Chapter17

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He knew he shouldn't be doing this, sneaking around and following his uncle deep into the woods like some stalker. But Luke Skywalker shouldn't be leaving camp in the middle of the night either, still fully dressed in his Jedi Master robes, and most importantly, armed with both a lightsaber and a blaster.

Using Force Stealth and his training to avoid detection, Ben kept a keen eye out for a flash of white robes before cautiously trailing some distance behind his uncle, taking great pains to make as little noise as possible. Luke had been acting strange ever since they set foot on this planet. Come to think of it, he had been acting strange even before, ever since he spoke with a few of the Jedi Knights. A name was mentioned once or twice though Ben, for the life of him, couldn't remember it. Whatever it was, it had certainly turned the usually mild-mannered Jedi Master sour, to the point that his relationship with his uncle had suffered. Luke had been constantly in deep thought as of late, and almost always quick to anger. He had even given all of his acolytes a stern talking for merely uttering Darth Vader's name and forbade any more discussion about the Sith Lord.

The discussion had continued on anyway, this time in secret, and as Ben moved to the hide behind the next tree, his mind wandered off to the last time he and his fellow Jedi Knight initiates sat around the fire, sharing morbid tales of their pasts, all because of Darth Vader.

Ben had kept silent all throughout the conversation. It wasn't as though he didn't have his own story to tell. In fact, his mother, Senator Leia Organa was tortured for hours by Vader himself until she writhed on the floor, screaming for mercy that never came. His father was also tortured by Vader, then later frozen in carbonite and handed over to the loathsome Jabba the Hutt, who turned Han Solo into a wall ornament. Then there was his uncle, Luke Skywalker, who lost his right hand during a duel with Vader in Cloud City. But those were not his own memories, or his own stories to tell, especially not to people he still considered strangers, though his stance against them did soften when he heard their tales. Vader had ruined so many lives...

Ben shook away from his thoughts and cursed inwardly. He was losing track of his uncle!

Eyes straining into the woods, with only the moonlight to guide him, he managed to spot Luke's billowing cloak and started following again, crouching every few meters or so to ensure he wouldn't be found.

The deeper he went into the woods, the more Ben began to think this wasn't the brightest ideas he had acted upon. What the kriff had he been thinking, stalking his uncle into the forest like this? It wasn't as though Luke couldn't take care of himself. If his uncle ever found him...

Ben clenched his fists and hurried to crouch behind another bush. No. He wasn't going to think about that now. He'd gone too far to turn back. Besides, he had a gut feeling that wherever Luke was going, he was going to need all the help he could get.

It didn't take long for Ben's instinct to prove correct, as he saw Luke about to enter a large camp of thirty or so menacing looking individuals of various species, all of whom wore neutral-colored tunics with foreign patterns over their black garments. They stood in a circle around a burning pyre, hands held up in the air, unintelligible voices droning into the night in what seemed to be some kind of ritual. Together with them were five smaller beings—children, Ben realized in shock—also wearing the same kind of clothing and speaking the same phrases, which had now taken on a more menacing tone.

Ben moved in closer and craned his neck from behind a tree, squinting through the camp's firelight. He'd seen those garments before. But where?

Then, he saw his uncle step into the camp, and the voices instantly fell silent as all eyes turned towards the Jedi Master.

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