A remix of Minor Counterintelligence Operations by igrockspock (on Archive of Our Own). The original story captivated me when I first read it, with its humor but also heartbreak because canon. This was the result.

When the Free Spiral Arm Channel newscasters criticized Senator Naberrie's budget votes, Ben was outraged. Cleva Pooja was a senator, and that meant her job was to represent her planet, her people. Why shouldn't the Senate pay for Nabooian infrastructure?

You could see it in the way Cleva Pooja dressed, her blue vests cut in the traditional rippling style of the planet. She was proud of her homeworld. Not like Mom, who represented Elatrun because "nobody else wanted to run," who had no affection for the place where Ben had been born. Okay, Mom's homeworld was a bunch of dust, the Empire had blown it up and that was why Grandpa Bail and Grandma Breha were part of the stars, but still. Elatrun was a great world. It had launchpads and trees taller than two Wookiees, and snowfall so early in the year that it cancelled school, and flim-nara that swung by their tails from the trees. Who wouldn't be proud of it?

"People vote for Mom because they recognize her," Dad said. "Sometimes she gets tired of that."

"Well why does she keep running, then?" Ben had asked. "She should stay home with me and the droids."

"I'll let her know your opinion," Dad said, and that was the end of that.

But Cleva Pooja was the fun kind of politician, who brought seashells from Naboo and found the restaurants that made the best fried shalna. One day she even went out for dinner with Ben's family, and she brought an off-worlder, a Gungan named Luch.

"Is she your girlfriend?" Ben asked.

"Ben!" said Mom.

"What? People can have non-human girlfriends if they want. Uncle Chewie said so."

Pooja laughed. "Luch is a colleague from home. She's here to be part of the Amphibious Council. They give the Senate advice on important issues."

Luch was one of the boring politicians. She talked funny and didn't like any real food, just gross fish things. Ben knew he wasn't supposed to make fun of Mom and Dad's friends, but there wasn't a rule that said he couldn't ask questions about Cleva Pooja's. Dad had said they would go get dessert afterwards, though, and he didn't want to put that at risk.

So it was a few weeks before he could ask Pooja, "Why do you live on a planet with weird aliens anyway? Wouldn't it be easier to go somewhere else? Or make them move?"

Pooja gave a quiet laugh. "We used to ask ourselves the same question. For a long time, the Gungans were afraid of us humans. We had more technology, better weapons, and we could control the land."

Ben nodded.

"Then...well, some armies came to fight for our money. We were a peaceful planet, and we didn't know how to fight back."

"You mean the Empire?"

"Before the Empire, but similar. People who didn't trust the old republic."

If the old republic was full of stupid politicians like Luch, maybe they had a point, Ben thought. But he let her continue.

"I wasn't born then. But my auntie, my Trelf Padmé, she was our Queen. The leader of the humans."

"Your Cleva was a Queen?" Ben stumbled over the Nabooian jargon.

"She was my blood-aunt, my mother's sister."

"Oh," said Ben. "So are you a queen too?"

"Not like that," Pooja said. "On Naboo, we—well, the human adults—vote for our Queen. Just because my family was wise leaders doesn't mean I would be."

"You're a good leader," Ben said. "Everyone says so. Except those guys on TV, but they don't count."

"Well, thank you," said Pooja. "Anyway, Trelf Padmé knew that we were not strong enough to fight alone. We needed the Gungans' help. We live in symbiosis; no one is stronger or weaker, but together, we keep the planet in balance."

"So you fought 'em off?"

"Yes. The Gungans did. And Naboo was safe."

"Until the Empire came," Ben pointed out. "Nobody was really safe then."

"True," said Pooja.

He still thought Gungans were weird, but there was nothing wrong with non-humans running for office, really. Maybe one day Jelbaz the Twi'lek would run for Senator from Elatrun and Mom wouldn't have to be so stressed out all the time.

Ben loved the Falcon. Both for educational purposes—like Dad showing him how he'd installed the quad cannons without them showing up on a scanner—and for hanging out. He was just about too big for hiding under the console and poking the toggles until the computer complained that he was tickling, but if he curled up the right way, he could still just about send binary beeps and decode the computer's response.

