Sequel to: The End of Our Long Day

Chapter One

His whole life feels like a puzzle where a quarter of the pieces were left in the box, and a third of what's left make up another picture than the one he's supposed to see. Ben doesn't have words for this when he is still a small child, and his frustrations destroy his toys, his computers, and once, half the apartment where they live. He hates not knowing.

His parents are the first things in his personal universe which do not fit, and which he can't understand. Later, he learns the chasm of difference between his royal mother and his knave of a father. Early on, he can tell entire worlds of conversation pass over him, significance in a smile or a muttered sigh. He grows into confusion.

"You did great," says his father when Ben brings home another school project with the highest marks. He claps Ben on the shoulder with encouragement.

When his mother returns home, she makes a sad face, half-smiling, and she's not as pleased. "That's a good grade, but I wish you'd worked harder on that."

"Don't knock it, Leia," says his father, and Ben worries they're going to quarrel again. "He's going to have perfect grades this year if he keeps this up."

"I know." She looks at her son, and Ben can't help but squirm under her gentle stare. "You're very smart, Ben. I know that. You need to learn that smart won't get you everywhere. You also have to work hard." She takes his project. "I like the way you wrote this up, but you know that's exactly what the teacher wanted you to write."

"So?" Ben was so proud when he showed his father the project. Now he's angry at himself, and at his teacher. "She made it too easy. The other kids are stupid."

"I don't think that's true. I'd like you to work on this again, just for me. I think you can do a better job."

"He doesn't need extra homework. He's doing fine."

"He could be doing much higher level work, Han. He just needs to be challenged." There's that quarrel. Ben snatches the project from his mother's hand and storms back to his own room. He doesn't like this new apartment, away from the nice double-sized unit they lived in when he was little. He doesn't like that Chewbacca doesn't live with them any more, or his uncle. He doesn't like the other children in this building, or the class he attends with them.

Mother says he's smart. He doesn't feel smart as he tears the paper into pieces and throws them on his floor.

The Administrator's office is the last place he wants to be. Both his parents are here. His mother had to leave session early and his father had to cut short a supply run to Joralla. He will be hearing about this afterwards, and the knowledge makes him sink deeper into his chair.

"Senator, I want you to know we all love Ben here." A lie. He's getting better at spotting them. The Administrator only sees Ben when another teacher has sent him to the office. Half his teachers are frightened of him after what he accidentally did to the windows. It wasn't a big deal. They got replaced within a few days. He's sure the other kids whisper about him when he's not looking. He can feel their stares. For a couple of them, he can almost hear their thoughts.

The idea makes him smile inside. He's always had powers, but mind powers? Those are the coolest Jedi abilities.

"I'm sure," says his mother, here in the present and unable to read Ben's thoughts. "You didn't call us both here to tell us you like him." Mother is a politician, capable of telling people to go to hell while convincing them they're agreeing to a long holiday on a tropical planet. She's also capable of being very direct.

"We don't feel the school is a good fit for him."

Father is always quick to take Ben's side. Today is no exception. "Listen, he's a great kid. I know he's had a few problems, but you can't just kick him out because he's special."

Ben doesn't like that word. 'Different' is more direct. Ben is different. None of his classmates can levitate the desks. None of them have perfect scores on every test.

"Captain Solo, I would love to be able to educate your son. He's a treasure." Another lie. "I can't. We can't. He's exceptionally bright, but he's bored. No child should be able to have as high marks as he does."

"Then promote him," Mother says. "Give him higher level work."

"We've tried that. He also received perfect marks on the advanced work."

Ben sits back, proud again. He's a genius. He knows it. Maybe they'll send him to a special genius school.

The Administrator says, "We know he's cheating, but I'm afraid we can't determine how."

Embarrassment stomps him to the floor, and he rises from his seat, fists raised. "I didn't cheat! I don't cheat! You're lying!"

His father's hand is instantly on his arm, but it's the sharp pressure of the wind knocked from his lungs that pushes him back to his chair. Mother hasn't moved from her seat. "Sit down," she says quietly but Ben can't move at all until she lets him.

She says, "That's a very serious allegation. I'll accept your determination of the facts, but I don't believe it's true." She glances at Ben, whose face is burning and whose heart is racing, and whose mind is clawing at the invisible bands holding him still. "Ben is still learning to use his powers. We've known for some time he's prescient and we believe he's learning to read minds."

