'A Wish Come True'

Chapter 9

Luke worked diligently, having finished the diagnostic tests on all six of the droids the master had pulled of the west ridge, he stared at the readouts as they popped out of the computer. Four of them only needed an oil bath while the remaining two did need a motivator but that was no reason to pull the entire complement off the west ridge.

Activating the hoist, he loaded the four droids that only needed an oil bath; though the bin could fit three easily, he jammed the fourth in to get things done quicker. In addition, with four droids ready to go within the hour, there was no need to leave the slaves there once they were finished. Rummaging through the new crate of parts Luke found the two motivators he was looking for, grabbing a sonic screwdriver and a set of hydrospanners he started working on the remaining two droids. If all went well he'd have them al ready to go within the hour, with an hour to transport them to the west ridge he'd have the other slaves home and safe before half the day was gone.

Closing the panel to the R-2 unit he just replaced the motivator on he couldn't help but wonder how long had he kept this particular droid running. It had been the last droid he and his Uncle had purchased days before his Aunt and Uncle were killed in the attack from the Empire.

"Jeesh, you're older than the unit I'm fixing now," He said to the droid, who just bleeped in return.

Throwing the tools he'd used on the workbench he checked the timer on the oil bath, seeing that it had another twenty minutes to go he decided to go tell the master that the droids would be up and ready to go soon. Assuring that the restraining bolts were secure on the two droid not in the oil bath he headed to the house.

He was almost to the house when the feeling of dread hit him he'd felt things like this before and that usually meant that there was trouble somewhere. He'd felt the same thing just before the attack that took his aunt and uncle but not knowing what it meant he attributed that feeling to some bad blue milk he had drank. Several other times he had the same feeling since the attack and eventually he learned that when he felt like this something was wrong… terribly wrong.

Looking towards the west, he could only think that something bad was happening out on the west ridge. Scared that if he'd left without telling the master he'd be in for a punishment when he returned. But the feeling wouldn't subside it seemed that each time he'd take a step towards the house the feeling got stronger and this feeling was a little different than the others this one had the added feeling that ants were crawling all over his body.

Throwing caution to the wind he succumbed to the feeling, and headed for the remaining barge his master told him to use to take the droids back to the west ridge. However, that would take at least an hour to get to the ridge, he needed something faster and the only other mode of transportation was the master's T-16 Skyhopper. If he took that, the master was sure to beat him and toss him into the box for god knows how long. However, the feeling persisted if he saved the slaves if they were in fact in trouble, then maybe the master would praise him for saving the them thus saving him credits in the end by not having to replace the slaves.

It was a lot to think about but in the end, he did it not because of what the master might do to him, but what all the slaves had done for him while he was in the box. It only seemed right if in fact they were in danger as the feeling had told him. If need be would be his life was theirs if it saved their lives, after all they put the same on the line sitting with him during his time in the box, and not just because of what might attack them during the night but also what the master would do to them if he caught them.

Grabbing the blaster rifle that hung over the door of the maintenance shack he jumped into the T-16 and powered it up; sneaking into it when-- whenever the master wasn't looking, he knew the exact sequence to use to do a quick power up and off he went. With the speed the T-16 he'd be there in a matter of minutes. Reaching top speed of six hundred kilometers per hour, he whispered as he stared intently towards his target- the west ridge.

"Hold on Barriss I'm coming."

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The west ridge was one of the masters biggest producers of water, the vaporators here seemed to produce double of the lesser stations on the farm. Which prompted the master to build a small but sizable shack to keep up on the maintenance of the moisture vaporators and monitor their systems; it was also the reason that this particular ridge had a complement of six droids rather then the usual two. The ridge consisted of ten vaporators spread over a four thousand meter square.

At one point the west ridge had shut down for a couple if weeks due to the Sand People tampering with the vaporators; not only hurting Barrokk's credit flow, the Sand People were now cut off from their main supply of water. Where they didn't tolerate the presence of people working there they did how ever tolerate the droid complement that Barrokk had placed there after losing four of five slaves he had working the ridge due to attacks. Droids did as were programmed and were not curious as to what was going on around them.

Fanngorr and Barriss worked fast and cautiously knowing of the west ridges infestation of Sand People, as the master called it, he had the other two slaves keep watch while he and Barriss checked gages, did adjustments, and bottled up water when prompted by alarms.

It was a long repetitive process and one that neither he nor the other slaves liked to do especially when the threat of attack could come at any moment by intolerable Sand people.

They had been working for nearly three hours and all had been going well having the two slaves checking in every fifteen minutes to assure that they were ok and everything was clear. However, when an attack from Sand People came you never knew it until it was over and by then the only thing to do was pray that death would be quick and painless.

The two had already bottled up seventy-four bottles of water without so much as a break; Fanngorr had insisted that they work fast and constant so they could leave earlier. Having bottled so much water already, the barge they came in would only take eighty bottles at a time plus them, and at the rate they were bottling, they would probably triple, maybe quadruple that by days end, thus having to do two maybe three trips to bring the water back home. Moreover, that was something that Fanngorr was not happy with at all.

Placing the seventy-fifth bottles next to the others, he checked the chronometer on the wall and saw that the other two slaves had missed their check-in time by several minutes. Worried he instructed Barriss to stay in side while he checked on the situation outside, and no matter what she heard, she was not to come out.

