I don't own Star Wars.
Unbeknownst to eighteen-year-old Luke Skywalker, he's become the star of a controversial documentary. After its release both the Imps and Rebels alike want to get their hands on him: especially one angry Sith Lord hell bent on retrieving his son.
Chapter One: The Hot Shot
"Stupid vaporator," Luke Skywalker grumbled to himself. It was a regular complaint that he had when working on this vaporator – for all sixty-three GX-8 water vaporators located on the Lars' moisture farm as a matter of fact. No matter how many times he said it, it still held true. At least Luke thought so. They broke down almost constantly due to the heat and sand, and the droid patch-in units that were used to translate the binary language needed almost as much maintenance as the vaporators themselves.
He knew complaining would get him nowhere, but as it was, he wasn't going anywhere. Fixing vaporators was the only "purpose" his life held at the moment. Even as his eyes drifted off over the dunes toward the direction of Beggar's canyon, he knew daydreaming would only add time onto his work schedule and make it longer than necessary for him to get to where he really wanted to be. Not to mention he had a feeling if he focused and got his work down early, he might be able to get an evening to hang out with his friends, something he hadn't done in over two weeks. Reminding himself to stay focused, he did another cursory check of the repairs he had done, added more coolant, and repowered the vaporator's cooling unit. This should be his last job of the day. Theoretically. He had fixed all the usual problems with the vaporators and was hoping his Uncle Owen might let him go into Anchorhead. His uncle had been a bit more lenient as of late because Luke had been sulking after his best friend's departure to the Academy.
And even though he missed Biggs, the fact that he was now given more freedom to get to Beggar's canyon (even if his uncle didn't know that was where he usually headed) was almost worth the loneliness. In fact, he'd been spending his new found freedom racing instead of seeing his other friends. When he flew it felt as though he could do anything. He felt powerful in a way that nothing else had ever made him feel. When he was out flying his skyhopper, he was free.
People thought he was crazy to take it through Beggar's canyon even when a swoop, smaller, and only maxing out at speeds around 600 kilometers per hour was dangerous enough. The additional juice he'd added to his skyhopper made it exceed the usual 1200 kilometers per hour. It traveled faster even than the podracers which used to race through the canyons. Of course, the skyhopper could travel far higher than a swoop or podracer as it was an airspeeder, allowing better maneuverability over the canyons if necessary.
It would give him the practice he needed for when he applied for the academy. If he ever got to leave. He sighed as he tapped the hydrospanner in his hand thoughtfully. Really, flying was the only excitement he had here. Nothing exciting happened in his life. Discounting Tusken raids. His eyes darted over the seemingly endless sea of sand and rock toward we he could just barely see the homestead. Even though the grave markers had been taken down due to the fear that Tuskens might scavenge the graves, he still knew where they were and knew the story behind each person lying beneath the desert sand. He'd heard enough stories of his grandmother's death to know the thrill of surviving a raid from the sandpeople was too much of a risk to count that as a thrill.
Still, what he wouldn't give to find more excitement in his life. Biggs had been gone about seven months, and yet it felt like an eternity.
"Shooting stars one day..." Luke murmured to himself, his head lost in the stars he so wished to fly among one day.
A faint sound of power buzzing to life let Luke know that the mechanism had indeed been fixed, now humming back to work with a faint whir.
Sighing, Luke turned his attention back to the vaporator in question. However, something nagging at him made him turn around. His eyes scanned the area around him. Off in the distance he saw a cloud of sand being kicked up from what was unmistakably a speeder. Frowning, not recognizing the vehicle, Luke went to the landspeeder and quickly grabbed his binoculars and watched the approaching speeder. The ship was piloted by a young woman he didn't recognize. There was another woman sitting behind her. Luke saw that the woman was also scanning the area with her binoculars. By the way they were both dressed, they were definitely not native to Tatooine. He also would bet they were both lost. Who in their right mind would bother making a trek out to this ball of dust, rock, and heat? Especially a trip out to the Lars' homestead.
And even though they looked harmless, Luke knew from his own experiences with his female, well, she wasn't really a friend per se, acquaintance, Camie, that just because they didn't look it, they could be dangerous. Luke grinned to himself, remembering what his uncle had once told him: all women were dangerous.
