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beeliiii · 1 month ago

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Name Upon Thy Flesh

Luke Skywalker x Reader

Summary: Rescuing Han turns out a little different.

Warnings: Slavery, descriptions of surgery

A/N: I wrote this yesterday, didn’t check for mistakes because quite frankly I don’t have time to write and check for things. There’s some inconsistences, I’m aware of that. But also I’m just a tad too lazy to try and rework those things into where they need to be, I don’t think it matters too much. I highly doubt this is going to get a lot of attention anyways so who really cares??? Also!! I wrote this with Amavikka culture, Im not fully aware of all the nuances but I took inspo from Jackdaw_Kraai and their take on it. However, I’m expanding on the pantheon of deities so just bear with me whilst I figure it out. Pls and thank you. I also never claim the writing to be good, not your style? Don’t read it. I do not need to be told you didn’t like the story.

WC: 12,135. Incomplete

The planning room is a rather droll space, in Luke’s humble opinion. He isn’t a master of interior design by any means, but between the durasteel colored everything and the uncomfortable, deceptively padded swivel chairs, he thinks he might have a chance. Leia is at the front of the room, she’s got a board full of ideas and key points, Chewie sits across the table from Luke, his eyes trained on the board. They’re going to get Han. It was inevitable, and it’s been a long time coming.

There’s two resolute factors in the plan; They’re going to Tatooine, and they’re going to infiltrate Jabba’s palace. Luke hates thinking about that damned palace. Rounded and tall, it blends well with the desert, belonging, he would say. The desert is cruel, and so is Jabba’s palace. Everyone knows that slaves go there and never return. For Jabba never traded slaves when he wished to acquire a new one, he simply just killed the previous one when the replacement arrived.

Slave life at Jabba’s palace, from what Luke had seen and heard, was truly horrendous. Before the rebellion, before the lightsabers and the family drama that tore the galaxy apart, Luke had been a runner. A dangerous job, but one he was well suited for. Every other week there’d be a job, a bag of credits and a list of names. Then the following week it’d be quick terror, decisive victories, emergency surgeries and bated breath to see if it would be a success. Luke, as a runner, as the first freeborn of his family, knew intimately what slavery on Tatooine was like. Even though he had never experienced slavery, and hopefully never would, what he saw during his work was enough to understand the true atrocities committed against innocent people.

Sneaking into Jabba’s palace was the easy part, it was the getting out that would be difficult. They were lucky that Luke had knowledge of the palace, of Tatooine, and how everything would work. It was lucky, indeed, that Luke was there to help run this particular flight.

“There’s someone I know who will help us.”

That brought a flurry of emotions to the surface for him. You. You were on Tatooine, left behind in his haste for revenge. Luke had bid his time, waiting until it was right to come find you again. Whisk you off the godforsaken planet and to the rebellion. You’d be better off with them, or simply away from Tatooine. There were many occasions where you had run a flight together. Often working as a team to help the slaves escape. You were good with the surgeries and healing, a gift from your patrons.

The time was right, Luke could feel it, he could finally have you with him. Could slip a ring around your finger and mark your face with his blood, pledge his love and loyalty to you in the names of the desert and the storm. Luke had waited, and now it was time.

Leia raised a brow at him, “Who?”

Luke let himself grin a little wider, “A girl who also knows Jabba’s palace well. She’s an excellent medic.”

“A medic?”

“Yeah, she’s the best out of us all. I’d trust her to slice me open with a kitchen knife if that’s what was available.”

Leia looked skeptical, but she didn’t say no either.

“She’ll be able to help us get Han?”

“Absolutely. She’s always willing to help.”

“Would she help the rebellion?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Leia seemed satisfied about that, nodding as she turned to write in another factor on the board: Luke’s mystery medic. Luke could see it now, the door opening, your face, pissy because he had left. He’d get on his knees, beg forgiveness and he really hoped you would forgive him because he wanted everything to do with you. He knew it, deep within himself, that he could not leave without you again.

“Where do we locate her?”

“She and her family live up in Mos Eisley, it’s not terribly out of the way, maybe an hour detour at most.”

“That’s doable then, besides, a good medic will certainly be a valuable asset.”

“Agreed.”

Luke didn’t tell them about his true connection with you, he feared that if he did it’d be dismissed because of his feelings. He wasn’t lying about your medical skills though, only the best of the medical droids could do it like you did, and even then it seemed like your hands were guided by divine energy to heal. Your patron's gift, that’s what you told him long, long ago.

He knew about patrons' gifts as well, for he had them too. Desert and storm, they went hand in hand, and Luke was their chosen champion. At least that’s what everyone seemed to say, you included. You were a champion yourself, champion of the three moons, you covered three different sectors. The spirit, the healing, the oasis. Your three domains. There were other champions out there, but who Luke didn’t know. Someday he would, for someday they’d all be called together.

Part of him feared that you had moved on without him though. That you had decided to continue on without him, maybe you’d fallen in love with somebody else. It would break his heart if that happened, but he’d also understand. You had been left behind and there was no guarantee that Luke would come back, the only thing you did have was your faith in him. He hoped he still had that faith.

By the end of the day they had their plan sorted out. It was risky, but it never wasn’t going to be risky. It relied a lot on luck, assumptions, and counting on the low intelligence level Jabba’s palace seemed to gather. Luke hoped that this would be a successful run, hoped that the plan would work because if it were up to him he’d go alone or with you. He wouldn’t take Leia, or Chewie, just him and his tool kit. Of course he couldn’t exactly say that to Leia and Chewie though.

They’d insisted on coming, and they’d insisted on making the plan too. Luke knew that no matter how much experience he had with freeing people from Jabba directly that the pair wouldn’t listen. That in itself was frustrating, knowing that they didn’t think he was good enough to make a plan like theirs, and knowing that his opinion would be discarded.

He had tried multiple times throughout the entire planning session to try and give input, but they always had something to say about it. No matter that Luke had nearly routinely snuck into the palace, they wanted to do things their way. The outsider way. Luke wished that they’d listen to him, the actual Tatooinian native, rather than apply the familiarities they had to something they were wholly unfamiliar with. Leia and Chewie, in their stubbornness to rescue Han, would not listen to reason beyond themselves.

Luke could only see that they survived, even if the plan was so stupid a slave child would see right through it and circle the problems in blood so bright it couldn’t be avoided. It would be good to have you by his side, knowing you could (probably) fix them up whenever things (undoubtedly would) go wrong. He just wanted your presence mingling in his again.

They would leave in two days.

*****

Two days passed swiftly, and before Luke knew it they were boarding the falcon to head over to Tatooine. He had packed his desert clothes, and anything else they needed would be found on the planet itself. It had been four years since he last stepped foot on the planet, four years since he lost his family, his home. Four years since he joined the rebellion and blew up the death star. It was a little crazy to Luke how much could change in just a handful of years.

