So guys, here's the next chapter! It got a bit longer than I thought, but I hope you won't be bored ;)
I will be gone for the next week, but I still hope to post the next chapter on saturday as usual, or at least on sunday.
Chapter 13:
On his way back through the streets Obi-Wan was still deep in thought, but not so deep in thought that attentive anymore and so he noticed the young boy who tried to sneak his hand in his pocket immediately.
With a movement to quick to follow – at least with the human eye – he spun around and grabbed the boy's wrist.
The moment his fingers closed around it two things happened simultaneously: the first was a small disturbance in the Force, but strong enough to rock Obi-Wan to his core since it was centered around him ,and the second was an almost electrical flash sizzling through his arm where their skin met – and judging by the boy's wide-eyed stare, he'd felt it, too.
Obviously this child was the reason why the Force had told him to come here.
He sighed mentally.
He was getting better at picking up strays than Qui-Gon and he was sure his old Master would be laughing his head off at his situation.
"So what's your name young one?" he asked gently, letting go of his wrist, since ,if the boy started an escape attempt, he would be fast enough to stop him again. Obviously the boy was aware of that fact, too, for he stayed where he was, though he looked at him waryly and suspiciously.
"Why would I tell you that?" he asked defiantly, his hand edging towards the blaster strapped to his tigh (in fact, Obi-Wan was usrprised he hadn't yet tried to shoot him and run).
Though Obi-Wan noticed that, he chose not to comment on it, but said instead, "I do not wish to harm you. Quite the opposite in fact. I'm here to help you."
"Very likely. Why would youwant to help me?" the boy asked with obvious skeptism.
Obi-Wan sighed – couldn't matters be easy for once? – and inquired, "Did you feel the jolt when I touched you? That was the Force. And the Force told me to help you."
The boy thought for a moment, an intent frown on his face, his natural curiousity surfacing, then stated, "I've never heard of this 'Force'. What is it?"
'Well, the Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together.
"And the reason why you've never heard of it is that not many people are interested in the Force, except for the Jedi," Obi-Wan explained patiently, knowing that he had to gain the boy's trust, if he wanted to achieve anything.
"Sounds... well hokey," the boy said unimpressed, then, to Obi-Wan's surprise, he added, "Are you a Jedi?"
"The Jedi Order is extinct," Obi-Wan replied, carefully avoiding answering the question outright – and it was the truth in a way, you couldn't really say that three person make up an entire order.
He could see that the boy didn't quite buy that, but, after regarding him for a few more seconds, he just said, "My name is Han Solo."
Obi-Wan smiled at him. "A pleasure to meet you, Han. Call me Ben."
"That's not your real name," Han stated. He really wasquite perceptive.
"True," Obi-Wan admitted. "But for now my real name is too dangerous."
That only served to pique Han's curiosity and interest, but before he could follow it up, Obi-Wan asked, "Do you have any refuge where we can talk in private?"
Han nodded and, since it was a reasonable request (he certainly wouldn't want to talk about himself too much on Tatooine's streets), sett off down the street.
As Obi-Wan followed he had a chance to really study Han for the first time:
He had brown hair and brown eyes, possessed by a mischievous twinkle, and a strong nose. His features were still slightly boyish, but already hardened by too many experiences a child never should have suffered.
His inconspicuous clothing, black trousers and boots, a white shirt and black flight jacket covered a too thin form. A relatively well-made and well-used blaster was strapped to his thigh. Obviously he hadn't always lived on the streets of Tatooine and Obi-Wan was pretty sure that Han's accent was Corellian, as was his name, Solo. Actually the Solos were one of the oldest and most esteemed families of Corellia, if he recalled correctly.
So how had he ended up here? Where were his parents?
He was startled out of his thoughts by a sudden sense of danger in the Force. The source was a broad-shouldered, grim-looking man pushing his way through the crowd towards Han.
"Hey, Solo!" he called, making Han stop in his tracks and glare at him. Obviously Han knew – and didn't like – the man.
"Still pick-pocketing around here? I'm surprised you haven't starved yet, with your skills," the man taunted.
Obi-Wan noted that Han's hands were curled into fists in barely restrained anger, as he quietly stepped up behind the man, whose concentration was completely fixed on Han.
"At least I don't have to pick on smaller people than me to get money!" Han retorted. "Or do you have to sell your body to get something to eat, Kordath?"
