Luke had heard stories from Biggs and Uncle Owen about the Mos Eisley cantina, but seeing it in person was beyond overwhelming. A band of biths played a jaunty tune that hardly eased any of the tension the young farm boy felt amidst the seedier patrons of the galaxy. A plethora of alien species dotted every dark corner of the bar, most wearing hoods like Luke to obscure their faces as they discussed business dealings or gossiped about underworld affairs. It was a haven for smugglers, bounty hunters, thieves, and just about any other criminal. Luke felt unnerved knowing he and Ben had garnered the attention of just about everyone there.

“Be careful, Luke.” Ben cautioned. “We’re only looking for a pilot, not trouble.” Luke nodded in understanding, he definitely didn’t want to start anything with anyone here. Taking a seat at the bar counter, the farm boy felt more out of place than ever.

The two sat there for a while. Despite the unsavory looks being thrown by everyone else in the room, the cantina banter seemed to be drawing the attention of the barkeep away from the two conspicuous humans. It wasn’t until Obi Wan set down a respectable stack of credit chips that the eyes of the bartender came to the hermit, the rest of him following a second later.

“What can I get ya?” He barked with a raspy tone of impatience. Luke noticed that the man looked markedly worn down, a bit scruffy, fresh cuts on the edges of his wispy beard. He assuredly wasn’t the easiest bartender to look at on Tatooine.

Obi Wan pushed the stack of chips closer to the man, always keeping his hand on top. “I happen to be looking for transportation off world, friend.”

The bartender turned his nose up at the words. “I ain’t your friend, and people don’t drink transportation, so I ain’t sellin’ it.”

“Perhaps I could--”

“Perhaps nothin’.” The barkeep cut the hermit off with a definite tone of finality.

With a smile, Ben waved his hand in a delicate motion, speaking with a flair of confidence.

“You’d rather take the money and tell me what I want.”

Luke took a worried glance at the old man.

From the farm boy’s perspective, it sounded as if Ben had told the bartender what to do, and if what Luke knew about Mos Eisley types had an ounce of truth to it, then the barkeep wouldn’t take too kindly to being bossed around. Skywalker felt himself get on edge and braced for some sort of confrontation when--

“I’d rather take the money and tell you what you want…” The barkeep repeated. His voice sounded placated, the roughness in his face relaxed and his eyes seemed to slip into some sort of trance. “The only ship headin’ off world is Solo’s…”

Ben didn’t bother to acknowledge Luke’s open mouthed amazement. “And where can I find this Solo?”

The barkeep seemed to have a moment of clarity as he let out a short snarky laugh before slipping back into the trance.

“Probably dead and in the ground,” The man provided with mild amusement. “Jabba’s men’ll have that bantha fodder dead for wasting that rodian in my bar. He’s probably being turned into a scorch-mark as we speak, him and his wookie pal.” He pointed with his thumb to one of the spots where patrons could sit; only one was empty, and it was the only one with what looked like a blood stain on the table...and a small black blaster mark on the wall. “Greedo never had a shot.”

“You will tell me where I can find Solo.” Ben spoke imperatively this time, Luke noticed that the bartender had been slowly getting more agitated; the power the hermit was using must’ve been wearing off.

The barkeep’s eyes glazed over again at Obi Wan’s behest.

“Docking bay...94.” With that, Ben slid the credits over to the bartender and got up from his stool. The man shook his head as if he had just come down from a bad headache, pocketed the chips, and moved away to take a less confusing customer’s order.

“Come along, Luke.” Ben said, making his way out of the cantina. Luke let out a sigh of relief, he didn’t like feeling the pressure of so many eyes on him. The sordid crowd made his skin crawl, but Obi Wan seemed unfazed. Luke hoped that maybe when he was a Jedi, he’d have Ben’s courage.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, but halfway to the docking bay, Luke couldn’t hold his curiosity in any longer.

“What was that power you used?” He beamed, his voice bubbly. “Was that some sort of Jedi magic like back at the burrow?” Luke’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm and Ben couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is it too hard to believe I did it without some sort of magic?” He smiled. “I was known as ‘The Negotiator’ back in my prime!”

The winds picked up and a wave of sand interrupted Luke before he could get a response out. The loose layers Luke wore kept the sand out of his eyes and mouth, but the grains still buffeted his cheeks.Waiting for the winds to die down, they passed through the marketplaces lining Mos Eisley, each one filled with aliens and off world items. Luke could never afford much more than the food and appliances Uncle Owen would let him buy, so he never gave the market much attention. But after passing through with Ben, everything seemed to have so much more color and detail.

As the wind quieted to nothing more than a soft whistle, Luke finally spoke.

“Yeah, but that thing you did,” He had been replaying the events over and over in his mind as they walked. “You told him what to say and he did it...He looked as if he were in some like--like you were messing with his mind.”

Luke pulled his cover tighter over his mouth, he was fumbling with his words. “Can Jedi really get into people’s heads and make them do things they don’t want to? It seems...wrong.”

Ben didn’t look at his apprentice, but Luke could see him thinking through the corners of his eyes. “You’re right. It is wrong to force others to do things they don’t want to. It is a dangerous power and can be abused for evil, but as Jedi we must use it only as a means to avoid conflict. A Jedi does not use the Force for their own benefit, but for the good of all.”

“So…” Luke pondered the old Jedi’s words. “Since he wouldn’t tell you willingly, you made him tell you to avoid violence?”

Ben gave a slight nod. “Correct; getting involved in an altercation there would have been detrimental to our journey. There was also the need to hurry.”

“Why, is something wrong?”

Ben’s voice was grim and the old Jedi picked up his pace. “If what our friend back there told us is correct, then we should hope we find this Solo before Jabba does.”

Luke had forgotten the bartender mentioned Solo being in trouble with Jabba. Even on the moisture farm, Luke knew the name and all of its infamy. The Hutt crime lord practically ruled the underworld and called the shots from his palace on Tatooine. If Solo was in trouble with the Hutt, then he made a dangerous mistake coming here.

“Right.” Picking up his pace, Luke hurried after the old Jedi. Together, they maneuvered their way through the crowded pale yellow streets of Mos Eisley, holding onto the sliver of hope that Jabba the Hutt hadn’t already turned Solo into a scorch-mark.