He had missed it in a way. He supposed that after nineteen years of living on the planet, raised there his whole life, intimately connected with the desert and the storms, that he had a right to miss it. He didn’t miss the lack of diversity, or the slavery, nor did he miss the violence and general disgust for a good portion of the population. But he missed the warmth of the desert and her sands, he missed the dry breeze and the canyon racing, hunting anoobas and hearing the recently freed ring the Bells of Kashyyyk before they went off planet to better lives.

He sat in the back with Leia, who was running the plan over and over to herself in her mind. Luke really wished she would have taken his suggestions. She didn’t know what the palace was like, the horrors she would face and the way things worked. She’d be waltzing in with a confidence she did not have the right to possess, and that made Luke worried. If they had done things his way, the Tatooinian way, it’d be different, and he wouldn’t be nearly as anxious as he was now.

“Luke, do you think this will work?”

He looked at her, cracking his eyes open to find her seated on the other side of the booth. She was a bit paler than usual, her knuckles white as she balled them into fists, her eyes trained on the sabacc table in front of her. Reassurance, she was looking for reassurance. Asking if the plan Luke had tried to tell wasn’t the best would work.

“I think if we try we have a shot.”

He wouldn’t say yes because it’s Jabba’s Palace and nothing ever really went according to plan when it came to that place. They had a plan made by outsiders and it showed, but then at the same time they refused to listen to him and his knowledge. They wanted him because he knew the layout of the palace, but nothing else beside brute strength.

She frowned, lips thinning as she clearly tried to work through something in her mind. Luke didn’t care what, he didn’t ask either.

“I really want, no, need this to work.”

Luke softened, just a little bit. He knew she loved Han, that Han loved her back. Love made people crazy, and he was no exception to that either. Luke knew that if something happened to you he’d also go a little haywire, and for the past year Leia had been incomprehensibly patient about rescuing Han. Luke could give her that much at least.

“I know.”

They didn’t say anything else, instead opting to shut their eyes and tip their heads back as Chewie piloted up front. Lando was waiting for them on Tatooine, having infiltrated it a month or so back so he could glean information and pass it on to them about Jabba and his inner workings. Luke really hoped all of this would pay off in the end.

It was only when they came close to landing did Luke start to get antsy. He wanted to find you desperately, to kiss you and hug you, breathe in the scent of you and feel your being beside his own. There was always something soothing when it came to you, like water, he supposed. Refreshing and necessary for survival. Leia seemed to pick up on his anticipation, her hand coming to rest on his arm in an effort to help ground him. He shot her a quick smile, grateful. Soon, he told himself, soon.

They landed in Mos Eisley, although it was just temporary for Luke to go get you. He left quickly, hood up so he wouldn’t be recognized. The bounties, last time Luke had checked, had not ceased, and only increased in their worth. Darth Vader’s especially. Luke tried not too hard to think of his father, not here, not now. There was a mission at hand, and although he had made peace with Vader being his father, he still wholeheartedly believed Anakin Skywalker had not ceased from him fully. If Anakin were truly dead, then the bounty wouldn’t read alive and unharmed.

He wove through familiar streets, walked down shortcuts and felt his heart racing the closer and closer he got to your door. Your home, a white apartment in a structure that made little sense, came into view twenty minutes after he landed. It was located on the third floor, accessible through a staircase outside of the building; he truly didn’t know how to describe it. Only that the windows weren’t uniform, there were no true levels to the building, and it was more like a bunch of apartments that didn’t belong together had been mushed together to create a building.

Soon enough he was in front of your door, but when it swung open it was to a face he was unfamiliar with. A young human woman, her hair covered in a shawl that covered her neck and shoulders, a plain white dress that covered the rest of her body. Luke could hear a baby crying in the back and something cooking on the stove.

“Can I help you?”

Huttese, she was trying to gauge whether he was from Tatooine or not.

“I’m looking for a girl, she’s a healer and she lived here at least four years ago, with her family?”

The woman's eyes widened before pity overtook her face, “You didn’t know?”

Dread began to squirm into wakefulness, deep in his stomach, slowly creeping up, “I’ve been offworld for four years, the-the empire took me, I’ve just managed to return to Tatooine.”

He watched her brows furrow, grief starting to cloud her face as she looked at him longer the more that he spoke, “Her father worked for the empire, her mother, she uhm, she made pottery. The girl I’m looking for, she was-she-”

“She was taken by the Hutts.”

It was like an anvil had dropped on his head and crushed his heart in the process. You. Taken by the Hutts. Enslaved. Slave. You. No. He couldn’t bear it, but the force rang with truth, terrible, terrible truth. Just like when Vader revealed his truth to Luke, this one left him with an urge to throw himself down the tallest ledge he could find. You had been enslaved. After twelve generations of your family’s freedom, you were enslaved.

“When?”

“I was told around two years ago now. Her father, he was killed, he was on the death star or whatever it is they’ve called it and you know how it goes here. They see someone of value, they hit the family with extra taxes and since they lost the empirical paycheck they couldn’t afford to pay. So they took the girl first. The next month the second sister, the third month the oldest brother. The fourth month the little brother. The fifth month the final child. The sixth month they took the mother. I heard she didn’t last long. From what I know the eldest was sold to Jabba himself.”

Oh force, oh kriffing force. Your whole family, enslaved, your parents dead, all because he blew up the goddamn death star. The death star that he blew up. Your father had been an engineer, and he worked for the empire to bring in the income your family so desperately needed. Luke had blown him up. He had blown his future father-in-law up. Was there anything he could do to recover from that? He wondered if you hated him now.

If you resented his every fiber of being because he had left you, then he had gone and killed your father, which then led up to you getting enslaved. Would you pin that on Luke? He wouldn’t blame you if you did.

“You knew her?”

“We were going to be married. We were going to be married three months after I was taken. I came back to get her, to marry her.”

“I’m so, so sorry.”

He turned, he didn’t know what else to do but turn as the woman watched him go. She knew, he could tell. She knew what it was to lose someone to the Hutts, she knew how it felt to be ripped away from family for the sake of someone else's greed. Luke returned to the ship in a daze, stumbling in as Leia and Chewie perked up, only to be confused when he returned alone.

“Luke? Where’s the medic?”

Oh he couldn’t breathe. You had been taken by the Hutts, enslaved and had who knows what done to you. His girl, enslaved after twelve generations of freedom.

“Luke?”

He was going to be sick, something he absentmindedly thought as nausea rapidly shot its way through his system. Slavery. You were in it, forced, taken. Taken to Jabba, and really, how long could you survive in the palace with a creature like that? If you were even alive, would your freedom mean anything to you at that point? Luke didn’t know, he didn’t-

Luke threw up. Barely managing to grab hold of a bin as Leia scrambled over to him, Chewie hot on her heels. She cried out softly, reaching for him as he vomited whatever he had in his stomach. He had caused this, he had put you in chains, bound you, practically ended your life the moment he blew up the death star. Your father had been on that cursed thing. He’d been on it so he could give you a chance at life.

“Luke what happened?”

