DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Wars and I'm not making any money out of this.
AN This chapter contains some violence, and is the main reason the story was rated PG13. If you are uncomfortable with such scenes you may want to wait for the next chapter.
On a happier note I was very pleased to see how many people reviewed this (beside my friends). Yes, Vader will find Luke but not until the next chapter.
CHAPTER 2
Luke awoke slowly but then jumped at the complete darkness that enveloped him. It was never this dark back home. Then, the events caught up with him and he froze. Through his mounting panic he could sense everything more clearly: the ache in his muscles, the complete darkness he was in, the undisturbed silence. Calming down a bit, he realized he must be in some kind of a room but couldn't bring himself to get up and explore its width or look for a door. Deciding to do so later, once he found the courage, he huddled together, and without realizing, fell asleep.
The next time Luke opened his eyes, he felt a little better. The room was no longer dark and his body didn't hurt like before. Scanning the cell he noticed a few crates piled up in the back and decided to have a look. After discovering nothing but splinters, he sat down, leaning against a wall, staring at the door. He didn't have to wait long before he heard an approaching murmur of voices. Then, the door burst open and Luke could see the owner of the shop he had entered with Uncle Owen the other day.
Trek had one hand on the doorframe and seemed undecided whether to enter or not. After staring at the child who was staring back at him, for a full minute, he entered the small room and the door closed behind him. His face blank, Trek looked down at the child and said:
'You afraid yet? Ain't never gonna see your uncle again'
'You can drop the speech, I know you speak perfect Basic,' Luke blurted out before he could stop himself. As the man staggered a bit, the boy realized that he wasn't trying to pull anything – he was just drunk.
Just drunk, however, was not something you could say about Trek today, or any other day. He was beyond that. He had just had a quarrel with his 'associates' who all agreed the boy would bring them nothing but trouble, no matter who they tried to sell him to. They usually went for homeless, or lost kids, or kidnapped the ones they has followed for a period and found to be hard working and easy to subdue. This one was nothing like that. Living on a farm meant he probably had his share of chores, but they didn't know how well or how much he could do. He wasn't homeless, so there was the slight chance his parents (no, uncle, Trek thought) would look for him. He was also rather willful, by the way he stood up to his uncle and wasn't put off by Trek's words. The only good they could find in him was his unusual resistance to drugs, well one drug to be precise, and Trek had big plans concerning this talent.
But how to subdue him? All the other children they had had been brainwashed or terrified to such an extent they no longer knew who they were, and would do anything they were ordered. This last part had been achieved with a little help from a whip, but just a little. It was amazing how easily you could control children once they realized they had nothing left but you. Thinking back to his earlier correction, Trek approached the child who was still sitting on the floor, regarding him through sky blue eyes.
'Oh, look at the little boy, he wants to go home to mummy!'
No answer.
'I don't think your father will be too pleased that you ran away like that', Trek went on, seemingly undisturbed.
'He is not my father' the child finally answered. Luke rose from his sitting position, mentally kicking himself from not doing so before. Somehow, he knew what would come next.
'Then where is your father?' Trek asked feigning concern.
'That's none of your business' Luke said a little too loudly, and cringed anticipating the effect of his tone. But something inside him was still screaming, the pain of a six year old who grew up without a father, the longing for his real parent, the need to have him near in the good moments more than the bad. His father was dead. As far as he knew or remembered, he always had been. But that didn't make the child more accepting of his absence or less defensive of his memory.
'Did he perhaps leave you' said the man, paying attention to his wording 'because of the no good runt you are?' Luke frowned as the man continued 'Or did he just leave because there was nothing left staying for?' Luke didn't answer merely stared ahead, determination not to give this man satisfaction written all over his young features.
'Say, maybe he hates you and told your mother…'
'Shut up!' Luke yelled not being able to stand it any more, not caring what his punishment would be.
He was strangely aware that the voices in the other room had stopped, but he couldn't fight the wave that was equally pain and anger that washed over him. The next thing he felt was something he couldn't name, a whisper in his mind, a feeling in the pit of his stomach, which he had come to know as his danger alarm.
He barely had time to register this as the man's fist connected with his ribs, the force of the attack sending him to the floor. Luke didn't waste a minute and got back on his feet, before Trek could take one step in his direction. This seemed to anger the man even more as he was by his side in one stride, taking Luke by the hair and hitting him again and again. Luke fought at first, but seeing the other had the advantage tried to break free, only to be brought back by the tips of his hair. Trek caught his arm and twisted it behind his back so hard he thought his shoulder would break. Pushing him to his knees, Trek waited till the boy stopped struggling (for however short a time) before he brought his face close to that of the child.
'That was your firs lesson, slave' Trek said, his eyes boring into those of the boy. 'Never raise your voice to your master'
'You are not my master' a cracked little voice announced. As he fought back tears of pain, there was no doubt in the Luke's mind that he was not a slave and would never be.
'Really,' challenged Trek 'let's see about that. You don't have anything: you don't have a family, you don't have a place to live, you don't have friends. You can't decide what to play with, and you can't decide what you eat or when you sleep. I decide that. Me. I decide whether you live or die. I own you, and the sooner you get that, the better. You have nothing, NOTHING, not even your life is your own'
Trek though his speech went pretty well because the boy stopped fidgeting and stood (or better, kneeled, Trek thought) still. The silence was soon broken by the small voice, which seemed to have gained more power since the last time the child spoke.
'I have my name'
Trek's anger rose in an instant and he once again began to pummel the small body, eager to draw a scream or a plea for him to stop. He got none, and by the time he stepped aside, Luke was no longer fighting, buy lying bruised and motionless in the dirt. The only sound in the room was his now shallow breath, the only sigh he was alive. But as Trek stood back to admire his work, two sky blue eyes opened to stare at him. There was no anger in those wide eyes and no fear. Only pain, sadness and exhaustion.
Trek left the room, afraid that if he stayed a minute longer he would kill the kid in anger, and content as he would have been with that, there would be no future profit. He didn't want that. If the child wouldn't subject to fear and pain, maybe exhaustion would do the trick. All he had to do was work him as hard as possible, and in the end of each day, dare him to say he still had something. A name! Of all the silly things to hold to, he chose a name. What's a name? Trek and his associates had three identities this very moment and none remembered the number they had owned during their lives. He knew it was a two-digit number, anyway.
Back in the cell, Luke lay in the same position Trek left him. He wasn't afraid of the man, although he dreaded physical punishment. He didn't think his aunt and uncle would find him. Later, perhaps, when he would find out where he was, he could try to make his way back to them. Although he had very little, Luke started to think of ways to escape, if only to occupy his mind and distract it from the pain his body was in. He knew he must have some broken ribs, so he tried his best not to move, thinking it would only do him harm. He also thought he might be sick. As he felt sleep begin to claim him, he decided he had to hold on to the one thing he still had, and would always have, no matter what. His name – Luke Skywalker, which was the name of his father, who had given it to him willingly, and who loved him as much as he was loved by Luke. He soon fell asleep, small tears making their way down his cheeks.
And in the dark cell no one noticed because he was alone.
