I'll come find you. I'll save you.

Images of the little girl with dark hair, allowing his frightened grip around her tiny, soft hand. Her bright smile as she lead him forward into the darkness, fearless. The sound of her voice, somehow familiar, proud and gentle. The promise he heard echoing inside his mind.

I'll come find you ... I'll save you.

Delirious thoughts, fevered and dizzy, the only anchor keeping him from the darkness of sleep. Those seven words, and the thought of the little girl. It almost soothed him like his necklace could, dwelling on her. On Leia.

The darkness around him was growing deeper. Luke forced himself to fight it, knowing even in his innocence how death whispered in his ear. It had been hours, or maybe days, trapped somewhere cold and hard and darker than any night on his dusty bedroom floor on Tatooine. He could feel how everything hurt, and how it almost felt like nothing at the same time. He could not even cry anymore, nor make noise. Nothing felt real.

Except for his thoughts. And the one thing that allowed him escape, that prodded him to fight, was Leia.

I'll come find you. I'll save you. I'll come find you … I'll save you ...

"... hello? Hello?"

Luke heard the voice, a voice that sounded much like his own. He moved his dry lips, knowing his breath could barely escape, let alone words. But he heard it again.

"Hello? Luke!"

Like a knife freeing a convict's fetters, light cut through the expanse of darkness. Luke saw it from behind his eyelids, squinting and covering his face, but still he wanted to see it. With what mobility he mustered inside himself, he moved toward it, singular and bright.

The sound of durasteel being sawed through filled his ears, accompanied by a droids whirring.

"Luke, Luke! It's me! It's Leia!"

Luke felt his breath speed up, like he had run a very long way, and he wanted to say something and open his sore eyes, but could not yet. He listened and hear Leia cry in distress.

"Hold on! Artoo is cutting the lock - "

The droid beeped as the sound of the saw suddenly silenced, and Luke heard bare footsteps on the floor moments before he was enveloped in the safety of Leia's arms. They clung to each other, hardly able to contain the onslaught of emotions that overcame them. Leia squealed in delight and Luke felt tears burn in his eyes; he felt whole again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Leia whispered to him quickly, "I almost gave up, I was frightened but I knew you were even more scared than me! I didn't want them to hurt you, I'm sorry for leaving you!"

Luke could physically only nod. Leia released him to look him over, placed her hand on his cheek gently. He opened his eyes just barely, but saw her face, her brown eyes and cheeks wet with tears.

"Does it hurt?"

Luke nodded.

"Do you wanna sit for a minute?'

Luke nodded.

"Do you know what time it is?"

Luke shook his head.

"It's very early morning, it's what I read on a chronometer outside. You know what?"

Luke shook his head.

"Today is my birthday."

At the words, the little boy perked up. His eyes widened in surprise, and Leia giggled at his expression. Today was his own birthday as well! Luke was not sure how to communicate this to Leia, but somehow he knew she knew something about it. It was that strangeness he felt again, knowing the face whilst it being so foreign. Nevertheless, she smiled to him, and he smiled back.

As safe as Luke felt then, he knew it would not last, not until they were far far away from this place. Leia seemed to know this as well, her eyes filling with something like determination.

"Mr. Ben found me, but he was taken away. I found this ship at the palace, and I came to find you here. I think he is on this ship with us." Leia removed the cloak around her shoulders as she spoke, draping it over his bare and bruised body. "We need to find him, so we can rescue my mummy and daddy and Winter and go home. Artoo!"

Behind her, an astromech droid rolled to their side, his flashlight illuminating around them.

"This is my father's astromech droid, Artoo-Detoo. Artoo, this is Luke."

The silver and blue droid R2-D2 twirped, and Luke smiled back at the droid. Astros were one of his favourite kinds of droids, seeing many of them following around pilots in the busy streets of Mos Espa when his aunt and uncle would take him into town. The droid projected a holo-map onto the floor before them, and Luke's eyes moved quickly examining it.

"This is the layout of the ship. It's a Star Destroyer so it's very big. Here is us …" Leia pointed to a small square, "And I think Mr. Ben is in a holding cell close to us. I have an access card so we can enter any room."

Luke looked to Leia in confusion, wondering how on earth she had managed to gain possession of that on an Imperial Starship, but for some reason did not doubt her ability. Leia smiled, seeming to see his question.

