Title: Up From Slavery 


Disclaimer: I don't own them. Shame isn't it? 


Posting: Ask and, behold!, it will be. 


Summery: Luke's a slave on Tatooine. 



	"HOO HOO HOO!" The laugh broke through the confusion that Owen was being 
dizzied with. What was Jabba doing here? And more importantly, Owen thought 
wildly, why was Luke outside near him??? Indeed, there was young Luke, 
jumping around Jabba's men like he had no care in the world. Luke should 
have something to worry about, Owen thought frustrated. He should have to 
worry about the crops coming in, about whether there will be enough moisture 
for them to drink, have to worry about VADER, for Sith's sake. But Owen 
quieted himself. Luke was just a boy, barely 5 Standard, he shouldn't have 
to have the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. After all, that was what 
he was preventing by sending Obi-Wan away time after time.


	"Lars," Jabba's majordomo, Posey, began with disgust as he approached. "You 
are in major trouble. You owe Jabba money, big time."


	"Look, Posey, I can get you the money by next season. I just don't have the 
money now." Owen said nervously.


	"It's too late, Lars. Jabba will have to find another way to get his 
money." Posey looked around the farm disapprovingly, eyes finally settling 
on Luke. "Jabba will take him as a slave to pay off your debt." He said 
finally.


	Owen was desperate. "No, anything but him. I'll go, Posey, just don't take 
him! He's the world to me and to Beru! She can't live without him!"


	"Then you'll learn to pay on time." Posey turned and snapped his fingers at 
one of the beings hanging around. "Get the boy! We don't have all day!" They 
complied. Luke looked back as they picked him up and waved sadly. He 
understood what was going on. He also understood that no matter how hard he 
thought his last life to be, this was going to be much harder.


	Owen heard someone approaching from behind him. Beru. "He's gone, isn't 
he?" She asked, sadly.

      "Yes." Owen stated as unemotionally as possible. 



	"Why do you have to be so proud, Owen? Why won't you go to Obi-Wan? Even 
now, I can tell you won't go. Why, Owen? For Luke's sake."


	"You know how much more trouble Luke'll be in if that old hermit gets his 
hands on him? No, Beru, I'll find a way to get Luke away from Jabba by 
myself. I don't need that mythical force to help me!" Owen spun on his heel 
and marched back into the homestead, Beru following silently behind him.

That night: 



	A silent, dark figure slipped through the shadows around the giant 
fortress. The figure glided up to the back where all the garbage was thrown. 
'Well, that commando training finally came in handy,' the figure thought 
ironically. He crept along the perimeter, slowly coming in closer to the 
building. It took a standard hour for him to get to the back entrance of 
Jabba's Palace.


	Owen took out a laser rifle and pushed a code. It hummed to life. Beru had 
always wondered why he had kept his commando uniform and weapons from the 
clone wars. He had always answered that it might come in handy some day. 
Well, this was that day. He hadn't seen much action during the wars, so 
everything was still in top condition, if a little old. There was only one 
tool missing. Owen couldn't even remember what it had been for. If he had, 
maybe he would've succeeded that night in recapturing Luke. As it was, he 
was lucky to get away with his life.


	As he crossed an unseen line, silent alarms went off all over the palace. 
Guards ran to their posts, grumbling that the best time for drills was NOT 
in the middle of the night. Jabba himself didn't deign to wake up, feeling 
safe in the knowledge that no one could get past his defenses. Boba Fett, at 
the palace to pick up a bounty, immediately came alert, his scanners 
penetrating the walls, searching for an adversary. But down in the slaves' 
quarters, little Luke Skywalker didn't stir, having been worn out from his 
first day as a slave.


	Owen was thirty paces in when he felt it, a tension in the air. Spinning 
around, he came face to face with a Gamorean. A sinking feeling came over 
him. When there's one, there's always more, a lot more. Owen took a step 
backwards. As more and more Gamoreans came out of the darkness, he turned 
and ran. Sprinting, he made the door before it was closed.


	He leaned against the wall outside, panting. He wasn't in as much shape as 
he had thought he was, and it still was a bit to get to his speeder. He 
looked around. Speeders were coming. And so was dawn. Owen sighed. No matter 
what it took, he'd get Luke out of there. But for the life of him, he 
couldn't figure out how.


	Over the next few months, Jabba's fortress was nightly breeched until Jabba 
got fed up and installed a new security system. Owen was forced to stop his 
nightly rescue attempts, but was still too proud to tell Obi-Wan about Luke. 
As for Luke, he had settled in as a slave, and after a few weeks of labor, 
could hardly remember what his former life was like save that he had one.


