This is all new to me, I've never written for Star Wars before but it's one of my favourite franchises of all time. I've always been interested in the relationship between Luke and Vader so I've decided to write a story set in an alternative universe. I hope you'll all be kind and point out any mistakes I may have made.

As always I own nothing.

Summary: Luke has always dreamt of flying, to touch the stars-to be one of them. On his 12th Birthday he gets into an argument with his family and runs away, vowing to never return. His life is turned upside down when he is subjected to a strange new world full of creatures and unimaginable horrors he never thought possible. Thorugh if all, he wonders if he'll ever see his family again-little does he know, it's about to get a lot more complicated.

Prologue

A Hermits Wish

"Luke! Stay away from there!"

"No come here!" a voice shouted; a giggle followed shortly afterwards.

"Luke!" The voice shouted once more.

"Look Aunt Bewu, I'm a Banta!" His pale hands formed small horns above his head as he pranced around, giggling and smiling-his small feet kicking sand and small pebbles around as he played.

"Very funny Luke." She chuckled; he was growing up fast. At just 5 years old the young boy was as hyperactive and content as any other boy his age-secluded but happy that's the way she preferred it, that's the only way the boy would remain safe.

She fixed her eyes upon the youngling, although smaller than many his age he was most definitely brighter, his large sky-blue eyes reflected a childhood innocence not yet properly corrupted by the Empire's oppressive regime. But what frightened her was the fierce power behind them, hidden behind a chubby face and blonde hair was an eccentric boy who's thirst for knowledge and adventure made him impulsive and dangerous if not properly minded. His impulsivity had made her question whether or not it was a good idea to take him in-she often found herself wondering whether or not a nanny droid would be of any use. She highly doubted it, plus they didn't have the credits to spare for such endeavors.

His father's son. she thought bitterly, although the man she once called brother in law was but a distant memory to her, she was not naïve enough to forget the monster he'd become-Impulsive, possessive and oh so very dangerous. She'd do everything within her power to make sure that Luke never grew up into that same monster. It was simple nature versus nurture, right? she hoped she'd been an adequate surrogate mother-she couldn't ever replace that natural maternal bond that existed between all mothers and their offspring, but her methods were simplistic and humane atleast.

But Luke was not his Father, although impulsive and far more independent for one so young he was fiercely empathetic, something his father sorely lacked if she recalled- or so she'd read.

She looked over into the distance and rubbed her arms, even with the woolly mantel upon her aged shoulders she could tell it was getting late. The suns were casting their orange red glow upon the endless kilometres of sand dunes and mountains and soon the fire would snuff out into a deathly chill which trembled the bones of even the most experienced travellers. That was the way of life here, there was never much to see on Tatooine and for the most part it was a dry dust ball of golden sand and molten sun rays which cooked and aged the skin in such a way that left an endless feeling of fatigue and hopelessness. If it wasn't for the constant churning of the vaporators providing water to barren mouths-they'd have all been mummified by noon.

She focused her eyes back upon the boy, Soon it would be supper and the process would repeat itself again. Luke would awaken and tinker with some spare parts Owen had lying around, until he was promptly reprimanded for getting too close to dangerous machinery that is. She'd prepare dinner whilst Owen taught Luke all he needed to know about moisture vaporators and machinery, the boy was becoming quite the mechanic-a natural. Depending on whether or not the boy had behaved himself or finished his chores-which she thought he was too young to be doing in the first place, he'd sometimes be allowed to travel to the outskirts of Anchorhead with Owen to pick up droids. His reward would be to fix them, and he did a fantastic job at it.

Truly a gifted and intelligent youngling, he'd grow up to be a fine adult she knew only that.

"5 more minutes Luke and then it's supper!" She shouted, the boy waved back and ran a short distance around there homestead, but not too far as to run out of sight. He looked happy and for that she was glad. He'd been suffering a lot lately, nightmares plagued him almost every night and as a result he'd be in a horrible mood all day-she was just glad that today was one of Luke's good days. She managed a smile, keeping her eyes firmly locked on the boy-even play time was a danger, especially when there was the threat of Tuskin Raiders attacking or murdering someone. It didn't matter whether you were rich or poor, Twi'lek or Human the Tuskin Raiders didn't discriminate-enemy was enemy regardless of your species and she wouldn't hesitate to grab the nearest blaster if she so much as suspected a Tuskin anywhere near her Nephew.

"You've done a fine job at raising him Beru." There was a slight shuffle behind her, she tensed up on instinct. He made her feel uneasy and insignificant next to the likes of him. She wasn't entirely fond of him, his constant harassment and loitering made her feel terrified for the safety of the boy she was supposed to be protecting and nurturing. Owen on the other hand compared him to a five year long plague, descended from the highest power imaginable with the sole purpose of destroying their Nephew and making their lives the living embodiment of suffering-she on the other hand wasn't so dramatic. It didn't mean she liked him any less. She had her reasons of course-and not ones she cared to repeat. She only wished he'd dispense with the pleasantries and make his intentions known, because this was becoming a little creepy.