The Administrator's face loses its cool demeanor. "You didn't think to tell the school?"

Father says, "We didn't know he'd gotten there yet. His uncle didn't start reading minds until he was in his twenties."

That's another piece Ben didn't know, and he grabs it greedily. Mother and Father don't talk about Uncle Luke often. When Ben was small, he came to visit often. When he thinks back hard enough, he remembers his uncle even lived with them in the old apartment. Uncle Luke has gone off to learn more Jedi lore and to seek out Force sensitives like Ben and his mother, and he rarely visits now.

His uncle is a key, Ben realizes, seeing the expressions crawl over the Administrator's face. In his absence, Luke Skywalker's legend is growing: he destroyed the first Death Star with a wave of his hand, and he slew Darth Vader and the Emperor with barely a word. Ben's parents say the stories aren't true. But they won't tell him what is true. He's been trying to sort out what really happened, and who is uncle is, and why he left, for as long as he can remember. There's so much Ben wants to know.

The Administrator's face settles into calm, but Ben can read the fear underlining each word. "We have started the process to remove Ben from the school. If there's another placement you'd prefer, I would be happy to make the connections. I do have a few recommendations." A paper is placed on the desk and shoved towards Ben's parents.

"I don't have to go to school any more?"

"You're going to school," Father says.

The Administrator looks at Ben's mother. "The other children are frightened of him. I'm sorry."

"Thank you for your time," Mother says, and she leaves without taking the recommendation list. Ben and his father follow her. While they spoke, someone has cleaned out Ben's desk and left his papers and supplies in a box by the office door.

"They're dumb anyway," Ben says, picking up his box. "I can learn more on my own."

"You are going to school," Father repeats. "This school. They can't just remove you without warning."

"We'll hire a tutor," Mother says. She makes a sad face at Ben. "A droid. You can't read droids, even by accident."

Ben can destroy droids.

The hologram of his uncle flickers. "Are you sure?"

"No," Father says.

Mother says, "I think it's the best idea. We've been over every other possibility. I can take a sabbatical and work with him myself, but I can't teach him how to control his gifts."

Ben isn't supposed to be listening. He long ago figured out how to change the settings on his computers to allow him unlimited access to any camera he wants. Mother doesn't often remember to shut down the vid cam on her own computer after she's finished meetings.

He's drinking in the sight of his uncle. The few photographs they have are old, from when Uncle Luke and Ben's mother were barely out of their teens. Ben doesn't have enough memories of his uncle to form a more coherent picture in his mind. The man looks older than his thirty-five years, older than Mother who is his twin. The Force changes you, Ben thinks. That and living on a desert world for half your life.

Father says, "I don't think we should send him away."

"Don't think of it like you're sending him away," says Uncle Luke. "You're right. If he's developing his powers this fast, he needs to learn to use them wisely. In the old days, Jedi were trained from infancy."

"You weren't. Leia wasn't."

"I don't know how to use my powers, Han. Ben could be a great Jedi." She takes Father's arm, and looks at her brother. "Do you think you can train him?"

"I hope so. The school is just getting off the ground. I have a few students, and more are arriving as I find time to collect them."

Father rolls his eyes. "We talked about you not starting cults, Luke."

Uncle Luke laughs warmly. "I'll do my best, thanks, Han." Something in the way they stand changes. His uncle says, "It'll be nice to have him here. I've missed watching him grow."

"Well," says Father, "you could always come back to..."

Mother interrupts him. "Han and Chewie will bring Ben in a few days. Give them your coordinates." She offers a sweet, genuine smile. "Maybe this will convince you to contact us more often. You don't have to move back to Coruscant, but I've missed talking with you."

"We'll both call home all the time when he's here," his uncle says. "Han, see you soon."

Leaving. He's leaving, and he's going to live with his uncle the famous Jedi. Even before his parents come to his room to tell him, Ben starts to pack.

Father tries to talk with him during the voyage. Chewbacca leaves them in peace. He's never forgiven Ben for the time Ben accidentally set part of his fur ablaze.

"If you don't like it, you don't have to stay. You can come home." It's eerily close to what he tried to say to Uncle Luke. Ben suspects his father is jealous. He and his mother and his uncle have powers. Father doesn't.