He wiped his mouth, trying to keep himself contained even when it felt like his body might shake apart, “I-she, oh force Leia, they took her.”

Her eyes narrowed down at him, “Who took her?”

“Jabba, he took her, enslaved her. Oh gods and it’s my fault, it’s my kriffing fault she’s enslaved now.”

He hurled again, thinking of you with a detonator in your body, somewhere you couldn’t see, couldn’t reach. He thought of you on that podium, stripped down to nothing but shackles as people bid on you. He didn’t even want to think about all the things that they could’ve done to you in the last two years. A slave girl at Jabba’s palace. Everyone knew what kind of fate that was. And it had befallen to you.

“How is that your fault?”

“Her father, he was an engineer working for the empire, he was on the death star when it blew up. He died and they lost significant income, the Hutts when they see someone they want usually have means of getting them. They raised her family's taxes with no warning, and with the significant lack of income they couldn’t afford to pay, so they sold her family, one member per month, until her mother was sold, and her mothers dead now too. I did this, I am responsible.”

Maybe it hadn’t hit Luke up until then that it wasn’t just blowing up the empire's super weapon. There had been people aboard that thing. Millions of people, and Luke blew them up without hesitation. Luke had murdered mercilessly to do what he needed to do, for what he believed was right. Vader murdered mercilessly to do what he needed to do, for what he believed was right. All this time Luke had been denying his similarities to his father, but when it was all laid out at his feet he couldn’t look away or run from the truth. There was, without a doubt, that Luke Skywalker was Vaders’ son, and the death star was the evidence to convict him.

There was water being pressed to his hands, and then he was looking at Leia. Her eyes were soft but she was also wearing her face of no-nonsense. Luke knew he needed to get it together, do what he could. They needed to rescue Han, get off the planet, and get to where they needed to go. He knew it, he understood it, but to know what had happened during his absence, it was too much.

“You didn’t know her father was on board, right?”

He shook his head. He didn’t, he really didn’t. He would’ve warned the man somehow, someway, of what was to transpire if he had known. He could’ve saved him if he had been aware. Why had he not considered that possibility either? Why had Luke not thought that maybe, just maybe, they had assigned him to the death star for engineering purposes?

“You knew what the death star was capable of doing, you knew what it did to my planet. You knew it needed to go, and that there was no other option. There was no time for a decision like that.”

Leia was right and Luke knew it but it still hurt and the guilt still racked him like he was being skinned.

“The only thing you can do for her now is to try and find her, free her, save what remains of her family if you can.”

He inhaled sharply, shutting his eyes as he did before opening them and nodding at her, “Alright, yes. We need to go then, Han and Lando are waiting for us.”

She smiled, a little one, but it was enough, “Maybe your medic is in there too.”

It was a very slim chance, but Luke couldn’t afford to think you were dead either. If there was a chance, even a small one, he would take it. He’d submit to your wrath, go through every punishment you could think of, he’d grovel and cry for forgiveness just to atone even a fraction for the grief he dealt you. He’d do it all for you, he wouldn’t complain, he’d bear it. If you wanted him gone after you’d collected your family and gone off planet then he’d do just that. He’d delete your commlink and try to forget your face, erase the sound of your laughter from his head. If you wanted that, he’d make it happen.

The rest seemed to blur together for him. Journeying to Anchorhead, securing their parking location for at least two weeks with coverage, and then renting a ship to go to Jabba’s palace. It was still daylight, and even though it was part of the plan it made Luke jittery. He had never, not once, snuck into Jabba’s during the day. Except they weren’t sneaking, they were practically smuggling themselves in. Leia disguised as a bounty hunter, Boushh, with Chewie as her captive. It all seemed so bizarre to Luke, to have them infiltrate Jabba’s in such a way.

When nightfall came Luke knew then that he had to move. He needed to get Han, Chewie, Leia, and Lando out of there before the sun rose or else they would be caught, sentenced to slavery, and either made to work under Jabba or killed. Neither was a desirable choice in Lukes’ opinion. But nobody seemed to ask for that either. He looked at the droids behind him, C3-PO and R2-D2, loyal until the end, they’d simply have to wait outside until Luke could give them a signal, or an alert that things had gone terribly wrong and to go get the ship asap.

Then he went in on his own. Over the four years that Luke was a runner he had become far more familiar with Jabba’s palace than most ever were. He knew secret entrances and pathways, disguised by the runners who built the palace to help their enslaved Siblings escape. Those people, Luke thought graciously, were some of the most important to ever grace the planet. Flight paths in Jabba’s palace that Jabba was completely unaware of. It was almost comical.

It was easy to slip into Jabba’s palace in the dead of night, his feet silent as he walked through the cooled halls, reaching out to sense for guards or stragglers who were passing by. None to be found though, thankfully, as he walked towards the throne room where the massive slug resided. On first glimpse inside of the room he saw bodies lazily strewn about, snores filling the air with the scent of smoked spice in the air and alcohol spilled.

He stopped short in the doorway. You were here. Here in this very room, alive, breathing, on the cusp of sleep but not quite there. Alive. You had somehow survived two years of enslavement under Jabba, and even though he could tell you were weakened you were still you. He felt it, he knew it, and his heart raced as he stepped into the room. Leia was on the other end of the room, silently going around to press buttons and for a minute Luke was dumbfounded by her stupidity.

Jabba was literally right kriffing there behind the curtain, if the thing holding up Hans’ slab of carbonite fell the whole room would wake. There was no time to tell her that though, so Luke reached out with the force as the clasps released, stopping it from clanging to the ground. Leia whipped around, eyes wide while Luke hovered Han down gently so it wouldn’t startle anybody. He pressed a finger to his lips, shushing her questions that practically burned her tongue.

With a wave of his hand the thing started to dethaw Han, louder than Luke would’ve liked but nonetheless doing what it needed to do. The only thing left would be to free you. Luke reached out, not with the force but rather the storm, letting it nudge you into wakefulness. As Han’s chest came into view he heard the faintest rustle of a chain, and then the curtain wiggled to the side, and out you stepped.

You stood in all your glory as Jabba’s long term pet. A golden collar around your neck with a matching chain vanishing into the curtain, undoubtedly to where Jabba was. He had you dressed in a black number, it was sheer and left little to the imagination, but you looked healthy. As healthy as a slave could be, he supposed. It seemed that you had secured a spot as one of Jabba’s favorites, and held onto that title too. You stood, staring at him slack jawed.

He raised a finger to his lips, and you shut your mouth, eyes darting to the scene behind you. Han was almost free, which meant they didn’t have a whole lot of time left to go get Lando and Chewie before making a run for it. Then, right as things seemed to be going well, the curtains slid open, and there sat Jabba, wide awake, just as Han stumbled free from the carbonite.

“So you’ve come to steal my possessions, hmm?”

