry look came back. "Not yet."

"You know him?" asked Lucy, feeling that she couldn't be surprised by anything, at this point.

"Well, of course I know him." Ben chuckled and tapped his chest. "He's me!"

character: yoda, character: padmé amidala, character: beru whitesun lars, character: obi-wan kenobi, character: leia organa, character: luke skywalker, fic: lucy skywalker, fanverse: lucy skywalker, genre: fic, character: biggs darklighter, character: r2-d2, character: lucy skywalker, character: c-3po, fandom: star wars, character: owen lars, character: bail organa, genre: genderswap

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