A strange feeling clenched his gut as the smile faded from his face. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling of great foreboding and an almost tangible urge to look around him with the binoculars. Knowing it was always a good idea to go with his gut, Luke scanned the area to the right of the approaching speeder, only to note that there were three sandpeople climbing up slowly along a dune ridge right behind them. With the one woman piloting and the other busy scanning the area only in front of her, Luke knew they weren't going to stand a chance. He tried shouting out to the women to be careful, but they appeared completely ignorant of their plight. Or they just thought he was crazy and was ignoring him. Even just three Tuskens could do a good deal of damage with their long range weapons, not to mention Luke could now see their banthas close by. Judging by the way they began to head towards the banthas, not only would the sandpeople be shooting at the women, once they were done with them, they would head toward him.
"Kreth!" Luke swore before jumping in his landspeeder, grabbing the blaster at hand, hoping he would make it in time. He had one hand still holding the binoculars, noting the Tuskens appeared to be getting excited at his movements, pulling long range rifles from the rucksacks on their banthas. With one hand holding the binoculars and the other holding the blaster, Luke moved his leg up, driving with his knee. It'd been something he'd taught himself how to do when he'd seen another species with legs too long for the speeder using his knees to drive. Of course, it had merely been a game to see if he could do it, but Luke was grateful for the ability now.
Just a little closer...if only he could get a little closer!
The women seemed to have noticed him at last. The driver wore a look of fear - but the fear was aimed at him. He supposed with his blaster raised she thought that he was going to attack her. He cursed as they turned around in apparent fear of him, but it was a move that saved their lives. The Tuskens had aimed for their speeder, but instead of hitting one of the passengers, it dinged off the hull. It startled the driver enough that her steering became quite erratic, swerving every which way, making it hard for the sandpeople to get a good shot. Luke's suped up speeder quickly closed the distance between them. Luke hoped they had a blaster or two on hand.
He was finally within shooting range. He took his blaster and began to aim, firing at the closest Tusken who dropped from his bantha mount. Luke leveled his blaster and aimed at the one closest to the fallen Tusken. He fired, missed, and fired again. He winced as the bantha jerked. He hadn't meant to hurt the animal. But the animal bucked off its mount. Luke ducked as the Tuskens were now firing at him, barely missing having his head shot off. He drove further, praying there weren't more sandpeople over the dune as he blasted the one still in the saddle.
In the time it had taken him to shoot the Tusken down, the other had managed to get in a few shots to his and the strangers' speeder. By the sound of the scream, it had hit one of the women. Cursing again, Luke shot the third, and hopefully last, sandperson. Now almost upon the three fallen Tuskens and their banthas, Luke swooped around, bringing up his binoculars to see if there were any others around. He didn't see any over the top of the ridge and looped back around to the other speeder.
As he'd expected from the scream, one of the women, the driver, had been hit. She looked to be in her early thirties. Her auburn hair was coming out of its loose tie, and her blue eyes were glassy with pain.
"Are you okay?" Luke asked. The woman in the back of the speeder looked almost as shocked as the woman who had been hit. She wore her dirty-blonde hair in an elaborate knot on the top of her head. Luke took a brief glance, noticing she was fairly pretty, though she didn't seem to be the brightest light in the bunch. Though if she wasn't used to having Sandpeople shooting at her, Luke decided to give her a break. She held the binoculars in her hands, frozen in greater shock than the injured woman. Luke grimaced, realizing that she wasn't going to be much help at the moment. Even if she could spot more sandpeople, they needed to move away from the area. The older of the two women definitely needed help.
Idly Luke looked around. In the past, the local hermit Ben Kenobi seemed to appear whenever Luke (or someone Luke was with) was in trouble.
It was something that he had never really pieced together until that moment, but the utter lack of his presence made Luke shake his head at the entire situation. He walked over to the injured woman, noting that she had been hit in the arm. It didn't look too bad. Hopefully it was only a graze. He frowned at the short sleeves. It was clear this woman had had no notion of how to dress properly for Tatooine. While some might assume that dressing in short sleeves would help keep them cool, it would only allow the sun's rays to scorch the exposed skin, and it would definitely not help keep the sand from sticking to a work-up of sweat. The already burnt skin from the sun exposure made the blast wound crack and blister faster.
