“Luke...” The voice called to him in the darkness. The young man knew that voice and his body felt like it had become ice. Biggs was calling to him from the beyond. “Why did you kill me?”
The padawan swallowed and he remained in his seated position. “I did what I had to do. I made the right choice.” He replied, his voice soft. The Jedi padawan knew he had made the right choice. His father had told him so and his father, even as his master, never lied to him.
“No.” He could see the cold eyes of his former best friend glowing at him in the darkness. “You were selfish. You did it for your pride as a Skywalker and to earn favor with the Council, to make your father proud. Not for the good of the galaxy or yourself. You don’t know what your precious Order has become, how they are the villains to the Republic.”
“You’re wrong!” Luke shouted, standing up now. He held his hand out to summon his lightsaber, but his hand was gone, leaving only the stump of where it used to be.
“Am I?” The phantom asked.
Before Luke could reply, everything fell away to darkness.
He woke up to the sound of something crashing in his room. He jolted up in his bed, heart pounding and sweating. He took in several quick breaths as his eyes darted around to get his bearings. Luke was in his room of his family’s apartment on Coruscant. Of course, he was. The conversation had just been a dream.
Managing to calm himself, he looked over to see that in his sleep he had knocked over a few items, including a stray glass that he had drank milk from the night before that had now fallen to the floor and shattered. Judging from how the objects were arranged, he had somehow used the Force in his sleep, something he had not done since he was younger and his Force sensitivity became known.
Luke lay back in his bed. His mother would probably be angry that he had broken a glass, but that didn’t matter right now. It was obvious to him that he needed to talk to someone to deal with his grief. It had been over a week since he had executed his former best friend, but the scar from the task remained.
Right now, he lay in his bed, not wanting to move. But his peace was interrupted by a droid rolling into his room. Luke looked to R2-D2, his father’s astromech, who had been faithful, true, and had probably saved Luke and Leia’s lives more times than the boy could count. He heard R2 beep, a curious question before it quickly turned into some cursing, the droid not liking that objects that Luke had thrown on the ground of his room made it a bit of an obstacle course for him.
“Not now, R2.” Luke said softly, turning his gaze from the droid to the ceiling of his room. “Just go away.”
His request inevitably lead to more cursing from the droid, which lead the boy, despite his grieving state to hiss out: “Keep it up and I’ll put a filter in your programming to stop your cursing! Go bother Leia or 3PO.” But the droid remained, just silencing his beeping for now.
