745. The Makings of a Henchman pt. 1 - Trychon

Tranquility valley was turning out to be anything but. Not that that was a surprise to Captain Alzo, affectionately referred to by his men as 'Zoe'.  This entire area had been nearly razed to the ground in the few months since he'd gotten there.  Not in a single devastating attack, but rather through slow attrition from the seemingly endless battle for position.  The 'Black Boots' and the 'Red Shirts' had really created a ruin of this place, in the the process of trying to kill each other to prove their point.

What seemed like such a noble fight two years ago, now seemed like a waste of time and life on the rare occasions he was able to look out on the remains of the once lush valley.  He tried once, writing his wife, to describe the sounds and smells of the unnatural state his surroundings had taken.  The most descriptive word he was able to conjure was 'indescribable'.  There simply were no other words, at least not in Basic, to describe what scorched ground was like, after it was scorched three more times.

Not that she'd want to understand anyhow.  Nobody would, in their right mind.  It was the only thing that kept him from being depressed about the lack of a view in his 'office' as he liked to think of his six square meters of space, even though he also slept there.

A knock at the door surprised him nearly enough to jump.  Instead, his eyes simply regained their focus on the map readings that were in front of him.  He straightened his red uniform shirt and called the person in.

"Captain Alzo, sir?"  Lieutenant Rigger stuck his head through the opening.

"I'm sitting down, Lieutenant.  You can call me 'Cap' like everyone else does."  He sighed.  "Weren't you supposed to be our recon tonight?"

"Negative... er... 'Cap'." The junior officer sat down opposite him.  "I said I'd take care of it."

Alzo rolled his eyes.  "Don't tell me."

"Jenkins and Johnson volunteered."  The Lieutenant confirmed.  "You know how they are."  He cut off the rebuke before his Captain could fit it in.

Unfortunately, he did.  Everyone did.  Those two were about as giving as you could ever want in a soldier.  They took the meaning of 'Volunteer' to a whole new level.  Everyone in the bunker was a volunteer.  Jenkins and Johnson volunteered for everything though, not just their service.

Yes, they were all volunteers at one point... though there was no getting out now.  Yet the more the unit's outlook was bleak, the more those two would offer to do anything to help.  In confidence, they told him that they figured every small bit could help morale, and every bit of morale was needed to win.  They would nearly literally do anything and everything for the good of the group.

He had to admit that it had worked.  Everyone may have given up by now if it weren't for those two.  "You know I worry about them getting taken advantage of.  You should have checked with me."  Deep down, he knew that they were probably the best ones for the job.  Nothing seemed to shake them, and they were the most likely to come back alive or with results.  They spent all their time trying to help everyone else's morale, yet theirs remained like the duraplast bunker they were all stuck in.  "Even those guys deserve their downtime.  Hell, those guys especially deserve their downtime."

"And we'll get it too!"  Jenkins busted in the door and stood at a salute.

"Kriffin' a... We all will."  Johnson followed in the same manner.

Alzo could never get over how similar the two were, at least not considering they hadn't met but a year previously.  He wondered sometimes if they sat in their bunk and planned out some of their interactions and such, like they did their little skits they performed for the company, as Shirt and Boot the loveable but mishap prone mascots of the two warring factions.

He was looking at the two now, and they were as excitable as their two comedic alter egos.  They clearly had something to say and were merely waiting permission to share.  He waited a few moments until they looked ready to burst, before giving them an at ease order and suggesting they sit down.  They refused to sit, so he asked them for their report.

"We found it."  Johnson started.  "We think it's the big one!"  Jenkins finished.

Alzo looked at them intently to make sure they weren't pulling his leg.  It would be too good to be true.  "Do you think you were seen?"

Jenkins shook his head no.  Johnson shrugged as he answered.  "We're here, aren't we?"

They were right.  If the 'Boots' had seen them, they probably wouldn't have made it back alive.  Several soldiers had gone missing on similar missions, and that was what had most likely happened to them as well.  The enemy was entrenched in portable bunkers similar to their own.  Placed in the middle of the night under the cover of a lot of air cover and misdirection, once such a structure was placed, they were darn near impossible to find.  To take one out, you had to know exactly where it was, and that was the trick.

It still wouldn't be easy, but with knowledge of where one of the enemy bunkers was... or even a command center as they thought they'd found... perhaps they had a chance to finally turn this battle.

