DISCLAIMER: STAR WARS, THE CHARACTERS OF, AND ALL OTHER RELATED SUBJECTS AND MEDIA ARE THE PROPERTY OF LUCAS ARTS AND THE WALT DISNEY CORPORATION. THE ONLY THING I OWN IS THE SCENARIO. PLEASE DON'T SUE ME. THANK YOU.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: SO, ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE EMPIRE HAS KIND OF DIED. I TRIED TO KEEP WRITING, BUT WHEN THE WELL IS DRY, THE WELL IS DRY. BUT, I HAVE THIS AT LEAST. AIN'T THAT GRAND? ANYWAY, THIS ISN'T NEARLY AS AU AS THE LAST ONE. THOUGH IT DOES INCLUDE SOME CERTAINLY DIFFERENT SITUATIONS. I.E.: STARKILLER, VADER'S COU-OOPS! ALMOST GAVE AWAY SOME MAJOR ANSWERS. CAN'T BE DOING THAT, CAN I? ANYWAY, I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE STORY. I CERTAINLY HAD TO POUR SOME WORK INTO IT. REVIEWS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME. ANYWHO, HAVE FUN!

Chapter 1: Empire Day

TATOOINE, 9 BBY…

Anchorhead was often a very boring place. The small town was already out of the way, not to say that there was anything on the planet wasn't out of the way, but the people who came through there were just as boring as the town. Mostly just other moisture farmers, and a few other merchants. Not even the Hutt really bothered with the place, as there was no one there whose assets warranted the credit for any kind of reliable loans. The most interesting thing in town was the garrison of Imperial Stormtroopers in the middle of the town, which had been established in response to the intense concentration of attacks on the farming lands by Raiders.

At only ten standard years, Luke Skywalker was too young to help his uncle, Owen Lars, run the family moisture farm. But, being the pecuniary man he was, Owen was determined that the boy would contribute to the family income one way or another. This is how to work at a small cantina in Anchorhead. The owner and bartender of the place, Lux Dunstrom, was a friend of his uncle's, and after some discussion, Owen had gotten him to let Luke work as an assistant there until he was old enough to start working the vaporators. The deal hadn't been quite as lucrative as Owen had hoped, with the end agreement being that Luke's only pay would come from any tips he collected. It wasn't much, but Owen took it all the same. After all, even when in small amounts, money wasn't an easy thing to come by in Anchorhead.

Luke picked up on the waiting business fairly quick, and he took to it with relative enthusiasm. It certainly wasn't his dream job, but it definitely beat moisture farming. The clientele were fairly interesting, in stark contrast to the surrounding town, but this was attributable to the fact that a good 95 percent of their customers were Stormtroopers from the outpost that was located directly across the street from the cantina. Since Imperial Army rations were enough to turn a womp rat ill, the cantina's proximity and relatively low prices made it a hot spot for Stormtroopers to have a good meal when they had the time. They weren't as mean as Uncle Owen had made them out to be. As long as you got their order down right, and got their meal to them with relative expedience, they were pretty cool. As a matter of fact, Luke had almost become a kind of acquaintance to those who were regulars at the restaurant. This was helpful, as while the Stormtroopers weren't cruel, they certainly weren't ones for leaving tips.

It was about six months into his work his work there, and business had been quite slow that day. It was then that a rather abnormal trooper walked into the cantina. Unlike his compatriots, the armor he wore was black, rather than the standard imperial white. He took a seat by the window, and placed his helmet on the table. Luke grabbed a holopad with the menu on it before making his way over to this most recent customer.

"Good afternoon, sir." Luke said, handing the menu to the black-clad trooper.

The soldier stared at him for a minute or two, looking the boy up and down.

"Kid, shouldn't you be in school?" He asked.

"It's not too common for anyone to be in school around here." Luke replied, "When you're pretty much condemned to a set career the moment you're born, there's not a whole lot of need for an education."

"I see." Said the soldier, "So I take it you're my waiter?"

"Yes sir, I am." Luke said, perking up in pride.

"Well if that's the case, then I'd better order." The trooper joked, pulling a small giggle out of Luke.

"I suppose so." Luke replied.