The man's face went pale in anger.
"Why you little..." he started furiously and reached for his blaster – only to have his wrist gripped by a strong hand and to find himself face to face with a stranger, whose piercing stare was very unnerving.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Obi-Wan informed him, not unkindly, but with a definite edge of warning in his voice.
The man – what had Han called him again? – sputtered outraged.
"Who are you to dare...?!"
But Obi-Wan cut him off. "It's not important who I am, but rather what I'll do if you aren't sensible enough to go away now peacefully and leave young Solo alone."
His tone was still deceptively mild, but his eyes had hardened.
Unfortunately – for Kordath at least – he didn't seem to be overly sensible.
Obi-wan sighed as Kordath swung his left arm (the one that wasn't trapped in Obi-Wan's grip) back to hit him.
Some people really couldn't take a hint...
The next second there was a sharp crack, a howl of pain and Kordath went to the ground as Obi-Wan's foot connected with a very sensible part of his body, clutching his broken wrist.
He bend over the downed man.
"Next time, heed my warning," he advised, voice still blandly polite, and went over to Han.
He would never have admitted it, but he didenjoy knocking bullies as this one down a notch – or two. He just couldn't stand bullies. Maybe that was because of his own childhood-experiences with Bruck Chun, a fellow Jedi Initiate, who had always picked on him and had nearly succeeded in getting him send to the agri-corps, or the fact that he had such a large heart for a ll beings and detested violence, or simply because he was a Jedi, he didn't know.
And he didn't particularly want to think about it.
His memories of Bruck still hurt, partly because he still felt guilty about his death (contrary to the many – and increasingly frustratedly – efforts of a lot of people to convince him otherwise) and partly because of his shame over his reactions to Bruck's taunting. As the full-blown Jedi Master he was, he, of course, had confronted and released those feelings, but some things couldn't be erased completely, not even by a Jedi Master.
"Are you all right?" he asked Han.
The boy nodded. "I'm used to their taunting. But I could have handled him, you know."
Obi-Wan shrugged. "I just thought this would be faster."
Han had his pride, and he respected that, but the kid seemed to accept his anwser.
"It was rather neat work," Han admitted, really smiling for the first time. "And you got him good in the nuts."
Obi-Wan smiled back. "I wanted to teach him a lesson."
"Oh, knowing him, he'll have forgotten it as soon as the pain lessens," Han commented with a snort. "Not too bright, that one."
"I had noticed." Obi-Wan agreed drily.
"Come on then," Han told him and set off again. "It isn't far now."
Han's refuge turned out to be an old, deserted hovel, which mainly consisted of a living-room with a small kitchenette, a tiny room with a bed and a small fresher.
All in all it was decent enough, though it could use a bit of cleaning and tidying up.
"It's not much, I know," Han said from behind him, looking at his feet. "But it's enough to live in."
"Don't worry, Han. I've seen much worse," Obi-Wan assured him.
Han looked doubtful, but didn't comment further.
"Do you have anything to eat?" Obi-Wan asked, looking around in the kitchenette.
"No I was at the market to...um... 'get' something," Han replied, avoiding to look at him.
Obi-Wan thought for a moment, then got a bit of money out of his purse and offered it to Han.
"Will you go back to the market and buy some food while I straighten this place up a bit? We can talk when we've eaten."
Han stared at him, shocked, and stammered, "You would trust me with your money?!"
"Of course," Obi-Wan said simply – after all trust had to start somewhere and had to go both ways. And Han's surprise at such a simple declaration of trust saddened him. The boy probably had never had anybody before who'd trusted him with money.
Hesitatingly Han took the money, still unbelieving, and whispered, "Thank you.", before going out of the door again.
Han still oculdn't believe it as he slowly walked back the way they'd come. A near stranger had just entrusted him – just like that! – with money! Wasn't he afraid that he would steal it?
And he still didn't know what Ben wantedwith him. He really was nice (and seemed to be quite a good fighter, judging by the way he'd dealt with Kordath and his graceful movements), but why bother with a little scoundrel like him?
When Han returned with some Bantha meat, a few pallies and some other things Obi-Wan didn't know, he had already tidied things up and cleaned a bit, more for his benefit than Han's, who hadn't seemed bothered by the mess before.
