Don't Let Me Go Alone

by SkippingSteppingStones

When the costs of properly caring for their nephew overwhelm the Lars family, they have to face a difficult decision.

"We can't afford to, Beru." Uncle Owen said, from somewhere on the other side of the door.

"Yes, we can. And we will." Aunt Beru said, a little more loudly than I thought necessary.

Uncle Owen seemed to agree. "Keep your voice down, we don't want to wake Luke."

I pressed my ear closer against the door. If I wasn't supposed to be hearing this, it made it all the more interesting.

"You know the farm isn't producing well enough. We can't go-" Uncle Owen started, but Aunt Beru cut in.

"Owen! He's a boy. He's hardly experienced the galaxy."

"We'll do our best for the boy, as always. We just can't afford to…" He trailed off. At least, I think he did, but maybe I just missed the end of the sentence. Then he started again, sounding stronger. "I love him as my own son, but I have to draw the line somewhere."

"Not here. Not now. He's almost twelve. Then we can apply for him to be made a legal worker, and that will take off some of the taxes, at least."

"It's won't be enough to cover the expenses. He'll be better off."

"He wouldn't be! Listen to me, Owen. You heard Obi-Wan. He made his wishes for Luke very clear."

"I don't take commands from a crazy old hermit."

"I respect that, but he wants what's best for him."

"We can't be sure of that."

"Why would he have brought the boy to us if he didn't care?"

"I don't question the crazy. For all we know, Luke is lucky he ended up here, with us, and not sold into slavery."

"Like his-"

"Beru! Look, you're working yourself up. We'll continue this conversation in the morning." Uncle Owen said.

I heard him coming towards the door and tried to get out of the way before the door opened, but my head was spinning. Slavery like my… what? The unfinished sentence was buzzing around my brain, determined not to let anything else in. And who was Obi-Wan? I thought I'd heard the name before, but I couldn't think when.

"Luke! Were you listening in again?" Uncle Owen snapped at me, hauling me to my feet by the back of my tunic.

I squirmed out of his grasp and put on my best ashamed expression, "I'm sorry, Uncle Owen. I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean to? You didn't mean to like you never mean to? If you didn't mean to be listening in on us, what were you doing by the door?"

"Well, you and Aunt Beru were fighting, and you never fight, so I thought it must be something major." I said, feeling like I shouldn't let him know what I'd heard.

The anger drained out of his face, leaving only tiredness. "Yes, Luke. It might well be something major." His expression returned to something stronger, although still not angry. "You're supposed to be in bed. Go." He shooed me off towards my room.

I ran off, eager to get to the quiet of my own room, and away from the argument that was still too fresh in my mind. Who had been a slave? I didn't like slavery, not at all, but it had never seemed like something that might have been a problem for my family. I sat down on my bed and looked at the door to the hallway.

I thought about sneaking out, and checking to see if I could still watch the last of the sunset, but I knew that then Uncle Owen would really be mad. So I just sat there and thought. I didn't like the conversation I'd just heard at all. It had been a lot more angry than most of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru's arguments. I mean, I did kind of lie to Uncle Owen. They argue a lot. But they never really get mad.

And it had all been about me. Something was too expensive, but what could it be? And they'd been talking about getting me officially registered as a worker. I kind of liked the sound of that. It probably meant wages, and that couldn't be a bad thing, could it? But what was all that about being better off? And what about Obi-Wan?

I turned the name over and over in my mind, trying to figure out who it might belong to. I just knew I'd heard it before somewhere. But I couldn't place it.

Suddenly, the door whooshed open. I found myself looking at my aunt.

"Luke, your uncle told me you were listening in again."

I nodded, not seeing a reason to lie. "Yeah."

"We've talked about that, Luke."

"I know. Sorry."

"I know you are, Honey." She sat down on the bed next to me and put her arms around me. "I know you don't mean to listen in."

"I just don't like it when you and Uncle Owen get mad. Sometimes I just feel like it's not going to work out for us. And then I think awful things about what might go wrong. Did you know the kids at school say my parents left me? They say that they didn't want to be bothered with a son, so they dropped me off here."

"That's a lie."

"I know. But they say it enough I kinda believe it sometimes."

Aunt Beru nodded. "I know it's hard for you."

