Chapter 2 - Lost

The detention cell was worse than any nightmare Brian could recall. His new surroundings consisted of a small, cold, gray room with a little metal bench protruded from the wall, presumably for him to sleep on; however, the light overhead was harsh and bright, making it impossible for him to rest. Brian considered that, at least, to be a good thing. The very thought of sleeping scared him worst of all. If he slept, who knows where he could wake up next? He supposed anywhere would be better than here, but then again, he felt it was better to be careful what you wish for.

The most disturbing aspect of this whole nightmare was the fact that he was in a different body, one that seemed to have been passed by death long ago. The body looked old, much too old to be as limber and 'healthy' as it felt inside. The skin was yellowish-gray and haggard, and his face felt very disfigured. His forehead seemed to protrude unnaturally, with a dent that ran vertically up the center. The eyes were sunken and his teeth were gnarly. He shuddered at the thought of looking in the mirror.

He sometimes wondered if he was completely human. It was not just his appearance that brought that question to mind. He could not quite explain it, but he seemed to be aware of everything. He could feel the room around him and could sense the people outside it. When he concentrated, he could almost feel their feelings, which seemed to consist of strong confusion, as if they wondered why the man in black had locked him up. He could also feel when the man in black was near. He had a cold, dark presence that felt conflicted. On one hand, the man seemed almost excited in the sudden 'disappearance' of the person who's body Brian now possessed. On the other, he seemed scared to death. Brian was not sure if the dark man wanted to find his host or kill him. Either way, the only reason Brian could see that he was still alive was because he now inhabited this other man's body.

This had to be a dream. Of course it was. Cromwell had screwed up somehow and now he was stuck in his own head. There was going to be one hell of a lawsuit when he woke up; that is, unless Cromwell makes him forget the whole thing.

But was this a dream? It felt so real. Or did it? These new psychic powers could not be real; people could not have these feelings, these strong connections with their surroundings. This clairvoyance was just an interesting side effect of this whole ordeal.

Real or not, Brian did not know; for the moment, all that was forgotten. He could feel the man in black approaching.

Darth Vader was unsure how to proceed. How could he torture the man he called master? Even if someone else was running the show, the stage still belonged to Sidious. Conflict tore at him as he weighed the situation in his mind. This could be his chance to eliminate Palpatine and take control of the Galaxy as its new Emperor. This could also be a cleverly designed test; deceit was part of a Sith's nature after all. Sidious could be waiting to see if Vader was going to exploit his new weakness. Despite the many victories he had won over the years against fugitive Jedi, he was not confident that he could take down Sidious in combat. The injuries he had sustained at the hand of Kenobi had left him nearly half as powerful as he should have been, and a Sith Lord was much harder to kill than a Jedi.

There was also a problem of a different sort; he could sense that regardless of who was occupying Sidious, they were still strong in the Force. The only advantage that Vader could see was that this 'Brian' seemed to have no idea that the Force even existed.

He walked down the cold hallway of the detention area. Two clones followed close behind him escorting an interrogation droid. As he approached the cell he stopped. 'Brian' had suddenly become frightened and agitated. He could feel the fear rising with every step he took, but how? How did he know that Vader was coming unless...

'He senses me through the Force. I must get the information out of him before he grows too powerful.'

He continued to the cell and opened the door. 'Brian' was sitting on the bench frozen in place, his eyes darting from Vader to the droid behind him.

"Wait out here," he said to the clone escorts.

"Yes sir," one of them said as they took position outside the cell.

Vader walked in and the door closed behind him.

The paramedics wheeled Dr. Cromwell out of the office on a stretcher. They had managed to revive him but he was delirious.

"He never touched me! He just looked at me!" He repeated these words over and over to no one in particular. Whenever someone questioned him on whom he was speaking, the doctor only repeated the statement.

Sarah had been checked out and released to the police for questioning. She told them what little she knew. A patient, Brian Hughes, had an appointment with Dr. Cromwell at 8:30. About fifteen minutes into the session, she heard what sounded like a loud scuffle. She opened the door and found the doctor lying unconscious with Mr. Hughes standing on the opposite side of the room. The next thing she knew, she was waking up in the reception area with a knot on her head.

An A.P.B had been sent out for an escaped mental patient, possibly suffering from multiple personality disorder, that was violent and considered extremely dangerous. Ten minutes later the police received a report that a man fitting Brian Hughes description had been seen talking to a Donald Archer, a man who had been found dead about six blocks from Cromwell's office; the cause of death unknown. All police are advised to use extreme caution.

