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@inspiringgreatness
[from the distant past]
“luke!” kaaj yells from the other side of the table, the diner music roaring all around them, the small group of friends all huddled around the nearly-stale food, their runtime inside this shit-hole closing in on the three-hour mark. “luke, come on, get your nose out of that mag, you’ve been staring at it for hours.”
luke only glances up from the holomag, the information sprinting across his screen quickly, news and information filtering in from the corners of the galaxy. it’s a long trip coming all the way out here to tatooine, broken and fuzzy in too many places, but luke still eats it up as though his life depends on it. the headlines read about resistance fighters and suspected rebels, a prominent image of a togruta female with dark skin and white lines on her face, someone he’s heard of before. his aunt beru will know more about her-- he plans to ask her later. “this is important. what you want to dip your hubba gourd into isn’t, kaaj.”
“all that nonsense is a whole galaxy away, dummy,” the other counters, kicking luke’s chair. “why do you care?”
sixteen-year-old luke skywalker looks back down into the eyes of the resistance fighter, as though they have some sort of understanding between them, something distant but innate and unstoppable, like planets set on a collision course. “she cares. why shouldn’t i?”
