Chapter Seven: Always Calmest Before the Storm...Right?
Owen woke to silence. Frowning, he rolled onto his back and strained hard to hear the screaming of the wind outside. There was nothing, not even a loose stone hitting against the homestead walls.
Careful not to disturb his snoring girlfriend, he eased out of bed and groped about the dark bedroom until he seized a houserobe.
The storm can't be over. I doubt it's over, he thought while making his way down the quiet hallway. He could hear the generators clanking away in the dome-garage.
It didn't take long to find his object of interest upon entering the sitting room. He fiddled and cursed at the knobs of the portable radio, trying to find the right frequency.
"How do people rely on these things?" Owen muttered, becoming increasingly frustrated with the static coming through the frayed speakers.
There was a creak and some thumping from somewhere in the homestead, but he promptly ignored it upon hearing a voice from the radio.
"...leave your homes. I repeat, do not leave your homes. The storm's eye has come. Imminent danger will occur if you step out of your homes."
Footsteps clanged up the stairs.
"...says the storm will not last much longer. Be patient. Do not try to kill each other too much."
Owen glanced up when his step-brother walked in, about to say something before seeing the holo figure in his hand.
"...you're cutting out."
"For a mechanic you…inexcusable."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Anakin glanced up at Owen, rolled his eyes, and sat on one of the chairs. "Ahsoka and and I are safe, by the way. Thanks for asking."
"Do I dare ask where you are waiting out the storm, Anakin?"
"I have some contacts."
The figure of Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed. "One of these days, Anakin, you'll be the death of me."
"So you've said."
"Any idea when the storm will be over?"
Anakin shrugged, plopping the comlink on the table and leaning back against the wall. "It's pretty quiet right now - the eye must have come. Two or three days?"
Owen realized the radio was still playing, and flicked it off quickly. There was no sense in the radio waves interfering with the comlink's.
Obi-Wan folded his arms and nodded slowly. "Our analysts predicted that as well. Should anything happen, Anakin, keep us informed. Rex will follow through with your orders when it is safe to proceed."
"Roger roger, Master."
"I swear, Anakin…"
The transmission cut. Anakin chuckled, shoving the communicator in his pocket and looking at Owen. "Couldn't sleep?"
"The silence woke me up."
"That tends to happen to my men after a battle. They have trouble adjusting to peace."
Owen did his best not to let his annoyance show on his face. It wasn't his stepbrother's fault that all he could talk about was the war and the Jedi. That was the life he knew. There wasn't any harm in talking about what was familiar.
Glancing past his stepbrother to a spot on the wall, Owen asked, "You're leaving once this storm is over?"
"I thought that was a given...the Council wouldn't be very happy if I took a sudden leave of absence."
A scoff left his throat before he could stop it. "No, I suppose they wouldn't."
Anakin frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm sensing a bit of hostility, Owen."
Oh, you sense it? Owen thought irritably. Good for you, Master Jedi! He shook his head and made to rise. "It's nothing, Ken. I'm going back to bed."
"No, you're not." Anakin stood and blocked his path. "We've been at each other's throat the moment I arrived. There's-"
"The moment you arrived unannounced right before a sandstorm? We didn't even know if you were alive!"
"I didn't have time to contact-"
"You were just talking to Obi-Wan! The other night it was Padmé! You have time!"
"I'm on a fucking battlefield half the time!"
"And the other half?!"
Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm his breathing and keep his voice from going any higher. "I'm fighting a war, Owen. I can't stop and travel to-"
"You're fighting the Republic's war! You're a puppet, Anakin! The poster-child for a-"
"Do you think I want to be fighting?! I would be on Naboo right now if I had a choice!"
Owen balled up his fists, and got in his stepbrother's face. It would have been a comical sight had they not been arguing. He was much shorter than the Chosen One, but just as angry. "You have a choice. The Jedi don't rule you."
"The Jedi-
"You're a coward, Anakin, always leaving those you claim to love behind. And for what? Duty? Honor?" A part of Owen was pleased when the Hero-With-No-Fear didn't try to fight back. He sneered at him. "Face it, Ken. You're terrified of a future without the Jedi. Without a war to fight."
Anakin said nothing, clenching his bionic hand and not saying anything.
He smirked, and shoved past his step-brother. He was half-way down the hall when he heard the phrase he had once wanted to hear with all his heart.
"When this storm is over...I won't come back."
Owen paused in the middle of the hallway, contemplating his words. It would be hard to survive without the money from the Naberrie-Skywalker bank accounts, but they could manage. The farm had been going for generations - it would survive. They would survive.
But could he survive, without his stepbrother?
Without his brother?
"Good."
Author's Note: Well, that was a short chapter! We're coming to the end of this story! Whoot!
Ta for now, dearies!
ii Digestive Reader ii