The Empire's Fall (Pt.1)

Chapter Three: I Want To Be A Jedi

Little Artoo stands at the edge of a large sand pit and begins to chatter away in electronic whistles and beeps. Luke, Ben, Ila, and I stand over a very dented and tangled Threepio lying half buried in the sand. One of his arms has broken off. I try to revive the inert robot by shaking him and then I flip a hidden switch on his back several times until finally the droid's systems turn on.

"Where am I? I must have taken a bad step..."

"Can you stand? We've got to get out of here before the Sandpeople return," Luke asks in a panic.

"I don't think I can make it. You go on, Master Luke, Mistress Leeda. There's no sense in you risking yourselves on my account. I'm done for."

Artoo makes a beeping sound.

"No, you're not. What kind of talk is that?" I ask.

Luke and Ben help the battered droid to his feet. Little Artoo watches from the top of the pit. Ben and Ila both glance around suspiciously. They stand up and sniff the air.

"Quickly, children, they're on the move," Ila says, beckoning us with her hand, and hurrying away.

Ben and Ila's small hovel is cluttered with desert junk but still manages to radiate an air of time-worn comfort and security. Luke and I are in one corner repairing Threepio's arm, while old Ila and Ben sit thinking.

"No, our father didn't fight in the war," I say, not quite believing that what Ila had said was true. "He was a navigator on a spice freighter."

"That's what your uncle told you. He didn't hold with your father's ideals. Thought he should have stayed here and not gotten involved."

"You fought in the Clone Wars?" Luke and I both ask in amazement.

"Yes, we were once Jedi Knights, the same as your father."

"I wish I'd known him," I say wistfully as I help Luke with Threepio's arm.

"He was the best star-pilot in the galaxy, and a cunning warrior. We understand you've both become quite good pilots yourselves. And he was a good friend. Which reminds me..."

Ila gets up and Ben follows, then they go to a chest where they both rummage around for a bit. As Luke and I finish repairing Threepio and Luke starts to fit the restraining bolt back on, Threepio looks at him nervously. Luke clearly thinks about the bolt for a moment then he puts it on the table. Ila and Ben shuffle up and present both of us with short handles with several electronic gadgets attached to them.

"We have something here for you. Your father wanted you both to have these when you were old enough, but your uncle wouldn't allow it. He feared you might follow old Ileema and Obi-Wan on some damned-fool idealistic crusade like your father did."

"Sir, ma'am, if you'll not be needing me, I'll close down for a while."

"Sure, go ahead," we say together. My voice is distant, and so is Luke's, he, as I am, is clearly interested in the handles.

Ben hands Luke that handle he is holding, and Ila hands me the one she's holding.

"What are these?" I ask, well Luke and I both ask together.

"Two of your father's lightsabers. A lightsaber is the weapon of a Jedi Knight. It's not as clumsy or as random as a blaster," Ila says, while watching both me and my brother closely.

I push a button on the handle. A long, blue beam shoots out about four feet and flickers there. My eyes grow wide with shock.

"An elegant weapon for a more civilized age. For over a thousand generations the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times, before the Empire," Ben says sorrowfully as he and Ila both sit down.