"Can you cook, Han?" Obi-Wan asked once he'd recovered from the shock of seeing the room clean.
"Um, no, not really," Han admitted.
"We'll have to remedy that, but for today I'll cook then," Obi-Wan said after a moments thought and immediately went to work cooking a meal for them both.
Cooking had always been his job, one that he'd taken on gladly because Qui-Gon had been a terrifying cook and Anakin had taken a lot after him in that area. After numerous cooking accidents and burned meals, he'd finally forbidden Anakin to make anything more demanding than toast (and even thathad ended in an exploding toaster once, he really had no idea how Anakin had managed that) and had told his Padawan to stay out of the kitchen as much as possible, an order that Anakin had been happy to oblige for a change.
As soon as the meal was ready on the table, Han wolfed down his helping in record time. It was apparent that he hadn't had any decent meal for quite a long time.
Once Obi-Wan had finished, too, and the dishes were washed, they reclined in their seats as a comfortable, sated silence ensued.
At last Han ventured a question.
"You said we could talk now?"
"Yes."
"So...can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
For a moment Han asked himself if that question maybe was a bit rude, but then, what he'd itched ti ask for quite some time now, burst out of him. "What do you want with me?!"
Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow. "I don't want anything with you. I wish to help you."
"How? And why? This Force-stuff sounds rather...well, um, 'strange'," Han asked, fumbling for a polite word.
The corners of Obi-Wan's mouth twitched in an attempt to hide a smile. "This 'Force-stuff', as you call it, iscomplicated, but I've found that it is unwise to ignore it. As to the how...I plan to leave Tatooine soon, and I would like to take you with me."
Han's eyes widened in delight. "Leave Tatooine?! Just tell me what I must do!"
"You don't have to do anything. Though it would help if you allowed me to live here until we can leave," Obi-Wan told him.
"When will that be?" Han questioned eagerly, barely controlling his excitement at the prospect of leaving the dustball.
"In a month."
"And...what about money?" he asked hesitantly.
"I have some and I will try to get a job," Obi-Wan explained.
"So I don't have to..." Han said, torn between relief and embarrassment. It felt too much like charity to him.
"No," Obi-Wan confirmed gently. He understood that Han had his pride and was reluctant because of it, so he added, "And it's no charity, Han. More like what people do for a...friend."
For a moment it looked like Han would cry (Force knew when someone had last shown him kindness!), but he just said quietly, "I would like that."
At that moment Obi-Wan fully realized for the first time that Han was still a child. Hardened, yes, but still a young boy, who, however subconsciously, longed for someone to care for him, show him affection.
Later Han often asked himself why he'd trusted a man he hadn't even known. He had no real answer, but he often thought that it had been because of his air of kindness, gentleness and honesty (something not often found on Tatooine). One just could not not trust him.
"And what will happen once we leave Tatooine?" Han asked curious once he'd gotten back his bearings.
"That depends. Do you still have parents left?" Obi-Wan replied.
If Han was surprised by the change of topic, he didn't show it. "No. I've been an orphan since I can remember."
"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said quietly, but sincere.
Han shrugged it off. "How can I miss something I've never known?"
But Obi-Wan knew his indifference for what it really was; a protective wall against the loneliness in his heart. But now was not the time to talk about that.
"We're going to Alderaan to meet a friend of mine," Obi-Wan confided instead.
"Alderaan? But I thought you...never mind," Han started confused, but then decided it was better not to say it.
Obi-Wan smiled slightly. Han was sharp and he felt that he could trust him, so he said, "Yes, you've guessed correctly. I am a Jedi Knight.
"But I thought the Jedi were all dead!" Han exclaimed, part awed, part disgruntled that he hadn't told him before, part shocked that it was really true.
Obi-Wan's eyes grew sad at the reminder. "No, not all. A few have survived. Too few."
Han hesitated unsure, then asked timidly, "So what the Emperor says about you isn't true?"
Obi-Wan snorted bitterly. "No. But I'll tell you the true story another time."
Han accepted that with a nod and asked, "So what's your true name? Don't worry, I won't squeal on you or something."
Obi-Wan smiled faintly. "I didn't think you would. But promise me you'll still use 'Ben' in public."
"Sure," Han agreed readily.
"Very well then. My real name is Obi-Wan Kenobi."