"Yeah." I nodded too.

Aunt Beru stood up. "You have another busy day ahead of you tomorrow, Luke. You'd better be going to bed.

She tucked me in, which was weird, because she never does that anymore. Then she left. I lay in my bed and looked up at the darkness. I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted answers. The not knowing was killing me, but did I really want to know that someone close to me had been a slave?

I shivered, and yanked the blankets tighter around myself. I didn't want to keep thinking those thoughts, so I closed my eyes and tried to think of my happy-place. But if just slipped away from me, like I was trying to catch a big, slimy amphibian.

0o0

"Luke. Luke, wake up." Aunt Beru urged me.

I opened my eyes and blinked up at her, sleepily. "Yeah?"

"We're going to Coruscant. Pack a bag."

I sat bolt upright. "What?"

"We're going to Coruscant."

"All of us?"

"Yes. I need you to pack an overnight bag. Your uncle has called in a favour he's owed by a smuggler who happened to be around, and they'll be here any minute."

"Really? We're really going to Coruscant?" I asked, already starting to shove clothes into a backpack.

"Yes." Aunt Beru sat down on my bed, looking tired. I guess she'd had to fight for it. Hey! That must have been what last night's fight was about. It was too expensive to go, so Uncle Owen had wanted to stay here. I vowed to work extra hard when we got back.

"If it'll cost too much, we don't have to go for me." I said, hoping against hope that Aunt Beru would insist we go. She looked surprised for a moment, but then she simply nodded.

"It won't be a problem. Don't forget to pack clean underwear."

I blushed, and hastily shoved some more things into the pack.

"How long are we gonna stay?"

"I'm not sure yet, Luke. Pack enough for a week, and we'll get someone to send us more if we need it."

"I just gotta get my toothbrush. I'll be right back." I ran out of the room to get it.

When I got back, Aunt Beru was sitting exactly where I'd left her.

"Aren't you excited about going?"

"I suppose." She said, smiling. But it looked forced, and it kind of scared me.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, of course not. Do you have everything?"

I riffled through my pack one more time. "Yeah."

"Let's go get you breakfast. I know the smuggler in question, and I wouldn't trust him to have anything suitable for you."

I followed her down to the kitchen and ate a hasty breakfast. By the time I was done, I heard a spaceship getting close, and heard it land outside.

Aunt Beru picked up her own bag, and swung it over her shoulder, leading me towards the entrance dome. I dodged past her, wanting to see the ship as soon as possible. I could hear her following me, but she still didn't hurry up.

I was starting to worry about her. Usually, she gets at least a little excited if I am. But today she was dragging her feet more and more, the more hyper I got.

I burst into the sunlight and had to blink quickly as the metal of a ship shone in the double sunlight.

I gave my eyes a quick rub, and forced them to focus on the ship. I recognised it. It was an old, saucer shaped contraption, probably older than I was. And as the pilot exited the ship, with Uncle Owen right behind, I recognised him too.

His name was Han Solo. He was maybe about ten years older than me. Uncle Owen let him and his co-pilot land their ship in our courtyard once when they were on a run from the Imperials. Probably the coolest thing my uncle's ever done. We got to have a really good conversation about being a smuggler too.

I waved, and he waved back at me before turning to head back into the ship. I ran up after him, and caught up just before he got into the cockpit.

"Hi, Han."

"Hi, Luke." He said, sitting down in the pilot's spot. I sat down behind him.

"How's the smuggling been going?" I asked him.

"Not as great as I'd like. The Empire is starting to really crack down." He said, preoccupied.

I nodded, and the ship started up. I shut up and watched as he and the wookiee started to prep for hyperspace. As everything turned to streaks, Han turned to me.

"How've you been doing, Kid?"

I shrugged, "Not too bad. But life's still super boring."

Han laughed, "Yeah, I bet. Must be getting a bit sick of that farm, huh?"

"More than a bit. Man, I wish Uncle Owen had chosen something more interesting to do."

"I know the feeling, Kid."

I turned to him, surprised. "You do?"

"Well, no, not really."

I sighed. "I hate Tatooine. Too bad no-one agrees with me."

Han laughed again, "That's only because you've just asked natives. You'll find your fair share of people in the larger galaxy who don't care for Tatooine. Trust me on that."