"So, I hear the Bantha Burgers here are pretty good." The trooper said.

"Yes sir, the best in town." Luke said.

"Then I think I'll have one of those." The trooper said.

"Alrighty, sir. So, a Bantha Burger." Luke said as he jotted the order down, "And how would you like that done?"

"Medium." The soldier replied.

"So a Bantha Burger, cooked medium, and what would you like to drink with that?" Luke asked.

"I'll take the Blue Milkshake." The trooper replied.

Luke put the order, "So a medium Bantha Burger and a Blue Milkshake?"

"That's right." The soldier replied.

Luke pressed the send button on the holopad, and the order was sent back to Lux in the kitchen. The boy turned to go, but the trooper stopped him.

"Say, I don't see any other customers here." The man said.

"Well thanks." Luke said, rolling his eyes.

"No, I don't mean it like that." The soldier explained, "Now I happen to be here all by myself, as you can see, and you seem like you're not a half bad conversationalist. So why not stay and chat a minute."

The proposition took Luke by surprise. A Stormtrooper wanted to talk to him? And not because he had done something wrong? It was certainly odd. On second thought, Aunt Beru had warned him that there were some creepy bad men out there, and that if he were to meet one, he should run. Was this one of those times? But then again, the guy was a Stormtrooper, if he wanted to do something bad, he could just do it outright. He decided it was in his best interests to take the man up on his offer. He cautiously slid into the booth across from the soldier.

"So do your parents own this place, or what?" He asked.

"No." Luke said, "I'm just a paid assistant. The owner is a friend of my uncle, and my uncle talked him into him into letting me work here."

"How old are you, kid?" The soldier asked.

"Ten" Luke said, "Ten standard."

"Damn. Ten years old and already working. How much they paying you?" The man asked.

"Technically nothing." Luke replied, "I work for tips only."

The two sat there quiet for a minute.

"I'm sorry if I'm being presumptuous, sir, but can I ask you a question?" Luke asked.

"Sure." The soldier replied.

"All the Stormtroopers that come in here have white armor, but you don't. Why?" asked Luke.

"Well for one, I'm not a Stormtrooper." The soldier replied.

"You're not?" Luke asked, confused.

"No, I'm a TIE Pilot." The man explained.

Luke eyes lit up upon hearing the last bit. Excitement filled him, and a million new questions came to his mind.

"Really?" Luke asked, amazed.

"Yeah, really." Said the pilot.

"That's so cool!" Luke said, almost shouting, "What's it like?"

"Well its certainly as interesting job," The pilot said, "You meet lots of new people, see lots of different places."

Luke's jaw was almost on the table from his open smile.

"Wow." He said, "How many different planets have you been to?"

"Oh, I couldn't remember if I tried." Said the Pilot, "But I can tell you that I've been to allot of them."

A buzzer went off over by the kitchen. A meal sat under the incubator. Luke got up from the table, and rushed over to grab it. He carefully transferred the food and drink onto a tray and brought it back to the pilot.

"Well, here's your meal, sir." Luke said, placing the plate and cup in front of their most interesting customer.

"Thanks, kid." The pilot replied.

"Being a pilot sounds so cool." Luke said, "I've always wanted to be one of those, you know."

This interested the pilot, "Really, now?" he asked.

"Oh, yes sir. Ever since I could remember." Luke explained, "I've got at least ten different models, and a dozen different manuals…I've never actually seen a real one though."

"Well that's a shame." The pilot said, "You know this gives me an idea."

"It does?" Luke asked, not understanding the man.

"Yep. How about, after I'm done eating here, we run over to the hanger, and I show you a real one."

"Wow, you'd do that!?" asked Luke.

"Sure. After all, for I know, you could be working there sometime soon." The pilot said.

"That would be so-Oh, wait." Luke said, becoming very disappointed, "I can't go, I gotta work."

"No you don't. The street's been closed because the governor's visiting the outpost." The pilot explained. "You won't be getting any more customers today."

"Oh." Luke said, the smile returning to his face.

"You know, kid." The pilot said, "I never got your name."

