The Good Sith Lord

(note- I read this story during a church service, complete with sound effects and power point)

The engines were fried. Despite all their best efforts, the blasted things just wouldn't start. They had tried every trick in the book. And they had written the book. Repairs, scraps, jerry rigging, these were the things they were best at. And despite all their best efforts, they were stranded, floating in space.

It was supposed to be a routine run. Twelve of them were to run a lot of questionably obtained scrap to their buyers on another planet. They knew the ship they had taken was not the most reliable cargo vessel, but it had always pulled through. And what Jawa couldn’t fix something by using scraps? It would be an affront to their species if they couldn’t! If you found something you couldn’t rig up to work, you might as well be dead.

And that would be put to the test before too long. Life support was running out. The difficult part of their situation was that they had chosen a path that was not well traveled, something they had to do based on their unpopular methods of acquiring their scrap.  They knew they had about 8 hours left. They had reluctantly sent out a distress signal. They knew that Jawas were not especially loved, merely tolerated by most races. But perhaps somebody would be feeling generous today. All that was left to do was……..wait.

“R2? What are we picking up?”

R2-D2 responds. (sound effects were used)

“Look, you know I can’t ever understand your beeps and whistles, I just pretend I do when I think other people might be around. I want them to think I am not just some joker, but am actually pretty smart.”

R2-D2 responds again.

“I may not be able to understand your sounds, but I know that was an insult. Just translate it for me!”

Luke Skywalker looked at the display screen in his X-Wing. R2 was feeding and translating the message Luke was receiving.

“R2, it seems to be some type of distress signal!!”

R2 responds

“I see, it is from a disabled Jawa cargo ship. I feel bad about this R2, but we just can’t spare the time. I would help them if I could, but we are on a very important mission for the Rebels. Every minute counts! Hopefully somebody else will come along.”

Luke powered up his X-Wing fighter and shot quickly away from the distress signal and the guilt that he had started to feel.

Hours passed. The Jawas were starting to get desperate. They thought they had picked up a small ship on their radar, but it disappeared quickly. Perhaps it had been nothing. Either way, it didn’t really matter. Whoever it was, if there was anyone, was not interested in helping a ship full of dirty little jawas.

“Chewie! Now what’s wrong? Is this stupid piece of junk shorting out again??”

Chewie roars (sound effects were used)

“What do you mean you pick up another ship? There can’t be anyone else out here you walking carpet!”

Chewie noise

“A Jawa ship? And they need our help? Ha! No chance I’m helping out those walking scabs. nothing but parasites if you ask me. The only good Jawa is a dead one!”

Chewie roars in approval.

“Besides, we have to catch up with Luke to stop him from making out with his sister!”

Chewie responds

“That’s not funny! Yeah, go on, laugh it up furball!!”

There were now only 2 hours left. There was no one to call for help. Even if they could get through to Tattoine, it would have taken too long for somebody to reach them. They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and some of the more optimistic Jawas had tried one last time to repair the ship. It was useless. The damage was too great for even their most talented. Now they just settled down to die.

Suddenly their radio crackled to life!

They were getting a signal!

“Hmm. Listening is anyone?” ( I did my Yoda voice)

The Jawas looked at each other in confusion.

“Hearing me I know you can. Helping is wanted by ears listening, yes?”

The Jawas were thoroughly confused and didn’t know how to respond to this seeming gibberish.

“Dead perhaps they all are. Knowing I am not.”

The Jawas desperately tried to communicate to this strange being, begging for help.

“Hmm. Jawas are you. Yes. Yoda will advice give you to. Yoda help could, yes. But Jawas need to learn that helping is best discovered, inside of those in helping in need the most of is available. Thank me you will later.”

The Jawas hung their heads in despair, not fully understanding what was said, but catching enough of the message to know they were not going to be saved. They all finally accepted their fates and prepared to die. Their air was running out. There was no one left to save them. Every single one of them had blacked out except one. He looked sadly at his companions, his family, and laid down his head to die. He had just closed his eyes when he felt the ship begin to move. With the renewed strength of hope, he lifted his eyes. To his horror, he saw an Imperial Star Destroyer dwarfing his tiny ship. Somehow everything had gotten worse. Not only were they still going to die, they would most likely be tortured first.

The Jawa was barely conscious when the door of their vessel was opened. Even though he was nearly dead, the sound he heard chilled him to the bone. Everyone in the galaxy knew that distinctive breathing and the voice that followed.

“Tend… to their needs….”

The jawa was shocked to find that he was opening his eyes. Somehow he was alive!! He sat up, looking around, trying to figure out how this had happened. The rest of his companions were still unconscious. He unsteadily rose to his feet. He saw a light blinking on the console. A message was waiting for him. Slowly he made his way over to the command center of the ship and retrieved the message.
It was from Darth Vader.

“Dear little Jawas,

Please find your ship fully prepared and stocked for your long journey. I have personally seen that all of you have been fully healed as well. You owe me nothing. This one is on the empire.

Best wishes,

Your ol’ friend Darth”