He grabbed a cigarra and rolled it between his fingers before sticking it between his lips and getting just a hint of its sweet spices.  "Alright.  You boys stay.  Rigger, assemble the rest of the officers.  We have some planning to do."

744. The Accidental Escape - Epilogue - Raezyr

The bearded man looked up from his cook fire to the night sky. He could visibly see the glowing ship moving across the sky. It couldn't be missed, really. It was the biggest, brightest object up there, standing in stark contrast to the rest of the stars and space junk.

He'd seen many ships orbiting various planets in his time, but this one was massive, and that was unusual for this back water planet.

He picked up his crutch. It was old and almost polished, worn smooth from years of use. He placed it under his good arm and hobbled through the entrance of his home then struggled up the wooden stairs and into the cargo bay of the old space craft.

The ship hadn't moved in years, not since it first landed, and it was nearly covered with jungle growth, both inside and out. Once it would have taken him anywhere in the Galaxy had he chosen to leave... but the reality was that this had been just as good of a place as anywhere else.

He knew that eventually they would come for him, he just thought it would be sooner than this.

Jonas sat down at the controls in what once was the shuttle cockpit and wiped away the grime from the main computer screen. He began entering the start-up sequence, not to fire the engines as he knew that would have been useless although it did cross his mind anyway, but just to check the scanners. He wanted to double check what he was sure he already knew.

It took a few moments to coax the circuits back to life after lying dormant for so long, but eventually the readouts came. Sure enough, the ship overhead was a Republic... Imperial now, he corrected himself, star cruiser... a large capital ship which identified itself as a "Star Destroyer," whatever that was.

He sat watching the readouts for a few minutes, noting that the Imperial ship's sensors were now scanning his location. He had forgotten that active scans of a ship, as opposed to passive, usually got its attention. Especially one that big which had crew working around the clock.

The crippled man sighed. No sense in lying to himself. He hadn't been careless about the scans. Deep down, he had known exactly what he was doing. There was really no sense in delaying the inevitable at this point. All he had done was shorten the waiting period. The man struggled to his feet and made his way back down to the main living quarters, crawled into bed and, his mind no longer worried about how long it would take to them to find him, he went to sleep.

The sounds of the repulsor lifts passing overhead woke him from his restful slumber a few hours later. He sat up, scratched his beard and reached for his ever-present crutch, then made his way down the stairs and outside. He watched the shuttle land a few kilometers off and noted that it wasn't all that different from his, despite the years.

They came a short while later. The clone troopers. No, not clone troopers... at least not dressed like he remembered. The armor was similar, yet different. He wondered if those faces underneath the gleaming white helmets were all the same or if there were real people under there.

They were led by a massive man dressed in nightmare black armor with a flowing cloak billowing behind and he could hear some sort of respirator assisted breathing coming from him as well, but what stood out the most was nothing visual. The man... or thing... was a Force user. Except not a Force user like any he'd ever sensed before.

Somehow the Force surrounding the figure, while powerful indeed, was tainted and twisted, coated in corruption. Just the mere presence nauseated the crippled man, although he tried not to let it show. Yet there was something familiar about the man that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He stood up as they approached. "May I help you with something?" he asked, still holding out some slim hope that maybe they weren't here to arrest him. His body had never healed right after the fall and the explosion, and he knew he'd never be able to handle prison.

The black figure stopped several meters away. "Zan Jonas, I presume." It wasn't a question.

"Do I know you?" Jonas replied.

"Once perhaps," the black demon said waving his hand, dismissing the subject as of no consequence. "You disapoint me. I was expecting much more of a challenge from someone who has managed to elude me for so long."

The ever present intake and expulsion of each breath was disconcerting. "Challenge?" Jonas said, confused. "I offer no challenge. I will let myself be arrested, I'm in no condition to resist."

"I'm not here to arrest you," the man in black replied.

Jonas let out a sigh of relief, misunderstanding the meaning of the statement.

Suddenly, realization dawned on him. He knew who this was... but it couldn't be! "I know you!" the crippled Jedi exclaimed. "I recognize you now... but why?"

At the same time, the black figure raised his gauntleted fist and slowly began pressing his fingers closer together, making a squeezing motion.

At the last second, Jonas tried to defend himself, shielding himself with the Force, but the Imperial representative blasted through his defenses almost as if they weren't there. He was entirely too powerful.