"My name?" Luke asked, the gears of his mind steaming in secret. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had told him not to tell any of the imperials his last name. But this one was nice. But his aunt and uncle had been really urgent about it. Perhaps he could just get away with no telling him.

"Yeah, your name. You know, whatever it is people call you."

"Luke, sir." Luke stammered out.

"Well, Luke, I'm Lieutenant Garret Pax, and it's nice to make your acquaintance" The pilot said, laughing a little. "Though it's probably bets if you just continued to call me 'sir'"

"Yes, sir." Luke replied.

Lieutenant Pax finished his meal, and headed for the door.

"Well, kid?" he asked, "Aren't you coming?"

Luke slapped himself on the forehead, jumped out of his seat, and ran after his new friend.

'This is going to be so cool.' Luke thought, as they made their way over to the hangar.

3 YEARS LATER…

Luke loved the Empire Day, mostly for the big show they held in town. Most people didn't. Aunt Beru called it brainwashing. Uncle Owen called it bantha shit. Both were assertions with which Luke's best friend, Biggs Darklighter, heartily agreed. None of that mattered to him though, and Luke continued on loving it just the same.

Attendance was mandatory, of course. There were census officers who marked a list of all those who showed up to the annual event, supposedly so those who kept up a good record of attendance could be rewarded. No one believed it though, not even Luke. The real reason, as everyone and their brother knew, was to locate and punish those individuals that did not attend. Failure to appear at the celebration was usually deemed as behavior threatening to the Empire, so those who did so were often never seen or heard of again.

Things hadn't always been so tight though. This never would have happened five years earlier. Empire Day wasn't even celebrated then. But the governor's visit to the town had changed allot of things. When the governor had gotten to Anchorhead, she was appalled by the lack of imperial involvement or control. The officials who had previously been in charge of the small farm town were arrested and disposed of. Child labor was illegalized, effectively putting Luke out of a job, and upsetting Uncle Owen very, very much. Imperial-curriculum schooling was made compulsory for all children of the district, a decision that all the children were disgruntled by. Lastly, an Imperial Auditorium was built near the middle of town, a block or two away from the already existing outpost. It wasn't a nice building. It was a tall box-like building, with a dome atop of it. Made entirely of dull, lifeless, depressing grey concrete, the eyesore towered above any other building in town, save the outpost. It was odd, the amount of attention the Empire had given their small town. Well, maybe not that odd. Save for passers-through, Anchorhead's population was entirely human, and the Empire did have a policy of human-supremacy. Therefore, on a planet where humans actually tended to be a minority, Anchorhead was like a diamond long hidden in the rough as far as the Imperial Tatooinian government was concerned. Ever since discovering the town's racial purity, it had become the crown jewel of desert planet. Hence the expense of building an entire auditorium, and the intense pressure on the indoctrination of the town's youth into the Imperial mind-set.

Currently, The Lars family was waiting in the line to get through the door. By the door, there was a table where two officers sat. They were the census officers, in charge of getting the identification of all the citizens in attendance. As each person approached the table, they handed over their papers. The officers would look them over, and search for any irregularities. If there were any to be found, four Stormtroopers stood nearby, and the citizen would be taken for questioning.

Owen was the first to come to the table.

"Name?" The officer sternly asked.

"Owen Lars." Owen answered.

"Papers." The officer said.

Owen took his identification papers out of his pocket, and unfolded them. He handed the papers to the officer, and the officer looked them over. His eyes wandered over the documents. He looked up to Owen, the back to the papers, then back up to Owen. The officer handed the papers back.

"You're clear. Move along." He ordered.

Beru shuffled up after Owen passed through.

"Name?" asked the officer.

"Beru Lars." She answered.

"Papers." He said.

Beru handed him the papers which she had been holding delicately in her hands. He looked them over, then looked back to her, and back, and so forth. He cleared her and she moved along.

Luke was the last to approach.

"Name?" The officer asked.

"Luke Skywalker." Luke answered.

The officer twitched a little, "Papers please?"

Luke handed him his papers. The officer looked them over, and got the attention of his fellow. The other cross examined the papers. Every once and a while they would glance back to him, before discussing some more amongst themselves. Luke sighed. This happened every year. It just so happened that his father shared a name with a famous Jedi Knight from before the Empire. One would think that in a galaxy with an almost uncountable population, repeating names would be common. But when your name is the same as an enemy of the state, I suppose it makes things different. After more cross examination, the officers decided that Luke was clearable.

