Star Wars Trilogy

by Ryder Windham

  “They didn’t,” Ben said. “But we are meant to think they did.” Gesturing at the bantha tracks, he continued, “These tracks are side by side. Sand People always ride single file to hide their numbers.”

  Luke said, “These are the same Jawas that sold us Artoo-Detoo and See-Threepio.”

  Ben pointed at the scorched dents in the sandcrawler’s hull. “And these blast points, too accurate for Sand People. Only Imperial stormtroopers are so precise.”

  Baffled, Luke asked, “But why would Imperial troops want to slaughter Jawas?” Searching for his answer, he looked at R2-D2 and C-3PO, who stood next to the parked speeder.

  The droids, Luke realized. The stormtroopers want the information in R2-D2!

  Then a more awful realization hit Luke. He said, “If they traced the robots here, they may have learned who they sold them to, and that would lead them back…home!”

  Luke bolted for the landspeeder.

  “Wait, Luke!” Ben shouted. “It’s too dangerous!”

  Not heeding Ben’s warning, Luke jumped into the landspeeder, punched the ignition, and sped away from the burning sandcrawler.

  Luke saw the rising smoke from kilometers away.

  The Lars homestead was consumed by a fiery blaze. Luke’s landspeeder was still slowing to a stop when he jumped out. Dense black smoke poured out from the garage roof. He shouted, “Uncle Owen! Aunt Beru! Uncle Owen!”

  No response.

  Luke didn’t know where to look first. Dazed and afraid, he stumbled past debris, hoping to find his uncle and aunt alive. Maybe they weren’t here when the stormtroopers came. Uncle Owen might have gone to check some vaporators…but what about Aunt Beru? The hole that had contained the courtyard now resembled a small volcano, erupting large clouds of gray smoke.

  Don’t be dead! Luke’s mind raced. Don’t be dead don’t be dead don’t be dead! His eyes darted to the entrance dome. More fire, more smoke.

  Then he saw them.

  Two charred, smoldering skeletons, lying in the sand outside the entrance dome.

  Luke choked and looked away. Then something inside him snapped, and he forced himself to look back at what the stormtroopers had done to his aunt and uncle.

  I’m not afraid. The Empire has taken everything away from me, but I’m not afraid. Because now I don’t have anything to lose.

  He stood there, gazing deep into the flames, and felt his anger and determination build.

  On the Death Star, two black-uniformed Imperial soldiers preceded Darth Vader down a dark, narrow corridor lined with recessed doorways. All the doors were closed, and behind each was a detention cell. The soldiers stopped in front of one door and it slid up into the ceiling. Darth Vader ducked through the doorway and the two soldiers followed. While the two soldiers stood at either side of the open doorway, Vader stepped to the center of the cramped cell and loomed over the lone prisoner who sat on a bare metal bed that projected from the wall.

  Princess Leia.

  Darth Vader said, “And now, Your Highness, we will discuss the location of your hidden Rebel base.”

  There was an electronic hum from behind Vader, then a spherical black droid hovered slowly into the cell. A ringed repulsorlift system wrapped around the droid’s midsection in such a way that the sphere almost resembled a scale model of the Death Star with its equatorial trench. But unlike the Death Star, which appeared to have a smooth surface from a distance, the droid was festooned with bizarre devices that jutted out at asymmetrical angles. The devices included an electroshock assembly, sonic torture device, chemical syringe, and lie determinator.

  It was an interrogator droid.

  Leia’s eyes went wide with fear. The droid extended its syringe and hovered toward her.

  The cell door slid closed, and the interrogation began.

  Luke drove his landspeeder back to the ruined sandcrawler. In his absence, Ben had prepared a pyre near the sandcrawler, and he returned to find C-3PO and R2-D2 placing the Jawa corpses onto the flames. The droids stopped what they were doing and watched Luke as he stepped away from his landspeeder and went to Ben.

  Ben saw the torment in Luke’s face and said, “There’s nothing you could have done, Luke, had you been there. You’d have been killed too, and the droids would now be in the hands of the Empire.”

  Luke didn’t have time for pity. He said, “I want to come with you to Alderaan. There’s nothing for me here now. I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi like my father.”

