#41
I: Missing Droid
"Artoo!" Luke was beginning to worry; he couldn't find the droid anywhere. C-3PO, Ben, the Solo's, no one knew where he was. He plopped down on the sofa. "Where are you?"
It was then he noticed it, the small scrap of flimsi. Rushing over to the droids station, he snatched it up off the floor. Unfolding it he noticed it had two words inscribed upon it in hasty writing; *Red Rancor*.
Those words were very familiar to Skywalker. He grinned as he recollected the night of his "bachelor's party" at the Red Rancor. A chime at the door interrupted his biter sweet memories. Luke walked over and opened it, a tall, redheaded figure stood in the door.
"Hi Dad."
"Hello Ben." The older Skywalker stepped aside. He was amazed at how fast his son had grown. Ben was tall, nearly as tall as Zekk now.
"Any news about Artoo?"
"No, but I did find this." he handed him the flimsi.
"The Red Rancor? You've got to be kidding me? Why would this have anything to do with an astromech droid?"
"Honestly, no clue." The Jedi Master sat back down on the sofa.
"Well there's only one way to find out." Ben got up to leave.
"Ben."
"Don't worry Dad. I know how much he means to you and will find him." He walked out the door.
Luke leaned his head back against the sofa; his son was a grown man now and could handle himself. If only that nagging danger sense in the back of his mind would disappear. Desperately, he tried to recollect the years and figure out why R2 was so special. It hit him like a bantha to the brain. He had never wiped the droids memory, who knew all it contained. One particularly troubling thought came to mind just then. He remembered back to Tatooine, before he became a Jedi, before he knew Leia was his twin sister or Darth Vader was his father. A hologram of a beautiful, brown-eyed woman, her only hope, two lost droids...
THE DEATH STAR PLANS!
II: A Tail of Two Rodians
Strolling down the Coruscanti streets, Ben Skywalker ambled freely; a past time he enjoyed but was rarely possible due to the ever present throng of holo reporters. With his hair dyed a chocolate brown and green contacts to cover up his sky-blue irises, no passerby would suspect him Lieutenant and Jedi Knight, Ben Skywalker. It was humid for Coruscant's standards and Ben pulled his bantha leather jacket closer as he stepped into the cantina.
The Red Rancor was known throughout the galaxy for its roguish dealings. *Uncle Han would like this place.* He chuckled to himself. As he walked towards the counter he noticed a pair of rodians who had obviously had too much to drink, and made a mental note to stay clear of them.
He took a seat at the bar and a young waitress approached him.
"Can I get you anything?" Ben was appalled at how beautiful she was. Her Long dark hair flowed freely down her back and even in the dim lighting; Ben could make out a strange sort of glow and realized that the source was golden blonde highlights that fit with her hazel eyes.
"Whiskey." She nodded once and walked off. As she returned she gave an exasperated sigh and slapped his drink down upon the table.
"There go those two again." She stalked off to where the two rodians had gotten a little too boisterous with their evening. "Reebo," she growled, "how many times have I told you and your brother to stay outta' here?"
"Relax missy," the Rodian chuckled. The other hiccupped something in slurred huttese, Ben was struggling to hear the conversation. "My brother here says he would be delighted if you would make the acquaintance of two humble spacers."
"Not in your life you Poodoo!" she shot back in the alien's language. Ben no longer had trouble listening, as was the same for all sentient beings in the cantina and no doubt even the granite slugs that slurped along the outer walls.
"Come now." Reebo stood without any form of grace to be seen. "You see, my brother is from off world." He crossed to the other side of the waitress so he was about a meter away from the counter where Ben sat. "And he leaves tomorrow, so I thought I'd introduce him to our dear friend Mila." The drunk draped his green arm over the woman's shoulder.
"You better leave." The Jedi could feel her anger, annoyance and embarrassment seeping through the Force.
"Or what?" he moved closer to the Skywalker. "Are you gonna throw us out?"
"I'd certainly like to."
"I'd like to see you try!" Then, with the alcohol in control of his actions, he took a flailing swing at the closest being-Ben-and hit him square in the jaw.
"OUT NOW!"
"Let us leave brother. I feel our conversation is no longer private." The two rodian brothers left through the main entrance.