Obi-Wan cocked a smile. "This seems appropriate," he observed as he looked at the broken speeder. His journey had barely begun and he was already in a spot of trouble.

The transport he had hired to take him from Anchorhead to Mos Eisely had come to a standstill mid journey.

"I don't suppose you offer refunds?" He asked the speeder's owner, Jerne Warjac, with a little touch of sarcasm.

"Look Ben, I can't tell you how sorry I am. If there is anything I can do to make this up to you, just let me know," he offered.

"Well, for starters, you could get me out of here."

"That's the problem, I don't know exactly where here is," Jerne said with a sheepish grin. "My navigation device has also quit working."

"Ah. I had a feeling you were going to say that," Obi-Wan nodded with a smile.

"And it's only about to get worse," Jerne said, pointing to the distant cliffs.

As Obi-Wan turned his head to see where he was pointing, a shot rang out that ricocheted off the speeder.

"Stay down!" He said, pushing Jerne down into the seat. Using the Force he jumped towards the source of the shooting, landing about fifteen meters away from the speeder. Another shot rang out that he easily deflected with his lightsaber.

"Blast! I hate sandpeople," he muttered, wondering if Qui-Gon was frowning at his lack of compassion for the indigenous lifeforms. He heard the distinct war cry of a Tusken warrior. In the distance he saw several banthas charging towards him in a single file. "I can see you! What's the point of hiding your numbers?"

"They're not hiding from us. They're hiding from the people who will eventually find us."

Obi-Wan turned to see Jerne standing next to him with a blaster in each hand.

"I thought you could use some help," he said with a grin. "After all, it's my fault you're in this situation."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. It could happen to anyone. After five years, I still barely know the desert in my own backyard."

"Yeah, but I was born here!" he said.

"Yes well, I don't mean to be rude, but we really need to postpone this conversation. They're here," he said, giving Jerne a weary smile.

The lead bantha ran past him as a Tusken jumped down for the attack. Obi-Wan stepped aside and slashed at the falling raider. It landed in two pieces, its top severed from the bottom. He barely had time too look up when a second Raider landed beside him, its gaffi stick in motion. As he turned to defend himself the Tusken's chest burst into flames and it fell dead.

"Thanks!" He said to Jerne who was busy picking another Raider off its Bantha.

"It's the least I could do!" he said with a smile.

As the Bantha of the fallen Raider ran by, Obi-Wan jumped up and landed on its saddle. Unexpectedly, it bucked and kicked with surprising force, throwing him to the ground. He had to roll out of its way to prevent it from trampling him.

"Big mistake!" He said as he got up.

"Banthas have a special connection with their Tusken riders. They don't like others riding them," Jerne said.

"Now you tell me."

Jerne just shrugged.

Kenobi ran towards a fourth Bantha and Force Pushed the Rider as it took aim at Jerne with its rifle. It landed on the ground hard, firing its rifle prematurely. The projectile hit the Tusken on the cliff, causing it to fall over the edge.

"Well if I hadn't seen it, I don't know that I'd have believed it!" Obi-Wan gasped as he ran to the fallen Tusken. It jumped to its feet and swung at his head. His lightsaber met it halfway, cutting the rifle in half and igniting the gunpowder encased cartridges it housed. The gun exploded in the Tusken's face, catching it on fire. It ran in a circle beating at its burning head as a nauseating smell began to fill the air. Unsure of whether to help him or kill him Obi-Wan watched with mild horror. Jerne made the decision for him. A blaster to the chest sent it flying into the sand where its face continued to burn.

"We better get going. There will be more of them soon," Jerne said.

"Well how do you propose we do that?" Obi-Wan asked with a quizzical look.

"Oh, yeah. I have a surprise for you," Jerne said with a sly smile.

"A surprise for me? You shouldn't have," Kenobi said sarcastically. "Well let's see it."

Jerne jumped into the speeder and started it with his first attempt.

"Or maybe you should have! How did you do that?" he asked with amused wonderment.

"The projectile from the Tusken's rifle must have knocked something into place. While you went off to defend the fort, I tried starting it out of desperation and it worked. If I wasn't so honest I might have left you here."

"Did I ask for a refund? I think I should give you a tip!" Obi-Wan said as he jumped into the speeder.

"Well don't go tipping me yet. We're still lost," Warjac said.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and let the Force be his guide. After a moment, he opened them and pointed to the south.