"You're clear." The first officer spoke, handing Luke back his papers, "However, we recommend that you visit the Ministry of Registration and have your last name changed to that of your legal guardians."

"Yes, sir." Luke said begrudgingly.

The second officer noted the boy's disappointment, "I'm sorry." He said, "But can we hear a little more pep in that?"

Luke stood up straight, and put on his best smile, and repeated himself, "Yes, sir!"

"That's better." The officer said, "Now, move along."

Luke nodded and rushed in after his aunt and uncle, who were waiting for him in the lobby.

"What took you so long?" Owen asked.

"The usual." Luke answered.

"Damn it, Luke. How many times have I told you that we have to get your name changed?" Owen asked, angered by the constant pest of Imperial suspicion, and the boys refusal to conform to him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Luke said, stubborn against his uncle's attempts at intimidation and persuasion, "But I've told you a million times, that I'm not changing it. If I change it how is my dad ever supposed to find me?"

Owen stepped forward, as if he was going to apply some discipline, until Beru stepped in and stopped him.

"Now, stop it. The both of you." She said, "You're making a scene, and there are officers standing all around here. Do you really want to get us in trouble?"

Owen grunted, and stormed off. Likely to go chat with a few of the townsfolk who came closest to being something relative to a friend. Luke turned away, refusing to look at either of them. Beru sighed.

"Luke," she said, "You've got to realize that he's not coming back."

"What do you know." Luke said, hushed under his breath.

"Luke," Beru began, putting her hand on the teen's shoulder.

"No." Luke said, jerking away from his surrogate mother, "Neither of you know. All either of you want to do is keep me tied up on that stupid farm!"

"Luke, it's for your own good!" Beru pleaded

"I don't care! Maybe I want to be able decide what's for my good on my own. Has that ever occurred to you?" Luke pressured her.

"Luke, just listen to me." She begged him.

"Well, Aunt Beru, has it? Has it ever occurred to you, has it ever occurred to either of you?" Luke continued his interrogation.

Beru was silent for a while. "Yes, Luke." She said, quiet, tears creeping into her eyes, "It has occurred to me. It's occurred to me so many times that it hurts."

Luke's anger faded.

"And it hurts me that you think I wouldn't, Luke." She continued, "It really does hurt me. It hurts me in my heart."

Luke stared at her as she began to cry. He looked down, and rushed to hug her, which she generously accepted.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blow up like that." He muttered to himself.

"It's okay, Luke. I don't blame you." She said, "You deserve to be able to be your own person. It's just your Uncle, he doesn't understand."

Then the speaker crackled to life.

'Attention!" the stern and metallic voice boomed, "Attention please! We will now begin seating all persons in the 13-17 age group. All persons of the 14-16 age group report to the screen chamber immediately."

The speaker began to play the Imperial Victory March.

"Well, that's me." Luke said, pulling away, albeit unhappily, from the hug.

"I know. Be careful." Beru said.

Luke began to make his way to the stairs leading to three big doors, when Aunt Beru stopped him.

"And, Luke." She added, "If you do decide to do something…just know that I'll be behind you."

Luke nodded and made his way to the theater with the rest of the children his age.

The theater was a dark place, just as dull as the rest of the building. It had a very eerie feel to it though. There were no lights save for the few dim red lanterns lining the sides of the massive chamber. The room was truly huge, with enough rows of seats to fit in the entire town. Rows upon rows of seats. There was a large flat screen at the front of the room, upon which the big show would be played. To both its left and its right hung two great flags bearing the symbol of the Galactic Empire. The youths, the age group of 13-17, were always seated up front, as they were the ones whose indoctrination was most important to the Empire on Tatooine. They were to be the very first batch of new young Imperials that would be baked in the oven of the massively funded Anchorhead Purity project. They were, so they were told, the greatest generation ever to be born of this world. The adults soon shuffled in after them, filling the rest of the auditorium. The younger children were taken off somewhere else, presumably to receive a more age appropriate service. The side lights dimmed into nothing, and an image began to flicker on the giant screen. The image was of the Imperial Flag standing tall, and waving valiantly in a gentle breeze. A gentle and wise voice materialized from all around.