"I'm bored," he griped. "Do you know any games? And don't say dejarik, R2 always beats me."

I can play sabacc, relayed the computer. Dad said her name was Elthree, and Ben thought this was weird because computers didn't have names, but she was basically a droid so maybe it counted.

"How can you play sabacc? You don't even have eyes. Or hands."

I'll randomize the deck and project your cards on the dejarik grid.

"You'll just cheat then!" Ben protested.

I will not, Elthree sulked. I play fair.

"How does a cruiser even learn to play sabacc?"

Well, Elthree paused, then answered, a Baron Administrator taught me.

"What's that?"

It's the title given to the leader of an independent city in systems like Bespin.

Ben knew about Bespin. It was one of those systems that had an important natural resource, like gas, and not too much else. The Senate kept saying stuff about having to "diversify their economy" and "move them into the sixth millennium." "So how did the leader have time to program you?"

Well, he was in exile at the time.

"Was there a revolution?"

Not exactly, said Elthree. Because Bespin was so remote, it was at first able to avoid the Empire's influence. But there came a time when one of the Imperial leaders thought it important to establish a presence there. So he threatened to attack the city unless the Baron Administrator followed his orders.

"To leave?"

No; to hand over any rebels who came seeking refuge from the Empire. The Baron Administrator wanted to protect his people, so he agreed to the Empire's terms. But when the Empire tried to go back on their word, he gave the order to evacuate and ran across me while he was on the run. He went on to join the Rebellion and saw combat fighting the Empire.

"Why would he even agree to a deal in the first place?" Ben asked. "Why would the Empire hold to it? They were evil."

They were, Elthree said. But they were also very powerful, even if they couldn't be everywhere at once. If a planet had escaped their notice for years, it seemed likely it could keep doing so.

It made sense, Ben supposed. "And he was bored enough to program you? Didn't he have important hero stuff to do?"

Life can't be all struggle, all the time. At least not for organics. You need time to recuperate so you can be strong when you need to.

"So can I program you?"

When you've practiced on inanimate chips first. I don't want some upstart poking around my circuits, you'll just tickle me.

Ben didn't really know how to program. There were droids for that kind of thing. But if Dad had made illicit installations on the Falcon, why couldn't he? "Pretty soon I'll be too big to fit under here. Then I won't be able to tickle you."

I'll hold you to that, said Elthree. What functionality could you even add to me? I'm a very skilled navigator already.

"I dunno. Do you have a random-number generator? We could play Galactic Expansion."

Only if you don't try to haggle with me.

"That's no fun then!"

Humans have a long history of undervaluing and exploiting their droid partners. I will not see trade commodities depreciated just because I'm possessing them.

"Whatever," said Ben, stretching as he climbed out. Ship computers were great for computing courses, but maybe not so great at history.

Lor San Tekka wore short sleeves even in Elantrun's winter. "This planet is much muggier than where I grew up," he said quietly, taking a sip of caf. "I've seen a lot of the galaxy. The weather doesn't faze me."

"Well," said Mom, "I have too, and after Hoth I can appreciate the value of layers."

"Speak for yourself," said Dad. "Not much good if you have to evacuate fast."

Mom sputtered as she gulped down her caf.

"What's the weather like on Icham?" San Tekka asked.

"Foggy, I think," said Mom. "Lots of rain, but not too hot."

"Where's Icham?" Ben asked.

"In the Mid-Rim," said Dad. "That's where Uncle Luke has his school."

Uncle Luke had a school where he taught people about the Force. Ben wasn't sure if Mom had ever been there, or if she just felt Uncle Luke in her heart with the Force, the same way Ben was connected to her but not Dad. "Are you gonna learn to be a Jedi?" Ben asked.

San Tekka smiled. "I'm not very strong in the Force."