	And on far off Coruscant, Vader found out he had a son. But all his 
meditations couldn't breach the deep shields Obi-Wan had placed around Luke 
as a newborn. But he kept trying. He knew that one day it would pay off, 
that he would be united with his son.

A Few Years Later: 



	Luke looked up from the hyperdrive he was fixing. In one hour, he would 
have some free time. He couldn't wait to get started on his new pod. He had 
never tried to make one before and was excited to begin this challenge. He 
had build a speeder, a transfer, and blaster, and other things, but they had 
all been found and taken away. The supervisor had called him 'Little 
Skywalker' and tousled his hair before confiscating them. Slaves weren't 
allowed any hobbies.


	Luke sometimes wondered what they were supposed to do in their free hour if 
they weren't allowed to have hobbies. But like all his other questions, it 
was never asked. Questions were frowned upon, he learned that quickly.


	He had learned a lot as a slave. He had learned never to be seen by the 
Master, to never be seen by the Supervisor, to basically stay out of sight 
and to do his jobs. His jobs were always hard. No matter how tough the last 
one had been, the next one was always more difficult. It sometimes seemed 
that they wanted him to fail. And he did, frequently. But he never failed at 
a mechanics job. He had heard a Supervisor chuckle over his name. He said 
that mechanics were in Skywalkers' blood. Luke was too scared to ask what 
that meant.


	But he could fix anything, he found out quickly. But finishing something 
too quickly made the Supervisors notice him, so he went as slow as he could. 
He hoped that his hiding place for the pod was good. He didn't want it taken 
away like the other hobbies were. He was scared at what would happen if it 
was found out. He could still feel the punishment when the speeder he had 
been working on was found. It wasn't the only punishment that had left scars 
on his back, but it had left the most scars and it had kept him in bed for a 
month. He didn't want that to happen again.


	Luke's life was filled with fear. Fear of being whipped, fear of having his 
hobbies taken away, fear of the Lottery, fear in general. The Supervisors 
cultivated it. They said that scared slaves were good slaves. And the boys 
were especially scared of The Lottery. The Lottery was something all the 
slave boys feared, but no one knew exactly what it was for. All their names 
were in it. Every few months, a name would be picked and that boy would 
leave, never to return. No one knew where the boys went. Some said that they 
were sent to the god Sarlacc who lived in the desert. Others believed that 
the boys were sent to the Master's pleasure galleries. Still more said they 
were tortured for show. But the boys chosen tried to delude themselves that 
they went to freedom, but underneath their gallantry was pure terror. They 
all lived in fear of the Lottery.


	Luke looked around. Good, there was no one near him. His stuff was 
carefully marked 'Luke Skywalker'. It was the only thing he knew how to 
write, and he was proud of it. It doubly set him above his peers. The first 
that he could write, the second that he had a first name. True, everyone 
called him 'Skywalker', but he knew he had a first name. It meant that he 
had had a life before slavery. Slaves born in the Hold were given only one 
name. It was a status symbol to have two names. He quickly shot a glance 
over at his stuff as the bell rang, signaling the end of shift.


	He returned to the slave quarters, being very careful to stay in the 
shadows. As he opened the door to the boys' room, the Supervisor was there 
waiting for him. He held up the curtain in front of Luke's pod. "What's 
this, Skywalker?" He asked in Huttese, teeth showing. Luke gulped.

      "A pod, sir." 



	"And why were you building a pod, Skywalker?" His voice was low, dangerous. 
"I told you before, Skywalker. The next thing I find you building, I'll do 
what to you?"

      "Take me before the Master." Luke mumbled. 


      "What?" 


      "Take me before the Master." Luke said louder. 



	"Yes." The Supervisor smiled. It wasn't a kind smile, Luke thought. "And 
that's what I'm going to do. Come with me."


	Luke followed him silently through the corridors to the Throne room. When 
they reached it, Luke looked around wildly, trying to absorb everything. If 
this was to be his last day alive, he wanted to take as much experience as 
he could with him. As they approached the dais, Luke's eyes were riveted on 
the form before him. The Master was huge, bigger than almost anything Luke 
had ever seen before. He was holding the chain to a slave girl, who was 
struggling to get away from him. Luke could've sworn that he recognized her; 
she looked like one of the older girl slaves that had been taken out of the 
girls' room a few seasons ago. But as his eyes met hers, Luke was taken 
aback. There was nothing in them but desperation. 'Get me out of here!' Her 
eyes screamed at him. 'I can't!' Luke willed his eyes to tell her, and to 
his surprise, she nodded, as if receiving his message. How did he do that, 
Luke wondered. But he didn't wonder long. The Master had started speaking.

