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Not unarmed, Luke thought. I have my lightsaber.

A lot of good it would do him against a horde of determined Sand People.

Luke had heard rumors of the Tusken Raiders flaying their victims, tossing their corpses to the banthas. If he and Jaxson were here when the Sand People arrived, it wouldn't be a fight, it would be a massacre.

"We should run for it," Jaxson urged. "Now, before it's too late."

Luke shook his head. "It's wide open out there. They'll spot us, and then it's over."

"Like they're not going to spot us once they get closer, and we're just sitting here like a couple of kriffing dewbacks?"

Luke didn't say anything.

"Well?" Jaxson pushed him. "You got a better idea? Because I'm not going to just stand here and wait to die."

You can't win, Luke remembered Ben once saying, but there are alternatives to fighting.

Luke hadn't understood it then, and he wasn't sure how it could help him now. He did know exactly what Han would have to say on the subject: You don't need all that Jedi mumbo jumbo, kid. What you need is a good blaster.

Han liked to claim that Obi-f0 Wan's Jedi advice was impractical, useless in a real emergency. Luke always argued him, but right now, he was inclined to agree. Sure, Obi-f0 Wan had been a master when it came to the Force, but what good was that when confronted with a band of angry Sand People who—

Of course! Luke thought, feeling stupid for not remembering sooner. He cupped his hands around his mouth and drew in a deep breath of air. Then, eyes closed, fingers mentally crossed, he blew out the best imitation krayt dragon call he could muster. And then he did it again, even louder.

"What are you doing?" Jaxson hissed angrily. "Now they'll come straight for us!"

"I don't think so," Luke said, nodding as the line of Sand People took a sharp turn toward the north, away from Luke and Jaxson's useless hiding place. In moments, they'd disappeared over the horizon.

Jaxson stared at him with wonder, the same expression that had crossed his face when he'd first seen Luke's lightsaber. "How'd you do that?"

"Tusken Raiders are afraid of krayt dragons," Luke said, trying not to shudder in relief that that trick had actually worked. "A dragon call is usually enough to scare them away."

"But how'd you know it would work?"

"An old friend of mine proved it to me, once," Luke said fondly. That had been the second time Obi-f0 Wan had saved him in the Jundland Wastes. Years before, Obi-f0 Wan had found Luke and Windy stranded in the desert, and led them to safety. The mysterious hermit had deposited Luke back at Uncle Owen's farm and disappeared into the wilderness. Luke hadn't seen him again until that afternoon Obi-f0 Wan had saved him from the Sand People. So much had happened after that—learning that his father was a Jedi, burying his aunt and uncle, leaving Tatooine for a new life—he'd nearly forgotten.

I wish you were here with me now, Ben, Luke thought. The old man had lived in the Wastes for years—he must have learned a way to survive the harsh environment. But Ben was dead, and Luke was on his own.

Strangely, he didn't quite feel like it. Maybe it was because Obi-f0 Wan had lived here for so long, or maybe it was because Obi-f0 Wan's wisdom had, yet again, saved his life, but Luke felt the old man's presence. It was as if Obi-Wan was watching him every step of the way, urging him to go on, to survive.

Don't worry, Ben. I won't let you down.

As they pushed further west, endless stretches of flat desert gave way to a ragged landscape of cliffs and canyons. Luke and Jaxson found themselves edging along steep, gravelly paths in a darkness lit only by the blue glow of Luke's lightsaber.

"Where'd you get that thing, anyway?" Jaxson asked. "You steal it?"

"It belonged to my father," Luke said, inching along the narrow trail that wrapped around the cliffside. It had dwindled to less than a meter across, and beyond it lay a gaping chasm that seemed to stretch down forever.