"I've always found the methods you recommend rather quaint, Vader."

"They are efficient," the Dark Lord argued softly. "In the interest of

accelerating the procedure, however, I am open to your suggestions."

Tarkin looked thoughtful. "Such stubbornness can often be detoured by

applying threats to something other than the one involved."

"What do you mean?"

"Only that I think is time we demonstrated the full power of this station. We

may do so in a fashion doubly useful." He instructed the attentive Motti, "Tell your

programmers to set course for the Alderaan system."

Kenobi's pride did not prevent him from wrapping an old scarf over nose and

mouth to filter out a portion of the bonfire's drifting putrid odor. Though possessed

of olfactory sensory apparatus, Artoo Detoo and Threepio had no need of such a

screen. Even Threepio, who was equipped to discriminate among aromatic

aesthetics, could be artificially selective when he so desired.

Working together, the two 'droids helped Kenobi throw the last of the bodies

onto the blazing pyre, then stood back and watched the dead continue to burn. Not

that the desert scavengers wouldn't have been equally efficient in picking the burned-

out sandcrawler clean of flesh, but Kenobi retained values most modern men would

have deemed archaic. He would consign no one to the bone-gnawers and gravel-

maggots, not even a filthy jawa.

At a rising thrumming Kenobi turned from the residue of the noisome business to

see the landspeeder approaching, now traveling at a sensible pace, far different from

when it had left. It slowed and hovered nearby, but showed no signs of life.

Gesturing for the two robots to follow, Ben started toward the waiting craft.

The canopy flipped open and up to reveal Luke sitting motionless in the pilot's seat.

He didn't look up at Kenobi's inquiring glance. That in itself was enough to tell the

old man what had happened.

"I share your sorrow, Luke," he finally ventured softly. "There was nothing you

could have done. Had you been there, you'd be dead now, too, and the 'droids

would be in the hands of the Imperials. Not even the force-"

"Damn your force!" Luke snarled with sudden violence. Now he turned and

glared at Kenobi. There was a set to his jaw that belonged on a much older face.

"I'll take you to the spaceport at Mos Eisley, Ben. I want to go with you-to

Alderaan. There's nothing left for me here now." His eyes turned to look out

across the desert, to focus on something beyond sand and rock and canyon walls. "I

want to learn to be like a Jedi, like my father. I want..." He paused, the words

backing up like a logjam in his throat.

Kenobi slid into the cockpit, put a hand gently on the youth's shoulder, then went

forward to make room for the two robots. "I'll do my best to see that you get what

you want, Luke. For now, let's go to Mos Eisley."

Luke nodded and closed the canopy. The landspeeder moved away to the

southeast, leaving behind the still-smoldering sandcrawler, the jawa funeral pyre, and

the only life Luke had ever known.
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