"Do you have a medpac?" Luke asked, the question directed more toward the uninjured woman. She stared at him blankly. He sighed. "I'm Luke. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help," Luke tried. That seemed to make the other woman come to her senses.
"No, we don't have a medpac. We have a lot of water, but we left our med kit back on our ship."
"I should have something in my speeder," Luke noted, returning quickly to retrieve the pac.
"I'm Mirax Antilles and this is Shell-Mar Tanna," the uninjured woman introduced briefly.
Shell-Mar stared at her arm in shock, her face ashen and clammy. Luke cursed as he realized she had a shallow blaster wound to her shoulder and what appeared a deeper, more serious wound to her left side. Luke's mind went into overdrive, trying to remember the basic med training he had received in school. Nothing seemed to come to him as hid mind blanked. Thankfully his hands were moving even if his mind wasn't quite up to speed at the moment. He tore the clothing away from her side, peeling away the fabric. The blaster wound had burned the fabric into the skin. Hesitating for a moment, not knowing what to do with the more serious wound, Luke quickly grabbed a bacta patch from the medpac and placed it onto the woman's arm injury. The antiseptic should help clean it and the anesthetic should help keep the wound from hurting too much.
"Hold this on her," Luke instructed to Mirax to keep the patch on her companion. She did it with one hand, her other still clutching the binoculars. Luke looked about him. Considering where they were, it wasn't such a bad idea to keep a look out for more Tuskens.
Still, it wouldn't do to have her holding it on there the entire time, especially during a hurried ride back to his home where they could comm for help. He rolled out the white, cloth bandage from the kit and rolled it around the patch to keep it from coming off during the hot ride back.
Luke's attention once again returned to the wound on the woman's side. He was half tempted to use the flexclamps to see if he could pull some of the fibers from inside the wound, but he decided that he didn't know if it would actually do more harm than good and decided to spray some topical antiseptic onto the wound and put another bacta patch on the injury. At closer inspection, Luke sighed, realizing that the wound looked worse because she had banged her hip; it wasn't a blaster wound at all! There was a large bruise forming around the area, and there was indeed a burn, but the burn had come from hitting the heated metal of the inside of the landspeeder's inner consul. The wound had looked worse due to the abrasion and the small amount of blood that the scrap had brought fourth. Luke let out a breath of relief as he realized that the fabric had merely been torn and not infused into the skin. It was merely stuck to the blood. Wiping gently, he used gauze to get rid of the fabric before using a spray bandage from the medpac instead of over killing it with a bacta patch. Luke also administered a stimshot to help with the pain from the blaster wound.
"We'll take her back in my speeder; it's been tinkered with to go faster." The "than your slow speeder" hung on his lips, but he didn't say it. Instead, he gingerly lifted the woman from the speeder. Her arms wrapped surprisingly strong around him. He thought she might go into shock, but now he wasn't so sure. Luke laid her gingerly across the back seat and turned toward Mirax. "Sit in the back with her, and keep an eye out for any more Tusken Raiders."
On the way back to the homestead, Luke commed his uncle, telling him about what had happened. After a brief reproach from his uncle about the rashness of going after three Tuskens on his own for people whom he didn't know, Owen Lars urged his nephew to get the woman there in a hurry and to keep her cool.
His aunt Beru was waiting for them by the door when they arrived. Luke once again explained what happened and introduced Shell-Mar and Mirax.
"Uncle's contacted the neighbors. Apparently a few of the farms were raided early this morning. Thankfully no one else was hurt," Aunt Beru explained as she helped Shell-Mar into the house.
"Yeah, lucky it was just a raiding party," Luke agreed. "But we would have been next. They were definitely headed this way."
"Is there anything I can help with?" Mirax asked anxiously. Luke frowned at her, watching as she still held her binoculars in her hands as though they could protect her from anything else going on.