"All stand for the anthem of our Empire." It said.

The whole theater stood. The anthem began with a loud boom of brass, and then a sweet and moving harmony of strings, and finally the voice of a single woman appeared and began to sing.

Mighty Savior, ruler of all!

Fighting the fight for that we shall not fall!

We free people will be ceaselessly drived,

To keep our glorious utopia alive!

Fly high the banners,

Take joy and sing!

Never has such great union been seen!

Then the brass joined the strings, and worked their way up to a climax, preparing for a mighty crescendo, where they were joined by a great and powerful pipe organ, and the sole female voice joined by a choir of men, women, and children alike.

Oh Empire!

Oh Empire!

OH EMPIRE!

Praise to thee!

All our thoughts!

All our prayers!

Are to thee!

The brass, organ, and choir faded, now left was only the light and majestic strings, a single male voice, a single female voice, and a single child voice.

First the man.

All our thoughts!

Then he faded, replaced by the woman.

All our prayers!

Finally the child

Are to thee!

The child held his (or her) final note until the strings died out, where upon the child faded soon after, followed by the image of the waving flag.

The audience applauded, and uniformly took their seats once again. A new image appeared on the screen, now of massive crop harvests. The first voice returned.

"This is our Empire." The voice spoke.

The image now changed to a collection of young, fit, athletic humans staring boldly into the distance.

"These are our people." The voice said, "The builders. The thinkers. The hard honest workers. In the farms. In the factories. In the schools. In the labs. In the courts. In the army."

Luke dazed off, as the narrator rambled on of how wonderful the Empire was. He truly enjoyed the Empire Day celebration, but it wasn't for the high-flown speeches and feigned patriotism. He came for the scenes of battle that would play, especially the dog fights. He loved that part dearly. He gazed up, eyes wide and gleaming, a smile forming as his mouth fell just slightly open, as he watched the TIE's rush about dueling with their enemy X-Wings. Blasters raging, the trademark sound of their engines filling the theatre. It filled Luke with a joy that was almost indescribable. So had been the case ever since that day when Lieutenant Pax had shown him the hangar. He had become absolutely smitten with them from the moment he stood before it. He subscribed to a fighter enthusiast association, and received updates on all the new models. He knew each of the ones in services. The standards. The bombers. His favorite, however, were the Interceptors. Their sleek design, forward extended, pointed wings. Their speed. Their shields. Everything about the Interceptor line was superior, and for that he adored it. He would do anything to be up there, flying into battle. Or just flying in general. Though he certainly would prefer for it to be for the Empire. Most of his friends were very Rebel-leaning, but Luke had met many Stormtroopers in his time at the cantina, and they really weren't as bad as Biggs and Uncle Owen had made them out to be.

Soon however, something new came to the screen, something that grabbed the attention, respect, and fear of everyone in the room. No one knew what the scariest part about him was. The inhuman black armor? The heavy robotic breathing? His tall and imposing figure? No one knew for sure. All they knew was that Darth Vader terrified them. It seemed that the Empire knew this too, as they did everything in their power to magnify the commander's oppressive presence. He was standing at a podium, great flood lights cast upon him from above and below, as he updated the public on the progress of the 'War on Treason' as the Empire had named it.

"On every front, the Rebels flee before us!" his deep, booming voice proclaimed.

"The Empire calls upon all who would serve." He continued, "Join the fight to end the treasonous Rebellion today!"

The video cut to a massive collection of Stormtroopers, pilots, officers, and more. All in militaristically uniformed lines. All with fists raised up high, shouting the imperial salute.

"Hail Imperium!" They all shouted in one great voice, the sheer volume shaking the walls of the theatre.

The instrumental of the anthem again began to play, and the waving flag returned to the screen.

"This is our Empire." The narrator repeated, "It keeps you safe in day and at night. It provides for you. It cares for you. It love you. All it requires if your obedience. All you must do is trust your Empire, believe in your Empire, love your Empire. With that, there is nothing that can stop us. Long live humanity, long live the Empire!"