      "What is it, Supervisor?" 



	"Master," the supervisor bowed, "this is Skywalker. He has been building 
things in his spare time. I caught him today building a pod."

      "A pod? Ho Ho Ho!! And tell me, Skywalker, why were you building a pod?" 


      "Master, I wanted to build it because I wanted to fly it, Master." 



	"You think you can fly a pod? No mere human can. It is a sign of one of the 
many weaknesses of your species."

      "I know I can." Luke was adamant. 



	"Supervisor, put him in a pod. If he can fly it, he lives. If he 
can't...well, he'll die in the attempt anyway."


	"Yes Master." The Supervisor bowed and left the room, Luke trailing after 
him.

A Few Months Later: 



	Vader's consol blinked. He turned to it in surprise. He had set this consol 
to give him any galactic news from Tatooine. That old mothball was still 
home, no matter how much he hated it, and he couldn't resist knowing what 
was going on. He pulled it up and set the reader to 'loud'.


	"RECORD SET, SECOND HUMAN PODRACER EVER!" The reader said. Vader looked up 
sharply. "Luke Skywalker, age 8 in human years, became the second human 
podracer in the history of the galaxy. Skywalker, a slave of Jabba the Hutt, 
started training as a podracer in just the last few months. The first human 
podracer, as we all know, was Anakin Skywalker. According to the boy's 
closest relations, Owen and Beru Lars, there is no relation between Anakin 
and Luke Skywalker. After Anakin Skywalker won the Boonta Eve, many parents 
resolved to name their children after him, they explain. Skywalker will be 
competing in this year's Boonta Eve Race..." Vader smashed the consol 
angrily. HOW IN ALL THE JEDI HELLS COULD *HIS* SON BE A SLAVE? It was 
inconceivable! He didn't believe that Bantha-dung for a second. Lars...he 
was Obi-Wan's brother! How could Lars dare sell Vader's son as a slave?! It 
didn't matter, Vader decided. He would go to Tatooine and buy Luke himself. 
And then they would be together, father and son. As it should have been from 
the beginning.


	Luke jumped out of the podracer and bowed to the Master, who had been 
watching.

      "Good, Skywalker. But if you do not win..." Jabba trailed off. 


      Luke understood. "Yes, Master." 


      "Then run along, Skywalker." 



	Luke bowed and left the ring. It had been six months since he had been 
tried out on the pod and only two days since the article had come out on 
him. He hadn't met Owen and Beru Lars, hadn't heard that they had commented 
on him, didn't even remember who they were, in fact. He was excited. The 
Boonta Eve was coming up and then he was going to show everyone that you 
didn't have to be a stinking alien to fly! He wasn't fazed by the fact that 
the last human flyer had stopped after winning only one race. Luke wasn't 
even scared. He knew he could win.


	Luke heard someone coming and dodged into a corner. Two aliens passed by 
him, talking loudly and completely ignoring him. Stupid aliens, Luke thought 
angrily. They could at least pretend he was important! At least pretend he 
was alive! Humans didn't snub him like that! True, they did tend to beat him 
or hit him when they did see him, but at least it was acknowledgement!


	Suddenly Luke spun around. He could have sworn someone was calling his 
name. But there was no one there and there was no sound in the hall way. But 
there it was again! 'What's going on?' He asked himself.


	'Luke.' There it was again! What was going on? Luke wondered. 'I'll be 
there soon. Stay safe.'


	"What in all the hells of Iego is going on?" Luke yelled. On, on, on echoed 
off the walls, but he received no answer. "Who are you?!" You, you, you, 
mixed with the on's echoing off the walls.


	'Wait for me.' The sound said again. Luke yelled silently in his brain at 
the fleeting voice. 'Huh? How did I know the voice was leaving?' Luke asked 
himself. But there was no answer.


	Luke shrugged uneasily and continued back to the boys quarters slowly, 
hoping that the voice would speak again. The voice had been full of an 
emotion Luke couldn't place, but it felt warm and nice, like something that 
would be out of place here. It felt like affection...like that thing that 
the new boys were always talking about. What was it called? It annoyed Luke 
that he couldn't remember. What was it called? What was this mysterious 
emotion that this mysterious voice held?


