Instead of rambling here, let's read. (Revised 3/22/2005)
On Coruscant, the Emperor ruled supreme.
On Star Destroyers, Vader ruled supreme.
In the Outer Rim, crime lords ruled supreme.
But none of this mattered to eleven-year old Luke Skywalker. Luke sat listlessly at the end of his bed, mindlessly playing with a model ship, not paying it any attention. Luke only had one thing on his mind: He only wanted transportation of his own. It really didn't matter what kind of transportation it was; for Luke it could have been a modified droid with an engine attached to it. The only thing standing in his way was his Uncle Owen.
Uncle Owen had agreed that if Luke would save and earn the money, he could go out and buy something, but Luke realized the trick that his uncle was playing on him. Luke would never be able to save enough money with his meager allowance. It would take seven more years to get enough money for a land speeder (according to the average price of the cheaper models). And that was if the prices dropped massively in the next three years.
So Luke decided that earning money would the best option for him, but where was an eleven-year old boy supposed to get a job? His aunt and uncle refused to let him work in Anchorhead. ("To dangerous for a little boy," they always said.) The only place that they would let him work at was on his uncle's moisture farm, and that was where his allowance was coming from.
Sighing greatly, Luke tossed his toy to the ground and flopped on to his bed. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked himself. "Rob a bank? Start collecting bounties?" Sighing again, he pitied himself over the hopelessness of his situation. He was only an eleven-year old living in the middle of the largest desert in the Outer Rim Territories. But before Luke could continue to wallow in his misery and come up with another moneymaking scheme, his Aunt Beru called to him.
"Luke?" she yelled from the kitchen. "Luke, dinner's ready. Go and get your uncle and tell him it's time to eat."
"Okay!" Luke yelled back. Suppressing the urge to sigh, Luke slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He flattened a few stray hairs against his head and ran to the spot he last saw his uncle at. Owen Lars was bent over a power generator on the surface, working on the generator trying to fix some of the glitches that kept on coming back. Luke skipped and bounded over to his uncle. Once he was near his uncle, Luke stopped skipping and approached in a more controlled manner. Owen was so engrossed with his work that he did not notice his nephew and kept on struggling and cursing with the machine.
"Uncle Owen?" asked Luke tentatively, hoping that his uncle's anger would not transfer from the generator to him. "Um...Aunt Beru says dinner's ready." Owen snapped around as his reverie was broken, almost yelling at the intrusion on his work, but, recognizing Luke, quickly relaxed.
He stood up straight and stretched, cracking joints back into place. "Alright, Luke. Let's go eat." Once they reached the kitchen, the food was lying on the table, ready to be eaten. Beru was sitting at one end of the table, serving herself. She looked slightly worried as she nibbled on some vegetables, deep in thought.
The family ate quietly, with the only noise being the scrapes of their plates, the pouring of drinks, and Luke's legs tapping onto the leg of the chair. Once Owen was sufficiently filled, he asked for the daily news, in his usual meal tradition. Beru grew even more distressed looking at the question.
"Bad news today, Owen," she began. "First of all, Jabba put a bounty on a group of swindlers today who supposedly stole about 20 thousand credits from him. The bounty is worth more than the money they stole." She pushed some of the food around her plate, not looking up at her husband. "Second of all," she continued, "Mos Eisley will be getting a detachment of Storm Troopers. Supposedly, the Emperor is tired of not controlling the Rim." She broke off for a moment.
"What is the rest, Beru?" queried Owen, tension growing on his face. The normally tranquil Beru looked increasingly tense. Luke just sat there trying to figure out the news.
Beru sighed and looked deeply into Owen's eyes. "Darth Vader is in charge of bringing them here."
In a heartbeat, Owen changed from somber to enraged. "He's coming here?" he screamed, jumping up, knocking his chair down. Luke scooted back in his chair to get away from his towering uncle. Owen abruptly realized he was scaring Luke and sat down. He took a deep breath and said more calmly, "He's coming here? What about..." He threw a furtive glance at Luke and looked back at Beru. "What if he finds out about…?"
Beru looked slightly dismayed, but said, "Ben will take care of it." She did not even look like she fully believed what she was saying.
"He better," said Owens with finality.
With his boyish face scrunched up, subconsciously chewing on his lip, Luke sat at his desk, blankly staring at his homework. When his aunt came to check on him, she thought he was studying hard, but Luke was not paying any attention to his work. He was thinking about moneymaking.
Suddenly a knock on his door interrupted his pondering. Luke started, but then quickly gained composure again. "Yes?" he asked.
The door opened to reveal his uncle. He cautiously entered. "So, my boy," he started. "Working on homework? Good, good." He glanced around the room, as if he was looking for something.
"Did you need something, uncle?" Luke asked after a moment of silence.
"Well, boy, I wanted to talk to you about something," Owen said as he pulled up another chair to sit next to Luke. "Well, in school right now, I heard you're supposed to go to Mos Eisley on a fieldtrip, to see the imperial offices. I'm sorry, Luke, but we don't have the money now. You can't go." Owen's face held an odd look, as if he was concealing something.
"But, Uncle Owen, why now? I really wanted to go!" Luke whined. Owen stood up and looked down on his nephew.
"I'm sorry, Luke, but this is final. You will not go to Mos Eisley." With that, Owen walked out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Luke glared at the door.
"Oh, how I wish that I could have my speeder and go anywhere I wanted," he muttered to himself. With that he went to work, trying to see how he could get money, even if it did not come from his financially strapped aunt and uncle.
So? Tell me what you think.