"You should be thanking Owen, Ben." she mumbled.

Ben rubbed his aging beard in thought, his once vibrant auburn hair now facing the consequences of years under the Tatooine suns. "Perhaps I should." He mumbled, there was a pause "How is Owen keeping?" he asked, he managed a cheerful smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

She tried her best to refrain from rolling her eyes at him. For a former Jedi Ben could be quite passive aggressive, she knew he didn't care for her husband anymore than he did her—he only cared about one thing and that was Luke. It would work solely in his favour if anything were to happen to them both. His pleasantries were merely a facade of formality.

"The same as always. We're barely getting by, the Empire continues to raise Outer Rim taxes and the Hutt's just allow it, we're lucky we can still feed and clothe the boy." She wasn't lying, in the short 5 years since the Empire was formed out of the disaster that was the Clone Wars and the fall of the republic, the Empire had made a drastic leap towards controlling more Outer Rim planets; Tatooine included.

Rumours were that the Emporer had deployed Darth Vader to Tatooine to form an alliance with the Hutts in exchange for contraband and an effective way to reboot slavery—through a third party of course, but the truth of that is likely to never be properly validated.

"And the boy?" he asked

She turned to him and fixed him with a weary gaze "He's hardly your concern Ben." She replied back with the slightest hint of acidity to her voice.

His grey eyes burrowed into hers, she flinched back slightly at the hurt that flashed through them "I promised I'd watch over him." He stated.

She turned her back to him "You seem to be under the illusion that you've been doing a fine job at that." She muttered.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Ben always made her feel uncomfortable she could just never figure the old man out; he didn't really have a reason to continuously make his presence known, he'd always seemed to loiter around for far too long and that made her feel uneasy.

"I do as I must." He replied.

"I can see that." There was a pause "Why are you here Ben? Or should I call you Obi Wan? Anyone with half a brain can see that." Her passive aggressive tendencies could only get her so far before Owen would show up and cause yet another scene and the last thing she wanted was for Luke to be caught in the middle of it.

"No one knows I'm here and it will remain that way." She spun around to stare at him, his delusion never ceases to astound her, if anything it infuriated her. She was grateful that the man had brought Luke to them to protect but Ben wasn't even trying to hide who he used to be, he still wore the fine Jedi robes that she'd seen all over the HoloNet during the Clone Wars—granted they'd been stained, torn and aged by his long exile here on Tatooine. The locals weren't nearly as stupid as the galaxy had made them out to be; someone somewhere would know and it was only a matter of time before they came for her Nephew and she'd be damned if she let anyone lay a finger on that boy.

"For now. Look at you prancing around in your Jedi robes have you no shame! You're delusional as always Ben it'll only take one person to piece it together and then you'll bring the entire imperial fleet down upon us." She hissed pointing an accusing finger at him—her eyes like cold calculating daggers bore holes into his frail aged form.

He frowned "These people are illiterate Beru, half of them have never seen Coruscant let alone a Jedi, the boy is safe here." He explained

She glared "Enough of that! Owen has told you before that we do not require your protection." She tried to reason with the man, she always did. It was just that Ben chose not to listen—he was stubborn and relentless in his stalking. One day he'd get someone killed.

He raised his hands defensively "I'm not offering it; I'm only keeping the boy safe." He tried to reason.

"He does not need it! Do you not get that? You're playing a dangerous game Ben a game you cannot win; I will not allow you to continue to show your face here again!" She snapped, her patience running severely thin, she'd had this same argument every week with the man. It got so bad that her husband would get into physical altercations with Ben—she'd end up having to rush the crying youngling inside away from the brutal punching and kicking. She was fed up of it.

"That is not yours to decide." He replied

"I made a promise Ben, I promised to protect and nurture that boy and I will continue to do so until my dying breath, by continuing to show your face here you are putting him and us in grave danger, now do the galaxy a favour and stay out of Skywalker affairs before you poison another." She snapped, her temper and frustration reached a molten fury which threatened to bubble over and cause an explosion. She wouldn't turn into Owen, she forbid it. She would not get physical with Ben—that little boy was staying here whether the hermit liked it or not, he handed over all rights to the boy when he brought him to them.

She sighed and rubbed her sore temples,she could feel a killer migraine forming, kicking and scratching at her temples—if the suns didn't age her then Ben Kenobi surely would. "Please, leave the boy alone." She pleaded.