"Go that way."

"Are you sure?"

Kenobi nodded. "Yes, that is the way, I'm sure of it."

"I thought you Jedi were extinct," Jerne said.

"We are as far as anyone else is concerned. My name isn't Ben, it's Obi-Wan." He offered Jerne his hand.

"It's an honor," he said, shaking Kenobi's hand. "I never thought I'd fight side by side with a Jedi. Don't worry, you secret's safe with me."

I need to see your President. You will take me to Washington D.C."

The man in the taxi looked at Darth Sidious with mild amusement.

"You're not from around here are you?" The driver asked.

"No questions," Sidious barked.

"Okay, but I just thought I'd tell you that in America, passengers usually sit in the back of taxicabs."

Sidious glared at him and the driver shrugged.

"But it's your dollar so you can sit anywhere you wish. I can't drive you all the way to D.C. but you'd probably be better off flying there anyways. D.C.'s a good ten-hour drive from here."

"Where can I find a flying transport?" he asked.

"That would be JFK. We're in the thick of morning traffic so it could take a while," he said.

"Then I suggest you get going," Sidious said annoyed. If he had not needed this man, he might have killed him then and there.

"Yes sir. Buckle up, it's the law." He gave Sidious a smile that was not returned and shrugged. He was used to driving pissed off people. That was his job.

Mos Eisely was bustling with life. The speeder had to swerve as it narrowly missed a gang of swoops heading in the opposite direction. Merchants and businesses of every kind littered the streets. The closer they got to the spaceport, the more wretched things began to appear.

"I know that you're a Jedi, but you should still be careful," Jerne warned as he pulled over.

"Don't worry. I'm quite aware of the scum and villainy that can be found here," Obi-Wan said, shaking Jerne's hand before getting out. During the first few months of his exile, Obi-Wan had visited the spaceport's local cantina in search for information on the Empire's activities. It was there that he was introduced to the seedier inhabitants of the outer rim world. While the farmers were good folk that worked hard and looked out for each other, the very opposite roamed these streets.

"You're sure you can find your way home?" Obi-Wan asked with a smile.

"Yeah, I know a man that can fix my nav unit; he owes me a favor."

"Good," Obi-Wan nodded. "The desert is no place to get lost in alone. Thank you for everything Jerne. You are a good man."

"As are you Ben, may the Force be with you," he said with sincerity.

"Thank you, and may the Force be with you my friend," he replied with a slight bow.

He watched Jerne drive off into the distance before going about his business. The first thing that needed to be done was to upgrade his wardrobe; his old farming clothes were hardly suitable for space travel. He found a clothing shop and stepped inside. Upon entry a Twi'lek female approached him.

"If you're lost farmer, you've come into the wrong shop; I don't give out directions. And If you've come here to purchase clothes, you're wasting your time. My items are extremely expensive."

Obi-Wan pulled out his purse and began counting his credits. "Well then, I'm sorry I've wasted your time. Perhaps you could recommend another shop I might try?"

Her eyes lit up and her posture changed. "Republic credits? Where did a farmer get those?" She asked curiously.

"Oh, I've been around galaxy a time or two; but as you said, my money isn't good enough for you so I'll be going." He turned to leave.

"I'm sure something can be worked out. You seem like a decent enough man, too decent for Mos Eisely. I've decided to cut you a deal," she said in her best salesmen tone.

"A deal?" He turned around and flashed her his best smile. "Let's see what you have my dear."

Twenty minutes later he emerged from the shop wearing slacks and a dark shirt with a vest. Three more pairs of slacks and shirts, similar in style, were in his bag.

"I look like a pirate," he muttered under his breath. He hoped he did not look as uncomfortable as he felt. The vest was made for concealing weapons and had a pouch that held his lightsaber nicely. It would be a little harder to get at than normal, but he was quite confident that in an emergency he would have no problems retrieving it. Just to be sure, he had practiced withdrawing it in the dressing room.

Feeling ready for the next step in his journey, Obi-Wan made his way down the busy streets to the local bar. It had been nearly five years since he had last stepped through its doors, but the Mos Eisley Cantina had not changed a bit. The same bartender was serving drinks and even the same band was playing in the corner. He scanned the patrons for someone that he felt he could trust. In the corner he spotted a loan man in an Imperial officer's uniform. Most of the patrons, understandably, were keeping their distance from him. Obi-Wan decided he would take a chance; hopefully the man would not recognize him as a wanted Jedi. After buying two of 'whatever the officer is drinking' from the bar, he approached the table and made a gesture at the seat across from the officer.