Slowly, Jonas could feel his windpipe and trachea constricting. Breaths were harder and harder to draw until his air supply was completely choked off. He pulled reflexively at his throat as if he might be able to loosen the grip of the unseen force that was slowly killing him.

Finally, unable to struggle any longer, Zan Jonas felt the world around him slip into darkness.

-------------------

Darth Vader held the grip for a few minutes more until he felt the life force completely leave the pathetic Jedi's body before finally dropping his hand. Wordlessly, he gestured to the Storm Trooper squad leader to clean-up before spinning on his heel to head back to the ship.

"All too easy," the Sith Lord said to himself.

743. The Accidental Escape Pt. 2 - Raezyr

The time at the landing site was mid-morning, and the clone trooper set the shuttle down in a grassy clearing near the top of a large hill. All around were small, but steep mountains with deep valleys in between. The steepness was softened a bit by the jungle that covered almost everything the eye could see, making everything seem a bit more even.

Zan Jonas went back to the cargo bay and began putting together the equipment he would need to capture and transport the specimens, as well as checking over the cryostasis pods. If those weren't in working order, there wasn't much use trekking out into the jungle.

He hoped it wouldn't take more than a couple days to meet the quota they had given him. On Republic affiliated worlds, he tried to stay in hostels and inns as often as possible, but a trip like this would force the Jedi to camp out, especially if he wasn't able to make it back to the ship for the night.

He glanced over as the clone trooper entered the cargo bay and began going over his equipment. Mostly weapons, Jonas noted. "I doubt you'll need all that hardware, Corporal," he said, voicing his thoughts.

"Never hurts to be prepared for the unexpected, sir," the clone said, continuing his preparations. He finished his packing and began donning his green and brown mottled armor.

When they had finished, they pushed the control button which dropped the whole cargo bay to the ground under the fuselage of the shuttle and stepped out. Already the heat and humidity was oppressive and Jonas had to resort to Force techniques to compensate. He wondered briefly how the corporal could stand wearing that helmet and armor without passing out.

"I won't tell if you want to leave that armor here at the ship," he said, trying to give the clone a way to be a bit more comfortable in this climate.

He laughed underneath his helmet. "Good one, sir."

Apparently he thought it had been a joke.

Jonas shrugged and closed his eyes. He stretched out with the Force, ranging farther and farther, concentrating on the insects he was looking for. Generally, the smaller and less intelligent the creature, the harder it was to sense with the Force. Right now, all he was getting was a vague sense that he out to travel in a Northerly direction.

"That way, Corporal," he said, pointing the way he wanted to go, and they both strode out.

The going wasn't easy, and often the Scout Clone Trooper had to pull out his machete, or Jonas had to use his lightsaber to clear the underbrush to make a path. It was the most use the Jedi weapon had seen in a long time.

By mid-afternoon, the pair stopped at the top of a tall steep hill to take a breather and for Jonas to get his bearings. He had yet to come across anything but faint sensations and his hopes of finding the insects quickly were growing dimmer by the minute.

The Jedi stood there on the edge with his eyes closed, sensing that he should still move forward. He opened his eyes and looked down, calculating the possibility of navigating straight down. It was even steeper than he had imagined at first, but there were enough saplings and underbrush that it might be possible. One misstep and that would be it, though.

He was also taking into consideration the fact they'd eventually have to come back up, and wondering if an easier way down might be close by when it dawned on him that the trooper standing just a couple meters to his side was talking.

Jonas looked over and realized the soldier was getting some sort of a communique through the comm in his helmet.

"I copy you. Order 66. Roger that. CC1558, out," was all Jonas was able to catch.

"Something up, Corporal?" Jonas asked.

Time slowed to a crawl for the Jedi. Several things registered at almost the same instant, and his brain processed it nearly as fast. First, he sensed in the Force a sudden aggressive feeling from his escort. Second, he felt the Force trying to warn him of imminent danger, and third, he saw the corporal grasp his carbine and begin to swing it up in Jonas' direction.

Jonas' first thought was that the trooper was going to shoot him, but just as quickly he dismissed that as ridiculous. The clones were allies of the Republic and the Jedi worked side by side with them, commanding them and fighting with them. That assessment of the situation just wasn't possible.

Jonas' second thought seemed to be the correct one. Some dangerous beast had come up behind Jonas when he had been concentrating on finding the insect, and the trooper was attempting to do his duty and protect the Jedi.