A male choir came again to the speakers reprised the anthem, followed by a fantastic outro lead by the brass and the pipe organ. The screen faded to black, and the lamps returned to life. The audience stood for applause. The commanding officer, a straight-laced woman with starched blonde hair walked in front of the group of hundreds.

"We will first begin exiting with the youth group, ages 13 to 17!" She shouted, "All persons in Youth Group will exit through those doors to the left! All persons in Youth Group, proceed through those doors!"

The group got up and shuffled through. They were always lead out through a presumably different path than the adults. Along the corridor they exited through were tables and booths for different Imperial services. The army, etcetera. The walls were plastered with all sorts of enlistment posters. The usual kind that you could see on street corners. Most of them featuring Vader, or Palpatine. They would always be accompanied by an entire army of adoring Stormtroopers.

Luke already had a destination in mind however. The Flight Academy. That was where you went to become a TIE pilot. Luke had tried to sign up, quite illegally, ever since he was 13 years old. He was so persistent with his efforts that the imperial offices in Anchorhead practically knew him by name, and the town's navy recruiter did literally. In fact he stood there now. He was Colonel Krampar, a portly man of around Uncle Owen's age. He had short black hair, and he wore a thick black mustache on his upper lip. Today, in order of the special occasion, he was wearing his full regalia. The black officer's tunic, trousers, hat, boots, and gloves. It said something, as the man hated the gloves. He claimed they made it hard to get a good grip on anything. Luke approached the booth, and Colonel Krampar brought forth an amused smile.

"Hello, Colonel Krampar." Luke greeted, standing proud.

"Hello, Skywalker. Here to try and join up again?" The officer greeted him.

"No, I'm not here to try." Luke said proudly, "As I'm sure you know, the age requirement for joining the Imperial Flight Corps is 14 years of age."

"Yes, go on." Krampar said.

"Well, Colonel Krampar, as of today, I am 14 years old." Luke said.

"Well, congratulations." Said Krampar, "I suppose you'd like to sign up then?"

"Oh, yes sir!" Luke said, practically bouncing.

Colonel Krampar walked back to a curtain behind the table, and pulled it open.

"Right this way, then." He said.

Luke bolted inside, and was meet with a wall with several curtain covered stalls.

"Choose one and report back to me when you've finished." Krampar said.

Luke walked over to the booth on the far left, and walked inside. There was a kind of podium inside. He approached it and the hologram of a TIE pilot projected from the top.

"Greetings." The projection said in a monotone voice, "I am IMPFS-001, AI for registry in the Imperial Flight Academy. Are you here to apply?"

"Yes." Luke replied.

"Good, let's get started. First, what is your full name as listed in the Imperial Census Databank?" The AI asked.

"Luke Lars Skywalker."

"Retrieving data." The machine spoke, taking a minute or two to process, and then speaking again, "Records show that your listed birth father is on the watch-list of the Imperial Security Bureau. Do you have any relation to the Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker?"

"No, while they share a name, my father was not a Jedi of any kind. He was the pilot of a spice freighter." Luke explained.

"I see." Said the AI, "Now, one last question"

"Wait!" said Luke, "That's it? Only one more question?"

"Yes, just one." the AI said, "When you gave us your name, we pulled all of your listed information from your files in the local Imperial Census Bureau, Imperial Educational Bureau, and other agencies. We have all the information we need. Except for one more."

"Alright then, what do you need to know?"

"Do you have the consent of your legal guardians to join the Imperial services?" The AI asked.

Luke looked down. He had hoped this wouldn't be a question. Aunt Beru had heavily hinted that she gave hers earlier in the lobby. Uncle Owen though…he would never allow it. Should he lie? No, the Empire always finds out if you're lying to them. Aunt Beru had consented though, right? One should be enough.

"Yes…and no." Luke said.

"Clarify?" The AI asked.

"My aunt, Beru Lars, has given her consent. My uncle, Owen Lars, though…he hasn't." Luke admitted.

"I see," The AI said. The hologram of the TIE Pilot disappeared, and was replaced by a revolving hologram of Uncle Owen, "Can you confirm that this is Owen Lars?"

