Star Wars - Kenobi

open door. “Magda! Call for help!”
    It was too late. With Langer incapacitated, the advance pair easily reached the house. The stockier assailant kicked in the side door and threw something inside. A flash—and seconds later smoke poured from the building.
    Coughing, an elderly woman stumbled outside into the waiting gloved hands of the raiders. Terrified, she wailed in their grip. “Wyle! Wyle!”
    “I’m coming, Maggie!” Ulbreck yelled. But he could go nowhere with the shots peppering the deck. When they did pause, it was only because the shooters were charging down from the ridge, bellowing a war cry. The old farmer struggled to reach his feet, but the smaller of the attackers was upon him, swinging his rifle like a club. The butt of the weapon struck the old man in the nose. Ulbreck howled in pain and hit the deck hard, his face bleeding.
    Magda Ulbreck screamed as the invaders dragged her before the house, in sight of her injured husband. The leader of the foursome set down his rifle and drew a knife from his bandolier. Rusty blade flashing in the moonlight, the robed figure loomed menacingly over Ulbreck.
    Magda screamed again. But even in agony, her husband remained defiant. “You cussed things couldn’t kill me at the Claim! I won’t beg now!”
    The knife wielder nodded. This response was expected. Ulbreck would remain defiant, they all knew, until his wife was threatened. The attackers would turn on Magda, and scare her. They might do some cosmetic harm for effect; it would be worse than that if she fought.
    But both Ulbrecks would remain alive, chastened and terrified. And if the harrowing night didn’t convince Wyle Ulbreck of the error of his ways, Magda certainly would.
    It would go entirely according to plan. It had worked before, elsewhere.
    Perfect.
    Except for the figure leaping down from the top of the covered porch.
    Boots landed squarely on the leader’s shoulders, knocking him back off his feet. The knife flew from his hand as he struck the ground, and his night-vision goggles twisted sideways beneath the Tusken head wrappings. For moments, he could see nothing at all; he heard only a struggle, all around.
    Shifting the goggles so he could at least see with one eye, the leader tumbled over, desperately trying to reach the rifle on the ground. But the man who had pounced from above was already fighting Magda’s former captors. Former, because the woman had fallen free when the figure in light tan charged. He stood between her and them now, quickly dodging one lumbering gaderffii swing after another.
    He leapt. He ducked. And in one more lightning move, he caught one of the weapons. He flipped backward, taking the gaderffii with him. Touching down, he bounded back into the fray with it. The now-weaponless raider tumbled backward, somehow—it didn’t even look like a wrong step, to the leader’s only available eye—leaving the other marauder to fight on. Gaderffii clashed loudly, metal sparking in the night.
    With energy belying her age, Magda scrambled past. The smallest of the invaders, captivated by the nearby combat, did nothing as she collected her bleeding husband and helped him toward the garages, and escape. While the Ulbrecks fled, the lead attacker at last found the errant rifle. He tried to draw a bead on the dueling rescuer, but again his facial wrappings were askew, preventing it.
    Ahead, the gaderffii duel drew to a close. The Ulbrecks’ would-be hero caught his opponent under the arm with the flange of the weapon, producing a high-pitched—and very human—squeal.
    Enough! The lead invader ripped off his bandages and night-vision goggles and raised his rifle. Eyes unfettered at last, Orrin Gault looked into the face of the Ulbrecks’ savior.
    Ben Kenobi.
    Orrin stared in the darkness, unbelieving for a second. “You?”
    Then he fired.
    Ben spun, somehow using the gaderffii to deflect the shot. The bolt sizzled past Orrin to strike one of the porch supports, right above the head of the smallest would-be Tusken. Startled, the boy turned to run. “Come on, Orrin!”
    Orrin fired again.
    Behind Ben, Orrin saw the other two invaders standing, one helping the other. When Ben deflected the second blaster shot, they started to move toward him.
    Ben turned to look back. “Don’t try it, Mullen,” he said. “Masquerade’s over.”
    On the far side of Orrin, a dome opened. The Ulbreck repulsortruck peeled out, Magda at the controls. The vehicle swerved violently