"I want to go. Uncle Luke can train me to be a Jedi Knight."

"Yeah." Father sits back. "You know Luke never finished his own training. Master Yoda trained him for a little while. He's picked up a lot on his own." His face goes through a number of emotions. Ben has heard stories of what happened on Bespin, and why his uncle's training was cut short. Darth Vader tortured Ben's father and encased him in carbonite, and Uncle Luke felt it, and stopped his studies to come to Father's rescue.

Ben hopes he's as Force sensitive some day. He hopes his own training isn't truncated by his father's needs.

He can't wait to begin.

"Hey, you want to fly the old girl for a while?"

"Sure." Ben learned the controls of the Falcon when he was eight years old. At almost twelve, he feels he's mastered the technique. He can't quell the excitement he feels when Father allows him the pilot's seat.

"Like this," Father says, as if Ben doesn't already know.

They soar through space together, Ben flying towards his future.

The planet is nothing like Coruscant. Instead of gleaming lights, half the world shrouds itself in darkness every night. Instead of comfortable buildings outfitted with electricity and kitchens and soft beds, Uncle Luke and his young apprentices sleep in simple structures they have built themselves, and eat only the grim supplies dropped off by the occasional transport and whatever they can grow on their own.

"How do you watch vids?" Ben asks, as he carries his bags into the small cabin he will share with three others.

"We don't get many transmissions out here," Uncle Luke explains. "We've got generators for the power we need, but it takes too much energy to send and receive regular signals."

"I could bring you more generators," Father says, looking around with mild distaste.

"We don't need them. If we do, I'll bring more."

It's primitive, and stinks of wildlife. Ben learns the itch of biting insects and the constant strain of unfamiliar pollens on his sinuses, and he dreams of clean sheets and new clothes. He has a flash of this as he hugs his father good-bye and waves to Chewie. There's an exchange between his father and uncle he cannot read at all. They don't hug, though Chewie takes Uncle Luke into a giant embrace.

"Call whenever you want," Father tells him. "Your mother is gonna miss you like crazy, and so am I."

"I will," Ben says, and he doesn't know he's lying.

The other apprentices don't know what to make of him at first. Everyone has been the new arrival, but Ben has known about his powers since birth. He's a natural. The day he arrives, he expects to help train the other students as part of his own studies. In fact, shortly after the Millennium Falcon soars away, Uncle Luke pats Ben on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're here. We can really use your help."

He shows Ben the shovels.

"Are we using these to practice lightsaber battles?" Ben's dreamed about the hum of his own magical sword warming his hands as he fights imaginary bad guys.

"No. We need to move the latrines. It's been three months." Uncle Luke explains in further biodegradable detail as he hands out the shovels to the rest of the apprentices, keeping one for himself.

Ben stares. "You're joking." He doesn't want to take the shovel. "That's for droids."

"The only droid here is R2, and he doesn't dig holes or cook." A series of beeps erupts from the astromech, which Ben doesn't understand but suspects is a list of other tasks R2 doesn't do. Threepio has a similar list back home.

"Why can't we use the Force to dig new holes?"

Uncle Luke sets his own shovel on the ground point down, and rests his hands on the handle. "All right. Why don't you give it a try?"

Ben is aware of the other apprentices watching him curiously. He affects to ignore them and walks casually over to a spot.

"Not there," says Uncle Luke. "Our well water is too close." He nods to a location about ten meters away.

Ben changes his course and stands where his uncle indicated. Telekinesis has always been one of his gifts. Shifting dirt shouldn't be difficult. He closes his eyes and reaches into that place inside his head where the power slumbers like a great beast. As he tries to tap into the Force, he becomes more sensate of the planet around him, feels the heart rate and respiration of his fellow students, even hears the microscopic noise of the servos in his uncle's false hand as he taps absently on the handle of his shovel.

The dirt refuses to move.

He tries, and keeps trying. Behind him, he's sure the other apprentices are laughing to themselves. As the hole refuses to grow, Ben is certain his uncle the great Jedi is disappointed. Ben will be sent home. Heat climbs his neck and face. A single clump of mud rises and crumbles.

