The towering white structure was the last thing Obi-Wan Kenobi expected to find when he exited his small dwelling that evening. A frown crinkled his brow as he studied the three-and-a-half-meter device. Where had it come from? Who had installed it? Why had they given him such a gift?
It certainly wasn't there when he returned from Anchorhead. No, the old, broken one was still there when he got home. So, when exactly had the new one been delivered? And why wasn't I aware of it?
The fact he hadn't felt a tingle in the Force alarmed him. Was he finally losing his Jedi awareness? He shook the thought off. What nonsense, he decided. He had the same focus he always had. The days of isolation, the weeks and months of grief and guilt had not dulled his abilities in the least.
Whoever his benefactor was knew how to move silently and without tripping any of the precautionary measures he put in place to keep intruders out. So, he questioned as he walked around the towering structure. Who did this?
Nobody on this remote desert planet gave without expecting to get something in return. Least of all when it was something as grand as this. Life was harsh on Tatooine and most of the planet's inhabitants were either struggling moisture farmers or small business owners. Trading was the way of getting the goods and things one needed.
Yet, someone had decided to give him the one item he had not managed to repair. For all Obi-Wan's self-sufficient achievements, and there were many he was rather proud of himself for having managed to do with a bit of help, there were a few things he simply hadn't been able to do.
Fixing and cleaning the moisture vaporator that sat beside his hut was one of those things. Not that it mattered now. The old one had been replaced with a brand new one that gleamed like ivory in the last vestiges of light cast by the planet's twin suns.
The only question running through his mind was: who is my benefactor?
It wasn't like he had neighbors who'd do something this generous. His small, domed-roofed hut sat on a bluff at the southwestern edge of the Dune Sea. His nearest neighbors were the Lars family and Obi-Wan much doubted that Owen would give him a glass of water much less a new moisture vaporator.
His inability to trust that this gift had been given with pure intentions sickened him. Trusting anyone after everything that happened was difficult.
Obi-Wan circled the device as he puzzled over who had given him such a lavish and generous gift. A piece of paper affixed to one side of the moisture vaporator caught his eye. The words were written in Jawa Trade Talk, so he could easily interpret them: a gift for our friend Ben.
His features softened as he realized who his benefactors were. The maroon-cloaked creatures were always eagerly sharing their tools, knowledge and what spare supplies they could with him. Especially after he offered to share what food and trinkets he found with them.
He gained further favor with the clan after he gave three young Jawas the eopie he had used after arriving on the planet as a gift. The Jawa chief responded to his generosity by chittering and gesturing to their sandcrawler to convey how happy he would be to give Obi-Wan rides into the various spaceports when he needed them. Obi-Wan took him up on his generous offer from time to time.
It became a mutually beneficial relationship that saw each side get the items they needed.
And now they have given me this moisture vaporator, he thought as he reached up to smooth the ends of his mustache with calloused fingertips. Most of those who lived on this desolate, harsh planet considered the Jawas cloaked con artists. Not that they were wrong in that assumption.
Jawas did have a reputation for swindling their buyers.
Moisture farmers were rightfully wary of what the Jawas offered, but they often purchased the equipment, tools, and droids they needed because they were unable to find those items in their remote locations.
Many times, they sold refurbished tools and equipment, as well as faulty droids that barely made it off their sandcrawler. Obi-Wan had personally witnessed a few droids exploding as they followed new owners back to their homesteads. It wasn't good business.
Jawas were also able to create specialty type droids, fashion tools, and equipment that couldn't be obtained anywhere else from the various parts they scavenged or traded for.
Dishonest they might be, and willing to do what they needed to get the goods and supplies they wouldn't have otherwise, he also knew they could be the most generous beings on the planet. Their giving him a moisture vaporator proved that.
Their thoughtfulness touched him in ways he hadn't felt in a long, long while. Friendship was not something Obi-Wan imagined he'd be lucky enough to have with anyone ever again.
Not after Anakin.
Not after losing so many of his friends in the Jedi Purge.
Yet, here were these simple creatures offering him exactly that. Emotions he hadn't felt in a long time rose up, threatening to swamp him. He set them aside, fearing he'd be overwhelmed if he didn't.
He vowed to do something to show the Jawas how much he appreciated their very generous gift. Both gifts, he thought as he turned and slowly made his way into the desert.
For now, it was time for him to make his customary journey across the vast and dangerous landscape of the Jundland Wastes. Time for him to lurk — for a few minutes, anyway — above the Lars' homestead and watch as a baby with the hope of the entire galaxy resting on his small shoulders crawled around the compound.
Time to reassure himself one more day had passed, and that Luke Skywalker remained safe and sound.
A/N: Hello, all! I hope this finds you well!
This piece is a companion to my other work, Kenobi.
Please, if you like this piece, favorite it. Also, feel free to leave a comment below saying if you liked this piece or not. Take care, all!