"No, dear. Just relax, and we'll make sure your friend is okay before we take her to Anchorhead."
"Anchorhead? Isn't that the settlement nearby? We stayed there last night."
"Yes," Beru said. "It has a small medical facility that will be able to help her with her wounds. She seems stable enough. You're very lucky," Aunt Beru said smiling at the woman kindly.
"It's thanks to Luke," Shell-Mar said, speaking for the first time since she had been hit. She looked over at him, smiling at him gratefully. Luke blushed, but felt the pride welling within him. He didn't have long to relish the feeling.
"Luke, your uncle wants you to help tend to the vaporators on the south ridge."
"But I wanted to stay and make sure they were okay!" Luke said, feeling disgruntled. His aunt gave him one of her "looks." He grumbled to himself before heading back out into the heat of the mid-day suns. He stopped by the front door, crossing his arms huffily, dawdling purposefully. His feet scuffed at the ground in annoyance. For once in his life, he felt like a hero, and within minutes he was sent off to do more work.
He couldn't wait to get off this planet! If only he could go to the Academy...
"Luke! Before you go..."
Luke turned around and watched as Mirax stood shyly behind him.
"It's just that, well, we might try and contact our ship to land here. We are going to try and leave sooner rather than later so we can get her treated at an off world facility."
Personally Luke thought that Anchorhead was quite capable of taking care of something like a blaster wound as they'd had more than their unfortunate share of problems. But Luke decided that they probably wanted to leave as soon as possible. He actually wondered why they were there in the first place. Deciding it would be impolite not to chat (and since he was still too restless after the attack from the Tuskens to actually work), he asked.
"Yeah, I don't blame you for getting off this rock, but why did you come here in the first place?"
"We decided to travel to "unique" and "interesting" places across the galaxy. Tatooine was in the "unique" category. It's nothing like we expected."
Luke chuckled. "Yeah, not too much interesting here."
"You sound like you want to leave," Mirax pressed. Feeling his heart flutter, Luke wondered if she was flirting with him because he had saved her life or if because she was actually interested. A pretty girl like her talking to him...
He sighed internally. She'd be leaving soon, never to come back.
"There's not much out here. You can see that. But I guess what makes it harder is that my best friend Biggs recently left for the Academy to become a pilot. I wanted to go with him to join the Academy, but I got left behind on this dust ball. And it's not like I have a great love for the Empire or anything like that, but I really want to become a pilot. Well, an official pilot. I love to fly. I want to be able to travel and see the galaxy and to make a difference. Here, well, here I don't know that I do much good. I mean, I know my uncle needs help with the harvest, so I stay. I feel kind of useless though. It's not like he needs help fending off sandpeople, but he definitely needs hands to help with the vaporators. I wish he'd just get a few more droids, so I could be a pilot." He and Biggs had planned for years that they were supposed to become shooting stars one day.
He frowned, thinking of another friend, Tanks. All three of them had hoped to one day become pilots via the Academy, but that dream was already not possible. Tanks hadn't been able to make it as a pilot and had decided to become a stormtrooper instead. It was a waste. If Luke didn't make it as a pilot...well, maybe he could make it as a tech. He didn't fancy becoming a stormtrooper. Though he was sure if his uncle had his way he'd rather Luke become a tech than a pilot.
Sometimes he wondered if his uncle's past made him more agitated about flying. Owen's uncle, Luke's great Uncle Edern, actually died in a landspeeder accident when he was only fourteen. But Luke was sure he was a far better pilot than that! He could even fly a speeder with his knees. He grinned to himself at that thought.
"You want to be a pilot, but isn't that dangerous?" Mirax asked. "You'd be risking your life if you became a pilot in the Empire."
"I'm not afraid to risk my life, even if it's for the Empire. I have to fly. You see, my father was a navigator on a spice freighter. He died before I was born, and I feel like every time I fly that I'm somehow closer to him in the stars. And flying isn't really that dangerous if you know what you're doing. I'm the best pilot in this area, especially now that Biggs is gone. He was the only one who could really give me a run for my money."
"And I guess you're pretty fearless if you can take on three Tusken Raiders!" Mirax said, prompting him.
