Belle and Luke soon arrived at the dinner table; Owen and Beru were already there, eating their food and drinking a blue-colored liquid that reminded Belle somewhat of milk. As had been usual, there had been no prayers given, which at the moment suited her, though it did argue with her upbringing. It angered her about how the droids were being treated; Luke spoke of some kind of revolt occurring should droids be made fully aware of their status, and Belle would hardly be surprised if they did, considering the kind of treatment she had seen.
What was said next hardly helped her feel better; before he even sat down at the table, he said, "You know, I think that R2 unit we bought might have been stolen."
'Stolen'? 'Kidnapped' would be more appropriate in this scenario, Belle thought to herself.
"What makes you think that?" Owen asked.
"Well, me and Belle stumbled across a recording while we were cleaning him up," Luke said, "He says he belongs to someone named 'Obi-Wan Kenobi'."
At the mention of the name, Belle noticed Owen and Beru glance at each other cautiously before looking back down at their plates. They knew something…she could sense it somehow.
"Pardon me for asking," she said, "But do you know who that is?"
Owen replied with a gruff little moan, hardly looking up from his plate.
"Very well," Belle said, "Perhaps he is related to Ben in some way…we—I mean, someone should get into contact with him and—"
"That wizard's just a crazy old man," Owen declared, abruptly cutting her off. "Tomorrow, I want you," he said to Luke, "to take that R2 unit to Anchorhead and have its memory erased. That'll be the end of it; it belongs to us, now."
"Its memory erased?" Belle asked disbelievingly. Part of her wanted to know how that was possible, but a greater part of her felt more concerned about the fact that an intelligent creature was going to lose something very dear to it. "That's just a little extreme, don't you think?"
"Yeah," Luke said, "What if this 'Obi-Wan' comes looking for it?"
"He won't," Owen said. "I don't think he even exists anymore. He died about the same time as your father."
"He knew my father?" Luke asked.
"I told you to forget it," Owen said, "Your only concern is to prepare those new droids for tomorrow. In the morning, I want them up on the South Ridge working on those condensers."
"Yes sir," Luke said quietly, and then added, "I think those new droids are going to work out, fine. In fact I've, um…been also thinking about our agreement, about staying on another season?"
Owen looked at him with a glance tinged with what could only be anxiety.
Luke went on. "And if these new droids DO work out, I want to transmit my application to the Academy THIS year."
"You mean the next semester before the harvest?" Owen asked.
"Sure! There's more than enough droids," Luke explained, "and you've got Belle, here, too."
Belle wasn't sure how to respond to this. She thoroughly acknowledged that, yes, she was a hired hand, but for some reason it felt like she was a droid, too.
"But harvest is when I need you the most!" Owen protested, "It's only one season more, and Belle isn't going to be around here for much longer, anyway."
Luke merely responded with a despondent moment of silence. Seeing this, Belle wondered how long he had been planning this proposition…and more so, she began to wonder why Owen seemed so keen on keeping him around. Now that she had taken the time to notice, she saw that Luke was right, what with all these droids around—not that she supported this whole 'droid labor' thing.
"This year, we'll be able to make enough at the harvest that I'll be able to hire more hands," Owen continued, "and then you'll be able to go to the academy next year. You must understand; I need you here, Luke."
"But it's a whole 'nother year!" Luke protested.
"It's only one more season."
"Yeah," Luke groaned, "That's what you said when Biggs and Tank left, and that's what you'll say when Belle leaves, too."
He then got up from the table and headed towards the exit.
"Where are you going?" Beru asked.
"Looks like I'm going nowhere," Luke answered as he walked off, "Those droids still need cleaning, anyway."
Belle soon found herself alone with the older couple in a thoroughly awkward situation. No one said a word for some time.
"I'm sorry you had to sit through that, Belle," Beru said at last.
"Oh no, it's alright," she replied, "It's none of my business anyway…" She wolfed down the last morsels on her plate as quickly as she could, and said, "Pardon me, and thank you for the meal," before standing up and walking out of the dining hall.
However, before she had gone for more than twenty paces, she overheard Beru and Owen speaking.
"Owen, he can't stay here forever," Beru's soft voice lilted in the distance, "Most of his friends have gone! It means so much to him."
