Tatooine was a stubborn planet. Its stretches of sand and stone, studded with settlements, seemed to go on forever, unchanging. The sand and stone, at least, resisted every effort of man and beast to subdue them. The settlements were more mutable. The people put up walls and paved streets and birthed children in defiance of the planet's smoldering suns and scouring sands; in the eternal eye of time, though, they were no more permanent than the sand flies that lived and breathed and died roaming the desert.

The sleepy settlement of Anchorhead had little to offer that was out of the ordinary, much less entertaining. Yet the general store on its main street, with its windowless walls and shelf on shelf of pungent spices, vivid cloths, shiny spare parts, and all manner of power sources, held entertainment enough for a four-year-old farmboy on an errand with his aunt.

It was especially exciting on this day, as a scruffy-looking Rodian strode confidently to the counter, drew a blaster, and growled,

"Don't move."

Luke couldn't move. Aunt Beru was holding him so tightly he could hardly breathe either. She spun away from the Rodian and put Luke between herself and the wall so he could not even see what was going on. He struggled in her grasp and managed to poke his head around her leg.

"All the cash you've got in the store goes in this bag, now," said the Rodian, producing a burlap sack and thrusting it across the counter.

"P-p-please, I haven't got much," stuttered the clerk, a short, nervous Weequay.

"Now! Or I shoot everyone in this store," said the Rodian. He fired two shots in the air, knocking out a pair of fluorescent lights in a clatter of glass. All the shadows in the shop suddenly shifted. The Rodian's skin took on an eerie glow.

Luke felt Beru stiffen and draw him even closer. He squirmed indignantly. He wanted nothing more than to break loose and bite the Rodian on the ankle, but he was pinioned to his aunt. Searching for an escape, he spotted the room's only other occupant, a bearded man dressed head to toe in dark brown robes. Luke wondered that he had not noticed him before. The man stood in the opposite corner of the room and blended into the shadows. Luke's eyes met his, and locked.

Do something, he pleaded silently.

To his surprise, the man nodded, slowly and deliberately. Then he turned and fixed his gaze on the robber. At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then Luke saw that the robber was having trouble controlling his weapon. No sooner had he realized this than the blaster flew out of the Rodian's hand and skittered across the counter.

The clerk snatched it up and leveled it at the now-defenseless Rodian.

"G-get out of my store," he said.

The would-be robber held his hands in the air and backed slowly towards the door, footsteps creaking.

"Now," said the clerk, building confidence.

The Rodian turned and ran.

The bearded man was not far behind him.

The clerk let out a deep breath and set the blaster down.

"You all right, ma'am?" he asked, turning to Beru.

"Yes," she said, nodding swiftly. Luke found himself scooped up off the floor and hugged tight. "Good day to you, sir."

They left the store quickly and were soon in their speeder, heading home. Luke craned his neck in every direction, hoping all the way home for a glimpse of the bearded man, but he did not see him again.