  Ben nodded. When the last Jawa had been placed on the burning pyre, the two men loaded the droids onto the landspeeder and drove off.

  En route to the group’s destination, Luke had a hard time concentrating. He couldn’t stop thinking about his aunt and uncle, and what the Empire had done. But after the third time he’d strayed off course, Ben suggested they park the landspeeder and take a moment’s pause.

  Luke parked on a high, craggy bluff that overlooked a canyon. The droids followed Luke and Ben to the edge of the bluff and gazed out over a wide, haphazard array of runways, landing pads, craterlike docking bays, and semidomed structures that sprawled across the stark canyon floor.

  “Mos Eisley spaceport,” Ben said. “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.” Glancing at Luke, he added, “We must be cautious.”

  Ben and Luke got the droids onto the back of the landspeeder, then the group resumed their journey. This time, Luke stayed on course.

  Because Tatooine was in the Outer Rim of space, far from Republic and Imperial activity, Mos Eisley had long been a haven for thieves, smugglers, and pirates. Frequent travelers knew better than to stay in town too long. Curious tourists usually wound up wishing they’d stayed at home.

  But by any standards, the drive into the city was quite an eyeful. Street traffic consisted of not only landspeeders and swoop bikes but large quadrupeds, including dewbacks and long-necked rontos. Some pedestrians were human, others mechanical, but most were aliens that Luke had never seen before. To resist gawking, he kept his eyes on the road in front of him and steered carefully through the busy streets.

  Approaching a congested intersection, Luke slowed the landspeeder to allow some pedestrians to pass. Suddenly, five white-armored stormtroopers emerged from the sides of the road. All carried blaster rifles. One stormtrooper—the squad leader with an orange pauldron over his right shoulder—waved at Luke, signaling him to pull over. Luke had driven straight into a checkpoint.

  The stormtroopers were looking at C-3PO and R2-D2, who were in plain view on the landspeeder’s rear section.

  Luke felt stupid for not trying to conceal the droids under blankets, then thought, Could these be the same stormtroopers who killed Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, and the Jawas? He hadn’t expected a confrontation with stormtroopers so soon, and he was unprepared. His heart raced. One false move and they might open fire. What should I do? He glanced at Ben, who responded with a reassuring smile. Luke kept both hands on the speeder’s steering wheel and looked up at the squad leader.

  The stormtrooper asked, “How long have you had these droids?”

  “About three or four seasons,” Luke lied.

  Ben gazed pleasantly at the stormtrooper and said, “They’re up for sale if you want them.”

  Behind Luke, C-3PO trembled. Luke thought, For sale?! What’s Ben talking about?

  The squad leader said, “Let me see your identification.”

  “You don’t need to see his identification,” Ben said in a calm, controlled tone.

  Looking to his fellow stormtroopers, the squad leader said, “We don’t need to see his identification.”

  Ben said, “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.”

  “These aren’t the droids we’re looking for,” the squad leader repeated.

  Luke gave another quick glance at Ben. He’s hypnotizing the stormtroopers. But how?

  Ben said to the squad leader, “He can go about his business.”

  Looking at
Luke, the squad leader said, “You can go about your business.”

  “Move along,” Ben said.

  “Move along,” echoed the squad leader, gesturing with his hand for Luke to proceed. “Move along.”

  Luke drove the landspeeder away from the stormtroopers. A few minutes later, Ben directed him to park in front of a rundown blockhouse cantina on the outskirts of the spaceport. The moment the speeder had stopped, a Jawa ran up to run his small hands over the vehicle’s hood. As Luke shooed the Jawa away, C-3PO helped R2-D2 off the back of the speeder and muttered, “I can’t abide those Jawas. Disgusting creatures.”

  “Go on, go on,” Luke said, waiting for the Jawa to move off. Then he turned to Ben and said, “I can’t understand how we got by those troops. I thought we were dead.”

  Ben said, “The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded.”

  Luke glanced at the cantina and said, “Do you really think we’re going to find a pilot here that’ll take us to Alderaan?”

  “Well, most of the best freighter pilots can be found here,” Ben said. “Only watch your step. This place can be a little rough.”

