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Snow.
It was something almost mythical back on Tatooine.
Once upon a time Luke had wished to see it almost as much as he longed to see green plants.
But here and now it was so very real and beautiful… and deadly.
Intricate ice crystals shimmered before him like a million tiny stars pulled from the sky and left on the ground.
He loved it.
A million tiny needles pricked his skin, cold numbness eating away at his flesh as his body trembled.
He hated it.
Only a short distance away was his ship, crushed by the Imperial Walker. It was dead, as was Dak, but the monstrous metal beast lived on, advancing on the rebel base.
Some logical part of his mind told him that he had to do something. He had to stop it. But he didn’t move- he couldn’t.
It hurt just to breathe.
Somehow he had managed to drag himself away from the wreck before it was demolished. But that was it. He couldn’t move any further.
Every breath was agony and his deluded mind insisted that he could feel his cracked ribs scraping against each other every time he inhaled. It wasn’t hard to imagine all the wonderful colors his face was turning.
He could taste blood on his lips. Fresh warm blood dripping from his nose and speckling the whiteness beneath him. He could feel its warmth on his fingers as well, something sharp had cut a jagged gash into his chest.
All he could feel was cold and pain and that muddling confusion on the edges of his mind. His life was ending. He was going to die here in this icy wasteland.
And for some reason that thought felt very familiar. This had happened before… right?
His eyes blinked sluggishly, eyelashes getting caught as they nearly froze together. Every breath was slow and shaky.
The pain, the snow, the overwhelming unexplainable exhaustion. It was all so familiar. The snow beast had done this to him. Now he was going to die, alone.
No.
Han and Leia would kill him if he died here.
The single hysterical thought almost made him laugh, but the most he could do was smile into the snow. His whole face stung in protest and he instantly stopped, simply letting his body relax.
His life seemed to be draining away with every passing second. But the odd thing was the further he seemed to drift the more connected he felt to the force.
What had before felt distant and unreachable now spread out before him. As if awaiting him with open arms. It was alive- but at the same time it wasn’t. It was light and dark, inviting and revolting, wonderful and dreadful…
He didn’t understand it, but he reached for it. Suddenly he could feel everything- the life all around him, the rebels and Imperials, and he could feel their lives being snuffed out. Some in fiery explosions, some simply fading away quietly.
Like him.
As his awareness grew he became aware of something- someone else. The stranger was angry… but the fury wasn’t a passing emotion.
No. It seemed to permeate the whole being.
Luke reached for it subconsciously, as if some invisible link was drawing him in. The presence stirred before he even got close, roaring to life as if it was an ancient creature of darkness awakening for the sole purpose of swallowing him whole.
Startled, he drew back sharply, recoiling into himself. But something seized him, and he was certain he was done for.
He mentally flinched in the grip, preparing for death- if he was even still alive.
Suddenly the presence froze, and he got the feeling that he was being studied. The raging inferno died down minutely and was replaced by a quiet but intense scrutiny.
For some reason he felt like the strange apparition recognized him, and… it was concerned? For him?
Odd.
He really was losing it. Maybe this was what happened to people when they died. He had never heard of people experiencing this, but how was he supposed to know what was normal? He had never died before.
‘Skywalker.’
Whoa. It knew his name! That was crazy. Maybe it was Old Ben again.
Or maybe he was simply delirious.
He was tired. He wanted to sleep.
‘No Skywalker, do not go to sleep.’
What? It could read his mind? That was impossible. He had to be hallucinating, it was starting to get out of hand… maybe he should talk to someone about this.
But for now he would settle down and sleep. His bed was a lot colder than he remembered… but it was okay, his body was growing more and more numb anyways.
‘Stay awake Skywalker, I am coming.’
The voice was coming to save him? He really needed help. But not from that dark angry voice.
The presence it belonged to was drawing closer, and he shrunk away. It was cold- colder than the snow he fell face first into.
When was that? The snow felt so far away, as if he had drifted up into the sky and was enveloped by the clouds. And he was going ever higher, the force was open before him and he eagerly reached for it once again.
Every drop of his blood was like precious currency, paying his way into that glowing void of the force. Faintly he thought he heard Ben’s voice…
‘No!’
…that wasn’t the old man he knew on Tatooine. That was the persistent voice of the great dark thing.
‘Don’t leave Luke.’ It almost sounded desperate… the tiniest hint of despair leaking through. ‘You can’t leave.’
Then it changed. Into a vicious storm that raged towards him- dark and powerful and terribly possessive. He couldn’t stop it as it coiled around his entire being.
‘I won’t let you!’
Shuddering, he tried to yank away. Something told him that just beyond his body the force was waiting, peace, Old Ben… maybe his father was there too.
But the mysterious being would not let him go.
‘Luke!’ At the sound of his name he paused his struggles, ‘Your father is not dead.’
He was frozen. He couldn’t move… his father wasn’t dead? How? And why? And where was he?!
‘Just stay Luke,’ The voice coaxed, ‘I will answer all of your questions.’
It was tempting. But his body felt so far away. He knew it was damaged, he was dying and he couldn’t just decide to stay alive.
‘I will help with that too.’ The stranger promised, ‘Just hold on Luke.’
Hold on. Yeah, he could do that.
It wasn’t easy, he had to reach out again, and this time it was harder than before, the force didn’t want to let him go… but the clinging darkness still had a hold on him and it helped drag him back to reality.
Life felt peculiar all of a sudden, foreign and unnatural. But when he twitched his fingers and sucked in a deep breath he realized that this was where he was meant to be.
This was right.
This was life, and he wasn’t ready to let it go quite yet.
His eyes were closed but he could see through the force, that dark presence coming for him. Terror filled him, but with it came hope.
His father was alive.
And soon the two of them would be reunited.