Star Wars - Kenobi

thought,” Ben said, turning. A determined look on his face, he left Orrin’s side and reached for one of Gloamer’s big fire extinguisher canisters. “Hold the fort,” he said as he disappeared around the corner into the pass-through.
    Orrin’s jaw dropped. Is the man crazy?
    “Ben!” Annileen yelled. Heedless of the incoming blasterfire, she dived across the garage floor to Orrin’s side. “Ben’s unarmed,” she yelled to Orrin. “We’ve got to follow him!”
    “No,” Orrin said, clutching at her sleeve. “Wait. Look here!”
    Annileen glanced for an instant at the security monitor—and then looked again at it, gawking alongside Orrin. There, in the overhead view of the retail store, they saw what was occupying the Sand People. Old Ulbreck had wedged himself behind the collapsed rifle racks and the weapons counter and was using the full arsenal at hand to keep the Tuskens at bay!
    “Well, I’ll be,” Orrin said, bringing the cam into focus on the old man. “I’ll be blasted!”
    “So will he,” Annileen said. “He can’t hold out much longer!” More Tuskens were entering the store from the front entrance and the livery yard. She tugged at Orrin. “We’ve got to—”
    At that moment the scene on the monitor began to cloud up. The blasterfire could still be seen—and then just light. Blue light, flashing around in a haze. Orrin shook his head, unbelieving. What’s happening in there?
    Annileen broke loose from his hold and dashed into the hallway. Orrin looked back at the others in the garage. “Hold ’em off! I’ll be back!” he shouted.
    Orrin ran through the short hallway. He skidded to a stop when he saw Annileen ahead, just standing there, her ankles lost in a lowering cloud of chemical retardant. The haze inside was still thick, but the flashing blue lights had stopped. And in place of the many combatants seen on the monitor earlier, only one figure stood now amid the smashed tables of the luncheonette: Ben. Standing over the bodies of a dozen or more Sand People, his hand slipped inside his tunic, as casually as if he were putting away his credit pouch.
    A familiar old and now very weary voice came through the mist from Orrin and Annileen’s right. Wyle Ulbreck popped out from behind the gun counter, repeating blaster rifle in hand. “Die, you wretched—”
    Ben stepped quickly between the old farmer and the newcomers. “It’s all right, Master Ulbreck. It’s just friends here.” He gestured to the fallen Sand People. “You got them all.”
    Orrin looked at the bodies, stunned, and then up at Ben. The man had a canny look on his face. “Wyle did all this?”
    Suddenly self-conscious, Ben stammered. “I, uh—saw what he was up against.” He gestured to the spent canister, nearby. “He just needed a little distraction so he could finish the job.”
    Annileen looked dumbfounded. At Ben, then at Ulbreck, and finally at the mess of a store. “I’m speechless,” she said.
    Orrin looked at the old man, coughing as he staggered out from behind his makeshift fortress. “I woke up and these characters were coming in,” Ulbreck said, eyes wandering in tired amazement. “I don’t rightly know how I got ’em all—”
    “But you did,” Ben quickly offered. “Every one. All on your own.”
    Orrin shook his head. Old Ulbreck would be telling this story for years. Orrin stepped over to try to help the frazzled man stand—only to have his effort rebuffed.
    “Lemme go, Gault!” Ulbreck snarled at him, suddenly fully aware again. “And you wanted to provide security for me? You can’t even keep your own spread safe!”
    Orrin’s breath caught in his throat. Yes, this surely looked bad. But the blasterfire was still going outside, and the other Tuskens might reenter at any minute. He prodded Ulbreck toward the center of the store, and the old man didn’t object.
    Annileen was in motion now. Stepping over bodies, she reached her counter.
    Ben saw her kneel and start to dig around. “What are you looking for?”
    “The cashbox!”
    Orrin raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think the Tuskens care much for credits.”
    Annileen ignored him. Finding the box beneath a smashed shelf, she slipped Dannar’s old pistol from its position in the lock. “Here,” she said, tossing the weapon to Ben.
    Orrin darted from one shelf to another, trying to stay out of sight of the doorways. There were Tuskens everywhere outside, and with the screen of the chemical fog dissipating,