Faangor had only taken two steps out the door when he was slammed from behind knocking him to the ground. Shaken but not totally out of it he rolled over just in time to see a Tusken swinging his gaffi stick, for yet another blow. Moving at the last second the Tusken missed and being unbalanced from his swing he in turn received a kick to the stomach from Fanngorr; sending him to the ground. Unfortunately, the Tusken Raider wasn't alone now from two different directions he was attacked; gaffi sticks hitting him repeatedly until the blows were too many to count, his last waking thought was of Barriss and what was to happen to her. Screaming in victory the two Tusken Raiders raised their gaffi sticks in victory as they stood over the bloody and lifeless body of Fanngorr.

Barriss heard the screams of the Sand People and frantically moved about the station looking for some place to hide. But aside from the bottles she and Fanngorr had stacked the only other place to hide was behind the panel which monitored the output of the vaporators; opting for that she hopes that the Sand People would just come in, take the water, and be on their way. However, that hope was fleeting for what she new about the Sand People was that they were efficient in their scavenging they left nothing unturned, and equally efficient in leaving no one left alive if they found them hiding.

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Emperor Skywalker awoke, an alarm was signaling him that he was close to the transition point from hyperspace. Still somewhat drained from the concentration talisman he eyed it as it sat on the console before him. Flipping the switch he transitioned his ship back into real space and plotted his course for the far side of Tatooine, where his Stepbrother's farm was located. Retrieving the talisman, he stared at it shortly before placing it into a storage bin behind his seat.

Gazing at the planet before him he tried to dismiss the last time he was here and concentrate at what he was there for now, but the memories and visions still plagued his mind. He was finding it more difficult to suppress those thoughts and deal with the task at hand; knowing that those thoughts were the reason for him coming back to this desolate dust ball of a planet that now only held painful memories for him.

Ignoring the hails from the spaceport he didn't have to worry about being attacked; not that the Emperor of the known galaxy worried, for Tatooine had no real authority, and what authority it did have was the small complement he had sent.

Entering Tatooine's atmosphere he directed the ship to the Dune Sea where the Lars homestead was located. In a matter of moments he hoped what had forced him to come back to the dreaded planet would be there ready for him to deal with. However, that was the best-case scenario, and nothing ever came easily to Anakin Skywalker, not as a young padawan and certainly not as the Emperor.

Seeing the homestead on the horizon he cut the ships throttle deciding that landing to close might alert whoever was there; if any one, that he was coming. Setting down a couple of kilometers away, he walked the remaining distance to the homestead.

Leaving the ship, he remembered how much he hated the sand.

"It gets into everything," he remembered saying to Padme'.

Expecting to see the burnt out remains of the homestead he was surprised to see that it was in fact in good condition and in working order. Heading straight for the house he had hoped that his stepbrother and sister in-law were still there and alive, but knowing in the back of his mind that, that wasn't true. 'Then who had dared to barge into his families home,' he thought; whoever it was now would face the wrath of Emperor Skywalker Dark Lord of the Sith.

Barrokk still sat in his den gloating at the deal he had just made with his friend, the more he thought about it the more it was pushing him to sell the whole farm and leave this god-forsaken planet. Feeling a little hungry, he decided that a sandwich was in order and headed for the kitchen. However, when he got there what he saw, or rather who he saw chased that feeling away. Knowing who he was his first thing he did was drop to his knees.

"My Emperor what can this humble farmer do for you?" Barrokk asked trembling from head to toe.

Emperor Skywalker stood his hands on his hips anger building as he stared at the person who knelt before him, he did not look like a farmed nor did he dress like one.

"You are no farmer, why do you lie to me?"

Barrokk to afraid to look up found himself not kneeling on the floor but held several meters above it now plastered against the wall, being held by no one.

"I'm sorry my Emperor but I do not lie I am a farmer."

"No, you are a slave master, you do not have the look of the farmer that lived here before you, I ask you again, why do you lie to me?"

Barrokk now filled completely with fear was speechless to answer; and Emperor Skywalker sensed that fear, it was refreshing to him, it replenished him, but his patience was growing short. Knowing that in the end the slave master would lie dead before him he released his Force grip allowing Barrokk to stand. Stepping closer he again reiterated his question.

"Why… do you lie to me, and the answer you give will decide weather or not you live."

With a trembling voice, Barrokk answered.

"Mm…y Emperor, all who live in the outer rim know of your hatred for slavers, and I assure you that the ones in my care are well taken care of, they want for nothing."

"That has yet to be seen, and in my experience that is also a lie, where are your slaves I wish to speak to them?" Emperor Skywalker asked adjusting his tone, to be less threatening giving the slave master a false sense of security.

"Most are on the west ridge, but one remains here, Luke… Luke… I don't know his last name but he's in the maintenance shack repairing some droids."

"Luke, his name is Luke?" The Emperor replied.

That was the name Padmé had given their son in his vision. Could it be that he was his son, could this be the Luke he was looking for, and lastly could it be this easy would he just walk into the maintenance shack and there doing what he use to do as a child, would be his son.

"Take me to him… now!" Emperor Skywalker demanded using the Force to enhance his tone.

"It's this way my liege," Barrokk replied scrambling for the stairs that lead out of the homestead.