I've decided to redo this.
In the original draft written by Leigh Brackett, Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader were different persons, and indeed Vader killed Anakin after turning to the dark side. Also, Anakin was supposed to be a force ghost that would help Luke. But then Brackett died (ironically a year after her husband) in 1978 and someone else took over the script. Much of the first chapter is based on the novel.
A long time ago...Hey, if it's a long time ago, how do they have lasers...We don't have lasers. Wait, yes we do. Point withdrawn...
"No. My father didn't fight in the wars. He was just a navigator on a spice freighter."
"That's what your uncle told you," Kenobi said, letting out a smile. "He didn't hold with your father's ideals, opinions, or with his philosophy of life. He believed that your father should have stayed here on Tatooine and not gotten involved. Well, he thought he should have remained here and minded his farming. Luke, you must not blame him. Owen was always afraid that your father's adventurous life might influence you, might pull you away from Anchorhead." He shook his head slowly, regretfully at the remembrance. "I'm afraid there wasn't much of the farmer in your father."
"You fought in the Clone War?" Luke asked.
"Yes," Kenobi acknowledged casually. "The war ended not long before you were born. I was once a Jedi Knight, the same as your father."
Luke said nothing, his body tense as the old man related bits and pieces of a personal history Luke had viewed only through his uncle's distortion. He turned away. He returned to cleaning the last particles of sand from Threepio's healing armature. Then he looked back at Kenobi. "I wish I'd known him," he finally whispered.
"He was the best star pilot in the galaxy," Kenobi went on, smiling, "and a cunning warrior. The Force...the instinct was strong in him." For a brief second Kenobi actually appeared old. "And he was a good friend."
Kenobi couldn't help but smile and remember those times. Good old times. Even when they acted like two schoolboys.
"I haven't seen you this nervous since we fell into that nest of gundarks," Obi-Wan said.
"You fell into that nightmare, Master," Anakin replied. "And I rescued you, remember?"
"Oh, yes," Obi-Wan chuckled, getting a smile from his Padawan.
A few years later, Obi-Wan, Anakin and Kie Vader, who would later become the dreaded Darth Vader, had rescued the Supreme Chancellor and Obi-Wan and Kie insisted that the "Hero with No Fear" had his 'glorious day with the politicians'.
"All right, but you two owe me one, and not just for saving your skins for the tenth time," Anakin relented.
"Ninth time," Vader reiterated.
"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed. "That business on Cato Nemoidia doesn't, doesn't count."
Anakin smiled at them.
Suddenly the boyish twinkle returned to those piercing eyes along with the old man's natural humor. "I understand you're quite a pilot yourself. Piloting and navigation aren't hereditary, but a number of the things that can combine to make a good small-ship pilot are. Things you may have inherited. Still, even an infant has to be taught to walk. In many ways, you know, you are much like your father." Kenobi's unabashed look of evaluation made Luke nervous, but his praise made him blush a bit. "You've grown up quite a bit since the last time I saw you."
Having no reply for that, Luke waited silently as Kenobi sank back into deep contemplation. After a while the old man stirred, evidently having reached an important decision.
"All this reminds me," he declared with deceptive casualness, "I have something for you." He rose and walked over to a bulky, old-fashioned chest and started rummaging through it. All sorts of intriguing items were removed and shoved around, only to be placed back in the bin. A few of them Luke recognized. As Kenobi was obviously intent on something important, he forbore inquiring about any of the other tantalizing flotsam.
"You're father wanted you to have this when you were old enough," Kenobi continued, "...if I can find the blasted thing. I tried to give it to you once before, but your uncle wouldn't allow it. He believed you might get some crazy ideas from it and end up following old Obi-Wan on some damn fool idealistic crusade like your father did. You see, Luke, that's where your father and your uncle Owen disagreed. Lars is not a man to let idealism interfere with business, whereas your father didn't think the question even worth discussing. His decision on such matters came like his piloting-instinctively. He kind of just did things rather than scheme up a plan."
Luke nodded. He finished picking out the last of the grit and looked around for one remaining component to snap back into Threepio's open chest plate. Locating the restraining module, he opened the receiving latches in the machine and set about locking it back into place. Threepio watched the process and appeared to wince ever so perceptibly.
Luke stared into those metal and plastic photo-receptors for a long moment. Then he set the module pointedly on the work-bench and closed the droid up. Threepio said nothing.