"Is this seat taken Lieutenant?" He asked, sliding the extra drink to the officer.

With a look of surprise the officer said, "No, the seat's yours. I must say that I'm surprised that someone wants to join me. Most of the people in here treat me like I have the plague."

"Well most of the patrons here are a little less... civilized that present company," he said, offering a toast. He could see that the man was well on his way to being intoxicated.

'This could work out to my advantage,' he thought with a smile.

"Say, I'll drink to that!" The officer clinked his glass on Obi-Wan's with a little too much enthusiasm, sloshing half his drink on the table. "What's your name friend?"

"My name is Bentoni. Only my friends call me Ben. I assume you're my friend," he said with a smile.

"That you are Ben! My name is Kan Tamer. So what brings a guy like you into a dive like this?"

Obi-Wan could feel the tension growing in the other patrons as they watched this little friendship blossom.

'I better make this quick. I can't afford to attract too much attention.'

"Well Kan, like most of the inhabitants on this planet, I too have something in my past from which I am hiding."

"Troubles with the law eh?" Kan winked.

"Actually, it's more of a case where the law has trouble with me," he said with a grin. "What about you? What brings and Imperial officer here?"

"Oh, I'm here on leave. I've been sent to Tatooine on behalf of the Empire to meet with the Hutts in an effort to draft this dust bowl into the Empire. The Hutts are pretty stubborn about the whole thing though. It's no secret the types of businesses they run. They know they'll lose a lot of money if they join."

"Well it certainly wouldn't hurt this planet if they did," Obi-Wan said.

"That's what we've been trying to tell them! The Empire wants to help, not hurt them. This place isn't worth all the trouble of an invasion though. More than likely, the Empire will just move on, forgetting about this 'desert paradise'."

"Alas, it's probably all for the best," Obi-Wan said, stirring his drink. "Not to change the subject Kan, but I've heard the strangest rumors in the past few days."

"What kinds of rumors?" Kan asked.

"Well, I'm sure it's probably nothing, but I've heard that something's happened involving the Emperor and Darth Vader." He watched Kan's reactions carefully. He immediately saw his eyes dilate.

"We're not supposed to talk about that. Who told you that?" Kan asked in a hushed voice, leaning forward.

"Oh, everyone has been talking about it, but no one seems sure of what exactly happened," he probed. "You can trust me." He subtly waved his hand as he spoke.

"Well, I guess I can trust you. You see, we're not really sure ourselves. It seems that the Emperor has had some sort of breakdown."

"Breakdown? That's terrible!" He hoped he was not over doing it with his acting. "I can see why you're trying to keep this a secret."

"Oh, no doubt. If he has cracked, well, it's probably better that the Senate doesn't find out. They gave him power for life you know, but if they should feel that he's unfit to run things, the corrupt bastards might move to take control again. And then there's Darth Vader. No one wants to see him Emperor, he's just so… ruthless."

"So I've heard," Obi-Wan frowned. "Can you tell me what the nature of this breakdown is?"

"Oh, that we don't know. Vader's got him locked up on that Star Destroyer of his. No one knows what's going on beyond that."

Kenobi nodded thoughtfully.

"Where is Vader's Star Destroyer?" He asked casually.

"Oh, that's classified my friend," Kan said matter-of-factually.

"You can trust me. No one will know that you told me," Obi-Wan said with another wave of his hand.

"You know? You're right. I can trust you! They're at Mon Calamari." Kan seemed most pleased with himself.

Smiling, Obi-Wan waved his hand again. "Well Kan, it's been a pleasure, but you're running late for an appointment."

"Sure. I'll see you around buddy!" Kan said enthusiastically as he got up.

He nodded and shook Kan's hand but in his mind he thought, 'Not if I can help it.'

JFK was bustling with traffic as taxis and shuttle buses fought for space. As Sidious' taxi pulled over, he began to get out. The driver grabbed him by the arm, keeping him in the cab.

"Hey? Aren't you forgetting something?" He asked.

"You do not need monetary compensation," he said with a wave of his hand.

"Look man, if you're trying to get out of paying me, I'm going to have to call the cops. I can't afford to give free rides."

Sidious smiled and the taxi lurched forward, slamming into the back of another car. "What the hell?" The drive asked in surprise.