	Vader looked out the window out into the Tattoo System. He had to do this 
quietly. Palpatine didn't know about Luke, and if Vader had his way, he 
never would. He wouldn't know about Luke until it was too late. Vader knew 
he wasn't as strong in the Force as Palpatine, not in his present state 
anyway. Even Luke wasn't as powerful as Palpatine. But Luke could be. He was 
still at an age when his brain was still growing, still at an age when the 
Dark Side would work extremely well on him. So, in his need for secrecy, he 
had sent the fleet to a few systems over and trekked the way here himself. 
The head officers who knew of this would be dead in days anyway. That was 
the good thing about his reputation. It could cover so many little 
nuisances. Not that his son was nuisance.


	As he looked down on the planet speeding towards him, Vader's thoughts 
turned to the last time he was down here. He had been 17 and had learned 
that his mother had died. Even then he hadn't felt much emotion. He hadn't 
started his Dark Side training yet, but he never felt sad over her death. 
Obi-Wan was surprised and angry that he hadn't and Vader had hated himself 
for a while for not feeling anything. Then Palpatine came along and told him 
it was because he had been conceived by the Force that he hadn't felt 
anything. Actually, Palpatine had said he was conceived by the Dark Side, 
but Vader knew that that was impossible.


	The shuttle touched down on Tatooine with hardly a sound. The local Jawas 
came scurrying out to get a better look and were thrown away from the ship 
by the power of the Dark Side. Chattering to themselves, they went on into 
the desert.


	"Now, to find this Hutt." Vader spoke aloud to himself, taking out a 
speeder from his ship.


	The door to the Lars' moisture farm banged open and Obi-Wan Kenobi, former 
Jedi Knight, came running in.

      "Vader's here. On Tatooine. Where's Luke?" He panted. 


      "Why? What do you want with him?" Owen stood up. 



	"He isn't here, is he?" Obi-Wan's senses flared. "He isn't anywhere near 
here. Owen, what happened to him?"

      "It's none of your business, old man. Luke is mine, you said so yourself." 



	"Don't play with me, Owen! Where's Luke?!" Obi-wan was growing desperate. 
"Don't you understand? Vader. Is. Here. For. His. Son. What is so hard to 
understand about this?"


	"Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe that's where Luke belongs? With 
his father?"

      "Owen, you don't mean that and you know it." 


      "You still can't have him. And that's final." 



	"Owen, all I want to know is where he is." Obi-Wan forced himself to be 
calm.

      "Owen! Tell him." Beru urged him from across the kitchen table. 



	Owen looked from one of them to the other and said three words. "Jabba has 
Luke."


	"What?!" Obi-wan couldn't ever remember a time when he was closer to the 
Dark Side. "And you didn't think to tell me."

      Owen sighed and began to tell the whole story to his brother. 


      "Lord Vader, a pleasure to meet you." Majordomo Posey met him at the door. 


      "I doubt it very much, Majordomo." Vader walked right past him. 


      "I'm afraid I must ask you what your business is, m'lord." 



	Vader glared at him. "I'm here to buy myself a slave. I heard that Jabba 
has the best anywhere." Vader snarled under his hood. Imagine, a former 
slave wishing to buy a slave! How foolish could these fools be? Vader still 
couldn't stand the idea of slavery, but that was a battle that he had lost a 
while ago with the Emperor. It was best not to dwell on that thought.


	"Yes, m'lord. Jabba has the best slaves. What kind of slave does my lord 
want?"


	"A young human male." Indeed, that was all Vader knew for certain about his 
son. He guessed blonde hair and blue eyes, but the holo hadn't been very 
clear.


	"Yes, Jabba has many of those. I will show you a selection." The majordomo 
made a motion as if the convey Vader to a different room. The later chose to 
ignore the gesture.


	"I know which slave I want, majordomo. I did not come here to look at some 
half-starved boys."


	"Uh, yes sir." The majordomo sweated in fear. His throat was constricting 
in on itself. Abruptly, it was released from the grip. "Which slave?"

      "Skywalker." 



	"He isn't for sale." The majordomo said evenly. The master wouldn't sell a 
slave that has personal value to him. It was a matter of policy.

      "He is now." Vader reached out and touched Posey's mind. 


      "He is now." Posey repeated. "He is, though, worth a lot." 



	"I will pay a thousand credits for him." Luke was worth much more than 
that, Vader knew. But Posey didn't need to know that.