A chill ran down Luke’s back as blood drained from your face. Jabba was awake, how Luke didn’t know, but he was awake and staring at Luke, dead in the eye. Anger, roiling and bright began to churn through him. He felt the force stirring, rising to his emotions, heeding his call. This thing in front of him had taken you, shackled you and made you nothing more than a tool for entertainment, he had made you one of his dancing girls. Luke would not forgive that, he wouldn’t for anybody, but this was personal now. Too personal.

“She was never yours to begin with.”

“The chain in my hand thinks otherwise.”

Leia was staring at him, in her arms Han who was slowly coming to consciousness, still blind and sick from the carbonite freezing. She knew they were in trouble, she knew things were about to hit the wall and that there was very little she could do to stop it, not with Han in his current state.

“This slight against me will not go unpunished. To steal from Jabba, great Jabba, to covet his possessions. This warrants nothing but death, death by the Sarlacc Pit, but before that the little thief must watch that he is not her master. But Jabba is.”

He tugged on your chain and growled at the musicians to start playing. It was too late in the night or too early in the morning, making everyone more than confused when they woke to music and Jabba’s booming voice. Another tug on your chain had you springing into action. Luke watched, because there was nothing he could do, as you twirled and used the chain for a prop. You moved sensually, in a way that Jabba certainly took entertainment to, and in a way you knew would please him for it punished Luke to see you so degraded.

In the quiet of his pockets he instructed the droids to get ready for a flight in the morning, but to be discreet about it. The Sarlacc Pit. The closest one was about 20 clicks from Anchorhead, and located in perhaps one of the hardest areas of desert to traverse through. The dunes, tall and ever shifting, the danger moving deep within them rather than above. No water, no life, no nothing. Luke had traveled through it once and swore never again unless absolutely necessary.

He thought of the worms in the Northern Dune Sea. Multiple clicks long, the maw wide enough to swallow a settlement, it was a horrendous beast to encounter. The enemy of the Kryat dragon, he too didn’t feel like running into one of those either, not with the little outsider group he had with him. That was if they escaped in the desert with no ship or speeder to help cart them out. Hopefully, and he really did hope, they weren’t going to be without transportation when they escaped.

He was detained shortly, so were Han and Leia, but thankfully by a familiar face who threw him and Han in with Chewie, Leia on the other hand went elsewhere. Luke fervently hoped that upstairs you were simply made to lay down again and nothing more. He hoped that he didn’t cost you your life with his words from earlier.

“Kid? Is that you?”

Han. He was alive, the blindness slowly starting to fade as he became more aware of his surroundings.

“Han, good to see on your feet again.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t exactly say that, but I’m here, that’s for sure.”

Chewie had already hugged Han within an inch of his life, roaring pitifully as he recounted how terrible the last year without Han had been. Luke reached over, patting Han on the shoulder before taking a seat beside him, “Saw you and Leia had a good reunion until Jabba woke up.”

Han snorted, “Her Highness can occasionally not be a stick in my ass.”

Luke rolled his eyes, leave it to Han and Leia to be the most stable emotionally incompetent couple ever.

“So how are we getting out of here?”

Luke sighed, leaning back against the rather damp wall, “We’re not getting out of Jabba’s palace until he takes us out of here. Lucky for us we’ve got a date with the Sarlacc Pit tomorrow afternoon, so we can escape then.”

“What the hell is a Sarlacc Pit? It better be something nice, like a lagoon so I can swim.”

“Oh yeah, totally. Jabba the slave king of Tatooine, the desert planet, is going to take us for a dip in the lagoon we call the Sarlacc Pit. Which totally isn’t just a massive and carnivorous thing that dwells in the ground and takes a thousand years to digest whatever it eats.”

“Kriff I do not remember you being like this, what happened since I got stuck in carbonite?”

By daddy dearest too, Luke thought, although he didn’t voice it aloud. Instead he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, “A lot and seemingly nothing at all.”

Han looked at him, eyes a little clearer, but Luke didn’t dare look back at Han. What would Han see when he looked at him? Luke Skywalker? Or would he see a little Vader Jr on the rise? Luke didn’t know, he didn’t want to know.

“Clearly, Bespin wasn’t the best move.”

They lapsed into silence, mulling over their situation, and what they were going to do. Luke wasn’t about to get swallowed by the kriffing Sarlacc, not today, not ever. He certainly wasn’t going to let any of his friends get swallowed by it either. They waited for some amount of hours, trying to sleep so they could catch up on energy before Lando came in the morning. By then Han had mostly cleared up, although he would certainly need to rest a little bit after this, and they were ready to go.

“Aright, so uh, Leia and the dancer are still alive, although they’ve been dressed in ah, matching outfits, for Jabba’s entertainment. We’re about to board Jabba’s personal ship, since we’re having a little party today, and then we’ll head over to the Sarlacc Pit, sound good?”

Luke nodded, then frowned a little bit, “Lando, there’s one other thing I need you to get. Think you can manage?”

“I think so, we aren’t due to leave for another hour, what do you need?”

“I need a sharp knife, needle, and thread strong enough to sew skin together.”

“Got it, I know just where to find it. You want me to deliver it to you?”

“Deliver it to the dancer girl, discreetly. If you can’t, then I’ll do.”

“Understood, see you soon.”

“Thank you.”

Han shot him a look, “Why do you need those? You planning a surgery?”

“Yes.”

Han did a double take, all smugness gone as he peered at Luke, “Seriously? On who? And what for?”

“For my girl, she’s a slave which means there’s a detonator somewhere in her body. I’m going to remove it as soon as I can.”

He went silent for a minute as Han digested his words, “She’s usually the one to get the detonators out, I never thought I’d have to see the day I took hers out.”

“Wait, wait, wait, your girl? As in, you two are dating?”

Luke laughed, a humourless thing because how did everything get to this point? He was supposed to marry you after he turned twenty on the tallest dune at sunset when the moons rose and the twin suns began to dip beneath the horizon. He was supposed to go offworld with you, explore the galaxy, make a living by fixing up ships and freeing slaves.

“We met when we were six, at school. We were seated beside each other, and I didn’t know what to do with myself because she was so pretty. Skin like a soft sunset and the kindest eyes. She soothed any ache and pain, no sunburns, heatstroke, she could always find water too. A gift amongst the people, that’s who she was. At fourteen her father let me take her on a date. At eighteen I got to give her a plant, at twenty, well, at twenty we were supposed to be wed.”

Han stares at him, and so does Chewie. There’s a lump in his throat, but crying is a waste of water, so he holds it in. He can cry when he’s not on the desert planet. He hadn’t told anybody about you and the way he loved you, fiercer than fire and steadier than the desert. He loved you, loved you like the galaxy loved her stars.

“You love each other.”

“I don’t know if she loves me anymore. Her father was on the death star, and I’m the reason she got sold into slavery.”

“Because of the death star?”

“No shiny paycheck from the empire combined with the Hutts wanting her in the first place had them raise taxes abruptly for their household. Not enough money to afford the taxes, the Hutts took her and sold her to Jabba.”

“It’s not your fault that her father was in the wrong place at the wrong time, you know that right?”