"I'll make it up to him next year," Owen's voice replied, "I promise."
It didn't take much to detect some half-hearted insincerity in that promise.
"Luke's just not a farmer, Owen," Beru said, "He has too much of his father in him."
"That's what I'm afraid of," the older man admitted.
Before she could be spotted and quite possibly berated, Belle decided it would be best if she hurried along. She went along to the hallway back to her bedroom, and took a moment to lean against the wall and mull things over for a bit.
She had work to do, that much was true. However, the last bit of exchange alerted some curiosity in her, particularly about Luke's father…All Luke had said of him was that he had been a navigator on a spice freighter, but that was what, not who. Who was that man of whom Luke had inherited so much of his personality from? What kind of person was he like? Was it her place to ask? Given how much Owen had been reluctant as to so much as discuss an old associate of Luke's father, she had the feeling that there existed at least some degree of disagreement between the two. Perhaps it had been a consequence of a choice of lifestyles…? But then again, these were personal matters after all, and she was only a temporary hand here, a stranger who only now was beginning to get a handle on the ways of this world. She deduced that, were she to ask Owen and Beru directly, they might wave over the whole matter entirely as they did with the mysterious person called Obi-Wan…or worse, fire her for questioning the status quo in a place where she was but a visitor. Given her situation, that could not be afforded.
Sooner than she anticipated, the afternoon turned to evening, and the evening slowly began turning to night. Belle had spent the last remaining hours of the day taking a rest and thinking things over; in the end, her thoughts turned from the character of the Senior Skywalker to how things were going on back home. Even now, she turned the white gem over through her fingers as she lay in bed, trying to catch glimpses of some other world she didn't know about.
She thought about Papa; how did he fare without her? The last time she saw him, he had been dragged out of a prison cell and carted away in a legged carriage. But did he arrive at home safely? Was he able to take care of himself well enough? The loss of her mother had been hard enough on him…enough to make him pack things up and move to the countryside. The responsibility of taking care of the day-to-day business of the farm mostly fell upon Belle's shoulders, especially with her father's advancing age. Could he take care of himself?
These thoughts had been on her mind ever since she had become a permanent guest at the castle, and thus were nothing new, save for the increased amount of distance.
Then the thought of the Beast came to her mind; what of him? The thought of him tearing apart the countryside in search of her filled her with dread…and yet, the more she thought about it, the less likely it seemed that he would do that. True, she would've assumed he'd do that the first couple of months into her stay, but ever since that night with the wolves, he had slowly begun to change, becoming more civil, more easy-going, and more gentle…was that really because of her mere presence in his secluded world?
Now that that had become a possibility, so did his rampaging through the countryside after her.
She heard steps coming down the corridor, and suddenly she remembered her duty. Reacting to the thought of being caught slacking off, she hurried off of the bed and sauntered her way back to the garage—only to run into Luke, who looked just as panicked as she did, if not more so.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"That R2 unit," he said, "C-3PO said it ran off! I can't find him anywhere!"
For a moment, Belle shared in his distress—only to have it replaced with something of a smug look.
"What's that for?" he asked.
"Did you really expect anything else?" she asked.
C-3PO came up from behind him. "I'm so sorry, sir! The way he kept babbling on about his 'mission', I really should have done something!"
"Oh, come on and help me find him," he said bitterly, "He can't have gone far."
Belle followed along, but inside, she couldn't help but cheer for the little droid, and hoped that his flight for freedom wouldn't be in vain. It did surprise her, however, how swiftly and stealthily R2 had managed to escape them all; his design didn't seem to take that into account.
They followed Luke out into the open desert, where the growing absence of the suns had an immediate, chilling effect on the air. Luke pulled out a pair of binoculars and peered around the dark, barren landscape surrounding the homestead.
Coming up from behind them, C-3PO observed, "That R2 unit has always been a problem. These astro droids are getting quite out of hand; even I can't understand their logic at times."
"How could I be so stupid?" Luke questioned as he put down the binoculars, "He's nowhere in sight. Blast it!"
"Pardon me, sir, but couldn't we go after him?" C-3PO asked.
"It's too dangerous with all the Sand People around. We'll have to wait until morning."
