Fifteen years before A New Hope

Simeon stood outside the homestead on a sand dune. The night chill was causing him to shiver uncontrollably. He would have loved to go somewhere warmer than a desert at night, but he had a job to do.

When the last light flickered off in the main building of the homestead, Simeon made his move. He stealthily crept toward the edge above the homestead. Simeon took a strong, but slender, fiber cord from his belt. He knotted it firmly around a rock and himself. He scuttled down the incline like a giant spider. When he touched the ground, he unfastened the rope from himself. Simeon crossed the open courtyard and silently opened a door. He was now inside the homestead.

Simeon slunk along the wall of the corridor. He peeked inside the first archway. He could see a middle-aged woman with graying brown hair asleep on a chair. The room appeared to be an office. Simeon passed on to the next doorway. Raspy breaths echoed out of the enclosed area. Simeon crept through the doorway. He could see a small figure upon the bed. He had found his destination.

Simeon molded his face to look like the woman he had seen sleeping. He walked around the bed to a tiny table beside it. Simeon glanced down at the small body on the bed.

The little boy lying there could not have been older than three. His sandy hair was plastered to his sweat-drenched face. The boy squirmed uncomfortably. His eyelids snapped open revealing blue eyes brightened with fever. He looked up at Simeon's disguised face and weakly attempted a smile.

"What ya doin' Auntie?" the boy asked.

"It's time for another shot of medicine, dear," Simeon replied in a high-pitched voice.

The young boy made a horrible face. Simeon suppressed a laugh as the boy shakily held out his arm. Simeon clasped it reassuringly with his left hand. He picked up an empty syringe from the bedside table. He pretended to fill it with medicine while removing a small device from his pouch. He released his grip on the child.

Simeon moved so his left hand was supporting the boy's head and used his right hand to place the needle on the boy's left arm. Simeon slowly counted to three and administered the shot. At the same time, he placed the tiny device with its little crawler legs and black antennae on the back of the boy's head. Simeon breathed a sigh of relief when the black changed into a sandy color, blending with the boy's hair.

"Ouch," the child said accusingly.

"I know it hurts, dearie," Simeon replied, "I'll come back to check on you later."

The boy closed his eyes. Simeon placed the syringe on the table by a bottle of liquid medicine. He tiptoed out of the room. When he left, he heard someone moving about in the room next door. He ducked into a room across the hall. Simeon suppressed a shudder when the little boy's plaintive voice reached him.

"But Auntie Beru, you just gave me my medicine!"

"Hush, Luke," was the reply, "You must have been dreaming."

Simeon slunk out of the homestead. He had completed his mission. He hoped it would pacify his master for a little while. He wished he knew what was so important about this child.