      "A thousand, m'lord? If he wins the race, he is worth much more than that." 



	"Well, we don't have to worry about him racing at all. I'm taking him now, 
majordomo, whether your master likes it or not. Am I clear?" Vader growled, 
accompanying this threat by applying more pressure on Posey's neck.


	"YES M'LORD!" Posey snapped. He rubbed his neck fearfully. The fact that 
Jabba would probably kill him for this hadn't hit him yet and Vader was 
counting on that fact that Vader's presence banished those thoughts. Once he 
left though...


	"What are you waiting for?" Vader asked. The majordomo nodded and ran off 
to the slaves' quarters, leaving Vader waiting by the door. It was a shame 
really, that he couldn't kill that slimy Hutt, but that would have gotten 
back to Palpatine, raising unwanted questions. But one day, Vader swore, he 
would come back and kill Jabba for daring to sell HIS son. Or better yet, he 
would send Luke. That would be delicious. It was also a shame he would have 
to erase Posey's memory of this meeting, making it seem like Posey had let 
Skywalker escape. He would have relished the thought of Posey being 
punished, yelling the name Vader all the way through and knowing that no one 
could help him. Vader sighed. The things he would give up to be able to 
rule.


	"SKYWALKER!" The shout came while Luke was tinkering with a hyperdrive, 
making him jump.


	"Kretch!" Luke swore harshly. His jumping had made him drop a part into the 
wrong place. He wondered what the Supervisors wanted now.

      "SKYWALKER!" The cry came again. 



	Sighing, Luke got up. He pushed back the tattered curtain that separated 
the boys quarters from the girls. "What?!"

      "There you are. Get your stuff together. You've been sold." 



	Luke was shocked. Sold? It happened a lot, but usually there was a viewing 
before the sale. Even then, the rumor was passed down who had been sold. He 
was small for his age and not very handsome. He had always thought he 
wouldn't be sold. No one would want him. Now, apparently, somebody did. Some 
one important also, to make the Master sell him right before the race and 
the Master had no other racers lined up.

      "Sold, sir?" 


      "You heard me! Now get your stuff!" 



	'What stuff?' Luke felt like asking. He looked around his bed. He didn't 
really own anything. His spare tunic and some boots. That was about it. He 
took a small bag from another boy's bed and stuffed his tunic and spare 
boots in. "Ready, sir."


	"Good. Follow me." The Supervisor walked off to the front door, Luke 
trailing after him.


	The front door came quicker than Luke expected. He really hadn't known what 
to expect. He had never been allowed near the front door, but had heard 
stories of it. A meter thick durasteel with a seeing eye, one of the stories 
went. Every telling made the wall thicker and stronger. It was an icon, 
something they could never get past. And now here he was, going through it. 
His new master stood next to Master Posey by the front door. Luke quickly 
scanned the new master. His years of being a slave had given him an eye to 
read masters, if they abuse their slaves, if they're nice to them, things 
like that. But this new master he couldn't read at all. It scared him a 
little.


	The new master turned to him, staring at him from beneath the hood. "This 
is Skywalker?" He asked Master Posey.

      "Yes m'lord." Master Posey bowed. 



	"Good. I'll take him now. Here's the money." The new master handed Master 
Posey are credit chit. Luke did his best not to stare and to look down. 
Masters liked it when you were invisible. "Come, boy."


	Luke trotted dutifully after him, never looking back. After they were out 
of scope range of Jabba's fortress, the new master looked down at him.

      "What shall I call you?" The new master asked. 



	"I am called Skywalker, Mas-" The end of Luke's sentence was lost as the 
roar of a speeder overtook them. The speeder halted and a figure jumped out. 
The figure started walking towards them.


	"Go hide, Luke." The new master ordered him quietly. "Stay safe." Luke 
obeyed.


	As Obi-wan walked towards Vader, he had an acute sense of déjà vu. Almost 
this same exact thing had happened almost 10 years ago, on the fire planet 
of Aish. Obi-Wan had lured the other man there with rumors of Jedi activity. 
Obi-Wan had chosen to confront Vader by a fire pit, to show him the futility 
of anger, but instead, Vader had chosen to duel. It was a hard battle and, 
though Vader kept trying to cut of his former master's head, Obi-Wan could 
not bring himself to kill his former apprentice. It had almost been a fatal 
mistake. Vader had had no such qualms about killing Obi-Wan and, in a moment 
of strength, had pushed Obi-Wan's lightsaber away with the Force and had 
kicked his former master of the edge into the fire pit. Vader had then 
turned and left, leaving Obi-Wan for dead. But he hadn't died. A sympathetic 
onlooker had hefted him out and healed him. It had taken over a year, and by 
then, Amidala was in her 6th month, and Luke was in need to hiding. Tatooine 
had seemed like such a good idea. If only his brother, Owen, had had the 
sense to tell him about Luke in the first place! Then this whole situation 
could have been avoided.