Luke shrugged, “I don’t know. The least I can do for her is set her free.”

“Well I take it you haven’t had the chance to discuss with her about what happened, so I’d say don’t immediately assume she hates you for the consequences of the empire's actions.”

“They didn’t blow up the death star with everybody on board.”

“No but they did build the damned thing.”

That was true. If they hadn’t built it then it needn’t have been blown up. But they had built it, they had killed Alderran in front of Leia’s face and had been planning on giving so many other planets the same treatment. It was just the consequences of actions. Unfortunate on both ends too.

Lando returned twenty minutes later, passing a simple white clothed package to Luke. In it was the blade, needle, and thread. Luke nodded at him, thankful as he slipped the package into his shirt folds. Then Lando was opening the gates, handcuffing them, and leading them to their impending doom. When they arrived at the ship they found themselves in the belly down below, and with them C3-PO and R2-D2 as well. Perhaps most jarring were the outfits you and Leia had been forced into.

Skimpy things, bras that didn’t fit quite right so both of your breasts had spillage from seemingly every angle, and then the lowest rise of a skirt, if it could even be called that. The waist band matching the top, and then a long strip of cloth on the back, and a narrower strip in the front, covering the bare necessities. At the very least they had given you both boots to wear with the outfits. Even Jabba knew that dancers couldn’t dance if their feet had been burnt.

It was an awful feeling to see the two of you dressed like that. Degraded and sexualized, appealing strictly to the gaze of clients. Luke only hoped that Jabba didn’t rent either of you out on this particular trip. Han seemed to be thinking similarly as he swallowed when he saw the pair of you, his concern leaking steady into the force, Chewies’ as well.

You looked at him when they entered, but Luke couldn’t bring himself to look at you. His shame was too great whenever he saw you. He should have taken you with him when he and Ben left the planet. He should have spared you from such a fate. You wouldn’t be a slave after this day though, Luke would see that through. The ride there was still uncomfortable. Drunkards and drugs running rampant, the music too loud and the space crowded. He spotted the droids running around every now and then, but for the most part they were left alone.

Until, of course, they got to the Sarlacc Pit. After that they, he, Han, and Chewie, were escorted up to the plank where that wretched mouth was waiting. It shrieked, gritty and strained, but loud nonetheless. Han flinched, looking over at Luke with widened eyes, “I was really hoping it would be a lagoon.”

Luke sighed, “You ready?”

“For what?”

“Our escape.”

Luke didn’t offer any more elaboration as he willed the binders to unlock, freeing his hands as his lightsaber flew to his hand. He ignited it, watching the green blade hum to life with satisfaction before moving to cut Han and Chewies’ hands free.

“Secure that ship that’s been riding our side, we’ll use it to escape. I’ll get our girls, and blow a hole in this thing, alright?”

Han nodded, taking the blaster Chewie handed to him before running off as Luke headed down below. The chaos had migrated downstairs by the time Luke got down there. Leia was strangling Jabba, which, excellent, and you were with the droids doing something. Nobody, in the confusion of what was happening, seemed to know what was going on, and that was when Han blew a hole into the side of the ship. Shrieks and screams rang out as the ship tilted, sending multiple occupants sliding down, out of the hole, and into the waiting mouth of the Sarlacc Pit.

Luke was working on very borrowed time it seemed. He shouted, gaining your and the droids attention as he waved wildly, pointing to the side of the ship as Han blew another hole in it. Good going Han, Luke thought wildly when the ship began to pivot. His first priority was severing the chains you and Leia were bound in. The lightsaber made quick work of it, and then his lightsaber made quick work of Jabba, cutting his head off as best as he could, letting the thing gurgle through his wounds.

The droids came then with you in tow, stumbling as dust and debris filled your vision and blocked your path. Luke got hold of you though, his arm gripping your wrist tightly as he cut his way through the ship. R2-D2, for one, seemed intent on causing as much chaos as he possibly could with C3-PO complaining the whole way through. Leia wasn’t far ahead of him, her eyes searching for him amongst the crowd. She found him soon enough, you and the droids right behind him. She looked at the stairs, then she looked back at Luke and his little group.

“Luke! There is NO way those droids are making it up here!”

He paused, looked at the stairs, then looked at the droids. Leia wasn’t wrong about that. R2-D2 could definitely go down stairs but up was a different story, and this was not the time to try and figure out if the little droid had some special feature that allowed him to grip stairs and roll his way up. He looked at the stairs, he looked at the droids, then the holes in the wall. Kriff.

Leia was still on the stairs, her mind whirring to try and figure out how they were going to do this. Then she looked at Luke, and he grinned a little sheepishly at her. Her eyes narrowed down at him.

“Luke…”

“Go to Han, tell him to catch us in approximately, uhm, a minute and a half?”

“Are you insane?! Luke!”

“Leia please! Just make sure he catches us.”

“Oh he’s catching you, you and your idiot ass with this idiot plan, because who uses falling out the side of a ship as an escape plan?”

“Leia!”

“I should’ve figured this would come from the guy who threw himself off Cloud City!”

“Leiaaa, please.”

“Ugh, fine.”

She bound upwards as the ship creaked ominously, reminding Luke that he really needed to go. He looked at you, the way you pursed your lips, but there was a familiar determination to your gaze when you looked at the droids then the blown out side of the ship. Luke had sent you a video of the droids when he first got them, detailing what they were and what attributes they had. You had replied later, stating you couldn’t wait to meet them, even though you never did get the chance.

Luke did not ever think your first meeting with the droids would be with you enslaved on the day of his execution that Jabba personally oversaw. In fact, this was probably one of the worst scenarios that could possibly happen, and yet it was happening anyway. Using the force and blind instinct, he made his way to the side of the ship, praying that Han was ready.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much choice in where they got dumped as the ship turned completely on its side, forcefully ejecting you, Luke, C3-PO and R2-D2. You both shrieked as you two went airborne, R2-D2 squealing in turn. The Sarlacc Pit loomed closer, but before you all could get swallowed up Han and the ship swept under you all, catching you before certain doom. Not that it didn’t hurt though, you and Luke both groaned loudly as your bodies hit the ship.

But before any of you could really think of much, there was an ominous cracking sound from above, and then a groan. Large and taking up all the space of your attention, everyone looked up at what remained of Jabba’s party ship, dipping down, bending at the center. Luke stared at it, feeling the pulses of danger in the force get exponentially louder as he watched the ship start to break in half, with him directly under it.

“Haaannn…”

“I’m on it, I’m on it, the kriffing engine isn’t working- Luke! Luke get over here you’re good with the uh-the mechanics shit.”

“Ugh.”

You sat up at the same time as Luke, who hopped up and hurried over to look at whatever Han was looking at, “Oh Han, this is, oh kriff we are not making it to Anchorhead with this. Did someone shoot the damn engine?”

“Uh, yes, actually.”

