Luke learns about his grandmother young.
Not his Nana - he has known Nana forever, with her kisses and hugs and smiles - his other grandmother. His dad's mum.
His grandmother who died before he was born.
Shmi. Shmi who had the kindest soul and warmest smile, even when she had nothing. Grandma.
Whenever his Dad talked about his mum, there were tears in his eyes.
When Luke and Leia were seven, they went to Tatooine with Mum and Dad, the planet Dad hated, simply to visit his grandmother's grave.
Luke misses his grandmother, still, now at 19, that dull ache of family he never got to meet never going away.
Luke is 19 when he learns how his grandmother died.
"Did the Jedi know Shmi was still a slave?"
Shmi became free two years before her untimely death.
His mother smiles, sadly. "Yes. They knew. The old Jedi Council was rigid to the point of heartlessness, as you know. Grandma had helped their own, and Dad missed her fiercely, but the Jedi expected him to forget his own mother. They could have made sure she was free of slavery. They didn't."
"Right," Luke says, mouth dry.
Shmi's life did not matter to the galaxy.
But it mattered to his family.
Luke never knew his grandmother Shmi.
And in this universe, Luke Skywalker does not want to be a Jedi like his father before him.
Like his grandmother before him.