A grunt came from behind them, and Luke turned to see a pleased Kenobi walking over. He handed Luke a small, innocuous-looking device, which the youth studied with interest.
It consisted primarily of a short, thick hand grip with a couple of small switches set in the grip. Above the small post was a circular metal disk barely larger in diameter than his spread palm. A number of unfamiliar, jewel like components were built into both handle and disk, including what looked like the smallest power cell Luke had ever seen. The reverse side of the disk was polished to a mirror brightness. But it was the power cell that puzzled Luke the most. Whatever the thing was, it required a great deal of energy, according to the rating form of the cell.
Despite the claim that it had belonged to his father, the gizmo looked newly manufactured. Kenobi had obviously kept it carefully. Only a number of minute scratches on the hand grip hinted at previous usage.
"Sir?" Threepio said.
"Huh?"
"If you'll not be needing me," Threepio declared, "I think I'll shut down for a bit."
"Sure, go ahead," Luke said absently, returning to his fascinated study of the...the...whatever-it-was. Behind him, Threepio became silent, the glow fading temporarily from his eyes. Luke noticed that Kenobi was watching him with interest. "What is it?" he finally asked, unable despite his best efforts to identify it.
"Your father's lightsaber," Kenobi told him, handing it to the young lad. "At one time they were widely used. Still are, in certain galactic quarters."
Luke examined the controls on the handle, then tentatively touched a brightly colored button up the nar mirrored pommel. Instantly the disk put forth a blue-white beam as thick around as his thumb. It was dense to the point of opacity and a little over a meter in length. It did not fade, but remained as brilliant and intense at its far end as it did next to the desk. Strangely, Luke felt no heat from it, though he was very careful not to touch it. He knew what a lightsaber could do from the stories he heard from pilots, though he had never seen one before. It could drill a hole right through the wall of Kenobi's house-or through a human being.
As Luke twisted the blade this way and that, careful not to hit anything or himself, Kenobi continued.
"This was the formal weapon of a Jedi Knight," Kenobi explained. "Not as clumsy or random as a blaster. More skill than simple sight was required for its use. An elegant weapon for the more civilized age. It was a symbol as well. Anyone can use a blaster or fusion cutter-but to use a lightsaber well was a mark of someone a cut above the ordinary.
"For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the most powerful, most respected force in the galaxy. They served as the guardians and guarantors of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times...Before the empire..."
When Luke failed to ask what had happened to them since, Kenobi looked up to see that the youth was staring vacantly into space, having absorbed little if any of the oldster's instruction. Some men would have chided Luke for not paying attention. Not Kenobi. More sensitive than most, he waited patiently until the silence weighed strong enough on Luke for him to resume speaking. Turning off the lightsaber, he took a seat next to Kenobi.
"How," he asked slowly, "did my father die?"
Kenobi hesitated, and Luke sensed that the old man had no wish to talk about this particular matter. Anakin Skywalker was like a brother to him. A brother who had died in his arms on Coruscant all those years ago. Not really something someone would want to talk about. But unlike Owen Lars, however, Kenobi was unable to take refuge in a comfortable lie.
Tell him, a voice told Kenobi. He must know.
"A young Jedi named Darth Vader," Kenobi declared solemnly, "who was a pupil of mine until he turned to evil, helped the Empire hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights...One of my disciples...and one of my greatest failures...He betrayed and murdered your father."
Even as Luke was taking this information with sadness, Kenobi couldn't help but remember...
"I have failed you, Kie," Kenobi sadly admitted all those years ago. "I have failed you."
"I should have known the Jedi were plotting to take over!" Vader ranted, approaching his former Master.
"Kie, Chancellor Palpatine is evil!" Kenobi screamed.
"From my point of view, the Jedi are evil!" Vader retorted.
"Well, then you are lost!"
"Vader used the training I gave him and the Force within him for evil, to help the corrupt emperor. With the Jedi Knights disbanded, disorganized, or dead, there were few to oppose Vader. Today they are all but extinct."
An indecipherable expression crossed Kenobi's face. "In many ways they were too good, too trusting for their own health. They put too much trust in the stability of the Republic, failing to realize that while the body might be sound, the head was growing diseased and feeble, leaving it open to manipulation by people such as its own Supreme Chancellor, who would eventually declare himself the Emperor he is to this day.
"I wish I knew what Vader was after. Sometimes I have the feeling he is marking time in preparation for some incomprehensible abomination. Vader was seduced by the dark side of the Force."
