The Tuscan Raiders
By Zygmunt
The hills of Tuscany rolled golden and far into the distance.
It was a generous land spotted with rustic vineyards and bathed
in the Mediterranean sun. Luke Skywalker had been to many planets,
but never had any place felt so safe and welcoming as this one. This
might even be a good place to found a Jedi Academy, though, the
climate might distract young padawans from their studies.
Just then, he heard cries from the hills behind him but he
could not sense anyone nearby when he reached out with the force.
His suspicions were aroused and he looked around in every direction
but saw nothing. Luke felt that something was deeply wrong in this
seemingly placid land and continued cautiously with his hand on his
lightsaber. Perhaps he should return to his shuttle. He turned to go
back the way he came, but was suddenly knocked unconscious as a full
wine bottle was brought down on his skull from behind.
A small but solid man with a Roman nose protruding from his face
motioned to his fellows to come out of hiding. The Tuscan Raiders
surrounded Luke Skywalker’s prone body and cried out cheerfully in
Italian. They had captured another tourist and this one had been even
more clueless than most. They quickly stripped him of any valuable
belongings.
Luke Skywalker came to in a dwelling with white plaster walls
and open windows looking out onto rows of olive trees. He was sitting
in a corner with his hands bound behind his back and a family bustled
about the house’s central table, obviously making preparations for a
large meal. Relatives who lived nearby arrived and the father of the
house would give them big, wet kisses on each cheek. Skywalker
reached out for the force, but found that he could not feel it at all.
Not knowing what to do, he simply sat back and waited to see what would happen next. He felt hungry as he smelled the rich aromas floating in from the kitchen and, thankfully, when the meal was served, his captors were so kind as to hand feed him some of their scraps. Then they brought it out to the table. It was an Ysalami! No wonder he was cut off from the force. He felt the barrier between him and the force grow less and less as the family would cut slices off of it and eat them. Almost! The father finally ate the very last bit of it, patted his stomach, belched with contentment, and declared “Ho mangiato bene!” At this moment, Skywalker felt all his abilities return to him. He quickly pulled his lightsaber over, switched it on with the force, and used it to cut his bonds. The Tuscan raiders all cowered in fear as Luke cut their dining table in half, sending plates full of garlic bread, pitchers of wine, and bottles of olive oil clattering to the floor. They were still stunned and motionless
when Skywalker ran from their dwelling and made good his escape.
On the way out of the planet’s atmosphere, Luke felt a great
sense of relief. When he had asked Yoda about identifying good and
evil, he had said “You will know”, but appearances could sometimes
deceive even a Jedi Master. There was much to be learned from his
visit to this place and he lapsed into a state of meditation.