Chapter 1

My name is Lucas and I was born as a slave. I don't remember being born, but memories of a past life bubbled up into my consciousness as I grew up. When I turned three years old, it seemed that all of the memories came together to form a complete picture, and I suddenly woke up.

After a while, I learned that I had been born to a slave, which automatically made me a slave when I grew up. Wasn't that depressing. My mother, whose name I don't remember, was a sex slave in a harem of sex slaves. I never had a room to myself, and had to share with all of the harem members.

It took me a while to figure out what time period I was in. Apparently the future, based upon all the strange tech everyone used. I didn't figure out that I was in the Star Wars verse until much harem members lived in dorms and worked in a different wing of the building. I have never been let out of the dorm, so it was up to the members of the harem to teach me things such as how to speak the language, how to read and write, and some basic math.

Once I found out that I was reborn into Star Wars I first laughed at my name and then started crying once I found out I can use the 'Force'. Star Wars was one of the fictional universes I didn't want to be reborn into especially with the 'Force'. With being Force sensitive I was bound into the cluster fuck known to me as the stupid war of idealologies between the Jedi and Sith. I just didn't want to be used as a pawn by some cosmic being.

My mother walked into the harem dormitory. When she got to the corner in which I was working on a math problem, I noticed that she was crying.

"What's wrong, mother?" I asked, a bit concerned. My mother had been a strong woman. I had never seen her cry in my current life, even when one of the men had been rough with her.

"Oh, Lucas," she said, "I'm worried."

"Worried why?" I asked.

"A man came today, I know this man." She said. "He often buys young children."

"Are you worried that he will take me and not you?" I asked.

"No, it's not that." Said mother. "It's just, there are rumors."

I felt a sudden flickering of fear. Looking into my mother's face, I realized that she was afraid too. Which was scary in and of itself. In the brief time I had known her, my mother had only rarely looked afraid. I could imagine many things that she was scared of, and none of them were good. But I had to confirm.

"Mother," I said. "What are these rumors."

She suddenly looked reluctant to tell me, but I wasn't having any of that.

"Mother, it is important that you tell me," I said. "so we can figure out what to do."

"There is nothing that you can do," she said, tears still streaming down her face. "Gobda still owns you. We don't have a choice if he decides to sell you."

"We always have a choice," I said. "please, mother. I need to know."

Mother looked at me for a long moment, her face indecisive. She sighed.

"Ok." Mother said. "they say that man, he… he… he s-s-sells children to-to child-sex trade owners."

My worst fears confirmed.

"When?" I asked simply. My mother seemed to know what I was talking about, for she said

"I don't know. It could be in an hour; it could be weeks from now."

I nodded. After I woke up, I remembered mother getting compliments on how pretty her child had looked. I had thought long and hard about this particular scenario, along with many others, after I had realized that I was a slave now and not in control of my own life and future. The possibility had long been in the back of my mind, and now that horrible possibility was now horrible reality.

But I knew what to do in this scenario. I had remembered from my past life that pedophiles liked young people for their youth, and prettiness. So all I had to do was make myself not look young or pretty.

"I know how to fix this," I said to my mother.

"How?" asked the mother, who looked both confused and relieved. If she knew what I had in store, I bet she would not have looked so relieved.

"Follow me." I said.

We walked into the dorm fitting room. Going to one of the dressers, I made sure to block the view of the camera. Opening one of the drawers, I pulled out a small mirror and a hair comb. I then led my mother to a corner where no camera could see. Using the hair comb, I shattered the mirror and pulled out a large fragment.

"What are you doing,Lucas?" asked mother.

"Making sure I'm not sold into the child sex trade." I replied solemnly.

"How?" asked mother, who was looking confused.

"The child sex trade thrives on children who look young and pretty," I explained. "what i'm going to do is make it so that I don't look young and pretty."

Mother's eyes widened. She looked from the mirror shard in my hand to my solemn face. She seemed to comprehend my plan.

"Lucas, NO!" she protested.

"Leave." I said firmly. "If they think you did this, they will kill you."

"They will kill you too!" She pleaded. "You'll die if you do this!"

"I will die if I become I child sex slave." I said in a dead tone. "I could die if I do, I will die if I don't. At least if I do this, I'll have a shot at surviving."

Mother's tears were back in full force. She hugged me, tightly.

"Ok." She said. "Ok. Just. Please. Promise me you won't go too far."

"I won't, I promise." I said.

She gave me a tearful nod, and left.

I took off my shirt, and looked at the shard of mirror in my hand. For a moment, I just gazed at my reflection in it. Then I held it to my arm, and pulled.

I woke up to pain. Mutilating myself had been hard, but at least I had some endorphins to power through it. I didn't move, as it was too painful. Instead, I simply lay on the midibed. I could feel kolto bandages all over my torso and face. I heard voices.

"It's truly the same." Said one voice that seemed rough and low. "He would have made a fine sex slave."

The 'Force' told me that the man had a dark aura. Much like the large mass of flesh that I guessed was Gobda. Gobda seemed harder to sense, however.

"Hmmp," said the voice of Gobda. "If he hadn't injured himself so much already, I would have had him flogged within an inch of life."

"What do you plan to do with him?" asked another voice, who I guess was a man.

"There will be other buyers." said Gobda. "Probably sell him into hard labor, the ungrateful brat."

"I see." Said the man. "If that is all?"

"Yes, the others will be transferred into your custody," said Gobda. "and the druggats?"

"Transferred to your account," Said the man. "A pleasure doing business with you."

It seemed that the man and Gobda had left. I was alone with my thoughts. I had dodged a bullet. I would take hard labor over being a child sex slave any day.

Three years later.

I was on a freighter, bound to a destination that I did not know of. I was now seven years old. The ships fresher had backed up, so now everyone was forced to shit and piss in buckets, and the bucket's contents would be thrown out an airlock. Sitting in a far corner, I thought about the life I had so far.

The past four years were interesting to say the least. Gobda had eventually sold me to a man who dealt in educated slaves. I spent the next three years in a really hard school that trained me in math, science, computers, and mechanics, with the overhanging threat of being sent to a hard labor camp if I failed. With that kind of motivation and with the help of 'Force', I learned as much as I could, and got the certificate in as little as three years. I was currently sound asleep while on board a ship to Tatowine until I heard a voice inside my head.

"Why do you have so many scars?" I was interrupted from my thoughts by a small, sandy haired kid. Who looked very familiar

"You wouldn't want to know." I said, smiling at the kid. He pouted in it was almost cute.

"Pleassse?" he whined, then leaned in a conspiratorial whisper "I won't tell anyone."

I opened my mouth to tell him to piss-off, but I was interrupted.

"Anakin." A dark-hair woman came up behind the child. "How many times have I told you! Don't disturb the other slaves."

"But Mooom…" said Anakin.

"But nothing," said the woman, who then turned to me. "I'm sorry young man, was he disturbing you?"

I stared up at the woman, for a moment.

"No, it's ok." I said. "I'm Lucas."

"Shmi." Said the woman, who then smiled sadly. "were you separated from your family?"

"Yeah, a few years ago," I said gruffly.

"Would you like to come sit with us?" asked Shmi.

"Sure, beats being on my own."

As I followed Shmi back to her area, I wondered at my strange luck. What were the odds that I would end up on the same freighter as Anakin Skywalker?

Your destiny is all but set, you must guide the one towards his destiny.

Fuck the Force.

As I sat down next to Shmi and Anakin, there was only one thing I knew for certain.