Disclaimer – Lucas owns the characters in this story. He's hidden them away somewhere dark and dusty whilst he's got his mind on episode2, so I snuck in and broke them out for a quick jaunt in the sunshine. I wish I was making money from them, but unfortunately it's all in the name of 'fun'.
Setting – Eight years post Episode Three.
Note: this is an old, old story which isn't the finest piece I've ever written! I'm only leaving it here for posterity. It was written before the release of AOTC - hence Owen and Beru's background is somewhat different to the canon explanation for their relationship to Luke.
ANAKIN AGAIN?
Episode Five - Desolation
Chapter One
Saffa piloted whilst Tate and Jenn argued. Marr was unusually silent. She gunned the ship out beyond Mos Espa and the sprawling sand-and-mud dwellings in the slave quarters and had it over the desert before she switched over to the autopilot to get involved in the argument.
"No offence, Jenn, but if the Imperials really had found us, we'd have been as stupid as a herd of senile banthas to stick around." She pointed at the leader of the group, knowing how severe she looked with the braded bun and black clothing. "Yeah, okay - so it was just a bunch of nosy farmers, but it might not have been."
Jenn flashed her a hard stare as Tate nodded agreement. "We went into that damned place to go to ground to stop the Imperials from finding us. What, you don't think they'll have noticed a ship blasting out of there?"
Tate shook his head and received the brunt of Jenn's anger in the gut. Marr spoke up. "There was no way for him to know, Jenn. The front alarm went off, sensors showed a bunch of people in there. He made a decision. It was the wrong one." He shrugged. "It happens, and we couldn't have stayed much longer anyway. The Imperials are getting closer."
She glared, but it lacked some of the menace from a few minutes back. "Fine, just get us on the other side of the planet from the Destroyer before you make orbit."
Saffa felt a frown on her features as she turned back to the controls. "We're jumping? Our market's here."
Jenn let out a sigh. "Yeah, well, like you said, the Imps will be tracking us."
"Got you. Jump out, jump back in with a different transponder signal. Should convince them."
"It should," she agreed before sweeping out the cockpit. Marr gave Saffa a weary look and followed her.
"Jenn!" She continued to storm down the corridors, shoulders set straight with anger. "Jenn!"
"What is it, Marr?" She whirled around on him, hands on slender, black-clad hips, blonde hair falling as angrily around her shoulders as her expression fell on him. "You going to give me a lecture?"
"No."
She seemed taken aback by that and faltered, then regained her steely composure. "What is it then?" Light flashed in her brown eyes.
"Just wondering what you wanted to do about that kid we picked up." He shrugged disarmingly.
"What do you mean? Sell him, like the rest." She seemed annoyed.
"He's pretty stubborn, Jenn."
"Get Tate to break him then. Give him something to do other than calling false alarms." White teeth bared against full red lips.
"Jenn, much as I'd love to let Tate go with his favourite past time, I don't think we've got the time for that. He's more trouble than he's worth. Can't we just throw him out an airlock?"
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Marr didn't understand credits. "No, he's worth something, no matter how little. Get Tate to throw him around a little, threaten him. If that doesn't work, shoot him full of sedatives before we give them over to subdue him."
She started to walk away but Marr locked a hand around her arm and pulled her back. She looked pretty angry at that and he ignored the dangerous flashing in her eyes. "They won't like that, when he snaps out of it."
"Not my problem."
"It'll damage your relationship."
She laughed. It was a cruel laugh and had no humour in it. "After this debacle, there's no way I'm shipping slaves on Tatooine again anyway. Get Tate to break him. He's got a day at least. I'm sure the kid'll listen if you spell out the facts. He can't be that stubborn."
---
Beru was crying. It had finally come down on her and Obi-Wan had never been that great at offering comfort. Owen had stepped in and was offering her a shoulder to sob against. Obi-Wan didn't think Beru had realised up until now just how deeply she felt for the boy. She truly has been a mother to him. Padmé would have smiled to see it.
Her crying seemed to subside a little, and then she began apologising profusely. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
"It's okay, B. You care for Luke. You love him. So do I."
Beru looked up at her husband in surprise. Her tear-streaked gaze fell on her husband's and she smiled. "I've been waiting years to hear you admit that," she murmured against his shirt, resting her head there.
"Now what do we do?" Owen looked up at Obi-Wan. The man was trying not to show weakness despite his fears. Obi-Wan admired the strength that took.
"We need to know where that ship went."
"How?"
