This isn't exactly Tosche Station, huh?

Artoo had spent the evening dragging the rest of Luke's stuff onto the shuttle and prepping it for takeoff, so when Luke came trotting up to the shuttle in the early morning hours, there wasn't a way to stall for time.

For once, Luke was unhappy with Artoo's efficiency.

He ran a hand through his hair, cast one last look in the direction of the cabins, then blew out a breath and walked up the ramp.

"Let's go home, Artoo," he said quietly.

A few minutes later, even the contrail the shuttle had left in its wake had disappeared.

[OOC: And Luke's off for a galaxy far, far away. It's been a blast.]

Despite his best intentions and his promise to Rikku, Luke still found himself spending a lot more time alone in his room than normal.

He’d discovered that the amount of effort it took to show the rest of the world how Completely Fine he was during the day was exhausting.

It didn’t help that the entire month of August was like navigating a mined asteroid field: still reeling from Rory’s revelation about his parents, the anniversary of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru’s deaths hit him like a body blow.

Yesterday had been Alderaan Day back home. He’d pushed past his embarrassment and residual anger at Leia to call and check up, only to be greeted with a clipped “I’m fine,” and an “I’m sure you have more important things to be attending to.” The entire conversation had taken longer to connect than to conduct.

He didn’t blame her: he wasn’t exactly the poster boy for dealing well with issues these days. See also: avoiding thinking about the entire issue by spending most of last night in the common room watching mindless television.

He curled his legs up under him, batted away Artoo’s worried attempts to help, and stared off into nothingness. Today was the anniversary of Ben’s death. A few days from now was Biggs’.

Luke was beginning to wonder if the memories of last August were going to crush him entirely.

( Skywalkers and their emotions were never exactly what one would call subtle. )

[That Luke have a conversation with himself is FB, who with and what about not so much.]

Let It Be - The Beatles

A Jedi does not think, he knows.

Yoda's words rang in Luke's ears as he made his way towards the Imperial stronghold.

He blew out a slow, calming breath, and then approached the nearest Stormtrooper. "I'm here to surrender," he said, spreading his hands.

The Stormtrooper tilted his helmet, clearly confused, then slapped Luke into restraints.

"It's your lucky day, Rebel scum," the trooper told him. "Darth Vader himself is on his way down."

"I know," Luke said quietly. The trooper snorted. "Sure you did," he said.

Luke was gambling everything he had, everything he was, on his belief that his father could come back. He walked into the building with his shoulders straight and his head high.

It was time to see if he was right.

( And lo, Return of the Jedi happened. Yeah, all the way to the end. Ye be warned. )

[OOC: Preplayed, so no IC interaction possible. OOC feedback rather desperately craved. *sniffles*]

Leia was waiting for Luke when he was finally released from the bacta tank.

"You'll never do that again, right?" she said. "Tell me that you won't go up against Darth Vader on your own with a lightsaber and only the vaguest idea of how to work it?"

Luke pouted. "I know how it works," he protested weakly.

Leia crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Do I need to point to the med-droid who just gave you a new hand, Luke?"

Luke sighed. "No."

Leia looked at him for a long moment, then reached over and gave Luke a crushing hug. "Don't scare me like that again," she whispered fiercely in his ear. "I don't like coming back to a hundred frantic messages from you checking up on me and then finding out you tried to kill a Sith Lord by yourself."

Luke's face tightened. "I won't be trying that any time soon," he said finally, "but I have to go."

"Because the ghost of Ben Kenobi told you so?" Leia repeated, looking deeply skeptical. "We don't know what kind of pain killers they had you on in that clinic, Luke."

"He was real," Luke insisted, not for the first time. "And I have to go."

Leia sighed. "You're taking Artoo with you."

Luke blinked. "I am?"

"Someone needs to be able to fly the next time you get yourself into trouble," Leia said with a fond smile and a kiss on his forehead. "The rest of us are heading to the new rendezvous point. Take the ship—and Artoo—when you're cleared for duty." Her eyes darkened. "And call me if anything goes wrong. At the Falcon."

Luke blushed. "Because the comlink signals are blocked from space when you're hiding so the Empire can't find you," he recited sheepishly. "I'll remember next time."

Leia tousled his hair and kissed him again. "Be careful," she said.

Luke nodded. "I will be."

She gave him another lingering look then left the clinic.

Luke blew out a breath. Maybe Artoo would know where the Dagobah system was.

Luke hadn't been able to fall back to sleep after the dream...vision...thing he'd had last night.

He sat curled up in his blankets on his bed and watched the sun rise. Seeing just the one hadn't gotten less bizarre.

He'd skipped the party last night; he didn't really get the idea behind Halloween, hadn't had a costume anyway and had been a bit tired from learning how to swim (or at least how to keep from drowning). Besides, he'd already been social at the bonfire--s'mores were the best thing ever, he'd decided, though hot chocolate also sounded intriguing--and he needed to find a non-pink hat to wear before it got much colder. He'd also had fun talking with Lyra, Molly, Aeryn and John at Rory's birthday.

John. Luke stared out into space again, thinking back to last night. Had it been real? Could Jedi do something like that?

How would he bring it up in conversation anyway? "Hey, Aeryn, how's John's mother? Still alive and stuff?"

Too creepy. Bordering on "Mimas looks like the Death Star" creepy. He picked up the copy of The Art of War he'd borrowed from the library, and began flipping through the pages, hoping for a distraction.

[OOC: Mostly a linkdrop, but if the roomie's around...]

Sick Cycle Carousel - Lifehouse

Luke'd had a very long week.

He hadn't meant to traumatize almost every student he met (and there had been a lot of them), but he was still trying to wrap his head around the idea of his father being here a week ago. Pictures had helped, and the stories that people had begun telling him had been wonderful--Rory'd been especially great--but Luke was tired. (The gremlin show had been beyond strange, too. And that wasn't even counting the toaster. And the pink...thing. Or everyone who looked exactly the same.)

He'd begun wincing every time someone asked 'any relation?' at his last name. With the exception of Bel who'd told him that his father had been an ass--not exactly reassuring--everyone else seemed to take the loss of Anakin very, very hard.

Even classes hadn't been much of a respite (he'd managed to freak out Ms. Gilmore-Danes and the guy with the mask in Criminal Justice had given him a heart attack), though they'd introduced him to Teddy. Meeting a fellow newbie had been a relief (and Jello was neat! And jiggly!). And he was in a cool new club called NUKE. He wasn't planning on going out to Caritas with Parker any time soon, though. There was something in her eyes...besides, she'd told him not to jump off the roof. Who jumped off roofs for fun?

He flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling tiles. At least he wasn't in Ethics class.

After a very strange conversation with a girl in the third floor hallway--he hadn't caught her name-- and a very enlightening if not any more normal chat with Blair in the morning, Luke decided he needed to get some air.

His meanderings around town led him to the beach and he watched the waves crashing against the shore for hours, eyes full of wonder for so much water.

Too bad it would make it difficult to hear anyone coming up behind him.

[OOC: locked to That Guy.]