I nodded.

"Kid, I hate to be rude, but I need to have a private talk with Chewie, okay? Why don't you go back and find your aunt and uncle."

I nodded, and stood up, taking my pack.

Then I went back, looking for Aunt Beru. When I finally found her, I found her voice first. People who hear Aunt Beru most of the time probably think she has almost no lungs. Are they ever wrong. She was screaming at Uncle Owen like he was trying to murder her.

I decided that I didn't really want to step into the room, and sat down by the door to listen for the fight to end.

"I forbid it! I've gone along with you this long, but that's going too far! I won't leave Luke all alone on a hostile world!"

Uncle Owen spoke, and for once he was the calm, rational one. "Think about what you're saying, Beru. If we stay we're liable to get ourselves killed too. We can't risk it. It will go better for him if we're not around. Vader's more likely to respond well."

"More likely to respond well? More likely to respond well?" Aunt Beru shrieked. "It's a child's life! We can't just abandon him! What if Vader doesn't want him?"

"Don't worry. You said yourself, we'll provide Luke with enough money to get by for a few weeks. And if worst comes to worst, he'll forget what we tell him, and call us for help. Han is sure to be willing to come and pick him up again."

"If worst comes to worst, he'll be dead before the day is out!"

I shivered. I'd be dead before the end of the day. Hell, I just wanted to live to see my twelfth birthday. It didn't seem like asking too much.

"Vader won't let him be harmed. For one reason or another, I'm sure he'll take Luke."

"Take him? Take him! Luke isn't just some worthless droid! Tell Han to turn around right now! Take us all back to the farm."

"We can't make enough money off the farm to pay for Luke's costs. You know that."

"Then sell another vaporator! Hell, sell the whole farm and buy us a tiny apartment somewhere! You can't just abandon Luke."

"We haven't got any more vaporators to sell. That's the only way we've been able to keep him this long, and you know it. It's just a wonder he never noticed."

I had actually noticed the vaporators disappearing, but I hadn't said anything about it. It wasn't like I liked repairing them.

"Then sell the farm!"

"Beru, Beru. We can't. It's the only profession we can make our way in. Calm down. If we let Luke go now, we can keep the farm, and buy new vaporators. If we try to keep Luke, and go on selling everything we own, we'll all be out of a home before you know it. Luke would understand that it's for the best."

Would I? Would I really? I wasn't so sure. I didn't want to be left behind.

"You know how much he hates the farm," Uncle Owen continued. "He'll be happier here. No matter what happens."

"How can you be so sure of that?" Aunt Beru wailed.

"Beru, I've raised him his whole life. I know him."

"You didn't raise him." Aunt Beru said, her voice sounding suddenly cold. "I raised that child. And you barely saw him. The only way he knows you is as a taskmaster."

I curled into a ball in the hallway and tried to block out the rest of the conversation. They were going to give me away. I'd worked for them my whole life, as best as I could, and they were going to leave me.

I felt myself start to cry. I didn't deserve this! I'd always done whatever they asked! And now I was going to be dumped on some far-distant planet I'd only learned about in school.

Finally, I decided that I didn't want to leave the only home I'd ever had on the note of being caught listening in for one last time, and stumbled towards the cockpit again.

When I was almost there, the wookiee met me in the hall. He growled something that seemed less like a threat and more like kind concern. I started crying even harder, and started to shake. A big, furry paw found the back of my head, and I felt another one on my back, then I was pulled against the huge, fuzzy body, and Chewbacca was rubbing my back slowly, continuing to growl softly at me in his language.

The next thing I knew, Han was beside us as well. He pulled me out of Chewbacca's arms, saying, "Honestly, Chewie. Give the kid a heart attack when he's obviously already havin' a bad day."

But I just wanted to be held, and I had kind of been counting on Chewbacca to hold me up. As soon as I was away from him, I crumpled to the floor, crying harder.

Han dropped beside me, putting one arm around me.

"Hey, Kid. It's going to be all right."

"Th-they're g-gonna leave me, H-han! I've a-always t-tried my b-best a-"

"Shh, Kid. I know. They told me. I don't like what they're doing at all. I want you to know that."