He feels a hand on his arm. Uncle Luke says, "Good try. Now let's get this dug up before dinner." Ben turns angrily, but no one is laughing. The others have gathered their shovels and are waiting for him to move out of the way. After a moment, he grabs his own shovel and begins digging, still angry with himself.

"Lesson one," says Uncle Luke, already grimy. "You can use the Force for many reasons to do many things, but most of the time, the best thing you can do is use your own hands."

His hands bleed with blisters by the end of the day. His uncle has a healing salve and a few calm words that help the skin repair. "I'm sorry you didn't have a fun first day. I've been waiting for the weather to clear enough for us to dig. Tomorrow will be better."

Ben sleeps soundly, worn out and dreaming of all the exciting lessons he's about to learn.

Half of his lessons are in old books. Uncle Luke scoured the galaxy for remnants. The Empire burned or stole all the Jedi lore they could after the slaughter of the order. Rather than well-kept and updated text reels, Ben must squint at faded print in tomes and scrolls locked up and forgotten for decades, none of which are complete. One book is a scrap of history, another teaches food preparation.

They spend hours a day in meditation, which Ben loathes. He doesn't want to waste his time sitting still, not when he can be learning to fight.

"You have to find your inner self before you can unlock your potential."

"It's boring."

"Then allow yourself to be bored and see where it takes you."

Half of Uncle Luke's lessons sound deep. The other half sound like ridiculous pap he makes up on the spot. Ben changes his mind again and again as to which is which.

When they begin what Ben thinks of as the true Jedi training, he's relieved. This is why he's here: to learn to control and use his powers. Books and sitting around are for hermits. That's fine for someone like his uncle, who is old and done with being part of things. Ben knows just enough about the Jedi knights to see himself as one, active in galactic politics like his mother but far more direct in his interventions. She can write treaties. He'll enforce them.

Bolstered by this plan, he sits with the younger apprentices who've arrived more recently, watching his uncle demonstrate a simple Force exercise by catching a ball without looking. Ben remembers this, almost, from when he was very small and Uncle Luke still came to visit.

"Break into pairs. Take turns closing your eyes and catching. If you can't keep them closed, I've got blindfolds."

Ben pairs up with a boy named Marl. Finally he gets a chance to show what he can do, even if it is a baby game. "Throw it," he says, squeezing his eyes shut.

The ball hits him hard on the shoulder. It hurts!

"Bad throw, sorry," says Marl, closing his own eyes. "Throw it back."

Ben tosses the ball a little to Marl's side. Marl's hand snakes out without a pause, snatching the ball from the air. "Okay, now you catch."

Ben does catch this one. He manages to catch six of Marl's ten throws. Marl doesn't miss any. Every time he drops the ball, Ben grows more frustrated. "You're throwing it wrong."

"You're not paying attention to yourself," Marl says in a calm voice Ben thinks is more than a little snotty. "You have to feel the ball coming towards you."

After a few more throws, Ben's got the rhythm. He senses Marl's arm, which gives him a good idea where the ball will go. He tries throwing the ball farther and farther when it's his turn to toss. His partner catches the ball easily each time, until he has to dive for the last one. Ben frowns as that throw lands right in Marl's blue hand.

"When are we going to learn something useful?" Ben asks. He's done playing this game.

"Every skill is useful," says his uncle walking by. Ben suspects this is one of the sayings Uncle Luke just made up. Luke pauses, and casts a glance to a place where no one is standing. "Enough of that, both of you."

Ben follows his eyes. "Both of who?"

Marl says, "You don't see them yet? It's okay. You will."

New apprentices arrive every couple of weeks. There's a pilot who's about his uncle's age who is helping to identify Force-sensitive people, both children and adults. Some come to the school to see what Uncle Luke is teaching. Some leave again shortly after they arrive, not interested in the privations and long path promised by someone who didn't complete his own training.

The pilot is also a half-trained Jedi. Ben learns this when Ezra grabs a ball out of the air as he watches one of the training exercises.

"You could stay," Luke says, as Ezra throws the ball to a blindfolded little girl who jumps up and catches it.

"Not my style. I've already had one Master."

"I was thinking you would make a good teacher. You're much better at it than I am."

Ezra smiles. "We all save the galaxy in our own way. You show the younglings how not to blow themselves up with their own brains, then send them back to me and I'll show them how to dodge blasters."