Luke studied it for a moment, "Yes, that's my uncle." He replied. Luke would ask why they wanted to know, but a voice in the back of his head told him that it would probably be wisest for him not to do so.

"Thank you." The AI said, "That will be all. Please report back to your installation's commanding officer."

The hologram fuzzed and disappeared. Luke slowly walked out of the booth to go find Colonel Krampar. He found the Colonel standing behind the booth as the last of the children in the Youth Group shuffled about. He looked around to see if any of them had signed up anywhere. A few were huddled around the Stormtrooper Recruitment booth. Another few around the Navy. There were some lined up at the Junior Officer's Academy. He approached the Colonel.

"Um, sir?" Luke asked the man, hoping to gain his attention.

"Ah, Skywalker!" The man said, "Finished signing up already have we?"

"Yes, sir." Luke replied, "So, um, what's next?"

"Well, Skywalker, next you simply wait here until we receive the signal that all member of Youth Group have exited the registry corridor. Then we board transport back to the Navy Offices where we will catch a good night's rest." The officer explained.

"Oh, okay." Luke said. "How long should that be, sir?"

"Oh, only a few more minutes at the most." Krampar replied.

So, they waited. After about half an hour, a bell buzzed, and the booth attendees began to pack their things up. Luke supposed that was the said signal. He and Colonel Krampar made their way out through a back door with the rest, and walked over to one of several black transports. Theirs was labeled "Imperial Flight Academy." The doors opened and the two entered. They took their seats along the sides of the craft.

"Well, Skywalker, I hope you're ready. You've got a whole new adventure waiting ahead of you." Krampar said.

"Of course, sir." Luke replied, "I've been trying to get here for an entire now, and waiting for it even longer, but…but I have a question though."

"And what's that?" Krampar asked.

"When I was signing up, the machine asked me if my aunt and uncle had consented to my joining. I answered truthfully, that my aunt had and my uncle hadn't. Then it pulled up a hologram of my uncle and asked me if it was him. Why?" Luke asked.

Krampar furrowed his eyebrows, struggling to find an easy way to explain the answer.

"Well Luke, there were some new laws passed recently, one of which is to help people like you." Krampar said, "It's called the Recruit Liberation Act. Under the new law, it is illegal for a minor's legal guardians to prevent them from joining the Imperial Services once they reach the legal age to do so."

"So what you're saying is…" Luke began.

"Is that your uncle is going to be one of those people who just disappear." Krampar finished.

Luke wanted to react in shock, or horror, or sadness, or just be upset. But as much as he may have wished for it, he just couldn't. He couldn't show shock, or horror, or sadness, or just seem plain old upset. He supposed it might not be hard to figure out why. Owen had not always been the best and kindest parental figure. Whenever Luke had misbehaved, the man was very fond of the rod. He had watched his uncle give Aunt Beru the same treatment. Back when he had been working at the cantina, he had heard the other locals call his uncle a myriad of names. "Drunkard." "Wife-Beater." The list went on. Their close friends, The Darklighters, when Aunt Beru had come to pick him up after hanging out with his friends Biggs, had often offered Beru and her nephew asylum there should they ever need it. He supposed that is uncle would likely end up in a cell eventually.

When they reached the recruitment center Luke was shown to a bunk room in the back.

"Well, here's where you'll be sleeping for tonight." Krampar said, "Hope you like it. The transport will be arriving here first thing tomorrow morning, so I suggest getting some shut eye."

"Yes sir." Luke replied.

Colonel Krampar turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Luke sat down on the bed, eventually shifting onto his back. He had waited for this day to come for so long, and now it was here. Finally, he would escape from the horrible dust ball he had called home for the past 14 years. Finally he could free himself, and perhaps gain the life he had so long desired. Sure, it would require him to fight for the Empire for a while, but in the end it would all be worth it. He didn't know how he knew, but somehow he did. Some unknown feeling in his head, his gut, his heart, or where ever told him so. He fluffed the pillow, and curled up under the sheets. Tomorrow was going to be an awesome day.

