Jabba sat patiently on his throne, smoke from his hookah rising silently as he puffed away. Bib Fortuna examined the box which had been retrieved from my hut, trying to determine how it opened.

"How did you find that?" I asked, affronted.

Rancor-hide gave me a grin, showing his stained yellow teeth. "We followed your eopie - those creatures always go home when untethered."

"You didn't hurt her?" My words were steel - imprison me, ransack my home, steal my belongings, I can deal with that. But Rooh is innocent, and my only friend.

Rancor-hide hissed through his teeth. "Nah, she's fine - but it's you that's got to worry, Kenobi. About yourself and that boy."

"I told you," I said firmly as I turned back to Jabba, imbuing my words with sincerity. "Luke is an ordinary child, no threat to you."

"You disappoint me, Kenobi," Jabba said via his translator droid. "Of all the Jedi you were the most revered for your honesty. How the mighty and righteous have fallen."

"The box is locked, Master," Bib Fortuna declared, his spindly white fingers running over the seam. "And there is a pressure bomb to deter tampering."

I smiled, and gave Jabba a shrug. My flippancy earned me a renewed scowl from Owen, his arms still tightly around Beru and Luke.

"Give us the access code," Jabba demanded, and did not need to elaborate on the threat.

"THX1138," I said with resignation, knowing that resistance was useless if I had any hope of keeping the Lars family alive.

Fortuna punched in the code, leaning back just in case it exploded in his face. But the box simply popped open, and Fortuna sighed with relief as he craned open the lid to rifle through its contents. He retrieved a leather-bound journal, flipping through the pages and pausing to skim a few entries. Jabba's droid waddled forward to retrieve it, taking it back up to Jabba so he could read it aloud to the Hutt. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Owen lean forward in curiosity, trying to overhear the droid's words, which amused me despite the situation.

"Master," Fortuna called out, a piece of flimsi in his hand. "This is a test for Jedi aptitude."

Jabba's grotesque lips pulled back into a wide smile. "You tested the boys blood for...what are they called?"

"Midichlorians."

"Yes," Jabba nodded. "That's right. And how many midichlorians does a Jedi have?"

"It varies," I stalled, throwing a quelling look to Beru, who had started to cry silently. "Most humans have around 2000 midichlorians per cell, but the Jedi accepted no one with less than 5000."

"And the boy's father?"

That was a question I had hoped Jabba would not ask. "Anakin had just over 20,000 per cell."

Jabba began to laugh so hard he made himself cough. "I see why you called him the Chosen One," he said after he calmed himself, and his large eyes shifted to Luke. "And since he is dead, is this boy the next great hope?"

Fortuna cleared his throat, his eyes fixated on the flimsi in his hand. "It would appear not, Master." He rose and approached Jabba's throne, showing him the test results. "3000 midichlorians per cell."

Confusion passed over Jabba's face, and he took the flimsi from Fortuna to study it himself. Rancor-hide and the Gamorrean looked uncertain and began to whisper quietly between them. Beru clutched Luke tighter to her and gave me a look of such betrayal that I had to turn away, my cheeks turning red.

"Kenobi has lied to you," Jabba addressed Owen and Beru, throwing the flimsi down onto the floor. "Listen to how he speaks of the boy," he gestured to his droid who still held my journal. "Of his burden to watch over a child who can be of no use - who will never be a Jedi, let alone live up to his father's legacy."

The droid began to read from my journal, and indeed it sounded damning - entry after entry of my disappointment that Luke was not the child I had hoped he would be, that he demonstrated no talent at all in the Force. Of how much I resented the promise I had made to Anakin before he died, defending the Jedi Temple on Coruscant - how much I hated Tatooine with its heat and desert and uncivilised, unwashed masses. It was a work of art, if I do say so myself.

"You see?" I said, cutting off the droid when I felt all had heard enough. "The boy cannot be a Jedi, but I am bound by duty and promise to watch over him, and I will do so."

Jabba was clearly disappointed - having a pet Jedi would have pleased him immensely. "The Empire will still pay well for you, Kenobi."

"I would remind you that I am still a Jedi, and a Master at that." My voice became hard, and I rested my hand gently over the lightsaber hilt hanging from my belt. "I could cut you into tiny pieces and feed you to the rancor if I so chose, before your goons could even draw their blasters."

