Author: Sam

Story: Bounty Hunt: 3 of ?

Series: n/a

Characters: Luke Skywalker, unnamed Jedi Knight, unnamed woman, Sama Thar (pronounced SAH-mah TAR)- infant

Setting: Unnamed Rebel base sometime between “A New Hope” and “The Empire Strikes Back”.

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/samwise_baggins/index.html

Gasping in pain, Luke Skywalker pulled his hand back from the control panel of the X-Wing he’d been working on. Blast; that hurt! Pulling a cloth from the pocket of his orange work dungarees, the young pilot wrapped it around the now bleeding injury to the webbing between thumb and forefinger, cursing softly to himself as he tried to will away the pain. He didn’t want any of the other pilots or mechanics to know he’d gotten such a stupid injury.

Luke shifted, turning to lean back against the ship, still in a squatting pose, his injured hand cradled against his waist. With a sigh, the young man looked over the bustle around him; so many people, so much purpose. He’d joined the rebellion because of Princess Leia, and he never regretted that decision, but somehow, he still wanted more from life.

He had always been restless. Spending the first twenty years of his life on a desert planet, trying to wring moisture out of the very air, Luke had dreamt of flying to other worlds and fighting in the war between the Empire and the small rebellion. Naturally, he had always dreamed of joining the Imperials, but that was before he realized just what the Imperials were, just who the rebellion was. It was a dream that had twisted with time and reality, but had not been lost.

Now, however, despite being an accepted, even decorated, member of that growing rebel force, restless still practically consumed him. It wasn’t that he enjoyed the fighting, the destruction, but he sure did crave the excitement.

And he missed Ben.

The old Jedi Knight had been trying to teach him the ways of the force. Luke had so far been able to black laser fire while blinded and fire torpedoes into a two meter ventilation shaft without computer targeting. There was so much more to learn, but Ben… old Obi-Wan Kenobi… had never made it off the Imperial Death Star alive. Darth Vader, the same evil man that had killed Luke’s father, Anakin, had struck down Ben right before Luke’s eyes.

True, he’d heard the old Knight’s voice since then, but only in times of great stress. It had been weeks since he’d last heard his mentor. Just as it had been weeks since he’d had anything more exciting to do than to fix ships and discuss the battle over the Death Star, as if he were some retired old space pilot down in Mos Eisley. Sneaking to a new, hidden location every few weeks wasn’t Luke’s idea of excitement.

Sliding the temporary bandaging from his hand, Luke checked to see if it had stopped bleeding. With a sigh, he tightened it once more then let his eyes drift over the underground hangar the rebels were using for their latest temporary base. With a frown, he noticed that there wasn’t any sign of the Princess or Han Solo, a smuggler who had reluctantly let himself be swept into the rebellion and hadn’t yet gotten around to making good on his threats to leave.

Han’s life must have been so exciting up until now. Luke toyed with images of ducking bounty hunters and sneaking past blockades and security forces. It was a wonder Han stuck around at all with how dull the current days were. True, most of the rebels seemed to welcome the quiet peace, rebuilding their lost numbers and sowing seeds of unrest through local populations. Too soon, they promised, there would be more death and destruction.

Sighing, Luke acknowledged Wedge Antilles’ greeting then turned back to his X-Wing, picking up his welding tool to once more work on the loose joint. Letting his mind wander, actually letting his mind go almost blank, Luke barely registered what he was doing. He was losing himself in a daydream of sorts, his hands working instinctively as his eyes blindly processed information his conscious mind ignored. Rather, his mind’s eye saw another time, another place, and Luke was lost in the weaving of the vision unfolding for him.

It was dark… almost too dark with clouds blotting out stars and moon. There were few lights in the lower section of town, some destroyed by vandals, others fallen into disrepair most could little afford to correct. It was the way the denizens of the lower town liked it; however, so no one put out efforts to change the dangerous gloom.