Obi-Wan sat on the bed, thinking. There was really only one possibility. "I think we need some Imperial help. They're the only ones who will have tracked their outbound vector."
Beru stiffened. "Not Vader!"
"No!" Obi-Wan said, coming to his feet reflexively. "Never. I meant the garrison here. We can tap into the network there." Beru visibly relaxed, sagging against her husband's arms. "It'll take some time... and we don't have a ship to follow in."
Owen nodded. Outside the window behind him, Mos Espa buzzed even in the middle of the night. "First we find out where we need to go before we buy transport anywhere."
"Right. I'll get on it." Obi-Wan crossed his arms and set his jaw in determination. Or stubbornness. "You two stay here and get some sleep."
Beru shook her head. "No. There's got to be something we can do..."
"There isn't, Beru. And you're going to be no use tomorrow if you're dead on you're feet." She opened her mouth to deny it but after a pause she just nodded and sank her head back down again.
"You need sleep too, old man," Owen said.
"Who are you calling old, Lars?"
"You, now go get some sleep. Luke's room is next door. Kind of small but..."
Obi-Wan pursed his lips and nodded. "See you at sunrise."
---
He wanted sunshine. He wanted sweltering heat and sand and rocks and heat waves rising over the desert. He wanted twin suns in the sky and a long horizon broken only by their 'vaporators.
He wanted his cool room and his aunt's home cooking. He wanted his aunt's kind smile. He even wanted his uncle to shout at him and tell him off for his stupidity.
All he had was sore eyes, a cold deck under his cheek and sharp pains in his wrists.
Luke was just a kid, just a eight-year-old who had a penchant for trouble. And he'd really done it this time.
The ship lurched and, clinically, he knew they had gone into hyperspace. And he couldn't even see what it looked like.
The sigh of the door opening, a bright light in his eyes and a pair of boots in front of him and he realised someone had come into the hold. He squirmed over onto his back and stared up into the eyes of that bald spacer, glowering down on him.
"Up."
If he could have stood up from this position he would have done so ages ago. With the gag, he couldn't tell the man so. He shook his head.
A snarl came to the man's lips – Tate, they had called him – and he grabbed a handful of blonde hair and dragged the boy to his feet. He ripped the duct tape off his mouth, making Luke's lips zing. "When I say get up, you obey, slave."
Luke spat back at him, "I'm a person and my name is Luke!"
The others cringed around him. Tate let him go and he sat heavily back on the deck, legs crossing under him. The burly man took a step backwards. "Oh, really? You think you got a name?"
Luke looked around uncertainly. Big, scared eyes looked back at him. "Yeah."
More cringing. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck and he braced himself as the familiar warning tingle worked its way down his spine.
He wasn't disappointed. Tate yanked him back to his feet and sent him flying into the far wall. Luke yelped in pain as he collapsed to the deck. The man stalked him.
"A name?" He grabbed Luke by the thin vest he was wearing, put a hand around his neck, and pushed him against the cold wall. Blood trickled from his nose and Luke blinked back stars. "The most you'll ever have again is a number, burned onto your arm so you'll never forget it."
He slammed the small boy harder and the blood ran down his hand. Luke yelped again and gritted his teeth. He didn't think the man had broken anything. Yet.
"You are nobody. Merchandise. A few credits to add to my account." He leaned right into Luke's face and the boy's eyes bulged. "You have no name. Understand?"
Luke gritted his teeth.
Tate threw him to the deck. "Understand?"
"I'm a person and my name is-"
A swift kick to the temple and the kid was unconscious, never getting the word out.
---
"I think I was a little rough."
Saffa raised her eyebrows. "I thought that was idea."
Tate shifted uncomfortably and moved to the 'fresher station, washing the crimson blood from his hand. "I mean unconscious-rough."
"Oh."
He dried his hands and turned to her. "You think I like beating the sith out of those brats, don't you?"
She sat back in the lounge seat and brushed a nail file over immaculate black talons. "I don't know. Marr thinks so. Do you?"
He sat down in the opposite chair and put his legs up on a small transparisteel table. He let out a sigh that was half annoyance, half frustration. He brushed a hand over the red tattoo on his bald scalp. Says he shaved it 'cause it makes him look harder. Bet he just found a bald spot one day. "No. Even I'm not that cold, Saff."
"Don't call me that."
"Sorry."
"It's just... gotta be done, you know? For the credits." He was staring at the ceiling.