  “I’m ready for anything,” Luke said as he followed Ben to the cantina’s entrance.

  C-3PO saw three Jawas loitering in front of the cantina near a large dewback. He turned to the astromech and said, “Come along, Artoo.” The droids moved fast to catch up with Luke and Ben.

  Luke followed Ben into the cantina’s entry lobby. Like most buildings in Mos Eisley, the cantina was essentially a hole in the ground that was covered by a domed roof. Its interior was dark, and the air was filled with thick smoke and fast music. Beyond the entry lobby, a short flight of mud-packed steps descended into a crowded room. A U-shaped bar dominated the room’s center, and the walls were lined by small booths that offered some slight possibility for private conversations. Most of the patrons were aliens, as were the Bith musicians who performed at the bandstand to the right of the bar.

  Ben made his way to the bar and immediately struck up a conversation with a human spacer. Luke remained at the top of the steps in the lobby for a moment, overwhelmed by the sight of so many exotic creatures. C-3PO and R2-D2 walked up behind him, then Luke descended the steps. As C-3PO followed him down to the cantina floor, Luke heard a chime from a device in the lobby behind him.

  A gruff voice shouted from behind the bar, “Hey, we don’t serve their kind here!”

  Luke caught sight of the bartender, a disheveled, middle-aged man with hardened features. The bartender was glaring at him. Confused, Luke said, “What?”

  “Your droids,” the bartender said. “They’ll have to wait outside. We don’t want them here.”

  Luke realized that the chime had sounded from a droid detector. He was also aware of the angry stares from several patrons. Turning to C-3PO, he said, “Listen, why don’t you wait out by the speeder. We don’t want any trouble.”

  “I heartily agree with you, sir,” C-3PO said. He climbed the steps back to R2-D2, then both made their exit from the building.

  Luke glanced at the bar. Ben was still with the spacer, who appeared to be making introductions with a Wookiee, a hulking, fur-covered alien with a simian muzzle and sharp teeth. An ammunition bandolier was wrapped around the Wookiee’s shaggy torso, and a laser-firing bowcaster was slung over one arm. Luke guessed the Wookiee’s height at around 2.25 meters, maybe more.

  The spacer moved off, but Ben continued talking with the Wookiee at the bar. Luke stepped up to the bar so Ben and the Wookiee were to his right. Luke tried to look casual. I’ll just stand here and watch Ben’s back.

  Luke reached across the bar to tug at the bartender’s sleeve. The bartender turned his battered face to scowl at Luke. Luke ordered a small cup of water. The bartender gave it to him.

  Luke took furtive glances at the various spacers and aliens: a pair of Duros leaning against a wall, a white-furred Talz with a small Chadra-Fan, an Ithorian sitting in a corner, and a couple of Tin-Tin Dwarfs. I’ve never seen so many nonhumans in one place.

  Somebody on his left shoved him hard.

  Luke whirled to face a tusked humanoid alien with bulbous black eyes. The alien spat out, “Negola dewaghi wooldugger?!?”

  Luke looked away from the alien. If I ignore him, maybe he’ll just go away.

  Luke felt a blunt finger tapping his left shoulder. He turned, expecting to see the tusked alien, but instead he confronted a ghastly-looking man. The man’s right eye was blinded and the flesh around it was severely scarred. His nose looked as if it had barely survived an unfortunate encounter with a meat shredder. Gesturing at the tusked alien beside him, the man leaned in close to Luke and said, “He doesn’t like you.”

  The man’s breath was foul. Not knowing how else to respond, Luke mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t like you either,” said the man with the hideous face. “You just watch yourself. We’re wanted men. I have the death sentence on twelve systems.”

  Luke replied, “I’ll be careful.”

  The man seized Luke’s arm and snarled, “You’ll be dead.”

  Luke was still being gripped tightly when Ben turned to face Luke’s antagonists. Ben said calmly, “This little one’s not worth the effort. Come, let me get you something.” Behind Ben, the Wookiee just stood back and watched, waiting to see how the situation would play out.

  The man with the disfigured face moved with alarming speed and strength, flinging Luke away from the bar. As Luke crashed into a nearby table, his attackers reached for their blaster pistols.