"Then why are you going to Icham?" He wasn't sure that the man was; he didn't know how to do mind tricks and see into people's heads, but it was either that or San Tekka was just trying to make chit-chat about the weather like that lots of boring adults did. And San Tekka didn't look boring. He had a bracelet of beads, red and silver, and fuzzy brown shoes that looked like they were made out of some non-sentient creature's fur.

"I want to learn from your uncle," said San Tekka. "What he's studied about the Force. And maybe teach him some of what I've run across."

"If you can't use the Force, what are you going to learn?"

"Maybe how to fight with a lightsaber!" San Tekka said. "Anyone can turn a lightsaber on and wave it about, eh?" He struck a dramatic pose, somehow managing not to spill his caf as he lunged outward.

Ben refused to laugh, because it wasn't funny when grown-ups tried too hard to be weird. If people were going to be weird, the least they could do was be like his parents, who were lovable even though they were full of secrets.

"Did you ever hear—" San Tekka broke off as Mom shot him a glance, then went on. "The story of Chirrut Îmwe?"

"No," said Ben. "Where's that?"

"Îmwe was a person, not a place. He had no particular strength in the Force. But he belonged to a group of monks called the Guardians of the Whills. They revered the Force and watched over the kyber crystals, which Jedi used to craft their lightsabers."

"Hold on," said Ben. "Monks? Like...apes? Was he human?"

"Not monkeys. A brotherhood. Of—religious worshippers, you could say. Mostly humans."

Ben crinkled his nose, taking it in. "So like the Jedi?"

"They honored the Force, like the Jedi, though they could not touch it. They had faith that it surrounded them, as it did all the galaxy."

"Not hard to have faith when warriors with big swords are coming through and buying your gems every so often," said Dad.

"Well, the Empire came along, and destroyed the temple. The Guardians were scattered, and many lost faith."

Most of the stories Ben knew involved an abrupt mention of "Well, the Empire came along." Those that didn't tended to be short ones, like Vanessa Varactyl and the Big Race.

"But Chirrut endured, even though he had gone blind. Perhaps as a casualty of the attack, I don't know. Sometimes he lived on change begged from passers-by, sometimes he practiced martial arts on his own, and he continued to trust that the Force would guide him."

"Let me guess," said Ben. "It did?"

"Well, I'd say so," said San Tekka. "I think he would too. He wound up joining the Rebellion, and helped renegade troops on the ground communicate with the space fleet. He wound up sacrificing his life at the Battle of Scarif."

"Oh," said Ben. "Who's Scarif?"

"Scarif is a planet in the Abrion sector. Beautiful weather, though I've only been there a couple times."

Before Ben could ask what had brought San Tekka there, Threepio gave an exclamation from the kitchen that suggested he'd burned the pies again, which was still better than Mom's baking. Dad rushed in to try and salvage some before Mom decided they should all go out for frozen logeda instead.

Dad said the droids at the hospital were surprised that Mom had known something was wrong so early. Something inside her had shifted, and they wanted to fix it before it made her really sick.

"Must have been the Force," Ben said. "That told her, I mean. Not that made her sick."

"Maybe so," said Dad.

It wasn't like it could have been luck. Mom didn't believe in luck, even when she had the best hand at sabacc. "Luck isn't enough to win battles," she said. "Prepare for the worst, and enjoy if it doesn't come to pass."

Mom said a lot of weird things, though, especially when she was trying to tack on morals to her stories. Hope was like the sun. Usually you only had one at a time, except on planets where they had two, but sometimes they got split apart.

Lots of Mom's friends and colleagues came by to visit her in the hospital, even though Mom said she was fine and just wanted her staffer droids to come by so she could catch up on work. Amilyn Holdo took the hint, and after dropping off a bouquet of bright yellow novablooms, came back to the house to hang out with Ben.

"Guess it's kind of quiet around here, huh, buddy?" she asked.

"Not really," Ben shrugged. "Mom's out at work a lot."

"That's true," said Amilyn. "So, how do you keep yourself busy?"

"I practice Shyriiwook," Ben said. Uncle Chewie said it was basically impossible for humans to speak it fluently, but maybe if he used the Force to bend his tongue…

"That sounds difficult."

