The stars were gone.
In their place: friction, fire, and screaming metal.
The escape pod slammed into Tatooine's upper atmosphere like a bullet punching through a glass sheet. The hull blazed instantly, heat shields peeling back with an awful hiss as plasma streaked across the viewport. Inside, red warning lights bathed the cockpit in panic—everything shaking, everything vibrating too fast to see clearly.
Kael braced himself, chest heaving, hands locked around the stabilizer grip. Sweat poured down his back even before the heat penetrated. R2 whistled in frantic binary from the nav port. 3PO screamed incoherently in the back, his limbs flailing as the pod bucked like a wounded beast.
> "Sir! This is not looking good! I do believe our Pod had not been well maintained, and now we're falling way too, Faaaaahhhhhhhhssttt—"
Then the pod twisted sharply. A blast of turbulence slammed Kael forward against his harness, snapping his head back again. The right thruster blew—an explosive pop followed by a jolt that threw the entire pod sideways. Panels shattered. Gravity vanished for a heartbeat—then slammed back down.
Outside the viewport, the sky turned to fire.
The twin suns loomed ahead, their glare so intense Kael had to look away—not out of pain, but rage.
He knew this light.
This heat.
This goddamned planet.
A red warning blinked:
> ATMOSPHERIC COLLAPSE IN 10…
He pulled tighter on the harness.
> 9…
He didn't pray.
> 8…
He didn't scream.
> 7…
He thought of her.
Her lips. Her heat. Her whisper.
> 6…
> "Next time…"
> 5…
> "…I'm not holding back."
The pod slammed into the Dune Sea like a comet—metal screaming, sand erupting in a geyser of fire and smoke.
The impact tore a trench hundreds of meters long. A stabilizer wing flew off and embedded itself into the side of a canyon wall. Sand glassed under the heat of reentry. Bits of metal rained down around the crater like shrapnel falling from orbit.
The entire pod cracked. Bent. Then rolled.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
And finally… it stopped.
The desert greeted them like an open mouth.
Blinding light poured through the ruptured hatch, chasing smoke and static out of the shattered shell. The twin suns of Tatooine burned overhead—hotter than memory, crueler than myth.
The pod hissed. Twitched.
And went still.
Inside, Kael sat in silence.
He should've moved.
But instead... he just breathed. Letting the heat he hated most crawl back across his skin for the first time in years. Sweat pooled in the hollow of his collarbone. His ribs ached. Something in his left shoulder had torn.
But none of that mattered.
His hand was still warm from her waist.
Her kiss still echoed on his lips.
Leia.
He could still see her eyes in the smoke. Still feel the press of her curves. The way she smiled like it hurt to let him go. The softness of her chest crushed to his, the taste of want in her kiss.
He raised a hand. Touched his lips.
> "I won't fail you, Princess," he whispered. "And next time…"
His voice dropped—low, gravel-thick, dangerous.
> "…I'll have a hell of a lot more to give you."
His tone dropped at the end, quiet, husky, dangerous.
His words were not just a vow to return, but a vow to claim.
Whatever they were now, whatever they were becoming, he was going to finish it like a real man. And he already knew exactly how he wanted to do it.
Quickly a smirk came to his face as he stood. His body was stiff and heavy. Muscles sore and screaming from the crash. And even inside the Pod, the desert heat hit him like a furnace blast, baking the skin across his shoulders, curling the ends of his silver hair.
But the heat didn't matter now, in fact his eyes were now more alive, brighter, and Focused than they had ever been. Because now he had a clear purpose in his life, one that he was more than happy to see fulfilled.
And with that thought he turned towards the open hatch, and then stepped out, but froze.
Above him, barely visible in the morning haze of Tatooine's atmosphere, a black silhouette still hung like a wound in the sky. The Black Maw. Massive. Terrifying. Majestic in the worst way.
It didn't need to fire again, just the mere sight of it was awe inspiring. Especially as it was simply… turning. Its long undercarriage cast a ripple of shadow across the upper atmosphere as it began its slow departure, as if it had already forgotten the ship it just tore apart.
Seeing it Kael whispered.
"Hah, so they think they won. Well then, seems like her distraction worked after all, I just hope she's ok."
Thinking of it he narrowed his eyes, jaw tightening, as he said.
"Don't worry Princess, I'll come get you soon, no matter where they are keeping you. I will find you, and that's a promise."
The words were his vow now, and his goal that he would see complete as soon as possible.
Then he turned his gaze to the horizon.
The twin suns of Tatooine were rising now—white-hot and merciless. The light struck his bare skin, reflecting off the sweat pooled in the hollow of his collarbone, rolling down over the scar on his side, the one he'd earned in a pirate ambush three years ago.
And then, for the first time in what felt like years, he laughed. It was short, a broken sound. Dry and tired, as he then sighed, shook his head and said.
> "Damn. What are the odds I'd end up back here?"
He looked down at his boots, half-buried in the sand, and exhaled slowly. The dunes stretched out before him like golden scars. It was the kind of view that made you feel small, even when you knew you could crush skulls. And this wasn't the first time that he was seeing them, all this damn sand, damn he hated sand, but more than anything he worried for what those two might say.
> "Oh man, my parents are so gonna lose it when they see me again."
Behind him, C-3PO powered up with a twitchy whine, one arm flopping before the rest of his body caught up.
> "Oh! Oh dear—my joints feel like they've been crunched by a sand compactor. Master Kael, forgive my asking, but... have you been here before?"
Kael turned his head, still holding a smirk. He just couldn't help it, it was all just too much, too fast, and so nostalgic to him. And then he said.
> "Yeah."
then he grabbed a hold of his armour, and unhooked the busted strap from his chest plate and let it fall. The armor hit the sand with a heavy, metallic thunk, kicking up dust around his boots.
The weight slid off his shoulders.
And in that moment, it wasn't just gear he was dropping.
It was the name, the lie, and the cover.
He turned back toward the droids—R2 whirring softly, 3PO staring with those unblinking gold eyes.
Then he looked to the sky one last time.
The stars that had carried him through hell.
And finally, he spoke.
> "Well, actually you see the truth is... I'm not Kael."
The droids froze.
R2 let out a curious, ascending chirp.
3PO's head tilted sharply.
> "I beg your pardon?"
Kael rolled his shoulders once, then stretched, slow, deliberate. His scars caught the light. His arms flexed with that silent, effortless power that had kept him alive through more than anyone should've survived. Then like it was no big deal, he casually said.
> "Name's Luke. Luke Skywalker."
But for a moment he did pause as he said this. To him the name just tasted strange. Like it was something forbidden, something that he had once tried to run away from.
But his smile only widened, and became a little cocky as he continued saying.
> "And this—this burning rock? This is my home."