Suddenly, Uncle Owen's voice called out from below. "LUKE! I'm shutting the power down!"
"Alright, we'll be there in a few minutes!" Luke called back, and then said, "Boy, am I going to get it. You know, that little droid's going to cost me a lot of trouble."
"Oh, he excels at that, sir." C-3PO replied.
"I hope you have some sort of tactical scheme to reacquire your droid without arousing your legal guardian's suspicion," Belle stated.
Luke just gave her a funny look.
Sighing, Belle said, "Do you have a plan?"
"Well, of course I've got a plan!" Luke said, "I'll go and look for him early in the morning, but I need you to stay here. If they ask, you tell Owen and Beru that I had some things to do before work, and that I took the droids with me."
"You want me to lie to them?" she said incredulously.
"R2 can't have gone too far," Luke rationalized, "I'll be back before too long, probably before you even have to say anything!"
"I'm sorry, but I don't want to lose my wage because I was part of some conspiracy over something that wasn't my fault!" she protested.
"Just do this for me this one time," he asked, "I'll never ask you to do something like this again. I promise!"
Personally, she felt more sympathy for the escaped droid and more inclination to stay out of this mess than she did to help Luke out with this.
And yet…
"Alright, fine," she sighed as they returned back inside, "But you owe me for this."
The next day came hot and dry as it always did, but Luke could not be found, as Belle had expected. As she had further come to expect, Beru, and eventually Owen, came asking for him, and she gave them the answer Luke had told her to give them…and it grieved her inside to have to lie to them. Perhaps this would be a small thing in the long run, though; besides, she could probably get back at him for this by telling the truth on the day she left this place for the spaceport. The thought of that day alone prompted her to lightly tap the white jewel safe in her pocket.
What she didn't expect, however, was how long Luke would take to get back; right up until midday she kept awaiting their return, and with each passing hour her suspicion that R2 had gotten too far away to track was strengthened.
Luke's prolonged absence was not lost on Owen, as he repeatedly grumbled about Luke taking his time and the South Ridge needing attending. While they were eating lunch, it finally came to a head. "Blasted kid must have gotten distracted somewhere in Anchorhead, or something. Belle," he said to her, "the vaporators on the South Ridge are not going to maintain themselves."
"I understand, monsieur," she said.
"You think you can handle the job by yourself?" he asked.
"I believe so," she answered.
"Very good," he said.
With that, she finished her lunch, slipped on her work-clothes, and grabbed the toolbox Luke used from the garage. While there, she noted the absence of one of the vehicles, the one that lacked any wheels or legs and yet hovered effortlessly above the ground. A vehicle that moved without the aid of a horse was one thing, but one that moved without wheels was quite another; she would have loved to have seen it in action (she couldn't imagine how Papa would've responded), but Luke and C3P0 had left by the time she had awoken.
Her business finished there, she headed out of the pit (with a water container and a warning from Beru to watch out for 'wamp rats'), heading in a vaguely south direction—she felt grateful that the suns rose from east to west like the sun did back home. The bright sunlight immediately caused her to slip on the protective goggles she had been provided, but she hadn't been out in the sun for more than five minutes before the sweltering heat provoked her skin into sweating torrents down her skin. Only three days, and yet she still hadn't gotten used to this yet—on the bright side, she wouldn't have to deal with sunburns thanks to the loose, yet protective sleeves.
Above all this, she had to wonder: where on this planet were Luke and the droids? Had this been a simple retrieval effort, they would have been back a long time ago. It seemed that Owen had the right idea; perhaps he was delayed by something, but what? She knew for a fact that it couldn't have been some new gadget…then she remembered all the talk about Sand People…
She lifted her eyes off of the ground for a moment to check on her surroundings and make sure she was headed in the right direction—and then, in the distance, she spotted something moving. A tiny, light grey speck on the horizon, it floated above the earth effortlessly…was it a mirage produced by the desert heat?
