She's a Rebel [Star Wars | Luke Skywalker] *EDITING*

Old Ben

I wake up to a the dimly lit room that is my living quarters. I sleepily sit up, rubbing my tired eyes. I didn't get too much sleep, and I can tell that the suns have only just risen.

I push myself up out of bed and pick up my clothes from yesterday. But I realise they're dirty, bloody and smell disgusting, so I toss them aside and open up the floor compartment. I also realise I'm probably going to see Obi-Wan again today, and I begin to look for my old Jedi robe, tunic and trousers that I wore during my training - the training that was never completed by him.

I manage to find my robe, however, not the tunic or trousers, much to my disappointment. I look for some other clothes and find a simple tan blouse and some tan combat trousers from my days working as an Imperial Officer at Mos Eisley, my first ever recruitment task. It was my job to look for smugglers, but of course, being an undercover Rebel, I told them where to go to escape prosecution. 

I go over to the small sink, and wash my face. However, this ruins the bandage Luke put on my wound, so I have to pull it off, squinting as I do so. I look at the long, thin wound that runs from my jaw up to my forehead, slicing right through my left eyebrow. It's surely going to scar, but I'm lucky I wasn't blinded by it. I then frown at the bandage in my hand, and think about the farm boy that put it there. The idea of heading back to his homestead to ask for his help in finding Artoo lingers in my head for a moment, but then I crumple the bandage and toss it into the bin under the sink, refusing to get involved with him. 

I dry my face and get changed quickly, and make the mistake of jerking my injured shoulder too fast, and collapse back onto the floor, hissing in pain. I press my hand to the wound, attempting pathetically to stop the pain, and keep it there for a few moments before continuing. I grab my helmet and goggles, and strap my belt around my waist before heading out into the spaceport.

I pull my helmet and goggles onto my head, and begin to approach Dex's garage, running hastily in order to find Artoo before the Jawas or Sand People do. However, I'm suddenly reminded of Owen's words yesterday; he told Luke that Obi-Wan died around the same time as Luke's father. My run slows to a disheartened walk.

What if he is dead? I haven't felt his presence at all since I've arrived here, so what if he is? There's no reason why he wouldn't be. A whole number of things could have happened to him. He could've been found by the Empire and killed, or some Sand People could've kidnapped him and tortured him, killing him in their vicious bloodrite ritual, or he could have simply died of old age.

I shake my head, attempting to rid the thought from my mind, and march confidently towards Dex's garage. I go to knock on the garage door, but it begins to lift, and Dex's face appears from behind the door.

"Mornin' Nat," he says, smiling and running a hand through his shaggy black hair, his hazel eyes tired. 

"You're up early," I comment, raising my eyebrows at him. "Did you get any sleep at all?" 

"Nope! But, good news! I managed to fix it!" he tells me triumphantly. 

"Really?!" I say out of disbelief. I hug him tightly, feeling a massive weight being lifted from my shoulders. "Thank you!"

I come away from him and jump into the speeder, pulling down my goggles. "But I'm sorry, I've really got to go. The droid containing the stolen plans has decided to go AWOL."

"But I've hardly seen you," he says as I start up the speeder, sounding despondent, and I suddenly feel bad.

"I'll be back later," I tell him as I manoeuvre out of the garage. "Go and have a nap, and when I come back we'll go and get that drink I promised you yesterday."