"You knew? You knew what they were going to do and you didn't tell me?" I asked, startled out of my tears for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Kid. I'm so sorry." Han said gently. But I was pulling myself away from him, back towards the wookiee, who was kneeling behind me, and took me in his huge, warm arms again. Somehow, I didn't blame the wookiee. Maybe something he'd said that I didn't understand had been his warning. I didn't know.

Chewbacca ran one of his paws through my hair, trying to make it lie flat. He growled something else at me and when I didn't stop crying, he kept growling. But now that I thought about it, the growl was more like a purr, soft, gentle, kind of reminding me of well-oiled machinery.

"I'll leave you two here. I gotta land this ship." Han said, and I felt the deck shift a bit as he stood up. Chewbacca growled something else again that didn't make sense, and pulled me to my feet. He led me a little way to a game table with a wrap-around seat, still making the soft growls.

As the ship landed, I didn't move away from Chewbacca. He gently tried to get me to my feet again.

"I don't wanna get up. I'll stay with you an' Han." I told him. "I can help you. Han can teach me to fly a ship like this, and I'm small. I can get places neither of you can."

Chewie growled again, somewhat more commandingly this time, and pushed me to my feet. I tried to fall back into the booth again, but he held me up. Then he was gently pushing me towards the landing rap.

"Why should I bother, Chewie? You and Han need help, don't you? I just want you guys to feed me and keep me safe, I swear I won't ask for any money, ever."

Chewie shook his head, and continued his gentle pushes.

When my aunt and uncle saw me, I knew right away that Han had told them what had happened. My aunt was looking at me as though she might start crying herself, and my uncle was carefully avoiding my eyes.

Aunt Beru reached out to me, and I allowed her to remove me from Chewie's protection. She hugged me gently. "Han says you're aware of the situation?"

I shook my head.

"We're going to have to leave you here, Luke. Please don't think that it's because we don't love you. We've landed on Vader's personal landing platform, and we need to ask you to get out quickly, before someone destroys our ship. Give this to Lord Vader. Only his voice can activate it. And take this too." She held a wallet out to me, open to show me the contents. "If anything goes wrong, I've given you some money here, and I found a picture of your parents for you as well."

"I don't want to go, Aunt Beru. I want to stay here, with you. Or at least with Chewie and Han."

Aunt Beru looked at my uncle, looking hopeful. But he shook his head. "Luke will only be safe with Vader."

"If Vader doesn't kill me the second he sees me!" I protested.

Suddenly, a loudspeaker blared across the platform, telling us in no unsure terms that if we weren't off the landing pad in ten seconds, the ship would be blasted to pieces.

Aunt Beru let me go, and gave me a gentle push, and I ran down the ramp towards the doors. As the ship started up, I fell against a doorway, hoping that whoever had the blasters aimed at the ship wouldn't have noticed me.

I started to cry again, and looked down at the photo of my parents Aunt Beru had given me. Of course, I couldn't really see it through the tears.

Finally, I leapt to my feet. This was how it was all going to end? They were going to leave me here to die, giving me only a picture of my dead parents in consolation? Well, if that was how it was going to work, I was going to get it over with right now.

I ran back to the center of the platform, spreading my arms wide to draw attention to myself. Take me now. I begged inwardly. Shoot me dead right now. Don't make me go on alone.

But no beams leapt to slice through my body, and no loudspeaker blared. I was just standing alone on a platform, a pathetic little backpack on my back, with my arms spread wide as if I was praising something.

I lowered my arms and sat down, hoping someone would notice the kid sitting alone in the middle of the platform and decide to take mercy on me.

But I sat there for several minutes, and I was still alive. I stood up and tried waving my arms again. But no one noticed me. I was far too high up for even the airspeeders to see me. I walked to the edge of the platform and looked down, considering jumping.

If I did jump, would I be conscious when I hit the ground? Surely I would have been knocked out by then. You heard about it from time to time. Someone being dead before they hit the ground, or the water, or whatever after committing suicide.

I turned back towards the middle of the platform, to get a running jump, at the very least. But there was someone standing there already.

He was tall, and he had dark blonde, and he was looking right at me.

"Who are you?"

I shook my head. "I'm nobody. Nobody worth feeding, anyway."

He started to walk towards me, and I backed away. He stopped walking, and just stared at me.