MEANWHILE ON KUAT…

The frame of the Executor stood empty in the bay of its construction. Or at least, it was almost empty. There were two still remaining there, unknown to anyone but them. A man and a boy. A master and an apprentice. Darth Vader and Galen Marek, or as he was now known, Starkiller. For thirteen years the Dark Lord had trained him in the ways of the Sith, keeping every last piece of evidence hidden from the prying eyes of his master, Darth Sidious, Emperor of the Galactic Empire…for now. Virtually no one knew of the boy, well now practically a man, save for himself, the training robot, PROXY, the pilot of the apprentice's ship the Rogue Shadow, and most recently, the 501st Legion. The sole reason that they were involved was that, for one, Vader had figured out that their loyalties lay much greater with himself than the Emperor, second of all, they were a necessary part of his coup. Starkiller had actually grown to earn their respect over the course of the past five years, exactly as Vader had hoped. After all, once Vader sat on the throne, it would be up to Starkiller to take over his duties as the commanding officer of the Imperial Armed Forces. Right now, however, there were greater concerns. Most particularly, the immense shockwave in the force that had just come out of nowhere, and practically knocked him and his apprentice off of their feet, and onto the floor.

"Master," Starkiller asked, "What was that?"

"The Force, my apprentice." Vader answered, "Something, and something big, has just happened."

"I'm confused, Master. I know that it was the force, but I cannot tell of what side it was." Starkiller asked, trying to get his point across.

"It was of the Light Side." Vader answered.

"So a Jedi then?" Starkiller asked eagerly. He so enjoyed his little hunts after all. Perhaps clinging to the hope that the results of them would someday bring his master to admit some kind, any kind, of pride.

"No." Vader said.

"Oh," said Starkiller, "Then what then?"

"While the wave was of the Light, it was feral. Untamed. Almost as if it were entirely unaware of its own allegiance, and perhaps even its own existence." Vader replied.

"That doesn't make much sense, Master." Starkiller said.

"It is a mystery, indeed." Said Vader, "But I sense that it is merely of coincidence. It shall not repeat itself. Besides, the origin and intent of this is not our greatest worry."

"The Emperor," Starkiller said, catching on to Vader's thoughts, "he surely will have felt it as well."

"Precisely, my apprentice." Vader said.

An alert went off on Vader's holocom.

"Go to your quarters and meditate. I shall be back tomorrow." The Dark Lord instructed his apprentice.

"Yes Master." Starkiller said, bowing before marching off to his room.

Vader opened the transmissions device, and the hologram of one of his young officers, Lieutenant Piett, sprung to life.

"Lord Vader." The officer greeted.

"Lieutenant." Vader said, relieving him, "What news do you bring me?"

"The Emperor has contacted us. He wishes to speak with you as soon as possible." Piett said.

It was just as he had predicted. "I shall be there soon, have a transmission up and ready when I get there." Vader instructed.

"Yes, sir. It shall be done sir." Lieutenant Piett said, saluting his superior.

"Good." Vader said, as he shut off the transmitter.

He made his way out of the iron structure, and back to his shuttle. He hardly even needed to have the conversation with his master. He already knew what it would be about. Palpatine had felt the shift in the force, and now he wanted Vader to hunt down and eliminate the source of the disruption. Standard procedure really. Though any efforts to do so here would be futile. The shockwave, while powerful, had been to short lived and to unruly for any investigation to be effectively conducted. Something told him that his master knew this as well. Either way, he would demand a result. The solution would be simple, just find some meaningless force sensitive nobody, and execute them. It wouldn't really eliminate the problem, but it would please both of them.

Though this particular ripple had installed in Vader an odd feeling. An uneasiness in the depths of his mind. Almost a kind of paranoia. Something big was coming. It wouldn't be a Jedi, and it wouldn't be a Sith, but it would be big. Who or whatever it was that had caused this was likely not even aware of their abilities. But perhaps, for the sake of the Empire, for the sake of his own plans, and for the sake of this person, it would be best that it remained that way.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: *WALKS OUT OF BATHROOM IN ROBE* YOU'RE STILL HERE? THE CHAPTER'S OVER. GO WRITE A REVIEW. GO. (CHICKA-CHICKA)