One would never describe Tatooine as a planet with any safe time of day, but travelling across the desert after sunsdown is the most perilous of all. Night brings out the beasts ready to feed on wayward travelers and cubs who have strayed too far from their pack, and more dangerous still are the Sand People. During the day concealment is their art, only revealing themselves to those who foolishly find themselves in the Wastes the Tuskens have claimed as their own. But at night the entire desert is their dominion and woe befall all who trespass.

I could sense Rooh's fear as we travelled deeper into Tusken territory – the only thing stronger was her determination, and I patted her neck in reassurance as she followed Luke's scent across the desert. I reached out for him through the Force, and the answering glimmer made me breathe a sigh of relief – he was still alive.

It was dark by the time we reached the Tusken camp – their fires the only light between the barren and rocky cliffs. I stopped a safe distance away and dismounted, rubbing Rooh's snout gently.

"Wait here for me, girl," I whispered, knowing that her presence would rile the Bantha herd which was hunkered down just beyond the camp. Rooh whinnied in response, unwilling to let me go alone but I impressed upon her the need to rest, as it was likely she would need all of her strength to carry myself and Luke back across the Wastes at high speed.

I made my way slowly towards the camp, and from the bone sculptures at the edge to ward off trespassers it was not a tribe I was familiar with. Yet my experience with A'Yark's Raiders had shown me that the Sand People were not the mindless and brutal monsters the moisture farmers believed them to be. They were intelligent, and so they could be reasoned with. I tried not to think about how a band of them had kidnapped Anakin's mother and tortured her to death without cause, and instead focused on the task as hand, reaching out to the Force for calm and confidence.

There were two sentries standing guard by the first tent, and it was impossible to avoid their attention. Instead, I raised my hands to show them my empty palms and slowly advanced as they held out their gaderffii sticks and growled a warning in their native language.

"I am no threat," I spoke loudly, imbuing the Force behind my words. "I have only come for the boy."

The sentries conversed between themselves, and then one beckoned me forward. I was cautious, knowing that it was just as likely he would bash my head in as take me into the camp, and I was relieved when he pressed the end of his gaderffii stick lightly to my chest as the other moved behind me to touch his weapon to my back. Held thus they led me into the camp, calling out with their baying tongue to their clanmates.

A group of twenty or so were gathered around the campfire, among them men, women and children distinguished by their masks and cowls. My eyes scanned the area, breathing a deep sigh of relief when I spotted a mop of blond hair by the fire, the only person not covered in thick robes and face coverings. He appeared unharmed, although his hands were bound in front of him.

"Luke!" I started to walk towards him, but the sentries hissed and pressed their sticks into my chest and back. The pressure held me firm, but I had attracted Luke's attention and he looked up at me with obvious relief. He then turned to the Tusken sitting beside him, who I identified as the clan shaman based on the necklace of bone he wore around his neck.

"That's Ben," Luke said. "Don't hurt him, he's my friend."

The Shaman beckoned me closer, and the sentries released me. I walked forward, slightly perplexed but taking the time to catalogue exactly how I could grab Luke and fight my way out if necessary. Always my last option, but important to consider if negotiations went south.

As I approached the Shaman held out his hand – he wanted an offering. I had little on my person and knew that the Sand People cared not for Tatooine currency. Then I remembered the Tuskens held water sacred; believed it to be theirs by right and the root of their conflict with the settlers.

I grasped my waterskin and held it out to the Shaman, bowing my head in deference. Another clan member snatched it from me and presented it to the Shaman, who unscrewed the lid and sniffed the water before taking a sip. He muttered a few words in Tusken and then nodded, passing the water to the rest of the clan to drink in turn.

"Luke," I said softly while they were occupied. "What happened?"

"I was trying to help," he told me earnestly. "Uncle Owen and the others were talking about striking first, and Aunt Beru was so scared. I thought if I could explain things, everything would be okay, no one would get hurt."

The Shaman bayed at me to draw my attention, gesturing to Luke and then to me. I sought understanding through the Force, and made out the word 'prisoner' and 'withdraw.'

"You could get hurt. They plan to hold you hostage, Luke," I said evenly. "Return you only for exchange for reclaimed land." It was something I knew the farmers would never agree to – this would start a war which would never end.

The Shaman pointed to me again and then back to the camp entrance, his meaning plain enough.

"They want me to take terms back to the farmers," I explained to Luke. "But don't worry, I will not leave you here."

Luke looked at me somewhat petulantly, and then shrugged and scuffed his booted feet in the sand. But I didn't have time to dwell on his strange reaction, and turned back to the Shaman.

"Let me take the boy as a sign of good faith," I said, spreading my palms outward to indicate conciliation. "I will make sure the farmer's will not breach your territory nor divert your water supplies. None of us want war."

A few of the younger Tuskens began to chant and beat their chests, but I knew posturing when I saw it. The elders were too careful and knew that fighting with the farmers would only drain resources and give them little in return. The Shaman held out his hands and stood, silencing the cries of his people. Then he pointed to me, and gestured to the camp entrance – go, he seemed to say. Do what you say you can.

Then he pointed to the ground, and lay a hand on Luke's head. The boy will stay.

I looked around at the camp, and wondered if the Shaman's words could restrain his people. I was unwilling to take the chance - Luke would not be safe, and there was no way I could agree to the proposition.

"No," I shook my head and unhooked my lightsaber from my belt, igniting the blue blade. "He is coming with me now."

It had the desired effect – the women began to screech and the young men who had been so brave only moments ago were suddenly cowering in fear. The Shaman drew back pointing at me and repeating one word over and over – a word I knew.

Demon.

"Luke," I said calmly, my eyes on the Shaman so he would understand that I was serious. "Come here."

The boy looked up to the Shaman as if for permission, but the Tusken seemed to have forgotten he was present. Luke stood and waddled over, twisting his bound hands in front of him. It made quick work of the bindings with my lightsaber, and he gasped and looked up at me in wonder.

I put one hand on Luke's shoulder and drew him with me as I walked backwards, holding out my blade in a warning. I could taste their fear – the sight of my lightsaber had struck something visceral deep inside the tribe, something they were unwilling to challenge.

Rooh was waiting just outside the camp, and I hurriedly placed Luke onto her back before climbing up myself. She took off immediately in a fast gallop, putting distance between us and the Tuskens in a matter of minutes. I had feared them following on their banthas, but it seemed the fear was too strong and for that I was grateful. Once far enough from the camp Rooh slowed down to a walk, and I turned my attention to my Luke.

"What were you thinking?" I asked, unable to keep the anger from my voice. "We were lucky to get out of there alive."

Luke shrugged, and I was unable to see his face or read his mood through the Force. It seemed my lessons in that regard had worked, and he now instinctively hid his emotions.

"They didn't hurt me."

"But they could have," I chided him. "All actions have consequences, Luke, even if your intentions are good."

Luke was silent for a long time, but his shoulders were stiff and he grasped the saddle tightly. I sighed, not wanting to be too harsh on the boy but needing him to understand.

"Why don't you come to see me anymore, Ben?" His words were soft and plaintive in the darkness.

I was caught off guard, unsure of what to say since I did not wish him to think badly of his uncle, or myself for that matter. I thought back to the bright child who thought through every exercise I gave him, seeking a greater truth beyond the lesson. I'd taught him to trust his instincts and look for a solution, and perhaps that was exactly what he'd been doing that night. He saw the Tuskens not as an enemy, but as people to be listened to and reasoned with.

It was the attitude of a true Jedi, and while such a thought should have filled me with joy, all I felt was dread that Owen would see it exactly the same way.