Time seemed to speed back up as the Jedi acted on instinct, spinning to face the danger and drawing his lightsaber at the same time.

As he spun, a rock rolled under his foot, throwing the Jedi off balance and to the ground. The only problem was that at the point in time when he expected his body to hit the dirt, he kept falling instead.

Two things he noticed then. One, he had fallen down the hill, and two, the clone trooper had swung the barrel of the carbine once again in his direction and was sending a salvo of blaster fire his way.

As he hit and bounced for the first of many times, the only thought running through Jonas' mind was that the trooper really was trying to kill him.

---------------

How much time had passed, Jonas didn't know. He opened his eyes and tried to look around and his head screamed. He forced himself to sit up and assess his situation. He was pretty sure his arm was broken, as was a leg and several ribs, and he guessed he probably had a concussion, from the his head felt and the waves of blackness that kept threatening to wash over him.

He had to remind himself that if it weren't for the clumsy tumble down the hill, he'd be dead right now, although he wasn't sure that death wasn't preferable to his current situation.

Jonas looked down in his hand and was surprised to see himself clutching a familiar metal cylinder, and then he vaguely remembered doing his best as he fell to try and cushion himself using the Force and concentrating on holding on to that lightsaber.

At the same time he flicked it on to see if it would still work, he noticed a crack running down the side of the hilt. He tried to flick it back off, but it was too late. A high pitch whine began to build, getting louder and louder. The core of the powercell had been damaged and it was going to blow.

Jonas tossed the tube as far as he could and gathered the Force around him to once again protect himself from the concussive impact.

The explosion was huge, and the Jedi suspected that if not for the Force, he'd have been killed despite the toss.

Suddenly it dawned on him, that through the Force, he had felt... something... die. A big something.

He began to crawl as best he could toward the site of the explosion. He started to crawl over a log, then stopped.

It wasn't a log. Rather, it was the charred remains of a human.

No, not a human.

A clone.

742. The Accidental Escape Pt. 1 - Raezyr

Zan Jonas sat in the passenger compartment of the small shuttle and dozed. He wasn't at all happy. Master Yoda had insisted that he take along an armed escort. The little green Jedi Master had explained that the war between the Republic and the Trade Federation led Confederation of Independent Systems had spread far beyond imaginable reach, and a lone Jedi on a planet in hostile territory was not safe, no matter how remote the world was, or how peaceful the mission of the Jedi was.

Who knew that collecting some rare herb samples for scientific study could turn out to be such a hassle?

Jonas sighed to himself and absentmindedly fingered the metal cylinder clipped to his belt. It had been years since he'd activated the standard weapon of the Jedi, and he'd never killed anyone with it. It wasn't that he'd been inept, although at times he wished he had been, he'd just spent most of his time with his nose in the books, studying. Had his lightsaber skills been deemed "lacking," he would have been delegated to the Jedi Service Corps or Educational Corps by the Council of Reassignment, which was really what he had hoped might happen.

Still, his role was a useful one. Often, as was the case now, samples needed to be collected from some remote, yet dangerous world and those in the Educational Corps would come to him for an escort, or to go retrieve the items or specimens himself.

Normally he liked to bring the academics along for some intelligent conversation, but this time all he had was a clone trooper. Jonas couldn't remember exactly what his designation was. CC15 something or other. The clone was a corporal in rank, so that's what Jonas had been calling him.

He had tried to talk to the... being (he wasn't sure a clone classified as a person)... in the beginning of the trip, but the clone wasn't inclined to idle chit chat, and even when Jonas had gotten him to open up, all he talked about was field stripping his DC-15S and other mundane military topics. The Jedi soon stopped trying to engage him in any meaningful conversation.

Jonas looked down at the lightsaber again. He tried to think back to the last time he'd even turned it on.  One of these days he'd have to practice with it... on the off chance he actually needed to use it.

Of course, he doubted he'd need it on this mission. All he had to do was capture several insect specimens that were only found in the tropical forests on SaDarval, a remote world which was about half water and half land, and had a vast array of climates and terrain, ranging from dry and rocky to wet and icy, from flatlands to tropics, to mountains, to deserts.

He'd have to put them into the cryostasis containers that he had brought along and stored in the cargo bay as nobody had successfully transported live specimens off planet, as far as anyone knew anyway.

