As the sand crunched beneath the black boots of Luke’s stride, the Jedi Knight gazed upon the remains of his former home. The Lars homestead was in no better shape than it was in when he left it, leaving Tatooine to join the fight alongside Old Ben, but it would have to be enough for now. He’d tracked the unrecognised force presence to the planet, so had opted to stay in his old home to avoid spending credits he didn’t need to and making his own presence on the desert known. It was the only option that was spacious enough to fit four, all it needed was some handiwork.

“Master Luke, this place sure looks familiar…” C-3PO voiced to the 28-year-old, looking around as he followed his close friend inside. “I believe I’ve been inside here before.”

Luke chuckled, turning his head to address the droid. “That’s right, Threepio. I used to live here before I joined the fight. You and Artoo lived here too for a while after Uncle Owen and I bought you guys.”

Making himself heard, R2-D2 bleeped in agreement with his master.

“It could do with some work, Kid, I’ll tell you that much.” Han spoke up, assessing the state of the farm. Scattered scorch marks and soot-covered machinery were visible throughout the homestead, clearly indicating an encounter with the imperial army in the years prior to the small group’s landing.

Luke was about to respond to Han’s remark when he suddenly came to a stop. The Jedi had found himself stood at the graves he’d made for his aunt and uncle. He bowed his head down out of respect for his fallen parent figures, pinching the bridge of his nose with his cybernetic hand. Despite it having been nine years ago, he hadn’t given himself any time to process his grief. He had been thrust into a large scale war the same day, and even once that war had ended, the Jedi Master focused on setting up a new Jedi Order.

Noticing his friend’s shift in mannerisms, Han approached Luke, wrapping his arm around the younger of the pair. He’d learnt from Leia that Luke’s aunt and uncle had died just before he met his brother-in-law, and the former smuggler witnessed how the Jedi had thrown himself fully into every task he was set since. It seemed to be a coping mechanism, but Han knew he’d need a moment to grieve at some point.

“First time you’ve seen them since you buried them, isn’t it?” The Galactic Alliance General enquired, showing his closest ally a look of sympathy. “I’d be lying if I was to say it got any easier, take your time.” Patting his brother’s shoulder, he nodded and gave Luke some time for himself.

Then, Luke turned his head. Something had caught his attention. “Han, keep an eye on the droids. I need to take care of something.”

Rushing out of the homestead and walking a small distance, Luke Skywalker found himself in a situation he’d been having a dream about for months: stood facing a young woman with red hair, both clutching lightsaber hilts. Squeezing his weapon’s hilt in his robotic hand, the Jedi looked at the woman, awaiting her next move. She was dressed in an all-black battle outfit, only her face and hair exposed. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she had a steely gaze in her eyes that was aimed at Luke.

She ignited her lightsaber, revealing a purple blade as she held her weapon in her left hand.

Skywalker ignited his lightsaber.