"Don't worry, I'm just borrowing it while one of the officers in taking a nap."

R2 made a noise that sounded something like what Luke would make when he was laughing.

Leia rose, taking Luke's hand in her own, "Can you run? We need to be able to move fast."

Luke stood up, feeling weak as if he hadn't stood in weeks; he felt the soreness inflicted on him fully, but he steadied himself with Leia's firm grip, and nodded to her. When he held tightly to her hand, it seemed to give him strength. When he stood by her side, he felt a courage fill him. When he looked in her eyes, he was flooded with hope.

Luke thought this, and somehow he knew Leia did too. They each had a necklace, but they realized together that there were not two parts. Only one. Just like them. Somehow, like their necklace, they were something that had been broken. But they were no longer two parts. Only one.


When presented with danger, living beings regress from highly intelligent life forms to creatures of instinct in a matter of seconds. Rational thought and understanding of time and space is tossed aside, thoughts becoming simple and methodical. Extreme agitation and tension takes over the body, aching to flee the threat or becoming unwillingly stiff as stone.

This happened occasionally to Obi-Wan Kenobi, in those few times when his Jedi senses were unable to forewarn him or his own distraction muted his awareness. To be reduced to what he truly was, beneath his safe and dignifying Jedi robes - simply, a man - was jarring.

But sometimes, in times of sudden and great distress or peril, instead of these instinctual and bare reactions of the flesh, there would instead be a terrifyingly still calm. A clarity in his mind, a soothing rhythm to his heart, as if the danger was simply a pebble to be scuffed beneath the sole of his boot.

This reaction was the most sought after in the path of a Jedi. Being reminded of one's humanness seemed a task most, if not all, Jedi were bred to avoid. The restraint of certain passionate and intense emotions, the long periods of solitude in meditation to disconnect one's soul from their body, as if the path of a Jedi was an eternal road in preparation of death. As if on the inside, one must loose the bonds holding them to their own individuality to truly become one with the Living Force.

This was how one reacted in the face of danger, either the loss of oneself or the exposing of one's all.

It was one of these strange and rare reactions that overcame Obi-Wan, at the moment he stared for the first time face-to-mask with the infamous being Darth Vader. However, the Jedi Master was not sure exactly which one it was.


Unwillingly, inexplicably, uncontrollably calm.

It seemed a mutual sensation, as they both stared and took one another in, both listened to the reverberating coarse hiss-shh of Vader's breaths. The long moments were not moments of recollection, of reawakened memories or regrets. They were void of anything but the present moment as it constantly renewed itself, like the rhythm of Vader's breath. As if, they were simply two beings on opposites sides of the transparasteel, not a threat, not a grudge, nothing. Nothing but two beings. Nothing less, and nothing more.

The being bathed in black before him raised his arm, revealing something dangling between his fingers. Again, there it was, the wretched and beautiful thing in it's faded ivory, catching faint light like a beacon in the dimness.

Obi-Wan swallowed, catching the sharp metallic aftertaste of blood, but kept his lips closed. He did not have anything he wanted, or even needed to say.

"You know what I want." The voice was flat, deeper than expected, "I only ask for what I am entitled to receive. I only desire what was taken from me. That is all I want from you."

"What you want does not belong to me. Never did it belong to me. I swear this."

"The list of beings who would find pleasure in the destroying and pawning off of something of value to me for the sake of my chagrin is small. I am sure there are millions who loathe my existence, but very few who would act against me." Vader's tone took on a subtle change, becoming firm, "But I know even you are not of these few. You know that there is nothing worse to be done unto me that you have not already done."

Obi-Wan took in the implication, and swallowed it whole. The image of his apprentice writhing among the ashes of the burning shore of Mustafar, the screams of his agony muted in his ears. How his mechanical hand, cold and unfeeling, had reached toward his own made of flesh, sensitive and warm. How even though the words were spat with contempt, the eyes betrayed in desperation. That was his doing, and his alone. But he swallowed it whole. It was bitter, and choked him momentarily, but he swallowed it whole.

"You claim no possession of the item I seek?"

Obi-Wan nodded once.

"Therefore, you are of no use to me. Just as your actions preceded when last parted, it would be a mercy for me to end you. A bitter existence lies ahead of you. It is one I have no ground interfering with."

It was a sharp click, and Obi-Wan felt his restraints release from his ankles and wrists.