After a few more hours of sitting and surveying, Ben decided to call it a night. The hazel-eyed waitress had left a few minutes ago. Gathering himself, he walked out the door. Enjoying the crisp night air, he walked a few more blocks before he heard voices. Ben recognized one as the woman from the Rancor.
"I don't know.
"What do you mean 'you don't know'?" Another voice, this one more gruff and male.
"Grub..."
"No, you listen girl; I'm riskin' my neck for you, you'd have Black Sun agents everywhere if it weren't for me."
*The Black Sun?* The Jedi eavesdropper moved down the alley, back against the wall. He shimmied down until he reaches a corner; a corner which, if turned, would bring him face to face with the two people.
"Wait," said the Grub character.
His danger sense flaring, Skywalker ducked to all fours and rolled over on his right side just as a blaster bolt went whizzing past his left shoulder. The waitress tried to draw her blaster, but the man stopped firing at Ben for a few seconds giving Ben to force-leap onto the catwalk that hung from above.
As Grub realized his prey had escaped he spun around to face the woman.
"Look what you did!" He raised a hand violently but it never made contact for his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell to the ground with a thump revealing the form of Ben Skywalker, a smoking blaster set to stun in his right hand.
III: Well, well, well
"Nice shooting."
"Thanks," he looked at the unconscious body lying at his feet, "we should get out of here."
"Works for me."
It had started to sprinkle.
A few minutes later, when they were far enough away, it had started to pour.
"Hmph," said the waitress, "figures; Coruscant always rains at the wrong time." She looked at Ben. "How far are you heading?"
"Uhh..." he held his hands out and looked past the drops of water rushing down his hair, "not too close."
"Okay then we'll stop by my place then. It's not to far from here at all." not particularly enjoying his wet clothes at the moment, he agreed.
After walking a few blocks they reached the woman's abode. "Wait here," she said as she keyed in the access code, opened the door, and stepped inside.
As Ben peeked around the door he saw a small, quaint apartment with a simple kitchen and living areas. Along the north wall stretched a long window. Beautiful lights shone through as Coruscant's night life buzzed about. But surely this wasn't Coruscant? Could this beautiful cityscape really be the industrial, mechanical world?
"Here," the voice yanked Ben from his thoughts, "take these." She handed him a couple of towels. "You can use the guest 'fresher," she pointed down the hall, "put your wet clothes outside the door and I'll dry them." Skywalker thanked her for her hospitality and moved to the refresher where she had indicated.
Standing and letting the hot water flow over him, he scrubbed ruthlessly at his hair to remove all of the dye. After he had gotten it all out he turned the water off and dressed, pausing a moment to glance at his fiery-honey-colored hair. His mother could be found in his hair, and his father in his sky blue eyes. A new wave of pain erupted as he remembered the loss of his mother. Though her death was years ago, the wound never seemed to heal. He remembered that dreaded day on Hapes as he held his mothers body. He pushed the pain deep down, not allowing it to resurface again.
Stepping out of the fresher dressed in his dried clothes he felt something was amiss about his outfit. He patted his pockets and shirt and couldn't find the source of the feeling. Pushing it aside along with the fear he realized he had begun to salivate. The heavenly aroma led him to the humble kitchen
"Are you hungry?" asked the woman without turning her back.
"Not very." Instead his stomach gave a vigorous growl; clearly stating it wanted to be fed.
"Of course you are." Still without facing him. "I can tell you're practically drooling over there."
She was right, Ben was hungry; so he sat at the small plasteel table.
"I really appreciate this."
"You knocked out Grub, you deserve it." Ben blushed and the waitress turned around holding two steaming bowls, obviously the source of the mouth-watering bouquet.
"Well, well, well," she smirked, placing one of the bowls down in front of him. "I could have sworn you walked into that 'fresher with dark hair."
"Dyed it."
She sat in front of him, "First things first; I never did catch your name."
"Ben," not ready to give her his surname, he added, "just Ben."
"Okay 'Just Ben', I'm Mila." she reached into her pocket and withdrew something but kept it under the table, out of Ben's sight. "But I think you're lying Just Ben." she put her hands on the table holding a very familiar light saber. "Jedi."
"How do you know I'm a Jedi?" She snorted. "How do you know I didn't kill a Jedi and take his weapon?"
"Uh-huh, it's pretty near impossible to kill a Jedi. You'd be a fool to pick a fight with one of those force users."