"That little blonde one's really gotten to you, eh?" She sat up, put the nail file aside and leaned forward. " 'Course I understand. I'm not here for the scenery you know."
"Yeah..."
"Look, Tate. Stash your feelings, okay? If Jenn sees it she'll go crazy, and she's already on the war path for Marr's ugly mug after that mess in Mos Espa."
Tate lowered his gaze to her and folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, true. That kid's going to be trouble though. Stubborn little sithspawn."
She shrugged. "You ain't gotta break the little runt, just get him to stop hitting out every chance he gets. Keep going, you'll get there."
"If you're so great with kids, why don't you have a go?" he dared. her
She laughed. "Me? I can't stand the little mynocks. I'd space 'em without batting an eyelid."
He glanced at her and smirked, seeing straight through that hard mask. "Sure you would, Jenn. Sure you would."
---
"I see they haven't improved the security on these networks since the last time I was on it." Obi-Wan was typing furiously at the console, Beru toting the blaster she had 'borrowed' from an unconscious guard.
"Thank the Force for small favours."
Obi-Wan glanced over at the petite woman, still quite beautiful in her own homely way despite the worry lines. He raised his eyebrows at that remark but she waved him back to the console.
"Just get the information. This place gives me the creeps."
"Imperial architecture does leave a lot to be desired." He concentrated on hacking into the networks. Beru paced the room, peering out into the empty corridor, walking to the window, checking the stun setting on the blaster. Obi-Wan ignored her. More than a day after the ship had left Tatooine with a cargo more precious than its crew could possibly imagine, they had finally got the chance to break in here and pull what they needed from Imperial records.
"Aha, got you!" He grinned, realising the expression was very un-Jedi like and stowing it.
Beru leaned over his shoulder. "What is it?"
"There we go. The transponder on that ship – jump co-ordinates–"
"Where does it lead?"
"Hang on." Beru did, she clutched the edge of the desk. He frowned. "That's odd."
"What's odd?"
Obi-Wan pointed to the screen. "The speed and the vector – it leads to the middle of nowhere."
Beru frowned. "Disguising their destination." Her heart was crashing down through her stomach and heading for the floor. She felt her legs wobble, trying to get her whole body to follow it down.
"Maybe."
"Or?"
"I don't know...a hunch..."
He started typing again and Beru got control of herself again. She hated those weak moments, she knew they were born out of admirable emotions – love, concern, care – but they made her feel so vulnerable and she hated it. There had been times when such a weakness was almost fatal.
"Clever." Obi-Wan's voice brought her back to the present.
"What is?" Her voice barely trembled.
"The ship jumped into nowhere because she was going nowhere. See, another ship just jumped back, different transponder but its identical in class and size."
"They've come back?" Beru stood up and looked down shocked at the Jedi. "Why would they come back?"
The man stood and flicked off the terminal, burning the ships identity into his memory, and their trajectory with it. "I guess their business was always on Tatooine, we just spooked them enough to get them to disappear." He rose and the cloak swamped him again. "Let's get out of here, and keep the blaster. You're probably going to need it."
Chapter Two
Luke shook his head woozily away from the pungent smell under his nose. "Always fighting. What is it with this kid?" The voice sounded distant in his ears as the chemical worked its way through to his system and brought him back to consciousness. Luke opened tired eyes and tried to back hurriedly away from the blazing green eyes in front of him.
"Okay, he's awake. Line him up with the others. If he starts getting difficult, shoot him full of chlorpromazine. That should shut him up."
The voice was cold and hard, and Luke was pulled roughly to his feet. His hands still hung loosely at his sides as he was half-walked, half-dragged to a line of grubby children standing naked under a grill. Luke looked up groggily and wavered on unsteady feet when they stood him in the middle of the line. He realised with a fuzzy embarrassment that he was similarly undressed. Then there were the soothing waves of the sonic shower unit, brushing the grit and dirt from them and massaging tired muscles. Luke felt he could collapse to the deck and sleep under the comforting energy rippling through him.
All too soon it stopped and a pile of tan and black coloured clothes was thrown to each child as Tate walked down the line of subdued children. He lingered in front of Luke and caught boys eye with a warning glance. The clothes rebounded off Luke's chest and he half caught them, thankful for the ability to cover himself up again. A tight black tunic and trousers and a loose over-tunic. Typical Tatooine, if a little darker than usual. He dressed clumsily, still feeling vaguely detached from the whole situation. The other crewmembers moved like shadows in front of him and he tried to focus his thoughts as he pulled tan boots on and bound them with black strips of homespun.