In the commotion, Sidious slipped into the airport unnoticed. The driver never reported his passenger's failure to pay to the authorities; he had bigger problems to worry about.

Vader was growing frustrated. Both the truth serums and his attempts at mind probing had failed to produce any satisfactory answers. As he had long suspected, 'Brian' had no more an idea of what was going on than he did. In fact, 'Brian' seemed convinced that everything he was experiencing was a dream.

'What are you up to Master?' He pondered. It was obvious to the Sith that whatever was happening was a direct result of something Sidious had set into motion. Only the Dark Side was strong enough to cause two beings to switch bodies, and that was something 'Brian' was incapable of doing.

'At least intentionally,' Vader admitted.

Regardless of the cause, time was running out. 'Brian' was growing stronger in the Force, and being untrained, that could be very dangerous. Should his fears grow too strong, he could unwittingly cause catastrophic amounts of damage to anyone or anything in the immediate vicinity, including the ship. The chances were minute, but Vader had long ago learned to leave nothing to chance. If he did not make progress soon, he would have no other choice but to kill his Master.

Darth Sidious paced the busy ticket counters. With his keen observation skills, he began reading the sales people behind the counters. His lips graced a slight smile as he found the right person. He got in line and waited with practiced patience.

"Hello sir, how may I help you?" The salesman asked with a nauseating grin.

"I need to go to Washington D.C. as soon as possible," Sidious replied.

"Well let's see. I'm afraid all of our flights today are booked. I can get you onto a flight tomorrow if you like?" He asked.

"You'll get me onto the next flight. You will put me in the nicest accommodations possible," Sidious commanded.

"I'll just bump somebody for you. Let's see, here's someone that can wait until tomorrow. You can have their seat! It will be in first class. Will you be checking in any luggage?"

"No," the Sith curtly replied.

"Okay, excellent. And how will you be paying for that?" His smile growing wider.

"I'm not. You are," Sidious said.

"Well, it looks like I'll be paying for your ticket. I just need to see your I.D." he said.

"I.D.?" Sidious queried.

"Your Identification, it's required for your purchase and to board the aircraft." The man continued to smile blankly.

"That will not be necessary." Sidious replied.

The man looked confused, his smile momentarily drooping. "I'm not sure how to give you a boarding pass without any I.D."

"May I suggest, since you're purchasing the ticket, that you use your own name?" He said with a hint of irritation.

"Okay, I'll just put the ticket in my name. Here's your boarding pass and have a nice flight!" He beamed.

Sidious took his ticket and headed for the terminal.

An hour later he was sitting on board the 767 watching the world grow smaller.

Brian was tired. His mind had been probed and his body drugged. The man in black, who he now knew as Darth Vader, had exhausted every effort at his disposal during his interrogation. The frail body he now possessed needed sleep and he fought it with every ounce of strength he had. This was a fight that he could feel himself losing. Even with his mysterious new power, he was unable to prompt his body into alertness. His mind began to dim and soon he slumped onto the bench. His eyes grew heavy and the cell in which he was imprisoned faded from existence.

The room instantly changed to what he recognized as the interior of a passenger aircraft. He looked to his right and could see a flight attendant serving drinks to a man sitting next to him.

"Hello Brian," a voice in the dark recess of his mind greeted. "I see even with our bodies switched you are able to come visit me whenever you fall asleep."

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"Are you having as much fun in my body as I am in yours?" The voice asked in a mocking tone.

"What did you do to me?" Brian demanded.

The voice cackled an evil laugh that sent chills through his body even as he slept. "What did I do? I'm afraid that you have done this yourself. I have to admit that I am enjoying this world from which you came."

"I didn't do this! That's impossible! You can have this body back!"

"All in due time my boy. I am not one to let opportunity pass me by. This world could be a worthy addition to my Empire. It will require some modifications to how things are governed of course. I am now on the way to see your leader, the President of the United States I believe he is called."

"The President? He doesn't rule the Earth. There are some who would argue differently, but in truth, many nations rule our world."

"I see. That changes things, but is of little consequence. Soon this 'Earth' will be on its knees, as with every system in its galaxy."

"Not if I have anything to say about it! I don't know how, but I will stop you!"

The voice once again broke into a fit of laughter. "I can sense the fear in you, it fuels your rage. You will be a worthy ally."

"I'll never align with you! I don't know what this power is but I'll use it to stop you!" Brian vowed.

