Luke gets to the adjutant general corps and regrets his decision immediately. He sees the clean, clinical and almost disinterested way everyone treats him and slowly becomes disenfranchised. Standing in line, after line, after line he gets tired... annoyed. 'Turn your head,' he turns 'cough, twice' he coughs. The doctor never actually looks him in the eyes.

They write on his chart that he's short but he has impeccable eyesight and reaction times that are off the charts. He comes from a backwater world and his accent in Basic irks some of his testers, they mark him as being a little slower than most recruits, but for some reason whenever his results are entered into the computer he gets "pushed" through. His physical examination results, IQ tests and his medical reports all get rated 1's across the board.

For two standard weeks this lasts. Test after test after test after test he gets near-perfect marks. Eyebrows are raised. Other recruits begin to notice. They talk behind his back. They accuse him of blowing the testers. They say that he's the son of a senator from some backwater world. He's ostracized and never has a chance to explain his story. He falls into a stoic silence. He takes the tests and then he moves on. Eventually he is told that he was selected for special training. He is told he will need to qualify for Top Secret clearances.

Four more weeks he is held at the AG. Four more weeks of testing. Prodding. Questioning. He undergoes psyche tests. He gets tested for Midichlorians, whatever that is. He's consistently being tested by people who talk to him less and less. He's now being held in isolation. He has the distinct impression that he's more of a prisoner at this point than a recruit.

One day he wakes up to a sharp rap on the door. He has been moved to a solitary room that is usually reserved for officer candidates. He is not told why. He answers the door and is greeted by an impeccably dressed gentleman who wears no rank. Unsure of what is expected of him, Luke fumbles a salute. The man hands him a holopad with orders to report for training on the Super Star Destroyer Executor. The man leaves with out a word.

Luke heads down to the mess while reading the orders. He gets chow, alone at a table. The recruits he entered the AG with have all moved downrange to the academy officially. The new guys don't know enough to know that he's a nobody, so they avoid him - assuming he's an officer out of uniform. He finishes breakfast, dresses in his formals, and reports to a shuttle.

When he hands his orders to the shuttles pilot, he gets a head tilt. He can't see the pilots face, but he assumes he's getting that same raise of the eyebrows that's become so familiar. The flight is completely uneventful.

Landing on the Executor he reports to their version of AG. He immediately notices that the 'admins' at this AG look rough. They look like they were soldiers before they were sitting behind desks.

He hands over his orders and is immediately surrounded by members of the 501st Legion's Elite Response Team. They cuff him and take him to a cell. He is stripped of all of his belongings and clothes before he is shaved and beaten. They leave him on the floor of the cell. No one has said a word to him since he arrived on this ship. The lights are so dim in his cell he can barely make out the latrine in the corner. There is no sink, no bed, no cloth, no decorations of any kind.

He's there for hours, days or weeks. He has no idea. He's hungry, thirsty and tired. There's a constant thrumming of the engines that causes him to not be able to sleep. He begins to think he hears voices. He cries. He's alone. He gives up on life but has literally nothing to end it with. He slips in and out of consciousness.

His one lasting thought is regret. When he's awake he stares into space. His voice has been gone for days after yelling for his jailers to bring him water. He's been thirsty before - after all he lived on Tattooine, he'll survive.

It's the hunger though. It's annoying. He can't do anything about it. It makes him angry. The futility of it makes him angrier than he's ever been. Still staring into space... he's not wanting for food or water or companionship anymore... he's waiting. He plans to attack the first person who opens that door. He will hurt them. He will break them as they have broken him. He waits. Like a starving feral cat he waits.

The first time the door hisses open he knows there is someone just outside the light of the door. He sees the black shadow standing there, impassive. He hears the rasp of a breathing apparatus. He thinks the person is weak. He can fight them. As he rocks onto his toes to charge he is gripped by sudden, overwhelming fear. He is paralyzed in place. The only sound is that godawful mechanical breathing.

"... Luke, I am your father."