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:[The Night]:
Title: The Night
Author: Xehra Bethe xehrabethe@xmail.com
Rating: PG (violence)
Setting: About 10 years pre-ANH
Summary: Beru is woken by thieves in the night.
Archive: Feel free
Feedback: Please! Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to George, I just like to play with them. I
receive no money from this story.
Thanks: To Krya and Jane for the beta.
~~~~~~~~
The Night
~~~~~~~~
They came in the night. Beru had been expecting them. Not that particular
night, of course, but she had known that this moment would come. A choice would
have to be made, and she never doubted that she would make the right one. To
take a life, or lose her boy, those were her options. She knew which one she
would take, and she knew which her husband would take too. Tonight, though, he
was not here.
There were no more sounds after the muffled cough that had woken her. She knew,
however, that they were still out there. Watching. Waiting. Evil in their
hearts and death on their mind. Silently, she slid out of the half-empty bed
she shared with Owen and reached underneath for the rifle she always kept hidden
there. The power cell was retrieved from her bottom vanity drawer then quickly
and expertly loaded. Beru flattened herself against the wall next to her window
and chanced a quick glance outside. Nothing was visible in the shadows of their
sunken courtyard.
She shivered, not from apprehension or fear, but from the cold. No matter how
long she had lived on this Force-forsaken desert planet, she would never get
used to the extremes of temperature. Now, however, she realized the icy night
air would perhaps enable her to see the intruders' breath smoking. She smiled
to herself, a small upturning at the corners of her mouth that created new lines
but didn't reach her eyes.
She tried to still her breathing; to her it sounded loud and heavy. The desert
night was unnaturally silent. This alone told her that there were intruders
outside as normally the rasping and buzzing of insects filled the darkness.
Grasping her rifle tightly, Beru moved on silent feet from her room along the
hall. She came to Luke's and opened it slowly. Soft moonlight from the window
fell across his sleeping form, illuminating the ten-year-old's features. His
aunt watched him for a moment in the darkness, then quietly shut and locked the
door. He was safe for now.
She continued through the homestead, checking rooms and closing and locking
doors after her. It was a sweeping technique that Ben had taught her, probably
unnecessary in the circumstances since she was fairly sure the men were still
outside, but it reassured her. As she approached the door to the courtyard,
Beru's thoughts went back two decades. It was funny the way old techniques came
back to one, even if they had not been used in years. At the time, she had
complained at length throughout her military training. Now she was thankful for
the Clone Wars. At least now she could protect Luke, probably better than Owen
could. And the men outside didn't know that. Once again, she allowed herself a
smile. An observer would have recognised the predatory curving of the lips and
shivered. But there was no one to see, and Beru crouched alone in the darkness
of her sitting room.
Her straining ears were soon rewarded with shuffling sounds from outside; booted
feet scuffing sand. Off-Worlders, then. No desert-person would make such
noise. They knew which door led to the sleeping quarters though, and that
worried her. It meant someone knew the layout of their holding, and another
relocation would be necessary. Owen would not be pleased. She tried to think
who would betray them, who would put them at risk from thieves and bandits like
this. A resentful neighbour? That suspicious droid repairman from last week?
Or had Owen's careless boasting about his business trip to Anchorhead made his
week-long absence general knowledge? Thrusting away her annoyance, Beru glanced
down to double-check the power cell on her rifle then raised it to her shoulder.
Sighting down its long barrel, she fought against the unexpected shake in her
hands.
And then she was firing, hoping to catch some of the men behind the door
off-guard. Shouts came from outside, confused cries in the dark. Mentally
thanking her husband for the silencer he'd put on her weapon, Beru rushed
forward to hunker down under the window next to the door. The door burst open
under the shoulders of two black-clad men and she calmly shot them as they came
through the opening.
They fell hard, knocking over furniture and making sounds of surprised pain.
Beru could see in the scant moonlight that they were dressed in motley clothes.
Spaceport riffraff, or smugglers, she guessed. Drawn by the tempting target of
a holding where the man of the house was away. Two more men came through the
door after their comrades, but these ducked and rolled immediately, taking cover
behind large armchairs. In their firing line now, Beru was up and running for
the open door before she could think about it. She knew she was a perfect
target, silhouetted against the faint light from the Tatooine moon outside. She
tried not to think about it, about what would happen if she were hit; what would
happen to Luke. She just ran, ditching the rifle. Her back a nice broad bull's
eye, Beru dived sideways, praying for them to be mediocre shots.
They were. Their blasts went wide, cutting big chunks out of her doorframe.
She hit the dirt, landing heavily and realising she was now unarmed. And
getting too old for this nonsense. She rolled over and came up in a crouch,
hating the precious seconds she had to waste waiting for her eyes to adjust to
the darkness. When she could see, shadows manifested into familiar shapes: her
precious plants, equipment, a broken droid.
One shadow detached itself from the wall of the homestead, moving with speed and
precision. Beru's heart almost stopped before she recognised the robed figure
of Ben coming towards her, a graceful and deadly bird flying silently across her
courtyard. Then the crunch of boots on sand brought her attention back to the
moment. A blaster fired, but fractions after the shots left the barrel Ben's
lightsaber was there, its blue humming length halting death nanoseconds from her
heart. Deflected, the bandit's bolts cannoned into his own chest and he fell
with a muffled thud. His comrade died seconds later; the Jedi skewered the
unfortunate on his blade as he came through the doorway.
Beru drew breath in what felt like the first time in hours. Heart hammering
with adrenaline, she stood and dusted off her pants. Ben shut of his saber and
returned it to his belt. He turned to look at her, face half-hidden in the
shadow of his hood. In the silence of the night, they stood. No words were
spoken, they each knew the thoughts of the other's heart. Finally Beru lifted
her chin shortly in thanks. Ben smiled slightly, coming towards her and putting
one hand on her shoulder. She returned the gesture, squeezed for a moment, and
then he was gone. A swirl of cloak as he disappeared around the corner of her
home marked the departure of a man most of the desert people labelled a crazy
old hermit.
Beru knew better. She watched the rising wind blow sand into his footprints for
a few moments, then went inside, re-bolting the front door behind her. Picking
up her dropped rifle, she straightened the furniture before continuing down the
passageway. She unlocked and opened Luke's door, checking on her most precious
possession. The boy hadn't even wakened. He still slept peacefully behind his
reinforced door, his even breathing audible to his adopted Aunt from the
doorway. In the dark of the homestead, the bittersweet sadness in Beru's eyes
carried the weight of the world, her willing burden. He would leave her one
day, this she knew as surely as she had known this night's killing would be
necessary. But until then, he was hers to protect and love. Hers to watch in
the night.
~END~
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