1st place: Star Wars Fanfiction Awards
Luke Skywalker is turning 8 in just a few days on Empire Day. Unfortunately, the Empire has ordered a galaxy-wide census on Empire Day. Instead of heading to the pod races, like his Uncle Owen had promised him...
Vader stopped his tracks and turned to Luke. "The Wookiees are not slaves. They are convicts. They incited Rebellion against the Emperor and have been incarcerated. They are earning their keep, as it is very costly to feed a Wookiee."
"I don't think it's any different than slavery down here."
The Sith Lord stiffened. "The Wookiees are housed and fed and even earn credits, which they will be able to withdraw after their sentences. The slaves here have only what their masters give them, which isn't always much."
Luke stared back at the man, stubbornly. Unconvinced, he thrust his lower lip out and crossed his arms.
"I think it's time for a little education, Luke. Life on Tatooine is rough for everyone, but it's miserable for a slave. Come with me." Vader turned on his heel and headed to his boyhood home in the Mos Espa slave quarters.
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When they reached the run-down quarters, Vader shuddered. Sandstorms had blasted the white paint off the stucco. Raw sewage ran through the middle of the streets creating a stench and miasma. Little boys and girls who were playing some game in a corner ran away at the sight of the dark figure.
"It is worse than I remember. How could the Emperor let Tatooine go on for so long like this? My visit is long overdue."
A squad of stormtroopers jogged into the village, the captain deploying them to the different sections.
Vader turned to the leader. "Captain."
The stormtrooper leader double-stepped to his commanding officer. "Lord Vader." He saluted with his white-armored hand.
"I am displeased with the conditions of these quarters. I want a refugee camp set up fifty kilometers away. Feed them. Water them. And then we will blast this vermin-infested slum into oblivion from space."
"Yes, my lord." The captain ran off to give his orders.
"When were you here last, Lord Vader?" Luke asked when his father's form stiffened in anger.
"When I was a boy . . . I lived here." Vader stroked his son's head. "I meant to free all the slaves years ago, but I became . . . distracted. I wonder how many have died because I was too busy."
Luke grabbed his father's right hand, his father's gigantic hand swallowing Luke's tiny hand. "At least you've saved them now—that little girl, that mother." He pointed to the residents as they were evacuated. "Because of you, they now have hope."
Vader licked the tear that made it to his lips under the mask. It tasted salty and yet metallic. When was the last time I cried over someone else's misery?
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Did you know . . .
● Challu was Watto's slave. Watto was having a really bad day.
● Vader has accomplished two things he meant to finish years ago—one dark, one light. The slaughter of the Tusken Raiders was of the dark, but freeing the slaves was his first step into the light.
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