"This power is called the Force, it is what links us, and it is the reason we have switched places. It is also a power of which I have complete control. I will make you my apprentice, and in time, you will learn to use it as I have. And because of our bond, as you grow in strength, so will I."

"Shut up! I won't listen to anything else you have to say!" Brian shouted. He could feel the power he possessed flair in strength, growing along with his anger. It weighed him down and gnawed at his gut. Desperate to make it stop, he forced himself to calm and slowly the weight lifted.

"Good," the voice encouraged. "You are learning to control it, that it is linked to your emotions. Now, release your anger, it is the only way you will ever be strong enough to defeat me."

"I don't want to release it, I want it gone," he said with forced calm. "I can see now that it's a curse, and I will not let it drag me to hell like it has you."

"Fight it all you want, soon you will be my apprentice," the voice said with a confidence that Brian found unnerving.

With an effort, he struggled to wake himself. As he opened his eyes he could hear the voice.

'Soon', it said.

Darth Vader sensed his Master through the Force. Like a volcanic eruption, his presence overwhelmed the ship in a flood of darkness. He could also sense 'Brian', as his aura intertwined with his master's. Fear, anger and conflict colored their unique encounter. The more Brian struggled, the stronger his master became. The conflict rose to climax and, an instant later, Sidious vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

He considered interrogating 'Brian' again, demanding to know what had just transpired, but his instincts told him to be patient. The Force whispered that soon, everything would be revealed. Until that time, he was to protect his master's body at all cost.

Obi-Wan sipped his drink and casually scanned the Cantina. In a corner booth, a woman sitting alone was watching him. Younger than she appeared, her rough appearance gave a clue to the hard life she had lived. Her hair, the color of flames, was cut short and her eyes were cool blue and alert. She wore a style jumpsuit that was common for smugglers and it seemed to downplay her appearance as a woman. A large blaster, as much for show as it was defense, was strapped to her hip; she wanted to let others know that she could take care of herself.

Returning her gaze, he smiled and lifted his drink in a salute. She made an expression that read, 'What the hell are you looking at?'

"She'll do," he said to himself as he sipped his drink.

Getting up, he approached her booth. She eyeballed him with the weary expression of one who did not want to be bothered. He gestured to the seat across from her. She shrugged with an 'I don't care what you do' look. He sat down and began stirring his drink.

"Well?" she asked after a moment.

"I couldn't help but notice you've been watching me," he smiled.

"I just wondered what your game is. I saw you speaking with that drunken Imperial. I can tell you're not a smuggler or gangster, but you were obviously playing him. I'm just trying to figure out what it is you're after."

"Let's just say, I'm someone who has a vested interest in the Empire's activities, which is why I'm approaching you now," he smiled. "I need a ride to Mon Calamari. I'll make it worth your wild."

"Oh, it will cost you alright. The Empire just pulverized three of its major cities. The Mon Calamari and Quarren have been putting up one hell of a fight though. It seems they have a problem with the Empire's attempt to take their ship building facilities. Anyone going near there will find themselves in the middle of one vicious battle."

"And you'd still be willing to take me there?" He asked.

"If you pay me enough, I'll take you anywhere you want," she shrugged.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I need to go there?"

"Hey, if you have a death wish that's your business. I'm just in it for the money. The less I know about your 'vested interests' the better," she replied.

"Fare enough. How much?" He readied himself for the high price she no doubt would ask. It had been some time since he needed his negotiation skills.

"Normally, I'd insist on 10,000, but this is a special case. 20,000," she said coldly.

"I see. What if I agreed to pay you 15,000?"

"No way. There's no negotiating this price. If you don't want to pay 20,000 then I suggest you find yourself another ship; but I can almost guarantee you that you'll get the same reply from anyone here. Just keep this in mind, before you begin bargain shopping around for a cheaper flight; in a tight spot, which you're obviously looking to get into, I can fly circles around any one of these clowns."

"I always have appreciated the more gifted pilots over substandard ones," he smiled. "If you'd be willing to be flexible with your price, I'd be willing to give you something else of greater value in return."

"What's that?" she asked, eyebrow cocked.

"Me," he said with a smile.

"You?" She scoffed. "What do you mean you?"

"Well, the Empire offers rewards for certain fugitives; I'm a wanted man. If you turn me in, than I can assure you they'll reward you handsomely."

"You want me to turn you over to the Empire?" She asked.

Obi-Wan nodded.

"Just who are you anyways?"

"I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, General of the Clone Wars and Jedi Knight, but you may call me Ben."