Luke shook his head. "That's life on Tatooine. There are a lot of sandpeople out here. You have to be able to protect yourself."
"So...getting attacked like that, do...do a lot of people die?"
"Many people have been killed by the sandpeople," Luke said sadly. His eyes darted over to where he knew five graves lay, even though he also knew the markers had long been taken down. His great grandparents Lef and Gredda Lars, his great uncle Edern Lars, his grandfather Cliegg Lars and his grandmother, Shmi Skywalker Lars all lay buried beneath the earth.
He explained where their bodies lay buried and gestured toward the family graveyard in emphasis. He never understood why the gravestones were taken down, though his uncle Owen had said something along the lines of it being better for their protection from sandpeople and jawas. "My grandmother was kidnapped and held by the Tuskens. As far as we know, she lasted over a month, slowly tortured before she died." Luke shook his head. It was a story that had always felt very dark, disturbing to him. He'd heard about plenty of stories of people being killed and even tortured by Tuskens. Perhaps because this had happened to his grandmother it hit closer to home, but he got chills of such darkness every time he thought about what happened. "My grandfather, uncle, and about thirty others went out to rescue her. Most everyone died before they could save her. My uncle and grandfather were two of four who came back alive. My grandfather was pretty badly wounded, and he ended up dying several months afterward."
"My best friend, Biggs – well, there was this girl he used to like. Her name was Kandji. They killed her too. Biggs always carries a holo of her. It's rare that someone is saved when a rescue party goes out, but how can you just sit and wait, knowing your loved ones could still be alive?"
Luke's eyes darted out over the dune sea. Not for the first time he wondered if his father had been killed by Tuskens. His uncle never talked about what happened to him. The fact that Luke didn't know how his father died had always haunted him. It was as though until he heard the story he would never accept his father's death. He couldn't explain why he felt as though his father was still with him, waiting for Luke to rescue him. Luke sometimes imagined his father had gone out to take on an entire camp of Tuskens and that there was no grave because they had never found his body. The few times he'd heard his uncle or aunt mention his father had been in regards to his recklessness. Sometimes Luke fancied that his father had done something rash – but of course brave – which had resulted in his death. He liked to think that it might be the reason his uncle seemed so mad about what happened to his father. Like maybe if he hadn't been so rash then he wouldn't have died. That was why Luke tended to think of his father as a hero. Rash and reckless for sure, but someone who had risked his own life to save someone else. After all, it wasn't like someone who went into the middle of a Tusken camp by himself would come out alive.
For a moment, he forgot that Mirax was still there. He blushed, realizing he had been daydreaming about his heroic father again. Once again he saw her using her binoculars to scan the area, wondering at her paranoia but decided not to question it. With what had happened to her today and with the horror stories of what the sandpeople were capable of, he supposed that her paranoia wasn't really all that unfounded.
"How old are you Luke?" Mirax asked.
"Well, you just seem so mature," she smiled at him sweetly. Luke felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment at her statement. And not because it had flattered him. No one had ever called him mature before. It was kind of harsh to realize no one else thought of him as mature.
"I'm eighteen," Luke said hesitantly. He didn't know why, but he suddenly had a bad feeling about the conversation. Something he couldn't quite place, as though he had already said too much.
"Eighteen by Tatooine years or eighteen by galactic standard years?"
"Galactic standard years. Sometimes it can get a bit confusing because the days differ each year. There are only 23 hours a day on Tatooine not like Courscant's 24, and it only takes 304 days for Tatooine's rotation versus Courscant's 368. But I'm lucky I don't really have to calculate all of that. I was actually born a few days after Empire Day. Though if we were counting by Tatooine years I'm already twenty-three," Luke said. Twenty-three sounded so much better than eighteen. He couldn't wait until he was twenty-three galactic years. He hoped his life would have some more excitement in it by then.
"Wait – you were born on Empire Day eighteen years ago? As in, the very day the Empire was founded?"
"No, no. I wasn't born on Empire Day. I was born three days after it," Luke said thoughtfully. The "Empire" seemed so very far away, it was kind of hard at times to think about how it might influence everyone else in the rest of the galaxy. The only useful thing about Empire Day was it helped him remember when his birthday was according to galactic standard time.