	He walked up to Vader. "Been a long time, Anakin." He attempted to smile 
and failed miserably.

      "Stop with the familiarities, Obi-Wan. You cannot have Luke." 



	"Anakin. Don't you see what the dark side will do to him...?" Obi-Wan 
trailed off as Vader ignited his lightsaber.


	"Obi-Wan, you had him for years and then you had him sold as a slave! It 
was almost like you were baiting fate. Well, fate took the hook and now I 
know about Luke. You cannot have him."

      "You would fight me for him?" Obi-Wan asked sadly. 



	"Yes." Vader answered, accompanying that monosyllable with a thrust to 
Obi-Wan's neck, which was parried as the later brought his saber out 
half-heartedly.


	Luke watched fascinated as they spared. His master was clearly the better 
one, even to his inexperienced eyes. The other man kept pressing his master 
back, but the master kept pressing him back. They moved so quickly, Luke 
couldn't follow. After a bit, he lost interest and started thinking over 
what the master had told him to do. 'Stay safe.' It was almost an echo of 
that imagined voice, or was it really imagined? He had a feeling his new 
master could answer that.


	As Obi-Wan sparred, he reached out to touch the Force, which Vader had been 
blocking from him. It slammed into him forcibly and he stumbled away from 
Vader. In that second a vision came to him.


	A big room, royally decorated, with a throne in the back. A multitude of 
people, standing around, as if waiting for something. Coruscant's skyline, 
Star Destroyers in orbit. A figure surrounded by an entourage enters, the 
throng of people standing around kneel. The entourage keeps following the 
figure, who Obi-Wan was starting to see quite clearly. He had short, close 
cut blonde hair with a golden wreath around his head. He wore a regal 
outfit, for there were no other words to describe it. A cape of black set 
off the purple clothing. With a start, Obi-Wan realized it was Anakin. 
Anakin reached the stairs going up to the throne and mounted them, leaving 
his entourage behind. All stay put at the foot of the stairs, kneeling, 
except for one youth who follows Anakin up the stairs. As Anakin sits down 
in the throne, the figure kneels quickly and puts his head down in a sharp 
motion, like this is only courtesy, but with much respect and thanks. 
Puzzled, Obi-Wan studied the youth intensely.


	'Rise,' Anakin says quietly and the youth glides up, as if the word was 
meant for him alone. Walking purposefully, the youth walks to Anakin's right 
and turns around, staring out over the gathering. Obi-Wan took in the 
youth's blond hair and blue eyes, along with the gold circlet parting the 
golden hair, before he realized with a shock who the youth was. It was Luke.


	Thrown out the vision by shock, Obi-Wan had just enough time to block 
Vader's would-be killing blow. Angered by what he had seen, Obi-Wan attacked 
his former apprentice with a vengeance. But the vision wasn't as over as he 
thought it was. The Jedi Master was thrown into the vision world again. This 
time all he could see was a dark room, but he could hear a lot more. Sounds 
made way to words, which made way to sentences. One of the voices was 
Anakin's, he was sure of that. The other, he could only guess was Luke's.

      'Kneel before your lord and master.' 


      'Do you want something, Master?' 


      'Huh?' 


      'Tell me a story.' 



	The voice changed and Obi-Wan realized with a lurch that the all that he 
had really heard had been Luke's voice. Luke said that? But Anakin was 
talking now.

      'Come, my son.' 


      'Foolish child.' 



	The words were, in themselves, harsh, but the tone was full of something 
else. Affection, love even. And in that moment, Obi-Wan doubted the 
rightness of what he was doing. Would he be able to give Luke all that? He 
didn't think so. He kept going back to what Owen had said. Was it really so 
bad if Vader got Luke? Obi-Wan wasn't so sure anymore.


	That moment of hesitation proved fatal as Vader's blade struck through 
Obi-Wan's middle, killing him. As his essence fled into the Force, he was 
still wondering if Vader having Luke was really a bad idea after all.

TBC