  “No blasters! No blasters!” the bartender shouted too late as he dropped behind the bar.

  Luke looked up from where he was sprawled on the floor and saw Ben’s hand dart to his belt and draw a lightsaber. The blade flashed on and swept past the blaster-wielding criminals. The disfigured man fell back against the bar, a deep slash across his chest. The tusked alien screamed and his right arm—severed at the elbow—fell to the floor, still clutching the alien’s blaster.

  The entire fight had lasted only a matter of seconds. Luke hadn’t noticed just when the band had stopped playing, but he was suddenly aware that everyone had gone silent, and the only sound in the cantina was the hum of Ben’s lightsaber. Ben maintained his position, holding his lightsaber out from his body as he stared at his two defeated opponents. He glanced out across the room. If anyone else had been looking for a fight, the look in Ben’s eyes was enough to discourage them.

  Ben deactivated his lightsaber. Almost immediately, the band started playing again, and the patrons went back to their drinks and conversations. It was business as usual again in the Mos Eisley cantina.

  The Wookiee followed Ben over to Luke. Ben reached down for Luke’s hand to help him up from the floor. Luke said, “I’m all right.”

  Ben nodded at the Wookiee and said to Luke, “Chewbacca here is first mate on a ship that might suit us.”

  Luke tilted his head back to look up at the Wookiee. He’s definitely more than 2.25 meters.

  Outside the cantina, R2-D2 and C-3PO were standing near Luke’s parked landspeeder when they saw the stormtrooper squad marching up the street. Then they saw a man walk quickly out of the cantina. The man stopped the stormtroopers and began talking to the squad leader. The man was very animated, and he kept pointing at the cantina as he described the fight he’d just seen.

  C-3PO moved closer to R2-D2 and said, “I don’t like the look of this.”

  Inside the cantina, Chewbacca had guided Ben and Luke to a booth that had a circular table with a cylindrical light at its center. The booth was against the wall opposite the band, so they would be able to converse without shouting. The booth also offered a clear view of the entry lobby. Chewbacca sat with his back to the wall so he could watch the entry. Ben and Luke sat with their backs to the bar and faced Chewbacca.

  They were soon joined by a tall, lean man with dark hair who wore a white shirt with a black vest, pants, and boots. As he moved past the t
able, Luke noticed the man had a blaster pistol in a quick-draw holster against his right thigh.

  The man sat down beside Chewbacca and introduced himself. “Han Solo. I’m captain of the Millennium Falcon. Chewie here tells me you’re looking for passage to the Alderaan system.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Ben said. “If it’s a fast ship.”

  “Fast ship?” Han said, sounding a bit insulted. “You’ve never heard of the Millennium Falcon?”

  Ben asked, “Should I have?”

  Han bragged, “It’s the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs!”

  Ben was not impressed with what he heard as obvious misinformation, and gave Han a look that said so.

  Han continued, “I’ve outrun Imperial starships, not the local bulk cruisers, mind you. I’m talking about the big Corellian ships now. She’s fast enough for you, old man. What’s the cargo?”

  “Only passengers,” Ben said. “Myself, the boy, two droids, and no questions asked.”

  Han grinned. “What is it? Some kind of local trouble?”

  Ben said, “Let’s just say we’d like to avoid any Imperial entanglements.”

  Han let that hang in the air for a moment, then said, “Well, that’s the real trick, isn’t it? And it’s going to cost you something extra.” He glanced at Luke. “Ten thousand, all in advance.”

  “Ten thousand?” Luke gasped. “We could almost buy our own ship for that!”

  Han lifted his eyebrows. “But who’s going to fly it, kid? You?”

  “You bet I could,” Luke said angrily. “I’m not such a bad pilot myself!” He looked to Ben and started to rise. “We don’t have to sit here and listen—”

  Ben touched Luke’s arm, urging him to remain seated. Then he returned his gaze to Solo and said, “We can pay you two thousand now, plus fifteen when we reach Alderaan.”

  Han did the math. “Seventeen, huh!” He thought about it for a few seconds, keeping his eyes on Ben and Luke, then said, “Okay. You guys got yourselves a ship. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready. Docking Bay Ninety-four.”

  “Ninety-four,” Ben repeated.