Given what she had seen thus far, she knew better than to brush it off as such. Grabbing the binoculars, she peered through and searched for the object in question, accidentally discovering a switch on the device that allowed her to 'zoom' in or out (it being the only word she could think of to describe it). At last, she found it in her view; it seemed to her like some sort of floating skiff covered in thick iron plating, with a strange device bearing twin tubes on the rear. Sitting inside were several figures clad in white; were they droids, perhaps? Their heads, certainly unlike anything she had seen certainly suggested so; at the very least, in an abstract sort of way, reminded her of a skull…however, even from here, she could see black in the joints between the white armor. She realized that these figures moved too flexibly to be droids; these were definitely people, soldiers most likely, judging by the jet-black musket-like weapons they carried.
And their vessel was coming straight in her direction, coming in closer and closer with each second that flew by.
Almost immediately Belle sensed something wrong about this. She couldn't put it into words, though…
Deciding that it would be the best course of action, Belle abandoned her task with the vaporators and ran in the opposite direction, back towards the little white dome as fast as her two feet could carry her across the dry ground. She got there sooner than she estimated, calling out for Owen and Beru as she sprinted down the stairs towards them.
"What is it, dear?" Beru asked, "Is it Sand People?"
"I don't know," she answered between breaths, "They're in a vehicle…and wore white armor…they're coming this way!"
"Are you sure?" Owen asked.
She nodded vigorously, and followed him up the stairs as he pulled out his own binoculars for him to peer through. As he gazed out from the doorway, his expression changed from surprise to something between terror and anger. "Stormtroopers," he growled, "Blast it! What do they want?"
Beru drew her close. "Now listen," she said to her, "You get inside and stay hidden while we handle this; we'll let you know when it's okay to come out."
"Why?" she asked.
"There's no telling what they want," she explained, "For all we know, it's nothing good. Now go, go!"
Heeding her words, Belle headed down the dark staircase. She nearly went further inside, but something stopped her…and she realized what it was.
She ducked behind a corner and cocked her ear towards the door. She had to know what would follow next.
For a few minutes, nothing happened; only the occasional gust of wind blowing sand and dust against the dome, along with the constant hum of the gadgets around her pervaded. No human voice uttered a word.
Then, slowly but surely, a soft thrumming noise became audible. Louder and louder it grew, until a thick cloud of dust blew in from the open doorway alongside a monotonous roar, blended with dozens of other small noises.
Heavy boots crashed upon the soil, grinding it beneath their sole as they moved forward.
"What do you want?" Owen called out.
"Sir," a man's voice said, though it came through as buzzy and filled with a small amount of static. She could only assume it was the leader of the stormtroopers. "We're going to have to ask you to hand over two droids."
Belle didn't like the tone of this man at all; though clearly trained to speak with a militaristic rigidity, he spoke with a commanding and condescending air. It reminded her too much of a certain suitor back home in the village…though with less flaunt.
"Excuse me?" Owen asked, "I don't understand; what droids are you talking about?"
"Yesterday, you came into the possession of two droids, a protocol droid and an astromech, from a tribe of Jawas," the stormtrooper said, "Is that correct?"
From her hiding place, Belle quickly deduced that they were referring to R2-D2 and C-3P0. She remembered discussion of an Empire, of a Rebellion, and of C-3PO's reporting of a 'secret mission' of some sort…
"Assuming you're right," Owen countered, "What do you want with them?"
"They're stolen Imperial property. Hand over the droids, immediately—as well as the girl."
Belle's heart within her nearly froze over.
"What girl?" Owen asked.
"A wanted criminal, a traitor to the Empire," the stormtrooper explained, "Hand her over along with the droids."
Belle didn't feel so much concern over the slander as she did about the fact that these stormtroopers knew that she so much as existed. How could that be possible? But then she thought of Owen and Beru; would they believe what this man said? More so than before, she listened closely to what would follow next, fearing for her life…
"Well, I'm sorry, sir," Owen's voice came through, "But I'm pretty sure there's no Imperial droids or criminals here."
She sighed in relief.
But then the stormtrooper commanded, "Step aside; we're searching the place."
"Over my dead body," Owen countered angrily, "You've no right to do this, not out here."
"We're under orders from the Imperial Senate. Now stand aside."
"NO."
A pause broke out between them. Belle could only imagine them staring each other in the eye, trying to break the other's will…
"What's your name, civilian?" the trooper asked.
"Owen Lars. What is it to you?"
"Stay where you are, for a moment."
The boots crunched away for a short distance, and Belle wondered what changed. Perhaps this man was deliberating what to do, but why?