There was another crack, making you stand and look between it and the Sarlacc Pit below. You’d much rather be crushed to death instantly. The ship jolted, but it wasn’t far enough, perhaps enough to where if you leaped out you’d be able to claw your way to safety through the sand. Another creak had things starting to fall around you and into the sand below.

“Luke, that ship has maybe, max, thirty seconds.”

“‘M tryin’, give me, uhhh, ten seconds.”

The ships’ front was dipping down dangerously low and you knew, you knew that when that thing went the ship you were on now was toast. So either, in the next thirty seconds, you guys moved of your own accord, or the ship above would move you to your graves.

“We’re gonna have to jump.”

Lukes’ head craned upward at the towering ship above you all, ready to crush him and the group. He looked at the droids, the ship, and the engine that in its final moments of heroism, had moved two feet forward.

“Oh force, we're gonna have to jump.”

Leia balked, “Jump? Luke, are you serious? Do you see what I-we are wearing? Also, if we jump this thing is going down too.”

You shook your head, “It’s either jump or crush. Take your pick, if the carbon guy and wookie are respectable they’ll keep your dignity.”

Leia gaped at you, “What about the ship?”

You raised a brow at her, “If you think we have time to argue about this ship, much less save it, then be my guest but personally I’m not doing that.”

At that moment the loudest crack sounded, the ship above jerked, and you knew there was no time.

“Who wants to throw droids?”

They shot you incredulous looks, except for Luke, all stared at you like you had suggested blasphemy. Then the droids began to levitate, and you just knew that had to do with Luke. He had changed, you knew it as soon as you saw him, but he was still Luke, your Luke. The droids went over, and then Han, Leia, Chewie, Lando, and just as the ship above broke completely, you and Luke leaped. The sand shifted underneath the two of you immediately, forcing you two to claw and haul your bodies up until you two were no longer in danger of the pit, or the ship, which had fallen on it.

For a moment you all simply laid there in the burning hot sand on the burning hot heat in the burning hot desert on the burning hot planet with the burning hot twin suns bearing down on you all. You had escaped Jabba, you had actually escaped freaking Jabba the Hutt. Luke was back. Luke. You shot up, a small shriek leaving your lips while Luke shot up at the noise. You shoved him, pushing him back down to the sand as he yelped.

You heard him yelp, an unrestrained giggle leaving him as the others stood and stared, confused as you took a fistful of sand to throw at him.

“You-You-Luke Skywalker, I wake up the morning after you tell me you’ve got two new droids to learn your house burned down, that your family has been burned alive, that you’ve run off with OLD BEN of all people?! Then like two weeks later, still no message of if you were alive or not, then you blow up the kriffing DEATH STAR?! Then, as if it couldn’t get worse, you don’t even send me a message? A measly little ‘Hey I know we were supposed to get married in three months but my life just imploded, I just want to let you know I’m still in love with you’, that would’ve been nice. But no! No! Instead I have to spend the next two years checking the bounty hunter wanted list to make sure your dumb ass wasn’t caught or anything. Not like I could do anything if you were! Because guess where I’ve been? Tatooine! Tatooine! And you’ve been gods knows where, but I wouldn’t know, because YOU NEVER TOLD ME! UGH!”

You threw another fistful of sand at him as he reached for you. Four years of nothing. No word, no knowledge. Any of what you had ended the moment you’d been sold to Jabba, so the only thing you had left was word of mouth, gossip. You knew he had a run in with Vader, that he lost his hand, you knew what he was doing, where he was working. You knew he hadn’t come back for you, so you waited, and waited, and waited. Four years of waiting, and now here he was.

“Well, can I start with saying I’m still in love with you? And that I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t want to leave you behind, I tried, force, I tried to come get you. I wanted to come back so badly, to hop on my little fighter and drop everything, come back to this forsaken dust ball and take you, marry you. I had my vows written, I’d practically carved them in my skin by the time everything happened. I didn’t-I didn’t know your father was on the death star, if I had known I would have gotten him out, I would’ve saved him. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-

You cut him off, you had to. He had said everything you needed him to say, which meant you could kiss him again. Four years of not kissing him, four years of being torn across the galaxy from each other. You had him back after four years. Of course you were going to kiss him. Plus, he had just freed you from slavery.

His hands came up to rest on your hip and cheek, he didn’t resist, didn’t hesitate. You kissed him and he kissed back like it was second nature. Perhaps it was, and even though four years had passed the memory, the want of each other still remained, thrumming in your bones with tandem. You had loved him since you were a child, and he had been too. A wedding that never came to be, grief, terror, and two totally different paths.

You pulled away first, breathing hard because it had been so long since you had kissed Luke. Since he had truly stolen your breath away again. He looked at you, wide blue eyes like the water so heavily coveted on such a planet. His nose wasn’t quite the same, and there were scars running down the side of his face too. But he was Luke, your greatest love, the one you waited four years for even if two of those years were spent in slavery. He had come back for you.

“You didn’t know, none of us knew until after it had been done. It wasn’t your fault.”

He was silent for a minute, his eyes roving over your face, the way it had changed over the years, the new scars, the curve of your jaw, all of it.

“Let’s get married when this is over, I’ll get you a plant again, I still remember my vows.”

You laughed because if you didn’t you’d cry, after all of it, everything that had happened, Luke still wanted to marry you.

“Of course we can get married when this is over.”

He smiled, wide and endearing, the one you dreamed about to help keep you sane. Then something flashed across his face, fleeting but there, you wouldn’t miss it. You frowned a little bit, reaching up to cup his cheek.

“I know nothings’ really fine right now, but will you tell me what bothers you later?”

“I will. I promise, but also, I got something for our run, for you.”

He pulled the white package from his chest, making your eyes light up. You knew what this package was, what it contained. You knew the pain that would come with it, but you didn’t care either.

“We need to remove it here then, I’m still in range of the detonator switch, and if that rubble shifts on it…”

Luke knew what you were saying, and considering how the ship, now laying in a pile of nothing on the Sarlacc Pit, that possibility wasn’t exactly unlikely. It needed to come out, and it needed to come out now. The group had turned away the moment they heard you yelling at Luke, respectively turning their backs and making small conversation to tune out the murmurs between the two of you. Leia and Han had their moment earlier, now it was time for you and Luke. It was only when they heard you two moving again did they turn around.

There you two stood, side by side, Luke now missing a layer to his shirt so you could wear it, covering yourself at least a little bit. Leia shot Han a pointed look, but he merely gave her a look back. She rolled her eyes, sighing before looking at Luke, “So, this is the medic?”

Luke grinned at her, “Actually, she’s my fiance, she has been since we were eighteen. She was supposed to be my wife about three years ago, but that clearly didn’t happen.”

You waved a little, introducing yourself to the two you didn’t get a chance to interact with earlier. Han, on his part, looked rather smug at the fiance reveal. Everyone else was simply staring, likely because they didn’t even know of your existence. You knew with all of Luke’s bounties that anything tied to him would get found and extorted as well. It was part of the reason Jabba took you specifically. They knew what you meant to Luke, knew when he eventually found out it’d hurt him terribly. There was no way it wouldn’t, but it went beyond his sweetheart turned into a slave. It was the history there too. Luke was the first freeborn from twelve generations, a direct mirror to your lineage of twelve free generations.