"It's not so hard. I know a few bad words."

"Really?" Amilyn grinned. "Never know when those will get you out of a jam."

Ben considered this. If he was in trouble he thought it would probably be easier to call for help from Uncle Chewie than to swear, but hopefully it would never come to that.

"What do you do for fun around here?" Amilyn went on. "Besides swearing, I mean."

"I play X-Wing Racer."

"Huh! Do they have the sixth edition out yet?"

"You know about X-Wing Racer?"

"Do I know about it? I was playing the second edition back when it was in low-res, kiddo."

Ben smirked. "Bet you can't beat me on the Corellia Backwater Circuit."

"Does your dad let you bet at home?"

"Not a real bet. Just playing."

"Well, I'll take you up on that," said Amilyn, plugging in a controller.

For an adult, she was pretty good. She even knew the power-ups that let her go skimming across the planetary surface, blow exhaust into Ben's engines, and right her course from doing loop-de-loops in midair. Ultimately, he edged her out by a couple seconds, but it was a close race.

"Wanna try the Endor Escort Run?" she asked, as the victory music piped and Ben's animated avatar danced on-screen.

"Isn't that just a co-op level? Those are boring."

"Boring? Real space battles rely on cooperation."

"Real space battles are about people trying to kill each other," Ben pointed out.

"And defend each other, too," said Amilyn. "Ever heard of Biggs Darklighter's maneuvers?"

"Nah," said Ben. "Is that a second-edition unlock?"

"Not that I know of. Biggs Darklighter was a pilot from Tatooine—a dry, remote world in the Outer Rim. He was freeborn, I think, but the planet was known for its brutal slavery even in the days of the old republic."

"If it was known, why didn't anyone do anything about it?"

"That's a good question," said Amilyn. "Many of the Core Worlds were stretched thin solving their own problems, and the republic's law held little sway as far away as Tatooine. Anyway, Darklighter was determined to rise above his origins—literally and figuratively, I suppose—so he joined the Imperial Academy."

"He worked for the Empire?" Ben yelped. Mom and Dad never told stories about the Empire's pilots, but there must have been some good ones. Otherwise, how did they stay so powerful for so long?

"Yes and no. Joining the Academy was a way for a talented pilot to leave Tatooine, but he had no love for the Empire. The first chance he got, he ran away to join the Rebellion."

"Wasn't that dangerous?"

"Of course it was. But so was staying in the Academy. Both to his health and to his spirit."

"How does someone even run away to find the Rebellion anyway? I mean, weren't they...hiding?"

"They were," said Amilyn. "But back then, if you were friends with the right people, sometimes you would run across secrets even if you weren't looking for them." She giggled as if telling a joke only she understood.

Ben scowled. He'd been looking for secrets for a long time—trying to untangle why his parents were so weird—and they refused to yield. Just his luck.

"Darklighter piloted a X-Wing for the Alliance. Sometimes he fought on his own and flew top-secret missions. But in a critical battle, he wound up flying alongside another pilot who had made it out of Tatooine. Even though the other pilot was less experienced, Biggs could tell he was a better shot, and fell back to provide cover."

Did the Alliance have simulators, Ben wondered? Did they compete to see who would get to fly attack patterns and who got held back for supply runs?

"In the end, he was killed defending his comrade. But he bought enough time for the Alliance to strike a thundering blow."

"So if he'd been a better shot, they could have used him elsewhere and he might have survived?"

"Maybe," said Amilyn. "Or maybe the Empire would have won the battle after all."

There was no point worrying about the past, Ben figured. You couldn't change it.

Amilyn fiddled with the controls. "Endor, then?"

"I guess," said Ben. "But I get to fly the Y-Wing."

Ben had never visited his dad's family. He wasn't sure if Dad even had a family, besides Mom and Uncle Luke. And Uncle Chewie and Uncle Lando and the droids, but they didn't count. They were itrelfe, like Pooja would have said, not iclevna.