She heard hushed voices, but not of Beru or Owen; they were of the lead stormtrooper, discussing something with someone.
Suddenly the voices stopped, and the crunching boots returned, along with several more. She heard sounds of a struggle from up above.
"Owen Lars," the stormtrooper's voice came in, "By the authority of Lord Vader, you are charged with interfering with an Imperial investigation, and with high treason to the Empire. You have been sentenced to immediate execution."
What? NO! Was this because of her! No, this wasn't right! She had to go up there and save them; she didn't care what happened to her, so long as these good people lived!
She started to get up onto her feet so that she could run up the stairs and turn herself in—
Suddenly, two high-pitched blasts, along with red bursts of light, deafened her as they echoed down the stairway.
Inside of her erupted a terrible, heartbroken scream at what happened, though no voice uttered it. How could she have let them die for her…and for Luke? How could she have simply stood by and let this happen?
"Alright, torch the bodies and search the place," the lead stormtrooper commanded.
With her own survival suddenly at stake, Belle turned and sprinted for somewhere, anywhere, for her to hide in; she would not let the Lars' sacrifice be in vain.
Suddenly, she found it; there, in the wall, stood a grate, that stood slightly ajar into a ventilation shaft. Better yet, it looked as though she could fit in it.
Having no time to question whether or not she could, she crawled in and tucked in as much of herself as she could, closing the grate behind her right as the stormtroopers filed in brandishing their black weapons. They only briefly scanned the room before moving on, unaware of the fact that a human being had just slipped under their very noses. But still, she didn't dare to relax; her life depended on it.
She heard the sound of flames bursting, and worse, of something burning.
Her stay behind the grate door seemed to last too long for an eternity—a terrifying, agonizing eternity.
Before she knew it, however, the stormtroopers marched back on through and up the stairs, leaving her alone again.
"There's no one else here, sir," one of the troopers reported, "The place is empty."
"Alright then," the commanding officer said, "Blast the place as we're taking off. Make it look like a Tusken Raider attack."
"Just like what we did with the Jawas?"
"That's right, soldier, now get moving."
After several minutes, a couple of blasts ruptured the air and sent tremors shivering through the earth. Smoke began to billow through the room, along with the heat of fire.
Still, Belle didn't move until she heard the roar of their transport die away into the distance.
By the time that had happened, the smoke became dark as it flooded the room and stung her eyes, and the choke of the fumes unbearable, forcing her to abandon her hiding place at long last and charge up the stairs into the open. Thankfully, no squadron of troopers was there to greet her. Once she had gotten out of the line of smoke and as far away as she could, she collapsed on to the ground, coughing out the smoke that had wormed its way into her lungs.
After a few moments, she found she could breathe easier. She turned around to look at the black pillars of smoke rising from the homestead she had just escaped…and found, at the very bottom of the doors, the bodies of the Lars', cleaned of bone by flame itself.
From there, she turned burst into tears, finally freeing a cry of despair from her lips.
How long did she lie on the baked earth, crying her eyes out? She didn't know, nor did she care. All she knew was that two people had lied in the face of these powerful men and died, all on her behalf. Okay, well that wasn't entirely true; after all, they did have Luke to protect, but why her as well? He was practically their son; she was just a hired hand, and for all they knew, she could've been a wanted criminal…so why? Why?
She heard something whine over the earth over the roar of the flames and the crackling of the smoke, and heard shoes make contact with the soil.
"Uncle Owen? Aunt Beru?" Luke's voice shouted out, "Belle?"
With great difficulty, she pulled herself up and around to see Luke, his speeder behind him, stare in shock at the destruction before him. Seeing her on the ground, he rushed forward to help her up.
"Luke, I'm so sorry," she sobbed, "They just came and…and…" she couldn't bring herself to speak any more.
He didn't cry, but looking up at him, he could see the pain in her eyes.
They sat together for some time, watching the smoke rise into the air. From out of the grief, though, Belle felt an anger rising within her; anger at the stormtroopers for carrying out this deed, anger at this 'Lord Vader' for giving the order, and most of all, anger at herself for not having done anything. She had stood back and let them take the fall for her. How could she?
Never again, she swore within herself. No one will die for me ever again.