The lone figure strode purposefully through the streets, unconcerned about the less-than-honest folk he passed, but not unaware of them. He moved with grace and self-assurance, and even the most brazen of pick pockets shied away from the cloaked stranger. It took, not someone of ill repute, but a desperate, dying woman to stop the man in his tracks.

“Sir,” her voice was hoarse, harsh and withered with hunger and illness. She moved closer as the cloaked figure stopped. A bundle, haphazardly wrapped, clenched tightly to her breast. “A moment, Sir,” she stepped close, her head tipped down in humiliation, a life down-trodden on display for anyone who might care to see.

He nearly recoiled at the foul stench emanating from the dirty, tattered woman. Controlling himself, he looked calmly down at the degenerate, waiting to see what she might have to say to him. Most of the time, no one dared approach a Jedi Knight without legitimate business.

The sound of angry voices in the distance seemed to cause the woman alarm. Her watery eyes widened and she glanced fearfully over her shoulder. Sidling as close as possible to the stranger, she suddenly thrust her burden into his arms. “Sama Thar.” Then, almost before he knew it, she was off and running. With the force he could track her movements, and he knew that it was only a matter of seconds before the angry men had found her… and ended her miserable existence.

With a frown, the Jedi looked down at the dirty bundle he now held. He could feel the life force emanating from it and knew it to be hungry and cold, though it made no audible noise. Instinctively, he knew that this child had been of the woman’s flesh, not some victim of a kidnapping or theft gone wrong.

Pulling back the covering with difficulty, nose wrinkling at the filthy cloth, he exposed the child to the cool night air. A mass of dark tangles, dirty and limp, pretty well obliterated the infant’s features. There were lesions, the kind that develops on the unwashed, and the body was so thin, one might be forgiven for thinking there couldn’t possibly be any life left in it.

Dark eyes opened, and something new stirred in the Jedi’s mind. He could feel the force, strong in the child, the force to live… and the Force itself. Perhaps the Force wasn’t as strong as it was in the greatest masters, but it was strong enough to warrant bringing the infant back to the Temple with him. “Sama Thar, is it? Well, youngling, I shall bring you to a new home. It will be as dangerous as this, but more rewarding.”

The man covered the child once more and disappeared into the darkness of the poor Corellian streets.

“Hey, Kid, wake up!”

The familiar voice loudly broke through Luke’s dreaming, drawing him with a start back to the here and now. Confused, the young pilot hurriedly looked around, trying to un-fog his brain. His eyes settled on his friend, Han Solo, striding purposefully towards him, and Luke eased himself to a standing position, stretching the kinks from a body too long held in one position. “Han!” He let the uneasy vision go, grinning as he pulled the older man into a brief hug. “I thought you’d have left by now.”

A cocky grin crossed the smugglers face and he shook his head. “Nah. I was just looking up an old friend. Thought these guys could use a little more help.” Han threw his arm around Luke’s shoulders and started guiding him back the way he’d come.

Luke didn’t protest. He let himself be guided as he listened to the amusing description of some bar somewhere Han had gone to look up a friend of his. Apparently he’d convinced the guy, too, because Han seemed to want to introduce this other scoundrel to the former farmer. Luke didn’t mind; it sure would help alleviate the boredom around here.

As the strode down the hall towards the small Command Room set aside for the rebellion’s leaders, Han summed up his tale with an energetic, “And even though Samii’s a bounty hunter, there’s none better on your side when you’re in a bind, Kid. Trust me. We’ve run across one or two tight fixes in our time, and that’s one little bounty hunter that can weasel out of anything.” He grinned down at Luke, letting the younger man go. “Agreed to join the rebellion, too. Hates the Imperials worse than the Princess does.”

“That’s saying something,” Luke put in, a bit dazed. He knew Han came from a seedy background, but associating with bounty hunters? Was there anything this guy hadn’t done? Determined to give Han’s friend a chance, but wary just the same, Luke let himself be guided into the Command room to meet this mysterious Samii.