Lando, ever the charmer, sprung into action. He crossed the sand quickly, sweeping your hand into his and pressing a kiss there, “It is good to properly meet you Lady Skywalker.”

Luke laughed as you grinned at him. Lando had, during his short time at Jabba’s Palace, been one of the nicer guards who slipped extra slices of bread or offered salves to put on your feet after hours of performing. He had been a little bit of heaven in such a horrid place. You were grateful to him, even his endless charm. Lady Skywalker. You supposed that was you, or who you were meant to be. Three years ago you would’ve been recognized as Lady Skywalker in the eyes of those most important to you and Luke.

“Lady Skywalker.”

You tested the name on your tongue, finding the weight of it comforting. Luke, it seemed, very much liked the sound of that. Cheeks flushing as you spoke it aloud. That made Han and Chewie laugh, even though it furthered his embarrassment. Lady Skywalker, that was who you were.

“Lando Clarissian.”

The rest had approached finally, letting you study them now that the threat of a dreadfully long and painful death no longer loomed over your heads. Handsome and tall, minus Leia, these were the people who Luke trusted to have his back for the past four years. People who you had no idea about, who they were, what they did. They were part of Luke’s new life, and you were his sole tether to the past.

Han, Chewie, Leia, Lando, Luke, and you. All of you were now in the desert, stuck and clad in possibly the worst wardrobe ever for a walk through Tatooine. You also still had an active bomb implanted in your skin somewhere. Something you were reminded of when the rubble shifted again behind you. You glanced at Luke and looked at the suns hanging in the sky, sunset wouldn’t be too far off, and you needed this thing out.

He looked at you, “We need to hurry.”

You nodded, steeling yourself. You had gone through worse, so much worse. Getting the detonator out would be a blessing, a real one. No more threats of getting blown up and dying painfully slow.

“Do you know where it is?”

“Third rib on the left.”

Leia furrowed her brow, “What is it?”

You looked at her, letting your fingers come to press where it was, “My detonator. You’re lucky you weren’t there long enough to receive one, but here on Tatooine they implant little bombs into us slaves so that way, no matter what, we’re always at the mercy of the masters. We get out of a certain range? They blow up. We displease them too badly? They blow us up. They want some entertainment? They line us up and then blow us up one by one. So, naturally, the only thing we can do is remove them.”

“You’re going to perform surgery here? Right now then?”

Luke looked at you, shrugging a bit, “We’ve removed detonators in worse places.”

That had them exchanging a few looks. Luke hadn’t told them about being a runner, which you expected out of him, and now was the time to tell. You nudged him, “Talk while you cut.”

“Alright. Well uh, gather around I guess.”

You laid down, settling yourself in the sand as Luke settled to your side, lifting the shirt enough to show the area. He pressed, feeling the faint lump where you directed him to. That detonator, when it was first inserted, felt like your life had well and truly ended. Now Luke was removing it in the desert he loved so much. Freeing his love from the last bits of her slavery.

“We were runners.”

He laid out the items, holding the blade up to inspection as the four others sat around them. It was hot, yes, but it was what they had, and you needed the detonator out before you went anywhere. He sighed, looking at you as you laid on the ground, body turned towards him. You were shaking, just a little tremor, but enough for him to notice. He let his free hand, the fake one, settle on your arm, running his thumb across your skin.

“I’m about to start.”

“Alright.”

He let his hand drift down, knife pressing above your skin. Luke hesitated, he hated himself for it. But he hesitated. He didn’t want to cut you open, see your opened flesh and that little thing that could cause so much damage. You were going to be in pain, lots of it, and there was nothing you could do.

“Luke. You’re a runner, and this is my flight. Now get the damn explosive, out of my ribs.”

“Try not to flinch.”

“Try not to cry, we can’t waste water right now.”

He took a deep breath, nodding as he pressed in. Your skin opened easy, parting like tough butter under the knife as he cut over the detonator. You didn’t flinch, forcing yourself not to tense up, but he did hear your muffled shriek as he opened you up.

“Runners are people who free slaves illegally. We have routes, and everytime we take a job to free the slaves, we call it a flight. It’s been going on for thousands of years, the knowledge passed down from each generation. The masters don’t know about it, well, they do. But they don’t know our language, our cultures, our ways. They might know an inkling of the flight paths, but they don’t know about the passageways we’ve built into their buildings, the tunnels right under their feet.”

There, he could see the bone, see that stupid red light and hear your shuddery breathing. You were both lucky it wasn’t someplace like the base of your skull or lodged into your spine.

“I see it. You’re almost there.”

You groaned, remaining still but too focused on the pain to properly answer him.

“We learned how to cut detonators from people when we were younger. I learned from my Aunt Beru, she was always good at getting them out. She never ran any flights, neither did my Uncle Owen, but he wasn’t unwilling to hide a flight in our home if we really needed it. There were no teachers out there with us in the field, mostly because we had been taught all the skills we would need by the time we turned ten. We were more than ready when we turned fourteen, and yet we weren’t ready or prepared at all. It’s different, being in the thick of it.”

He didn’t have tweezers, but he did have the force, so he gave it a tug as you gasped sharply. He could feel your pain through the force, clouding your head and letting you fall to primal instinct. There was also another issue. Your skin was starting to close up in front of his very eyes, restitching itself, knitting together. He had forgotten, for a moment, what it was to be a champion like you.

“Shit, shit.”

They looked and clearly they had seen what your body was doing. Han peered up at Luke, “Is this a force thing?”

Luke shook his head, ignoring Han’s question momentarily as he turned to you, letting his free hand stroke your cheek, “My love, you are blessed by the three moons, they heal you, heal us. They are closing the incision too fast, I must open your flesh again.”

It had been too long since he had last spoken the language he found the most comfort in. The language he had written his vows in, the language his father would’ve grown up speaking. A language Vader purposely forgot. He let it come back to him like how he fell into kissing you again. The language was with him always, but it was not a language for those outside of the Amavikka culture. You had grown up with the culture, just like him. Learning Huttese, Amatakka, then Basic.

“How is she-?”

“Moons blessed, that’s how. My love, this is going to be quick, this is going to be painful. This isn’t going to be pretty, hold her leg down, she’s in too much pain to think rationally, someone else keep her shoulder down.”

Han moved to your shoulder as Leia to your legs, they both placed their hands on you, keeping you steady as Luke grit his teeth before pushing the knife down. He called on the force, helping him take hold of the detonator, and then yanking. You practically howled, the meat of your body clinging desperately to the intrusion, not slipping out like many of them were supposed to, but clinging, like your body was in the process of absorbing the damn thing. Knowing what your body was capable of, it could very well be true.