Ben thinks Ezra's class sounds far more interesting than learning to perform one-handed balance postures, but Ezra drops off his latest set of new pupils, has a brief chat with empty air, and blasts off again.

Everything is a test. Every day is more studying. Every week, someone new arrives gifted in the Force, and most of them stay to learn. Ben has been here for nearly a year when Uncle Luke asks the small group of apprentices Ben shares his lessons with to join him on a long walk. They take no food, walking for hours deep into the forest until they reach a point Ben can feel in his bones.

"What's here?" Jaya asks.

"I've never been able to figure that out. I'm hoping some of you will someday. For now, we're going through exercises."

None of the others grumble. Ben has learned to keep his annoyance on the inside. They work through some basic levitation skills and blindfolded identification of movement as Luke releases small drones for them to catch with their bare hands. Nothing they haven't done before.

"Now," he says, shutting down the drones, "we're going to create some projections."

He demonstrates the blue ball projection. Ben has a memory of this from very long ago. He gets excited. This is a test, and he knows what comes after the journey. Their group will be promoted to the next level. The same thing happened to another small group a few months ago, and they're allowed to practice with lightsabers almost every day.

The apprentices spread out.

"Force projection is a useful tool. You can send a message, or distract a foe. It's hard to master, though. Don't be disappointed if you're not successful. I mess it up frequently myself, and I've been practicing for years."

There's a look shared among their little group. The levity isn't fooling anyone.

"I want you to focus in your mind. Create an image before yourself: a single blue ball, about a tenth of a meter wide."

"Any particular shade of blue?" Marl asks.

"Any blue you want. About a tenth of a meter, right in front of yourself."

Eyes close. Ben's the are the last. This is simple. He did this as a baby. He touches his power and instantly feels his hands tingle. The Force projection is cobalt blue, and he can construct it much larger than the small blue orbs he can sense in front of the other students. He grows the ball to a meter, then grows it to encircle the whole group. If Force projections are about showing what he can do with his power, Ben intends to be the best.

Uncle Luke checks around them, taking note of each small orb in front of each apprentice, and gives a smile at the blue surrounding them. "And we're done. Nice shades of blue, everyone. Jaya, I think yours was green."

Jaya says, "I would argue the delineation between blue and green is not especially clear cut. I like that shade of blue best."

They walk back together, chatting more easily. Everyone can tell the test went well, and they are ready for their next level of training. Ben's pleased with himself. His Force projection was well-defined and bright blue, and huge. Even Paolo looked impressed, and he's had hardly anything to do with Ben. It's a good feeling to walk home with them all. Uncle Luke is quiet, but he spends a lot of time in silent contemplation.

The next morning, their group eats breakfast quickly, ready to join the next level training. As they walk over, Luke says, "Ben, I could use your help on something."

"Sure." He keeps his eyes away from where the others are already being shown how to unlock the lightsaber case by the more experienced apprentices. Uncle Luke calls them Padawans, though he says the term doesn't have much meaning without Jedi Masters ready to take them on as pupils.

"I'd like you to help out with the younglings while I'm working with the Padawan group. Can you walk them through some of their exercises?"

He often asks some of the older students to work with the newer children. Even now, Laysa is at the reading tables with a group working through an old book. Yesterday, Ben would have jumped at the chance to show the younglings what to do. Today, his friends are already breaking into groups for sparring.

"Fine," he says with bad grace. "Come on, kids. Let's toss the ball around."

"Thank you," says his uncle, placing his false hand on Ben's shoulder.

Ben spends most of the day herding little kids, when he could be learning Jedi skills. Uncle Luke comes in the afternoon to teach them, but asks Ben to join the reading group.

It takes him until dinner to work up enough annoyance, and he waits impatiently until everyone has broken into their groups for the evening. He follows Luke back to his own small cabin.

"I want to talk to you."

"Of course. Come on in."

Ben's been in here before several times. The transmitter he uses to contact home is in this cabin, and the few books his uncle considers his personal collection are stored here for anyone to borrow and read and return. He has a desk, where he fills new books with notes and keeps a small computer to make more permanent records. He has a small bed that doesn't look any more comfortable than the cot Ben sleeps on. And that's all. No pictures, not of Ben's family or any friends, and no trinkets to put him in mind of home or old times. It's an empty place.