A shouted order and the children began to move sluggishly forwards, Luke following quietly.
He put his tongue up to the fleshy inside of his cheek and felt a cut there and the tang of a small gash where he had bitten through the flesh during Tate's attempts to get him to see reason. The taste helped him to come back to the present and he realised he was giving in.
Are you a Skywalker or not?
His hands balled into fists. He couldn't make a run for it, not yet. Not with all four crewmembers watching the children file out, mentally counting the credits on each.
Bright sunlight and sweltering heat and Luke blinked, recoiled and looked away. The child behind him bumped into him and pushed him forward and Luke staggered down the landing ramp to a sandy surface, his eyes not yet used to the bright sunshine.
They stumbled out and lined up, like droids from jawas. Luke forced his eyes to open and stared at the welcoming committee, a group of surly looking men and aliens, and a large, bulbous hutt on a floating platform.
Luke wasn't as scared as he'd thought he'd be. He was drawing on an inner strength he couldn't describe, and, stupidly or not, he thought that as long as he kept with it and kept his sanity, he could make it through yet.
He touched the tip of his tongue to the gash in his cheek again and his senses stepped up another level, hope swelling in him.
He looked down to the ground out of the glare of the sun.
His hands weren't tied.
The realisation was a bit of a shock. His hands were free. That gave him a much better chance at escape. He smiled.
---
Jenn stepped up to the bulbous mass of fat and stench, resisting the urge to wrinkle her nose in disgust. Saffa was by her side, looking as brutal as ever with her pinched features and black braids. Jenn hefted the blaster carbine at her waist as she stepped forward to the hutt on repulsor platform.
"The Great Garna the Hutt, son of Gardula, welcomes you," a protocol droid spoke from beside his obese master.
Jenn bowed beautifully, but not too low. "We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Garna." She gestured with her blaster to the row of small slave children lined against the transport's dusty sides. "I hope you find the merchandise to your satisfaction."
The hutt rolled his tongue around his mouth and eyed the children, drool pooling on the sandy floor. Jenn didn't have compassion enough to feel sorry for them, although she did feel disgust on their behalf.
The giant slug rumbled in his native language and the droid tipped his head, then translated. "The Great Garna wishes to know why one of the slaves is smiling."
What?
She turned around, Saffa with her, and immediately spotted the striking blond-haired boy from Mos Espa, eyes defiant, smiling.
That damned little sithspawn! He was going to be the end of her!
She nodded to Tate and the man stepped forward and smacked a gloved hand across the child's cheek, dazing him. He sat on the floor shaking stars from his eyes as the burly man whispered harsh words in his ear. A glare in Jenn's direction and the boy stood, returning to his position, face impassive.
"My apologies, Garna. He is a little feisty," she admitted.
She dreaded some retaliation by the hutt but instead he rumbled gruffly. The droid translated. "The Great Garna thinks perhaps he can find some particularly fitting uses for the boy."
Jenn felt a shiver crawl up her spine and Saffa's lip twitched. "I'm sure. Shall we discuss the price?"
The hutt's eyes narrowed. He hated paying. He would have gone to any length to get out of it, but Jenn wasn't stupid, the kids were well guarded by the two remaining crew members - ready to fry them if Garna made a wrong move.
"Of course," he purred, the droid still translating.
A wind picked up her blonde hair as she nodded. "All right. These kids have cost me a lot of trouble, Garna. Fifty thousand."
The hutt rumbled with laughter and his small hands rocked with his huge stomach. "The Great Garna says you mock him with such a price for so small an offering. Twenty-five."
Saffa laughed in disgust. "Forty."
"Thirty-five and no more. Especially if he is taking the surly blond runt."
Jenn grimaced. "Thirty-eight and I'll take the boy with me."
The hutt cocked his head on one side. "The Great Garna suggests that the youth is growing on him. He will give you thirty-six, including the boy."
Jenn nodded. "Very well, we accept. Cash, Garna." She brandished the blaster again. The hutt scowled at her.
"It will be delivered to your ship before the suns set. The Great Garna offers his hospitality until then."
And give his men chance to crawl all over my ship? I don't think so.
"Thank you, Garna, but we will wait here."
The deal concluded, she returned to the ships side, flicking a switch on the blasters side, dialling down the power to a low stun setting. Tate approached her but she waved him away.
She headed instead for the small blond-haired annoyance as Garna's troop departed. He glared openly at her.
She raised the blaster. "You little sithspawn," she spat, and fired.