Edited for minor grammatical errors 3/27/2019, but the content has not been changed. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Where any other boy would have crashed into Biggs Darklighter, Luke Skywalker stopped last second. Biggs didn't even blink an eye. He knew Luke would stop; Luke always stopped.

Luke was small for his age, looking more a boy of nine than ten. Things were beginning to change for his friends, but Luke looked the same. He still had a glimmering innocence in his deep blue eyes. His blond hair, bleached lighter by Tatooine's dual suns, clung to a soft, round face. Like most boys his age Luke liked to think he wasn't a kid anymore, but his body betrayed him. If Luke Skywalker was not still a child, then Tatooine was colder than Hoth.

"I thought you were gonna be a bug on my windshield," Luke grinned as he hopped from the T-16 he'd been flying. "I almost couldn't stop."

Biggs shrugged, a wide smirk across his lips. "Are you kidding me! You're too young to fly and could still make the Suicide Run!"

Luke smiled at his friend's praise. "I'm just glad Uncle Owen let me come out in the first place. You won't believe what happened last night. Old Ben Kenobi showed up!"

Biggs's eyes widened, "Wizard. I didn't think he even left the Jundland Wastes. What was he doing at your place?"

Biggs's response surprised Luke. Sure the hermit wasn't around a lot, but he visited often enough. Why had Biggs never seen him? "Does he need a reason? He's nutty!. He was rambling about danger and said we shouldn't go into Anchorhead for a while. Aunt Beru almost listened and didn't let me come, but Uncle Owen said Ben had never been right before."

Biggs looked even more shocked at that. The boy's mouth hung agape until he finally spoke, "Before? Luke I never knew Ben Kenobi came to your house to deliver dire warnings. Does this happen often?"

"No… He really doesn't do that to everyone?" Biggs shook his head in response to Luke's question. "Anyway he doesn't come around much anymore anyway. I hadn't seen him since my last birthday. He used to come more, but I think he and Uncle Owen got in a fight, somthin' 'bout getting me an apprenticeship. I didn't hear much. He may be nuts, but Ben always knows when you're listening."

Biggs got a little grin on his face. "I''ve got it! Ben Kenobi is secretly a Jedi and wants you to train under him!"

Luke gently hit his friend, but laughed at the ridiculous thought. Jedi were just legends, and even if they weren't, old, wacky, Ben Kenobi wasn't one.

"Biggs!" Both boys looked up as Mr. Darklighter called to them. "I'm sorry Luke, but Biggs and I must get home. You should too. I saw some stormtroopers hanging about."

Stormtroopers? That was a scary thought. "I'll just get my chores done and go right home. Bye Biggs!"

Biggs waved as he left, and Luke set about picking up the things he'd been sent there to buy.

Luke was on his way back to his T-16 when he saw the crowd. A voice warned Luke to run away, but his curiosity persisted. Carefully he crept up towards them, then, since he couldn't hear, Luke snuck his way to the center.

The man speaking was young, with the pale skin of an offworlder. Beside him stood two others of a species Luke didn't know. All three had something in common though-patches with the rebel symbol. Luke's heart pounded, and he looked around for a place to escape. But the crowd had pressed in upon him, and there was no way out. Luke gulped. He was stuck amid the crown of agitators, of rebels.

"The Emperor is a tyrant!" the man howled. " And Darth Vader is his lapdog! He slaughters whole villages- men, women, even infants too young to lift their heads. And I say no more! We must band together! We must resist! Only then…"

He was cut off by the terrifying sound of a blaster. On the edge of the crowd, people screamed as a half-dozen stormtroopers surrounded them. Panic flashed through Luke. He was going to die! He was going to get shot by a stormtrooper and die! Oh how Luke wished he'd listened to Ben Kenobi's warning! Then he wouldn't be in such a mess.

"Remain where you are and submit to detention," an officer called out. "I repeat, stand still."

The Rebels didn't obey. The speaker pulled out his own blaster and promptly began shooting the stormtroopers. The troopers immediately short back, unconcerned by the crowd into which they fired. People ran panicked, desperate to escape the crossfire, and trampling each other as they went. They seemed to press upon Luke. He was too small, too hard to see. He felt the crushing heat of bodies forcing their way around him. The sickening smell of sweat and blood overwhelmed his senses. Everywhere he turned, there were just more people trying to escape, or worse, dying as a blast seared their skin.

Luke didn't know what to do. His heart pounded, his palms sweat. All around him, those who tried to run were mowed down by the troopers, but those who attempted to 'submit to detention' were getting trampled. One way or another Luke was going to die; he knew it.

The boy couldn't think, and in the end that was what saved him. Sheer instinct told him to head the opposite way of the swarm, towards the platform on which the rebel speaker lay dead. When he got there, Luke stared horrified at the corpse, but only for a second. His fear drove him to move, climbing beneath the impromptu stage as a blast shot right past his shoulder. Beneath the stage, it was cool and dark, but the noise of the screaming crowd remained. Luke jammed his fingers into his ears, trying to block it out, make it go away. He had no idea what else to do, and so Luke just hid, praying his Aunt and Uncle would ground him for getting into such a mess. At least then he'd be home. At least then he'd be alive.

Finally, the noise seemed to die down. After what felt like hours to Luke (but was only a few minutes), he pulled his hands from his ears, and listened carefully for any signs of movement. There was nothing but the whistling of the wind, so Luke crawled from his hiding place. Once he did, Luke realized he wasn't as alone as he thought. Stormtroopers were either binding prisoners, or picking through the bodies of the dead. The sight terrified Luke, and he fled the other direction.

"Hey!" One of the stormtroopers called out, pointing his blaster but, thankfully, not shooting. "Catch that kid!"

Luke's heart seized, but he tried to run faster. It did him no good. Two large hands suddenly grabbed him, holding him tight. The boy broke into hysterical tears. Never in his life had Luke been so scared and alone. All he wanted to do was return home, feel the warmth of Aunt Beru's embrace. But his aunt was far away, and Luke couldn't get to her. He was trapped, trapped in the grip of a stormtrooper and surrounded by dead bodies and rebels. Luke, young as he was, knew he'd probably never see home again.

The trooper holding him twisted Luke's arms painfully, clamping binders around his wrists. Then he was unceremoniously lifted and tossed into a speeder with the captured rebels. They looked on Luke with pity, but through his wet eyes Luke saw only monsters. Luke didn't even notice his binders were so large he could have easily slipped out of them and escaped. He was too frightened, too miserable. As a trooper slammed shut the speeder doors, all Luke knew was that all he wanted was to go home- and he probably never would again.