Luke sighed. For some reason he couldn't explain, he really felt like he'd said too much.
"I have to keep working on the vaporators," Luke sighed. Really, he shouldn't keep delaying it. He really was hoping to get a chance to fly. With all that talk he'd done about it, it was making him almost physically ache to be in the air.
By the time Luke was done fixing the vaporators, he was disappointed to find that Mirax and Shell-Mar were already gone. He'd really hoped he'd be able to at least see their starship. Apparently, however, his uncle had driven them both into Anchorhead after all. Luke had hoped that his uncle would have let them stay, but it did make sense for them to wait there just in case. Having grown up on Tatooine, Luke knew that it wasn't uncommon for flashy starships to have some pretty serious issues dealing with all the sand kicked up in the atmosphere. With the extra activity from the sandpeople, it was best not to direct their attention to their moisture farm; the arrival of a ship would no doubt attract Tuskens. And to make things worse, Luke hadn't even gotten to do what he had wanted that evening. There was no way he would be able to travel out after dark with all the sandpeople activity during the day. Not that he was ever allowed anyway.
Luke kicked at the sand, wishing for the umpteenth time there was something more exciting in his life. He missed Biggs. He wondered if his friend was out soaring through the skies, doing something with his life.
Luke was not the only one on Tatooine wishing the planet had a bit more excitement to it.
Being a desert planet, it was a bit of an obvious assumption that the climate would be hot and dry on Tatooine. As it was located in the Outer Rims, off worlders would assume it to be lacking in the latest technologies with sparse, hardened residents.
All of these things holovid reporter Shell-Mar Tanna had expected when traveling to the desert planet. She'd packed light clothing which showed off her arms to help cool her down. What she hadn't expected was that exposing her arms would mean the twin suns would beat down upon her, scorching her sensitive skin even more, not to mention that the endless swirl of sand and grit clung to her sweaty body. And while she had expected to be using sonic showers, she felt that they did little to truly rid her of that gritty feel.
Her wound was healing nicely, all things considered, and she really hadn't needed to get off planet. It was clear that the wound wasn't anything serious since that farm boy had saved them from the Tuskens. She really hoped that Mirax had gotten as much decent footage from her holocam as the girl had stated. Shell-Mar had over-ridden Mirax's urges to stay longer to gather more information. Information on what Shell-Mar wondered? However, the girl claimed she had a few theories that they could work with. Shell-Mar really didn't believe the girl had gotten much footage that they could use. The attack by the Tuskens was just the icing on the cake of a horrible experience after almost having their heads blasted away at a cantina in Mos Eisely. Both she and Mirax had agreed a story like that wasn't worth their lives.
Mirax was adamant that she had found something important, something that made her feel this whole adventure had been worth it. Mirax was known to exaggerate how good the footage was at times, but Shell-Mar had worked with her long enough to know that even if there wasn't much to work with, Mirax could make it seem like something far more intriguing.
It was both a blessing and a problem.
Shell-Mar's boss had reassigned them when he'd found out that their last holovid documentary had been a bit more on the theatrical side rather than on actual documenting work. But honestly, who cared about the natural habitat of the Wakrina Bird on the moon of Hureelish? And who cared if she may have put in a bit of fabrication that the local government was destroying the habitat to make the documentary a bit more interesting? Seriously. The senator shouldn't have implied he'd like to kill off the species merely because they were irritating! A little cut here of the recordings, add a few lines there, and it seemed as if he was planning to destroy their natural home.
It was amazing how easy it was to tweak holovid feed to make people look like they were saying things they hadn't really said.
She'd done those dumb birds a favor. Even if they hadn't been in any danger at the time, the local government had been so incensed by her slander (though she thought it more artistic license) to make it seem like they were trying to hurt the birds, they had passed laws making it impossible to build within two kilometers of a nesting group of Wakrina birds.
And the response from viewers! Shell-Mar grinned, her dry lips cracking in the heat, but the grin didn't diminish as she thought about all the people who had stepped up to aid her for her "documentary." She loved giving the viewers what they wanted.