He still didn't understand why he needed a clone trooper. There was nothing on SaDarval that was particularly dangerous. Most of the native species of plant and animal life were no more dangerous than anywhere else. There were no gundarks or rancors to watch out for, and as long as he stayed away from the human settlers, he should have no trouble at all.

The comm crackled to life bringing the Jedi's thoughts to the present and the corporal's voice came across. "Sir, we've just exited hyperspace."

"Thankyou Corporal. I'll be right up," Jonas replied. He shut off the comm and sighed as he got out of his seat. He looked down at the paunch that had accumulated around his mid-section and decided that maybe he should attempt to lose that one of these days.

Yoda as well as his old Master had always stressed that being physically fit directly correlated to one's mental capabilities. Jonas always meant to exercise, but somehow seemed to be too busy doing other things all the time.

He pushed the button on the door and entered the cockpit. He slid into the co-pilot's couch wordlessly and pulled up a surface map of SaDarval without even glancing at the bluish-green orb hanging in the blackness ahead.

Finally Jonas found what he was looking for: a remote tropical forest, big enough to possibly contain the insect specimens he was looking for, but far enough away from any settlements so as to avoid any contact with locals who might take a disliking to a Republic shuttle landing on their CIS affiliated world. He transferred the coordinates to the navcomp, and pointed it out to the clone trooper.

"Here's a good spot," he said. "See if you can find a decent place to put down around there, Corporal."

"Roger that, sir," the trooper responded.

Zan Jonas sighed.

741. Night Flight - Raezyr

The young blonde haired boy looked around the corner quietly. He listened carefully to the even breathing coming from within the room, indicating its occupants were fast asleep. The boy breathed a sigh of relief and slipped stealthily toward the garage.

Once securely seated and strapped into the cockpit of the Incom T-16 Skyhopper, the nine year old Luke Skywalker began the preliminary engine run-up. Thankfully, the hangar was sound proofed and he knew he didn't have to worry about waking up his guardians. Luke was sure that Uncle Owen would skin him alive if he knew what Luke was about to do.

Still dark, the boy piloted the air speeder across the desert sands to the outskirts of Tosche Station. Luke cautiously peered out the door and into the darkness. A figure emerged from the shadow of a building.

"So," the person said, "you did have the guts to show up."

"Of course I did, Biggs," Luke replied to the older boy. "Hurry up and get in. Uncle Owen will have a fit if I'm not back before he wakes up."

The dark haired 14 year old climbed up and into the ship and they both sat down in the cockpit. "Let's see what this old hunk of junk can do," Biggs Darklighter said. Despite their difference in age, the two boys had become great friends, fueled by their extreme competitiveness when it came to piloting.

So far in their lives, they had primarily been limited to landspeeders like the beat up old X-34 SoroSuub landspeeder which he often matched against Biggs' XP-38. Tonight was different, however. For the first time they were going to make a few time trial runs in an airspeeder through the easiest part of Beggar's Canyon.

Biggs had goaded the younger boy into "borrowing" his uncle's T-16, rather than run the risk of getting himslef in trouble for borrowing one of his father's. He grinned to himself, wondering just how much trouble Luke was going to get into when he got home.

As the young blond-haired pilot approached Beggar's Canyon, he slowed up and began a high fly-over of the area.

"What's the matter, Luke?" Biggs taunted goodnaturedly. "You getting cold feet?"

"No way," he said. "I'm just makin' sure I get a good look at the first part of the run."

The two boys stared intently at the scanner readouts, depicting the entire canyon. The canyon itself had been formed millennia ago by the junction of three rivers, back when Tatooine had been covered with plenty of water and vegetation. Near the end of the canyon lay a rock formation that was known as the Stone Needle. It was a jagged hole in the rocks at the top of a spire which was just wide enough to allow swoops and speeders to pass. All the older kids talked about threading the needle, but only the craziest and bravest pilots ever attempted it during a race. Every couple of years some hotshot young pilot would get killed trying to pass through it.

Biggs and Luke checked out the deadly formation on the scanner as they passed near. "One day I'll thread the needle," Biggs boasted.

"Can I have your swoop after you try?" Luke ribbed him back.

The dark haired boy ignored the comment. Instead he grinned. "Quit stalling, farm-boy. Time to make your run."

They had agreed on running the first leg, since it was night time and up until the first junction the canyon was a bit wider and the turns not quite as sharp. The one with the fastest time would get bragging rights.

Someday they'd run the whole thing, but not now, not at night.