Luke's face twisted in confusion. "The Force?"
Kenobi nodded, happy to change the subject. "I forget sometimes in whose presence I babble. The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. Let us say simply that the Force is something a Jedi must deal with. It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us, penetrates us, it binds the galaxy together."
Kenobi came over toward Artoo Detoo. The old man fiddled with its metal insides for a split second. "Now let's see if we can figure out what you are, my little friend, and where you came from."
"I saw part of the message," Luke began, "and I..."
The striking portrait of a young beautiful woman in white robes was projected into empty space from the front of the little droid. Luke broke off, enraptured by its enigmatic beauty once again.
"Yes, I seem to have found it," Kenobi murmured contemplatively.
The image continued to flicker, indicating a tape hastily prepared. But it was much sharper, better defined now, Luke noted with admiration. One thing was apparent: Kenobi was skilled in subjects more specific than desert scavenging.
"General Kenobi," the mellifluous voice was saying, "Years ago, you served my father in the Clone War. Now be begs you to help him in his struggle against the Empire. I regret that I am unable to present my father's request to you in person. But my ship has fallen under attack, and I'm afraid my mission to bring you Alderaan has failed. I have placed information vital to the survival of the rebellion into the memory systems of this R2 unit. My father will know how to retrieve it. You must see this droid safely delivered to him on Alderaan. This is our most desperate hour. Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."
A small cloud of tridimensional static replaced the delicate portrait, then it vanished entirely. Artoo Detoo gazed up expectantly at Kenobi.
Luke's mind was as muddy as a pond laced with petroleum by a man on a weekend drinking binge. Unanchored, his thoughts and eyes turned for stability to the quiet figure seated nearby.
The old man. The crazy wizard. The desert bum and all-around character whom his uncle and everyone else had known for a long as Luke could recall.
If the breathless, anxiety-ridden message the unknown woman had just spoken into the cool air of the hut had affected Kenobi in any way he gave no hint of it. Instead he leaned back against the wall and tugged thoughtfully at his beard.
"You must learn the ways of the Force, if you are to come with me to Alderaan."
"Alderaan!" Luke hopped off his seat, looking dazed. "I'm not going to Alderaan. I don't even know where Alderaan is." Vaporators, droids, harvest-abruptly the surroundings seemed to close in on him, the formerly intriguing furnishings and alien artifacts now just a mite frightening. He looked around wildly, trying to avoid the piercing gaze of Ben Kenobi...old Ben...crazy Ben...General Obi-Wan Kenobi.
"I've got to get back home," he found himself muttering thickly. "It's late. I'm in for it as it is."
"I need your help, Luke," Kenobi explained his manner a combination of sadness and steel. He nodded at Artoo Detoo. "She needs your help. I'm getting to old for this sort of thing."
"But...I can't get involved with anything like that," Luke protested. "I've got work to do; we've got crops to bring in-even though Uncle Owen could always break down and hire a little extra help. I mean, one, I guess. It's not that I like the Empire. I hate it. But there's nothing I can do about it. Not now. Besides, that's all such a long way from here. The whole thing is really none of my business."
"That's your uncle talking," Kenobi observed without rancor.
"Oh! My uncle, how am I ever going to explain this to him?"
The old man suppressed a smile, aware that Luke's destiny had already been determined for him. It had been ordained five minutes before he had learned about the manner of his father's death. It had been ordered before that when he had heard the complete message. It had been fixed in the nature of things when he had first viewed the pleading portrait of the beautiful Senator Organa awkwardly projected by the little droid. Kenobi shrugged inwardly. Likely it had been finalized even before the boy was born. Not that Ben believed in predestination, but he did believe in heredity-and in the Force.
"Learn about the Force, Luke. Remember, the suffering of one man is the suffering of all. Distances are irrelevant to injustice. If not stopped soon enough, evil eventually reaches out to engulf all men, whether they have opposed it or ignored it."
"I suppose," Luke confessed nervously. "I could take you as far as Anchorhead. You can get transport from there to Mos Eisley, or wherever it is you want to go."
"Very well," Kenobi agreed. "That will do for a beginning. But you must do what you feel is right, of course."
Luke turned away, now thoroughly confused. "Okay. Right now I don't feel too good about this..."
He cannot hide from his destiny forever, Master, Anakin voice said.
I know, old friend, Obi-Wan thought back. I know.
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