Unfortunately they had pissed off the wrong people. Their documentary had been labeled as "anti-Impearlist" due to the fact that they showed a senator and a favored system of the Emperor's in a bad light. Her next assignment found her out in the outer-rims to find something that showed good Imperial citizens at work even out of the "far reaches" from the Empire. In other words, something that was politically correct and boring.
Now, Tatooine had seemed more interesting at first glance. It was controlled by the Hutts, so surely some good old gang stories would make a good documentary. Shell-Mar had hoped for an angle where she could show how they weren't as strongly tied to the Empire as everyone thought, and perhaps that would be a good way to make a difference. Not to mention places like Mos Espa and Mos Eisely were known to harbor some of the more interesting characters of the outer rim territories.
They'd landed on Tatooine's capital Bestine, and Mirax, ever confident to find something that they were supposed to be reporting on rather than what Shell-Mar felt they should report on, had immediately told her to head to Fort Tusken or Anchorhead to look into the historical reasons behind why Tatooine was first cultivated. That way they could look into the daily lives of moisture farmers who were still serving the Empire. It was something that was sure to be labeled as innocent enough, and might be a good place to start with her latest documentary assignment. But of course, Shell-Mar had dismissed this idea. She hadn't been opposed to shooting footage of the Storm Squadron TIE Fighters in the city of Bestine or some of the artwork at the only museum on planet, but she didn't want to deal with moisture farmers.
She thought reporting on something exciting would be a good way to boost her career.
However, after walking through the streets of Mos Eisley's Old Quarter sector she had quickly come to the conclusion that while there was some things she could report on, it was not worth their lives to record any of it. If she were alone, Shell-Mar wouldn't have minded, but she felt a sense of responsibility to protect Mirax. There was little else of interest that had caught her attention. Just yesterday morning she had decided to give it up for lost. She and Mirax could go out into the area where the moisture farmers were, take some sweeping holovids of how poor the area was, maybe build up some sympathy to help get some of these people off world or at least to give them some aid from the Empire and be done with it.
They'd talked to about five different farmers and stayed in Anchorhead the previous night. When they woke up the next morning, they'd heard about a few raids by what the locals called both sandpeople and Tusken Raiders. At the time, she had planned merely to go out and get some shots of the damage they had done. They hadn't thought they would be in any danger. Thank goodness for that happy trigger farm boy. His aunt had been very kind, even when
Mirax had been grilling her for any information about Luke. Shell-Mar idly wondered if the girl had developed a slight crush on the boy with all the questions she'd been asking. Even when they'd arrived at Anchorhead, the girl hadn't let up. She kept grilling the locals there for more information about Luke. Poor thing. She didn't care for how they didn't even refer to him as Luke but rather "Wormie."
There was something refreshing about the boy, and she couldn't quite place why his face seemed familiar. A distant memory made her thoughts drift to when she was a child, watching news reports about the Clone Wars. She was sure someone of great importance during that time reminded her of Luke.
"Shelly," Mirax said, excitedly. Shell-Mar smiled at the nickname. She'd hated it when she was younger, but the sincerity behind Mirax's use of the endearment always warmed her heart.
"Find something?" Shell-Mar asked mildly. Unless they were going to report on her getting shot and the brief but daring rescue from Luke then they were out of luck. It would make a good story, but a short one. Too short. But the excitement in Mirax's eyes made Shell-Mar think she might just have something.
"Something Luke said – I cross checked a few things and found something big! I don't think that kid's just some nobody. You have to see this report I have on his parentage! I have the perfect story! This is gonna be so big!"
Next Chapter: The Son Of…
Hello, Star Wars fans! It's been a while. I haven't uploaded a new Star Wars fic in almost six years. I have recently reformatted and did a spot check on my old Star Wars fic, Revealed Identities, but as I wrote it so long ago, please note the writing quality is pretty mediocre.
Just as an fyi, I'm going to be using a lot of characters that are in the original trilogy and some from the Expanded Universe, though a few will be original characters. Mostly I am trying to stick with characters who we know and love.
Hope you liked the first chapter so far! ~ Jelp