"What are you doing all the way up here?" He asked, although it was merely a matter of interest.

"My aunt and uncle left me to die." I told him, clutching the wallet with the picture of my parents so tightly I was afraid I would crush it.

"Your aunt and uncle?"

"Yeah," I said defiantly. "My parents have already left me."

"But why here?"

"They said I should show this to Lord Vader." I said holding up the datapad. "They seemed to think it would mean something to him. Like they thought he would actually care about the nephew of a couple of worthless moisture farmers. It's totally useless." I said, turning away from him and throwing the pad with all my might.

To my surprise, it stopped in mid-air.

I turned back to the man. He had his eyes closed and one hand was raised. As I watched in astonishment, the datapad flew into his outstretched hand.

"You shouldn't have done that. It's not wise to withhold information from me."

I gasped, and took a step back. My feet slipped, and I found myself in sudden, terrifying free-fall. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. I found my feet on solid ground again, and stared at him. His arm was still raised, and I could feel myself being pulled towards him.

"You saved me. Why did you save me?"

"I imagine the contents of this are for you too." He said, holding up the pad.

I shook my head, "No, they're probably not. They probably thought that as long as they were leaving me to die they may as well use me to get a message to you."

I had stopped being dragged. I was standing, as tall as I could, several meters away from him.

"Come here," he said kindly, as if he didn't have the power to make me do whatever he wanted.

"Yes, Sir!" I said, suddenly sure of what I should be doing. I started to march forward. But before I got more than a couple of steps, I was frozen. I rolled my eyes up to look at him, and he was frowning slightly.

"I don't mean it as an order. Come if you want to." He said, and I found myself able to move again.

I was back to confusion. But I decided to keep going to him, and started to stumble onwards cautiously. He watched, and waited until I was beside him before keying the voice activation switch and saying, calmly and clearly, "Open."

The pad gave a short pulse, and glowed.

Uncertainly, half expecting my own death, I peeked past his shoulder. The pad was offering two options. Text or spoken.

Vader keyed 'spoken', and a small hologram of my aunt opened itself on the screen.

"Lord Vader.

"This is my nephew, your son, Luke Skywalker. At Obi-Wan Kenobi's request, my husband and I have raised the child from infancy. He is a wonderful child, bright, clever, and eager to please, and I'm sure you won't regret taking him in.

"We have returned him to you because we couldn't afford to keep him in school any longer, and we wanted him to be cared for and educated. If you wish to provide for the expenses, we would be happy to keep him under our roof again.

"Should you choose not to take in the child, I have given him enough money to pay for a short while in an orphanage. I am certain that Luke could earn his keep, but I know that five thousand credits can only take him so far.

"If you don't want Luke because he's your son, then I'll tell you that he is strong in the Force, and would be eager to learn all you can teach him about using it.

"I ask you again, Lord Vader, to please do what's best for Luke, as he certainly deserves it. I am very sorry if this has been an unnecessary intrusion on your privacy.

"Beru Lars."

I looked up into his face, and found him gazing back at me with just as much wonder. I tried to say something, and choked on it. He seemed to be having similar problems communicating. Finally, he reached out and took my hand in his own, running his fingers over my palm, my fingers, the back of my hand, as though to make sure I was really there, not just some kind of hologram.

I gulped again, and found myself oddly detached from the galaxy.

I was looking at my father's face for the first time in my life, right after being about to commit suicide, and then trying to destroy the information that had linked us. Suddenly, I wished I had kept my temper under control.

What a way to meet my father! I had been having a full-fledged temper tantrum! I felt myself blushing, and wanted to cry. I would only ever get one chance to meet this person, and I had messed it up royally.

What if he didn't want me just because I had been acting so pathetically when he met me? What if that was the only reason he turned me away?

He still hadn't spoken, but his hand, the one that was verifying that I was really there, had moved up to my cheek, and was caressing tears from my face. I rested my head on his hand, and he pulled me close, in a sudden, desperate, almost violent motion.

He clung to me, arms wrapped so tightly around me I wondered if he would ever let me go. But then my brain kicked itself back into gear, and I managed to squirm my arms out of his grasp, and wrap them around him in helpless desperation, needing him to hold me, needing him not to let me go.