Some nights, Ben misses his bed, and his games, and the posters on his wall, and the smell of his mother's hair, and the sounds of the city around them. He wonders if his uncle misses those things, or if when you become a Jedi, you stop caring.

"Sit down." Ben takes the chair. His uncle sits on his cot. "Want to talk about it?"

"You passed me over. The others were promoted. I'm working with children."

"Yes."

"Why?" He's angry again, buzzing inside his own head.

"You didn't pass the test. Your classmates did. You'll have more chances when you've learned a little more. It's not a competition."

"Jaya is three years younger than I am."

"I know. And she passed the test."

"I made your stupid blue ball. Mine was bigger than everyone else's. I've got plenty of power."

Luke sighs. "Ben, it's not about power. I know you have power. Believe me. When you were a toddler, you threw the table across the room twice."

He's heard this story. Uncle Luke moved out shortly after. He's always wondered if the events were related. "So you know I can do this."

"Of course I do. You created a giant ball, much larger than everyone else's. But it isn't what I asked you to do. Part of learning to use your powers will be learning to use them safely and in moderation. You don't want to use the Force as a hammer at a time when you need a key."

"Then show me how to make the key and the hammer both. I came here for you to teach me, not to read from some old books and do handstands with five year olds."

Luke smiles wanly. "So impatient."

"I'm not!"

"I wasn't talking about you just then." He glancing into a corner of the room again. "It's not as funny as you think," he says to someone Ben is sure isn't there.

Sorrow grips his chest. "You don't want me here."

"What do you mean?"

"My parents didn't know what to do with me, so they sent me to come live here, but you don't want me, either. Fine."

Ben stands in his chair, but Luke is faster, and takes his hand, and gently but firmly sits him down again. "That isn't true. I have longed for you to come here. I set up this school in anticipation that I would be able to train you someday."

Ben goes looking for the lie, and can't find one. "That's stupid," he says, flailing for anything that will hit.

"Maybe. I prefer the term 'foolish,' but you can blame your namesake for that."

He has so many questions now. He's heard stories about General Kenobi, but his mother never met the man, and his father only met him for a day and a half. "You knew him, didn't you?"

"I did. Not as well as I wanted to. He died not long after we met. But the day you were born, I couldn't think of a better name to give you than his." He squeezes Ben's hand. "I am so glad you are finally here, Ben. I've waited so long to get to know you."

"You never came to visit."

"I had a lot to do to get this place ready. I had a lot of students to meet." The truth floats on a sea of words Ben can't read in Luke's mind. "You're here now."

"But I'm not going to move to the next level."

"Not yet. Soon enough."

"Even though I'm more powerful than the other apprentices?"

"Even though. If it was just about power, your mother could wipe the floor with me. I tested her after we found out the truth, and in raw strength, the Force runs much stronger in her."

"But she doesn't use it very much."

"Leia's got other skills, and she prefers diplomacy. She doesn't want to be a Jedi. She tries not to use her powers because untrained Jedi are much easier to sway to the Dark Side. Anyone can tap into rage and fear. I've seen her angry, and I've seen her afraid. She knows better than to unleash that on the galaxy."

He starts to ramble, but old people do that sort of thing. "In the old days, Jedi used to remove small children from their families to train them when they were very young in order to keep them safe from themselves. I tried training you when you were a baby. I wasn't very good at it. Ben, Obi-Wan I mean, he said that was the problem with our father. He started too late."

"That's why he died," Ben says.

Uncle Luke looks confused. "Yes, eventually."

"I've looked this up. Mother has a lot of research on your parents. Grandmother was the elected Queen of Naboo. Grandfather was a Jedi Knight. He died during the purge of the order. If he'd had more training when he was younger, maybe he could have fought back."

Uncle Luke asks, "Where did you hear that story?"

"It's in the official records. Anakin Skywalker died at the Jedi Temple right before you and Mother were born."

There's something. It's written on Uncle Luke's face. "I suppose that's true from a certain point of view."

He knows that phrase. It's something his whole family uses to mean 'a big fat lie.' "He didn't die at the Jedi Temple?" Uncle Luke shakes his head. "What happened?"

Luke tells him.