"Then perhaps I am a fool." For a moment neither spoke. "You obviously don't have a clean slate either Mila. What were you doing in a Coruscant back alley, with, I assume, a Black Sun operative?"
"First of all, it *is* Coruscant; the whole planet's a back alley. And it's a long story."
Ben gestured to the pouring rain and the two bowls of soup which were going to get cold if not eaten shortly. "I've got time."
IV: A Slip into the Past and a Key to the Future
"As you probably already guessed, I was not raised by parents who thought I was their precious wittle Mila. My father especially. After my mother died he turned to drinking. By the time I was fourteen he had developed numerous debts." She looked at Ben with solemn eyes. "Even after he died his debts had to be paid. One of his many liabilities was to the Black Sun. They came to the apartment two years later and killed him. Would killed me too if it weren't for Grub. He gave the idea that if we were both dead the money would still be unpaid, so, in exchange for my life I offered them my services." She sighed and sat back.
"But that doesn't explain..."she cut him off.
"For a few years I worked at a minor intelligence position. I wasn't necessarily happy, but I couldn't complain. When the debts were paid though, I wanted out. Asked for a resignation. They wouldn't have it, so, desperate for freedom, I fled. Now I'm here making minimum wage at the Rancor."
"What about Grub?"
"That greasy glob of hutt slime? He discovered me, and threatened to turn me in. Said he saved my life and owe him for it." She gave a pained smile.
"He almost hit you!"
"Yeah, wouldn't be the first time." She pushed back her sleeve to reveal a fading bruise. Ben winced.
"But why?"
"Well you're an inquisitive one, aren't you?"
"Sorry," he blushed.
"Eh, it's alright, I was supposed to provide some info on an astromech droid..."
"Artoo!"
"Excuse me?"
"Artoo-Deetoo, my father's astromech droid. He was kind of like a family pet."
"Mhm, well," she leant forward over the table, he knew what question was coming, "who is you're father exactly?"
"Uhh," could her tell her? Would she believe him? "I don't think..."
"C'mon he's just you're dad!"
"You'd think that."
"Why?"
"Because he's Luke Skywalker!" too late.
For a moment not a sound passed between them, and then Mila burst out laughing.
"Oh please! And let me guess, Vader was your gwampa!"
"He was!" he defended, ignoring her jest.
"So you're not really 'Just Ben', you're..." she stared at him then her eyes went wide. Oh gods."
V: An Opponent in the Oddest Form
"So how does this thing work?" asked Mila over breakfast the next morning.
"It's real easy, just flip the switch." They both agreed it would be best for Ben to spend the night.
"Really?" she turned on the saber and was not at all surprised when the blue blade burst to life in front of her. "Hmm, impressive," she glared at the weapon, bringing it around in a few practice strokes.
Ben set down his cup of caf, "You handle it well." He watched her parry at an invisible foe for a few moments more then turned his attention back to his sweetbread. She looked good with the weapon. Skywalker couldn't help but imagine the two of them back to back, sabers flashing.
"I'm no stranger to this kind of weapon." The saber was placed in front of him on the table.
"Lightsabers?"
"No, just general hand-to-hand combat style weapons."
They ate in silence before Mila got a huge, sly grin on her face.
"What?"
"Wanna know what I think?"
"Shoot."
"I think we should see how well you handle that glowing sword of yours."
"You're suggesting we spar?"
"Absolutely!" So excited was she that she nearly knocked over her chair in her haste. If it weren't for Ben's Jedi reflexes it would have crashed to the floor. "Good catch!" she exclaimed brushing against him as she went.
"I must warn you; I have the power of the force."
"Sure." She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the turbolift. When the doors slid closed she turned to him, "Are you scared?"
"Pffft, of course not!"
The turbo lift came to a halt and she sprinted out. Ben was amazed at what lay beyond the roof top. From the top of the building an amazing view of Coruscant could be seen. Farther out, so small it was nearly invisible, was the Jedi Temple. Never before had Ben stopped to look at the structure as an outsider. Now, with all its magnificence, he couldn't look away.
"Heads up!" called Mila. Ben barely caught the durasteel saber that was thrown at him.
"You can work with this can't you?"
Noticing Mila wielded two of the crude practice weapons, he slipped into a defense position. "Oh yeah."