Rancor-hide and the Gamorrean indeed reached for their blasters, but stopped when Jabba began to laugh again. An easily amused fellow, I thought to myself, and joined him in a chuckle, even though Beru was looking at me as if I was mad.

"I like you, Kenobi," Jabba said as he began to puff on his hookah again. "You amuse me. But this does not change what is owed by the moisture farmers."

I nodded, anticipating that additional hurdle. "Let me take on their debt," I suggested. "Keep my identity a secret, even from your own people, and in return I will...work for you. I'm sure I can save you from doling out exorbitant bounties, and that will more than pay for your silence, and cover the tithe for the Lars farm." I looked him directly in the large bulbous eyes. "You will have a Jedi in your employ after all."

"No, Ben," Beru called out in distress. "You cannot do this."

I ignored her and kept eye contact with Jabba so that he would know how serious I was. This was the moment, the point in every negotiation when all could be won or lost, and I could not be distracted from my task.

"The moisture farmers can leave," Jabba decreed. "You have no further business here."

Beru shook her head, her jaw visibly clenching as she squared her stance. I must say I was touched by her loyalty and concern for me, and I wonder if Rooh is not my only friend on Tatooine after all. Still, her attitude was unhelpful and luckily Owen was practical enough to see that they could not assist me - it was I who must fight for them. He whispered quietly to Beru and she acquiesced, hitching Luke up further on her hip - the boy had quite surprisingly fallen asleep, and I considered that a blessing. They left without further incident, although Owen shot me a look that clearly meant I would have to explain myself later.

Jabba stared at me for some time, and I felt the sweat prickle at the back of my neck. I felt my ruse with the box had succeeded in convincing him that Luke was worthless and not to be bothered with, but whether he felt I would be of more benefit serving him than the reward he would receive from the Empire remained to be seen. I tried not to think of how such service may compromise my integrity and principles, reminding myself that Luke's safety was paramount.

"I accept your offer, Kenobi," Jabba said eventually, and looked very pleased indeed.

I sighed with relief, and bowed my head in deference. "Thank you, mighty Jabba. I hope this will prove advantageous to us both."

"The moisture farmers will be left to your protection," Jabba added. "Provided I find your service adequate. If not, nothing will save you - or them - from the Empire."

"You will be more than satisfied with me," I told him. "But I will hold you to your word, Jabba," I added, my voice becoming hard again so that he could have no doubt of me. "I may have made my reputation on resolving conflicts without using my weapon, but do not think for a moment this means I am unwilling to unleash it. If the Lars family are so much as harassed in the street, I will bring a galaxy of suffering upon you. I will tear down this palace stone by stone and scorch the sand where it once stood. I will destroy you and your hordes of mercenaries, and think it a great service to this planet. Do not test me."

I was cold in this moment, careful not to feel any anger or hate at the creature before me - and yet I meant every word. What I did next was not the act of a Jedi, but perhaps I am a Jedi no longer. Perhaps everything I had once revered and treasured had been slowly chipped away by the war until all that is left is what I am now - a man willing to do anything to protect a single child.

Before Rancor-hide and the Gamorrean even noticed my movement, I had drawn my lightsaber and ignited the blue blade, sweeping it through the flesh and bone and cleaving them each in two. Bib Fortuna screamed and backed away, but that was insufficient to protect him. I reached out into the Twi'lek's weak and open mind, rifling through his memories as easily as he had pawed through my fake journal. I plucked at the memory of the past few hours, ripping it from his mind as he screamed and fell unconscious to the floor. I let the memory go, disappearing into the ether where it could be of no trouble.

Now only Jabba knew of our arrangement - and I suppose his slave girl that was still chained to the base of his throne. She turned her large black eyes to me in fear, and I knew I could not bear to inflict pain upon her, although of course Fortuna would be fine when he awoke in a few hours. I trusted I had demonstrated my power enough that she would remain silent, and I had no worry about the protocol droid as I knew Jabba performed nightly memory wipes.

"Do we understand one another?" I asked Jabba, trying not to think about the lives I had just taken in cold blood.

Jabba watched me silently for a few moments, puffing away on his hookah before his lips curled into a satisfied smile and he nodded.