It was the realization of his freedom that elided with the realization of the figure leaving the room in a rush of air from the tail of his swirling black cloak. The aftershock of his adrenaline finally kicked in, causing his heart to race, his eyes to burn. As he stumbled to his feet, rubbing his sore wrists, wiping the blood from his forehead, he nearly tripped on the body of the Imperial Officer Fidel - or, Erasmus - as he ran from the confining room.

Obi-Wan was spurred on, racing down the harsh white corridor ahead of him, senses instantly stretching outward to locate again the location of the Royals and Luke; he had subtly kept his awareness on search until he detected their presences and held them in the back of his mind. The fact that Vader himself was either unaware or ignorant of the Force essences, whether or not he was not familiar enough with the presence of his own son or that Obi-Wan's own presence acted as a protective mask, was certainly a question Obi-Wan kept shut in his mind, one he did not want to bother to stir up -

"Mister Kenobi!"

Obi-Wan skidded to a quick stop, turning around to where the sound had beckoned him. He did not have long to search before two small children came running toward him, followed closely by R2-D2 squealing happily. Leia reached him first, dressed still in her tattered blue dress, and he knelt to meet her embrace.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't listen but I had to - I had to come back for you!"

"Shh, it's alright now," Obi-Wan soothed her protests, surprised to see her in many aspects and full of questions that would have to wait. It reminded him of something Anakin certainly must have done. He smiled at her proudly, "What you have done is very brave."

Luke followed closely behind, wrapped in what appeared to be an old green flight jacket, looking more pallid than a boy from a desert planet should. Obi-Wan took the silent boy into his free arm, and felt the head rest on his shoulder.

"Luke was even more brave, Mister Kenobi. He never gave up." Leia smiled, "He never gave up, even when they took it."

They tortured him? The thought fell into place incredulously, and Obi-Wan looked to the boy, taking his chin with his hand to examine the extent of the bruises on his skin, "Is this true?"

Luke hesitated but nodded slowly; he had clearly put up quite a fight. His blue eyes, bruised around the edges and still eerily alike to a certain Skywalker, were still filled with strength. The Jedi Master realized then just how low the Imperials had stooped to regain what Vader required.

"Tell me where it hurts - "

"I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow, "What's this?"

"I don't hate you Papa, I didn't mean it ... I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan had nearly forgotten the small falling out the boy had with him, saddened by the fact it had been obviously weighing on Luke. "I know, young one, I know. I'm sorry that this happened to you; I never meant to put you in harms way. Leia is right: you were very, very brave. I am proud of you."

He pulled him safely into his arms again. Luke's breaths were soft, but stuttered with tears.

That was when Obi-Wan felt it. It was an intense sort of feeling that began to billow in his belly, one he was not used to feeling anymore.

Temptation.

It was plain, simple enough for a youngling to perceive. Vader had done this, with intent. Vader knew him. He knew him to be the one to flee quietly, the one to resign. The path that would ease the urgent temptation inside him, would be to find the Royals, to take the boy and the Princess and flee. To return each being safely to their respective home and tuck himself away again to his dusty hovel and hide until he became one with the sand. Yes, that was the path Vader wished for him. A bitter existence lies ahead of you. There was nothing that could please Vader more than the afterthought of his silent suffering.

Obi-Wan could not allow it. Vader was satisfied. He may not have regained all of what he desired, but he had clearly gone through enough suffering to be pleased with what he had. Obi-Wan could not allow it, not because he wished unhappiness upon him but because of the danger. The necklace was a symbiont, used to tie the two children together - the fact that it would now fail to do so but worse, tie the Princess to the Force essence that was Darth Vader was not something to flee.

Temptation to flee, a natural human reaction to danger. But Obi-Wan was not just a human, not as simple as a man.

As a Jedi, he had to make right the wrong. This, of course, was the path littered with room to err, one unpredictable and rash and emotional. But the cost of such things had to be paid. He had to regain what was taken from them - to demand what was not his, but rightfully that of the two small children safe in his arms. He saw again the image of Vader's gloved hands grasping the necklace, and juxtaposed visions of the torture done to a five year old child because of it.

With the last of his resolve, Obi-Wan quashed the temptation in him to flee, setting his face with determination. Obi-Wan pulled Luke close, taking his sister up with his other arm, and without hesitation stood and went to the turbolift.