The way a Ka'andesi enters the world is the way he will live his life.

—The Collected Wisdom of the Ka'andesi Peoples, as told to Inalia Kenobi, Chronicler of the Ch'lliear

Once we were alone, Mom approached the cave and placed her palms flat against the stone on either side of the entrance. Warily, I came closer, slipping one hand on top of hers. I had seen her and Aunt Bee use the Force before, and it always seemed to work the best when they were touching each other. Aunt Bee wasn't here, and I was the closest kin she had, so I figured I would have to do. The hand underneath mine turned and clasped my fingers, then I watched as her whole body seemed to go loose and fluid. Her eyes closed, and her head slipped forward so that her chin touched her chest. I wondered if I was supposed to feel something. They always talked about feeling the Force, but all I felt was the frigid night air.

After a few minutes, a light spray of pebbles bounced down off of the rocks and peppered my head. Flinching, I raised my free arm to shield myself, but my mother seemed not to notice at all. She stayed perfectly still and the shower of stones continued to worsen.

Great, I thought. If the pirates don't catch us, it'll be a cave-in..

"Shhh, Owen," Mom urged softly.

My mouth popped open.

The rocks let up after that, as if my wayward thoughts had broken her concentration. Contrite, I set my jaw and purposed to think of absolutely nothing until she was finished with…whatever she was doing. The more I tried to think of nothing, though, the more I became aware of how cold it was, and how vulnerable we would be out here if Tellenda's lackeys found us. Dad wouldn't like this, I realized. He wouldn't like anything about it. I knew I should do something about it—get us all to some real kind of safety—but what?

"Don't focus on your fears," Mom murmured. "Concentrate on the rocks."

What…? I cocked an eyebrow and squinted at the stone wall with my other eye. After about thirty seconds of doing so, I developed a headache, and I still had no idea what my mother was doing.

The spray of pebbles began again, worsening this time. Then I felt the ground beneath my feet start to shake. There was a horrible racket, and even in the dark, I could see the mouth of the cave tremble. My jaw dropped again, and I stared in astonishment as the two sides grated their way further apart.

"That's impossible!" I breathed.

Then, as if in response, my mother half turned and collapsed with her back against the stone. I hurried to steady her, but she slid down to the ground, exhausted. Biting my lip worriedly, I knelt down beside her and peered into her haggard face.

"Are you okay?" I asked, mopping her forehead and cheeks with the back of my sleeve.

She nodded but didn't speak for several minutes. I waited, watching her carefully, though I couldn't have said exactly what I was watching for. I knew next to nothing about using the Force, and even less about having babies. I wished fervently that my aunt was here, or at least that someone else was. Aunt Bee, with her knowledge of both healing and the Force would have been the best choice, but I would have even welcomed Ierei.

"How far…did it move?" Mom asked finally.

I looked up, studying the opening behind us, and sighed. "Not much. Maybe an inch or two. Do you think you can make it wider? You're still going to have a really hard time."

She sighed and shook her head. "It took everything I had to move it that much. It'll have to be enough."

"I thought the Force and the land were the same thing," I frowned. "If you can move it a little, why not more?"

"They are the same. And different. I'm not very strong, either, Owen," she told me softly.

"I don't understand," I said.

"Once, very long ago, the Chroniclers and Weavers were strong in the Force, like the Jedi Knights. The difference is that our gifts in the Force are always tied to the land and the clan that we're a part of. There hasn't been a powerful Ka'andesi like that since we made our home here, and me…well…away from the plains, my abilities lessen. I'm surprised I could widen that opening at all," she explained.

"Then why…" I let the question trail off, suddenly afraid of the answer.

"Your brother will be very strong in the Force," she replied, moving her hand onto my shoulder to lever herself into a standing position. I slid my arms around her to help. "Stronger than any Ka'andesi has been in many generations."

I didn't like the sound of that. I didn't like what it could mean for this brother of mine. Our father didn't trust the Jedi Knights. He said their power made them dangerous, and I believed him. He also said they came and took children away from their homes, never letting them see their families again.

That was not going to happen to my brother.

But if he was stronger than any Ka'andesi, who could show him the Force except the Jedi?

"Owen," Mom said, and I tilted my face up at her. "Don't borrow trouble. We have enough to contend with already tonight."

"Right," I agreed dismally.

"Listen. Aunt Bee put a datapad in one of those packs. There are instructions and diagrams on it in case the others don't get here in time," she told me.

"What?" I stared at her through my mask, praying that I had heard her wrong.

"If I lose consciousness or if no one else is here when the baby comes, you are going to have to help. You'll have to deliver him," she replied evenly.

How could she be saying that in the same voice she used to tell me I had to help Dad and Uncle Dannik load farm equipment? We were talking about her life! Maybe my brother's life, too—or even both of them!

"Mother, I don't know anything about babies!" I cried in the clan tongue. "How can I help you give birth!"

"You can do anything you have to do, Owen," she told me firmly. "You are a man of the plains, like your father and my father before you."

"But…!"

"I trust you," she told me in Ka'andesi. "Now, are you ready to help me?"

Slowly, painfully, I drew in a breath and forced back my frightened tears. "Yes."

"Good," she nodded in approval, then turned to face the cave again.

She studied it briefly, then bent and slipped one shoulder through the opening. Then she reached back with her other hand, and I positioned myself to support her, bringing my shoulder under her arm. We pushed and inched forward for what seemed like hours. My neck, shoulder, arm, and then my whole body ached with the effort. Both of us were drenched in sweat, and I could feel her trembling. She tried hard not to cry out, but even still her breath came in sharp, labored gasps and the effort she made to keep silent told me more about how much pain she was in than if she had screamed.

Finally, just as I thought we were about to make it inside, she clamped down on my shoulder so tight that I could feel tendon and bone grinding together. Her back arched against the stones, forcing her stomach more tightly against the other side, and finally she did scream. The sound of it made every hair on my body stand on end. Something wet gushed out from between her legs—blood? I couldn't see well enough to know.

"Ua!" I sobbed, terrified.

"Owen! Help me!" she gasped out in desperation.

"I am!" I told her, still shoving with all my young strength. The contraction made her whole body rigid, but the longer she stayed where she was, the more pressure there would be on her womb. I had to get her inside, no matter what it took, no matter how badly it cut her.

Taking a step backward, I slipped the two satchels off and let them drop to the ground. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could barely breathe. Every second I wasted was potentially one less that she and my brother had to live, but I knew I was only going to get one shot at this. Taking a deep breath, I repositioned my shoulder and then ploughed forward with every shred of strength and determination I possessed. My mother shrieked in pain and tumbled through the narrow passageway on her side.

"Mother?" I called, racing in after her. "Mother!"