Luke Skywalker flipped his shaggy blond hair out of his face as he strapped into the pilot's couch. He noticed Biggs do the same, and Luke gripped the controls.

"Here we go... aaaand, START!" Luke yelled and punched throttle the same instant the Darklighter boy started the timer.

He dropped low, mere meters from the bottom of the canyon, as sweat began beading on his forehead. It was nearly all instrument flying as it was a pitch black night and not even the moonlight reached the bottom of the canyon.

Suddenly a small signature appeared on the scopes, clinging to the wall of the canyon. Luke recognized what it was instantly and dropped his cross heirs on the object which was barely 2 meters in size. He squeezed off a shot from the T-16's blaster cannon and the energy bolts struck true, obliterating the womp rat.

"Bullseye!" Biggs yelled from his seat. He looked over to see a grin spread across the face of his younger friend despite being locked in concentration on the manuevers.

The blond boy banked hard around corners, increased his throttle coming out and slowed up just enough to make the next tight corner. Finally as he came up on the junction, he slowed and pulled up out of the canyon. He exhaled long and hard, realizing he must have forgotten to breathe as he manuevered the course.

"Not bad, kid, not bad," Biggs said looking at the timer, "but now it's time for me to show you how it's done."

"Yeah, yeah," Luke replied. "It's all talk until you've made your run." Luke set the air ship to auto pilot and the youths switched seats, with Biggs taking over the controls.

The dark haired youth flew back to the start and gave his friend the signal to start the timer as he began his run.

Immediately Biggs saw another womp rat on his scopes and he tried to replicate Luke's shot but missed wide to the right, but not by much.

"Oh, man," Luke said with sincerity. "Almost."

Biggs said nothing but continued to concentrate on flying the best course he could. Although the two were competitive, they were still friends and enjoyed cheering each other on and seeing each other do well.

Finally, the elder boy came around the final corner and pulled up as he reached the junction. They both looked down at the timer.

"Yeehaw!" Biggs yelled. "Beat you by two and a half seconds!"

Luke crossed his arms across his chest. "It's not fair! You got to see me do it first and learn from my mistakes!"

"Oh, quit whining, Farm-boy," Biggs said haughtily. "I beat you fair and square."

Luke suddenly grinned. "But you missed that womp rat by a mile, while I bullseye'd it!"

Biggs conveniently ignored the comment, but looked at his wrist chrono. "Oh, dang, Luke. We gotta get home!"

Luke looked down at his own chrono. They had been out much later than they had planned. "Boy, am I gonna get it!"

Luke dropped his friend off at Tosche Station, hovering just long enough for Biggs to jump to the sand below and run for his land speeder before taking off for home.

Skywalker set the T-16 down in the small hangar and shut all the systems down. Hopefully his aunt and uncle hadn't awakened and he could slip back into bed. He exited the ship and slipped as quietly as he could back into the house.

As he tip-toed silently through the main living area toward his bedroom, the lights flickered on.

"Do you mind explaining where you've been  for the last 3 hours?" came the stern voice of Luke's uncle, Owen Lars.

Luke's shoulders sagged and he hung his head as he turned to face his uncle, the man who had raised him for as long as he could remember. "I took the air speeder out for a night flight," he admitted, not wanting to lie, yet feeling it was probably better not to reveal the full truth that he had flown Beggar's Canyon.

Luke's aunt, Beru Lars, came into the living room, cinching the tie around her robe. "Luke, we were so worried about you. It's dangerous to fly at night, you know that."

"I know," Luke admitted.

"Then why the hell were you out there, if you knew?" Owen barked.

"I just wanted to have some fun, a little excitement, I didn't think you'd even notice," Luke replied.

"Damn it, Luke," his uncle continued, "you've got your head in the clouds. What if you had wrecked? Even had you survived, how do you think we would have replaced that speeder? It wouldn't fix itself, you know."

"I know," the boy said. "I'm sorry."

"Damn right, you're sorry," the moisture farmer finished. "Now, get cleaned up for breakfast," he added in a lighter tone.

Luke trotted out of the room and down the hall.

Once the boy was out of ear shot, Owen walked over and put his arm around his wife. "I just don't know what we're going to do with that boy."

"Luke's just not a farmer, Owen," the dark haired, middle aged woman said. "He has too much of his father in him."

Owen scratched his thin beard, thinking, then kissed his wife on the top of her head. "That's what I'm worried about."