Missing and Presumed Dead

Father

He'd finally been able to get some rest.

Some. Not a lot. But it was better than nothing.

The night had been blessedly uneventful, though he stayed up throughout it anyway. He'd had to slap himself a few times, but it worked. At least, until just before dawn, when he'd unwillingly fallen into a fitful slumber.

Yet his sleep wasn't invaded by another Force vision with his father.

At first he'd thought it was a good thing. But then he realized he likely wasn't meditating because he was looking for him.

So his dreams were filled with over-the-top nightmares about his father anyway. Sometimes he was back on Cloud City, having forgotten his lightsaber; sometimes he could hear his breathing throughout and around the ship, taunting him before the breathing turned into the monstrous roars of the creature.

And sometimes his father simply entered his shelter, took one long look at him and scoffed.

Pathetic.

Eventually he couldn't take it anymore and, ignoring his aching, exhausted body, he grabbed the water filtration bottle and a makeshift walking stick he'd worked on since he last left and headed out.

It should have been a simple task, going to and from the stream with clean water, but it took the majority of the afternoon. Several times, he had to stop and catch his breath, or wait until pain subsided. But being able to fill empty containers with clean water was enough to motivate him to keep going.

The sky was just starting to turn orange when it happened.

He'd reached shelter, leaning down carefully to pour the contents into his last jug, when the Force shrieked danger. Reacting on instinct even as he pushed the feeling away, he dropped the bottle, his good hand reaching to his waistband where he'd stuffed the dead pirate's blaster, and clumsily spun around.

Just in time to see a black, horned, dog-like creature come barreling towards him at full speed, fangs bared.

He fired twice, his first shot missing, the second hitting the creature dead between the eyes. It collapsed and rolled, stopping just at his feet. A terrible, foul stench rose up from the creature, and up close he realized that instead of fur, it was covered in scales.

He didn't have time to examine it further, though. More came bursting through the foliage, and he was firing again. Though he'd had plenty of practice shooting without the use of the Force, he wished he didn't have to now. But he couldn't risk it, not when he knew the Creature would likely sense it and come back.

If it already hadn't...

He killed one, then another. A fourth dog skidded and changed direction, prowling along the edges of the encampment, saliva dripping from its maw. Luke kept his eyes on it, resisting the urge to reach into the Force to look for others. He wasn't sure what species this was, but he did know predatory dogs tended to hunt in packs. How big was this pack? Had he killed most of them, or were there others circling around?

He hobbled until he could lean against the ship, protecting his back. The dog-thing hadn't stopped stalking back and forth, growling hungrily as it eyed Luke.

"What the hell is with this place and wanting me to get eaten?!" he grumbled under his breath. His grip tightened on his blaster.

He could kill the thing, but...it wasn't attacking. He wasn't an expert in all things Jedi by any means, but he had a feeling he'd know what Yoda would say if he were there.