There was blood on him, your blood, it splattered as you shook, body curling in an attempt to shy away from the source of the pain. He wanted so desperately to soothe you, to take this pain from you and rid you of it. But he was the one performing surgery on you. For years he had watched you on the opposite end of the knife, murmuring soothing words that seemed to relax and numb them as you parted their flesh. You had made it not so bad, but when it came to yourself it seemed the pain was worse than anybody else's.

He tugged harder, ignoring the little splatter of blood that came from it as the detonator started to give way. It was coming closer, closer, you were so close to being free. A little more, a harsher tug, he saw the meat pull off more, the blood running down, smearing across his hand as he desperately cut you off the detonator. You were trying very, very hard not to cry. Screwing your eyes shut tight as you bore your way through the surgery. He wondered why your patrons didn’t numb you, why they let you suffer through something as terrible as this.

“Almost, almost.”

“Lukkesh..”

The last bit fell away and he could finally breathe. The damned thing was out, you were free, your time as a slave finally physically complete. Luke wondered if Vader still had his detonator or if he had it removed. He really, really hoped the man had it removed. Your breathing was shuddery, your head still swimming as you lay there in the sand, body too warm, the wound gaping open.

“You did well, so well. It’s over now, I promise, you’re free.”

You nodded, letting your eyes flutter shut for a moment until he started speaking again, “The first flight has been flown. Body returned to soul, the chains are severed, the slave set Free. I return you to yourself, let you bear no weight of shackles ever again, let the generations that come from you never fear the depur. Your choices shall be your own from this moment forward, your actions ones you take willingly. You are no longer bound, and if you so chose, may ring the Bells of Kashyyyk.”

That had you grinning a little, somehow registering his words as your body began to repair itself. Free. You were freed. Luke had come, he had freed you, saved you, returned you to yourself.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

You sat up slowly, head starting to clear as the wound began to grow up, filling the hole completely as you did. In Luke’s hand was the detonator, a small thing packed with a whole lot of damage. He held it out to you, letting you inspect the tiny thing that had ruled over your life for so long.

“Thank the moon Ghomrassen for the divinity of healing. My torn flesh and broken bones belong to him and him alone. I thank him for lending me the strength of withstanding the process it takes to heal, for not everyone is blessed to survive.”

“Thank Ghomrassen.”

The wound sealed shut, the skin pink and raw for only a few seconds until that faded into a white line which then faded into nothing as well. You reached up to his face, tracing your finger over his nose, “Fix this nose so he can be whole.”

Luke winced as the bone realigned itself, straightening and reforming until it was the nose he had before it broke. You didn’t heal the scars though, you knew he’d like to keep them. It was part of being a runner, keeping the scars. But the nose, well, that was a little bit of an exception.

“Thank you.”

You sighed and then stretched a little bit, leveling a look at the man in front of you, “Thanks for getting that out, it was rather annoying living with a bomb in my ribs all the time.”

He chuckled, standing up and offering his hand, “We should start making our way out soon. I don’t want any stragglers coming by to find the wreckage of this. At least with us in proximity to it. The bounty hunters won’t take kindly to this, nor will the Hutts.”

You took his hand easily, standing up as Han did too, “I agree, we need to head to Anchorhead, from there we’ll be able to steal a ship or scam the kriff out of some guy and get out of here.”

“You always put things out so eloquently.”

“Ooh, has all the time off Tatooine made you posh now? You start talking like a Corrie lately?”

“Oh shut up, I do not.”

“I dunno, you’re using words bigger than Tatooine’s, admittedly limited, vocabulary, but it’s eloquent so don’t worry too hard about it.”

The rest stood up as well, letting you two fall back into silence again as the true extent of the journey lay out before you all. A walk through the desert from here. It wasn’t going to be a short journey, or an easy one, because it’d probably be easier if they were on probably any other planet besides Tatooine, but they weren’t. Four of the people in your group weren’t used to the desert or what it would entail, they didn’t understand how atrocious the next handful of days were going to be.

Luke cleared his throat, capturing their attention, “Okay, so we’re stranded in the Northern Dune Sea, no supplies except a bloody knife, a needle, and some thread. We’ve got no water, no clothes good for traveling through this place, exactly two weapons not counting the knife, and no contact with the outside world because all our comms were either destroyed or on that ship. Beyond the obvious, there’s a few other things.”

“Most importantly. You four are not desert people. Meaning that this trip back is probably going to be a unique form of torture to you four that will make a meeting with Vader look like vacation. So, here’s a few tips and tricks. Don’t wet your lips, it’ll make them drier and more painful. Don’t cry, it’s a waste of water and it’ll only serve as a headache inducer. You’re going to sweat, and there’s going to be a lot of it. I’m not sure if my body will handle it the way it used to, but desert people generally don’t sweat, we’ve evolved not to, in a way. And then, sand walking.”

You took over then, grin matching his, “Alright. Sand walking is important because there are a lot of predators over here, and a good portion of them live in the sand. An excellent way to survive and avoid them is to walk in rhythm with the desert. Luke and I will show you how, but it’s important not to repeat your moves. You’ll be slow at first, but you’ll pick up on it, and trust me when I say you’ll need to pick it up quickly because if you don’t then we will be eaten alive and I did not just get freed from slavery to be eaten by a worm or lizard.”

Lando blinked, glancing between Leia, Han, and Chewie before looking at you, blinking rapidly as he leaned forward, “Worms and lizards will kill us?”

Luke snorted, “Technically, yes. We’ve got Kryat dragons, lesser and greater, but they have a natural enemy called the Dune Sea Worms, which are basically, oh, say, twenty clicks long? No eyes, no ears, no nose, just a mouth big enough to swallow buildings, and consequently, anybody that is in that building. I wouldn’t say we have a great relationship with them, but if there’s a champion of Kydush then their traditional steed of choice is a worm.”

You nodded, “He’s not lying. The champion of Kydush will harness the worm and ride it to freedom, he’ll swallow the depurs in his path and make them regret ever enslaving people from the get go.”

“Kydush?”

Luke grinned wider, “Yes, Kydush. God of the warriors, he’s a great strategist, military man. He looks over the soldiers and offers aid to runners during confrontation. His champion is always strong enough to bear the reins of a worm.”

Leia was looking at where a detonator had just been cut out of you. The skin already perfectly healed, as if she hadn’t seen your ribs and the way your body clung to that detonator. Moons blessed, Luke had called you.

“Are you two champions of any deities?”

“Totally separate. These are deities, our pantheon to worship and follow wherever they may guide us. The force is everything, the energy in metal, a blade of grass, me, you, the sky. That is the force.”

You and Luke fell silent before he nodded, “Yes. I’m champion of the desert and the storms, she’s champion of the moons. Which means she has three domains. The soul, the healing, the oasis. It’s why she heals so fast, why she can heal anything. It’s literally etched into her very soul. Just like the desert is meshed with mine.”

“This isn’t..the force, or anything like that?”

Silence again.

“So sand walking?”

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