Story Challenge #13: 2nd December 2003
Write a fifteen minute fic, beginning with the word "Morning--" (You're allowed to add an 's', or other ending, if you want to.)

Sparks
A 15-minute SW ficlet by Morgan D.

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Morning started not with a slow, merciless double sunrise heating the air and burning his lungs, but with old Ben Kenobi shaking his shoulder and dragging him from under the thin quilt that had saved him from freezing during the night. Luke Skywalker had longed for the chance to travel through space for so long, and now that he was actually there...

No, he didn't want to go home. He didn't even have a home to go back to anymore. All he wanted right now was either a tasty breakfast or a couple of hours more sleep, and some heat. But Ben seemed to think Jedi trainees should be able to focus on their exercises without being bothered by their gummy eyes and growling stomachs. And the heating system of that pathetic crate — which that stuck-up pilot dared to call a ship — was probably broken anyway.

The exercise Ben was guiding him through wasn't that complicated. He had been told to kneel on the lounge floor, close his eyes, and picture the ship in his mind.

He started with the lounge itself, of course, with the holo-chess table and the semi-circular seat around it, the technical station and the chair before it, the dirty white walls, the cold, hard floor. Then he added the narrow corridor past the transparisteel viewport, the small galley and the bunk where he had slept. With some effort he remembered the cockpit, where he had been for only a few minutes right after lift-off, until that rude, detestable pilot had shooed him and Ben out.

"Picture the captain's bunk," Ben instructed him.

Luke frowned. "But I haven't been there."

"Not yet, I know," the old man agreed. "But it is there. With the Force, you can see it. Open your mind."

"I don't know how."

"Relax. Breathe deeply... slowly... the way I taught you. Yes, very good. Now... the captain is still asleep. His presence is a bright spot in the darkness of space, a vibrant sparkle inside this structure of metal and plastic. Extend your senses. Search for that point where the Force glows stronger."

The captain... Why would he want to search for that conceited asshole? Why would he want to see that sneering face that gazed at him with nothing but scorn? 'Who's gonna fly it, kid? You?' What did that jerk know about him anyway?

"Concentrate, Luke. Clear up your thoughts."

Breathing out, breathing in. Pushing his memories away, Luke gradually felt his mind plunge into a sea of uncomfortable blankness. Like a night in the desert, able to see nothing, knowing there was nothing to see.

"Don't strain your mind," Ben's voice murmured, sounding as if from a great distance. "Let it come to you."

A silent, frigid night in the middle of nowhere — a strangely familiar feeling. Luke quieted down his anxiety, his eagerness to prove himself... not expecting anything, not hoping, not fearing, just being.

All of a sudden, a torch came to life in a corner of his mind. It shone vividly, endlessly, undisturbed by the dusky chill around it. Without a thought, Luke felt himself rushing, soaring to meet it, to bathe into its light, to savour its incandescent fragrance, to taste its glimmering nectar.

The captain was indeed asleep. And dreaming of birds escaping from a broken hourglass.

"He's... warm," Luke whispered, recovering from his stupor just in time to keep himself from using the word 'hot'. That would have come out very wrong.

"Yes," Ben replied, sounding somewhat amused. "Every living creature emits an aura of heat that resonates through the Force. By looking for that warmth, a Jedi can probe his surroundings and locate any living presence."

So all life sources would feel like that? Like a soft blanket on an icy Tatooine night?

For some reason, Luke doubted it.

"Now, move forward, to the maintenance crawlway," said Ben. "The Wookiee is standing right outside the door..."

But Luke felt very reluctant to pull his mind away from that cosy spot in the universe. That lively flame pulsated strongly, and he wondered if that would be the pace of the man's heartbeat, or of his sleepy breathing...

"Concentration, Luke."

"What's that stupid pilot's name again?"

A long, awkward pause, in which Luke didn't dare to open his eyes to look at the Jedi Master's face.

"Solo, or so he claims."

"Solo," Luke repeated. A cold name. With a cold attitude. And yet...

Oh, what was he thinking? That man was a pain in the neck, and treated him like an ignorant child. In a few days they would all be in Alderaan, and Solo would leave with his payment, his worthless ship, his Wookiee co-pilot and his deceptively inviting aura. Furthermore, Biggs was somewhere waiting for Luke to join him, as they had promised each other.

He should be concentrating on the exercise, on learning to be a Jedi, learning to be a valiant warrior like his father had been. And yet...

And yet...

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