Dad did, however, sometimes take him on trips to pick up cargo from shady businessbeings on the far side of the galaxy. Ben was pretty sure it was supposed to be the other way around—parents should take you to meet your grandparents, not their criminal partners—but he didn't complain. Maz's had fun music, and good food.

Dad was talking to a Troig, one of whose heads seemed to be a lot more interested in trading than the other. Maz, who was only a little taller than the stool Ben perched on, came over to refill his shalna. "If you live long enough," she said, "you see the same eyes in different people."

"What?"

"Many years ago, I saw a father and son passing through here. Humans. The father was on his way to make a purchase which was quite illegal—yet I trusted there was good in his heart."

"Let me guess," said Ben. "This was during the time of the Empire, and the dad was a good guy because he was gonna fight the Empire, or something."

"Oh, it was before that," said Maz. Well, she was really old, if Uncle Chewie could be believed. "During the time of the old republic, slavery was outlawed, and yet it still occurred on some far-flung planets."

"Like Tatooine," Ben said. "In the Outer Rim."

Maz adjusted her glasses. "Yes," she said, "like Tatooine. This man, he was not very rich by the standards of his day. But his wife had recently died, and he'd inherited some credits from her."

So that was why the son was there, Ben decided. He wasn't along for the ride to learn about smuggling; he had no one else to watch out for him.

"When they reached Takodana, Cliegg—the father—realized that his credits would not go far on such chaotic worlds. So he bought a used spaceship with a hydraulic filtrator that would be valued in the desert. He told me that he hoped to trade it for the freedom of a housekeeper, who he could hire to look after his son, Owen."

"And what did Owen think about that?"

"I think he was confused. He missed his mother, of course, and he was trading a bustling home for a desolate one without much say in the matter. But he was resilient, ready to take changes in stride and face the dawn."

Ben bit off another piece of shalna, spraying salt over the plate.

"I only saw them the once, and I suspect they both lived and died on Tatooine. But I heard word of them, much later. Cliegg really had found a slave to set free and hire, and then something unexpected happened."

"The Empire came?" Ben guessed again.

"He fell in love with her."

"In love? With a slave?"

"A freewoman, then. He was concerned, of course; he was still her employer, and did not want to abuse his position. But she had grit and kindness, and most importantly, she loved his son."

A freeman and a slave seemed an odd match indeed. But were Ben's parents any more similar? Mom burned with the Force, while Dad was numb to its pulse. Dad haggled with junk dealers, and Mom debated with Senators. Mom taught him how to set the table with a bunch of forks, and Dad taught him how to put his shoes on the table like a smuggler. And they both burned with love for each other.

"It cannot have been easy, trusting in a new parent's love after so many years. But I believe they were happy."

"Hope so," said Ben. "Can I have some logeda?"

Dad got stuffed noodles for dinner, and Ben didn't need the Force to know that something was about to happen. They only had stuffed noodles if there was company, or it was someone's birthday, or Mom and Dad were about to tell him something difficult, like how he wasn't allowed to hit Rylee Statura at the school picnic even if she had stolen his bantha milk.

The droids were out in the workshop, arguing over the Falcon, so it was just them in the living room when Dad said, "Ben, you're getting older. Mom and I have talked about it, and we think it's time we talk to you about some important things before you start at Agtona School."

"Oh," said Ben. "I already know."

Mom tensed. "You do?"

"About the Wookiees and the Ewoks? Yeah. Kes Dameron explained it to me last year."

Dad laughed. "Well, good for Kes. You know you can always go—ah, ask your Uncle Chewie if you have any questions, right?"

"Of course," said Ben. He didn't really have any questions, and he figured Dad would be able to answer them if he did.

"There are some things kids at school will know about you, and us," said Dad. "And some things they won't. It's really none of their business. But if anybody looks at you funny—"

"I know," said Ben. "No hitting, no punching, no using the Force."

"You don't have to answer their questions," said Mom. "But there are some things you should know, about our family, and the war. What you do with that is your choice."

Ben blinked. "Okay."

"I'm not sure where to start," said Dad.

"Hmm," said Mom. "The way I heard it, a long time ago, there was a trade blockade around the small planet of Naboo..."