"Aunt Beru why are you so sad?" A small voice asked, she broke away from the man gaze to stare down at the youngling, he held a toy T-16 Skyhopper firmly to his chest, his blonde hair matted and sweaty and his clothes filthy from playing. He passed a look of worry between herself and the tall stranger— he tapped his fingers nervously against his toy, an anxious habit she noted.

She smiled and held one of Luke's small hands in her larger one "Do I look sad Luke?" she questioned.

He shook his head "Nah ah I felt it right here." He removed his hand from her grasp and pointed to his chest "I was playing and—and I suddenly felt you were sad." He explained "In my heart."

She frowned "Thank you for your concern Luke but I am fine, why don't you go inside and help Uncle Owen? I will join you shortly for supper." she gently motioned the boy inside, watching as he disappeared inside the homestead.

How had he done that? she knew that Luke was a very special child ever since the moment she'd laid eyes on his chubby little face.

This wasn't the first time something like this had happened—when he was two, she'd caught him levitating his breakfast cup a full meter of the ground. It had frightened her so much that she'd screamed at the poor boy causing him to drop the cup sending blue milk everywhere. Then at three he'd dreamed of his father and himself playing in the desert whilst having no prior knowledge of him—and now he could feel what she was feeling? When would this stop? Would it ever stop? Or would it continue to get worse the older he got? it sure felt like it.

She'd make sure he never developed it further for his own safety. The last thing she needed was for the boy to be taken away from her by the empire. It was the only way to keep him safe.

"The Force is extremely strong with him Beru, I can feel it." Ben broke her out of her thoughts.

She turned to him and glared "Don't speak of it." She snapped "Never speak of it." She hissed back and walked away from the man to seethe.

She walked towards the homestead and fixed him with one last furious glare.

"It is late, I hope you'll heed our warning and never return here again, but I doubt you care enough to do so." She muttered, fixing her mantle in a better position over her shoulders.

He reached out to grab her, but she flinched away, his grey eyes pleading—no, begging "But the boy is strong even you can see it! If you'd only let me train him I co-"Ben pleaded

"No!" she yelled, abruptly cutting the man off from—she couldn't bear to hear anymore of his foolish ideals of using that boy as a weapon for whatever petty revenge he felt, she was over it.

"I will not allow you to poison his mind with Jedi propaganda, the Jedi are gone Ben every single one of them slaughtered, you told me yourself. I watched the HoloNet. I will not allow him to become another corpse piled up and rotting at the entrance to the imperial palace, take your crusade elsewhere because I'm over it." she teared up in frustration her eyes burned and her heart ached at the thought, Luke was no Jedi and so long as he lived under the Lars protection he never will be, it was for his own safety and she valued that far more than Ben did—she knew that fact as well as she knew her own face.

She would not allow Ben to use the boy for his own selfish crusade. Owen had warned her of this many times and she was quite frankly exhausted—both mentally and physically, what had she gotten herself into? Ever since Luke had come to live with them his very presence in their lives caused unnecessary strain.

The former Jedi let his guard slip for only a minute, but it was enough for her to see that the stress and trauma had aged the man and not gracefully either.

The once bright strong witted negotiator of the Clone Wars had now wasted away to nothing more than a shallow shell of his former self— plagued by regret and a deep sense of responsibility. His skeletal, tanned figure was nothing more than thin sheets of paper under a tattered clock. Her eyes watered as she abruptly turned away from him. Is this what being a Jedi did to a person? Did it only create broken angry people? If so she was glad that Luke would never be subjected to such a mundane existence.

She couldn't bear it for another minute. She didn't understand why he wouldn't just leave then alone—was it guilt? Did he feel guilty for what had happened to the Jedi? He looked tired – no frail, a frail old man who'd lost his purpose in life and allowed guilt and melancholy to eat at his soul and fester like an untreated wound.

She could almost sympathise as her husband, in a way, had lost his brother—just as Obi Wan had lost his. So in a way that explained his bizarre obsession with her charge—but didn't make her feel any better.

"Tell me, why? Why him?" she found herself asking.

"He is all I have left—I won't fail him, he is our last hope." He muttered back. It made sense now, Luke represented hope—hope for the future, hope for an end to oppression and ruthless indignation, slavery and dictatorship. Luke was the Bacta patch that was destined to heal a 5 year long wound which had festered for far too long.

It made sense, and yet she hated that his life was destined to become a complicated jumble just like his fathers—no, she forbade it, Luke wasn't anybody's last hope. He was Luke Lars, moisture farmer—he would grow up to be happy, grow up to be normal, his life was his own and not for Ben to dictate.

She wiped her wet eyes on her sleeve and composed herself "Sleep well Master Kenobi." She muttered and made her leave.

Hope….

I really hope you enjoyed it, please review and tell me what you think I do very much enjoy feedback. :)