Chapter 2
Obi-Wan sat in the stillness of the room. The lights were off and only the brilliant shine of the moon spilling through the windows offered any glow. His back's posture was perfectly straight, his head level with his eyes closed gently. His hands were folded in his lap. The only movement he made was the slow rare deep breaths he took. Reaching within himself, he felt his heartbeat slowing. He had to reach complete serenity for him to reach his goal. Master Yoda didn't shy from telling him how much he knew Obi-Wan would struggle with this advanced training, reaching the next level of meditation and connecting with the living Force.
Part of him was still in shock with the concept of once again communicating with his old master, Qui-gon Jinn. It had happened once before two years ago when he, Ahsoka and Anakin were stranded on Mortis, a nexus of the force. Obi-Wan had spent much of his sparse free time thinking of that moment in between campaigns for the war.
He felt eager to reconnect with Qui-gon, but he wasn't excited. The idea of seeing his old master again intrigued him, but he didn't want to face him. Obi-Wan failed his master – he could see that now. He failed Anakin and now, he was gone. The image burned in his mind's eye of the mutilated, melting form of his former student crawling up the lava bank wreathed in flames. Hateful yellow eyes stared back at him as the flesh charred and melted from his face. The scream shook him. Still echoing in his ear, he found himself sitting in the shadowy room. Obi-Wan looked to his right at the small couch where the tiny form of the baby wrestled and struggled. The baby's cries broke through to the Jedi Master's ears. Obi-Wan stood up off the floor and scooped up the baby in the arms of his tan Jedi robes.
"Shhh, its alright," he said consolingly as he swayed to calm the child. The cries continued, shattering the stillness of the room. Obi-Wan shuffled through the pack of his only belongings he decided to bring with him. Finally he found what he needed. Holding the glass container of formula, he focused on the metal cap which at his will slowly unscrewed to reveal a rubber nipple. Still swaying and whispering soothing words, he stood up and held the bottle at the baby's mouth. The cries muffled away as he suckled the bottle, eyes still closed tight.
Obi-Wan sighed with relief, thankful that his reliance on the Force was making up for his inexperience with infants. "I should have packed a nursing droid."
Obi-Wan hadn't liked the idea of carrying around the baby so openly around Mos Espa's streets. The heat was unbearable, the noise of the pedestrians, droids and speeders was distressing and the overall feeling he had from the beings around him was unsettling. Now aboard a rickety air speeder soaring high above the desert, his unease hadn't lessened but at least it was a change of pace. The city had been bustling whereas the half empty shuttle gave him a moment where he didn't feel the need to constantly glance over his shoulder. Instead, Obi-Wan gazed out the window through the glare of the twin suns.
The flight to the Anchorhead settlement soared high above the craggy canyon of the Jundland Wastes, a long stretch of brown razor like teeth jutting from the agape mouth of the vast desert. There was nothing as far as the eye could see out on the horizon but the desert.
This was Obi-Wan's fourth trip to Tatooine. The first had been in his youth while under the apprenticeship of his Master, Qui-gon Jinn. Confined to his protection duties for the Queen of Naboo aboard her stranded starship miles away from the city, he hadn't seen much of the planet life except for a brief scrape with the natives garbed in wraps of tan and brown cloth, Tusken Raiders. His first impression of them as barbarians he would later learn to be was shortsighted.
It was when his Master returned from Mos Espa that a new course had been set for his life. He could still remember the very moment that the young boy had barged into the maintenance bay of the Nubian Starfighter breathless and wide-eyed. The boy had exclaimed that Qui-Gon was in trouble and dragged Obi-Wan by the cuff of his robes to the cockpit. Obi-Wan had seen the clashing of a green and red blade through the desert haze as the ship slowly lifted off the sand and something had stirred within him, the first of many times he would experience the Force's foreboding warning to the exposure of a Sith.
As he paused in his memories, it dawned on him now what the Force had tried to reveal to him – view to the future and the fate of his Master. That very same Sith would be his Master's end and again, only Obi-Wan would be left to stand at the boy's side. It was on that foreboding day on Tatooine that his fate would forever be entwined with that of the boy's - with Anakin Skywalker.
His duties in service to the War brought him back to Tatooine twice for negotiations with the Crime lord, Jabba the Hutt. What local life he had missed out on during his first visit to the world, was certainly made up for in the presence of the Hutt and his court of bounty hunters, smugglers, entertainers and scum.
On each of these previous visits, Obi-Wan thought very little of the harsh environment. Now, as he gazed out upon the ocean of sands, he could see why Anakin, in all his years under his tutelage and as brothers in arms in the Jedi Order he talked very little of his home world. No trees, no plains, no green of any kind. His new home – it depressed him.
He looked back down to the baby, fitful but still asleep. This was for him, it was all for him. As Obi-Wan looked down at the child, he couldn't help but wonder, was this truly the galaxy's last hope? Was this infant the one to bring about the return of the Jedi and restore balance to the Force? Would he succeed where Anakin had failed? Within himself he felt something and it brought a weary smile to his bearded face, the likes that had lasted only but a moment at the child's birth. The mother, Padme, had spoken of hope then, but he couldn't see it and his smile had faded along with his faith. Before long, the three-hour flight was over and holding the baby tightly, Obi-Wan hurried off the speeder and back out under the heat.
Finding the registration records for the Lars moisture farm while still in Mos Espa had been surprisingly easy for Obi-Wan, a lack of any legitimate government was also a lack of much menial bureaucratic processes to access information that would normally be protected and private from the public. The Lars family homestead was merely three miles from the settlement, the perfect place for the next phase of his mission.
Though Anchorhead was far smaller than Mos Espa, he had found another rundown, abandoned building to make camp in. There was a market in the center of the settlement, shaded from the sun under tented canvases in a feeble attempt to keep the sand out of the various wares of clothes, fruits and vegetables and even mechanical components. It was there that Obi-Wan had staked out the days with watchful eyes and strained ears.
By day three, he could feel himself tiring under the heat despite his bouts of sleep at night. Still sitting on a bench away from the clamor of the market, he felt his head dip lower and lower to his chest. The baby stirred inside his brown robe, or was it his stomach? His lips were parched and cracked, stinging whenever he brushed them with his rough, dried out tongue. Then he heard the name called out across the market.
"Good to see you, Beru! Take care of yourself, Darlin'"
Obi-Wan lifted his head and peered out from under his hood. A single woman stood out to him from the crowd. A young woman with a kind, round face and large, soft eyes smiled brightly as she hefted a basket onto her hip with one hand and waved goodbye to the merchant with the other before turning away to squint against the suns. The name resonated within his mind. Beru Whitesun, a resident of the Lars homestead. Obi-Wan forgot his hunger and thirst and leapt to his feet, striding down to the market to catch up to her. Reaching out with his mind through the Force, he called out to her before using his own gentle voice.
"Pardon me."
The young woman turned with a curious look on her face – knowing he was there before even seeing him. "Are you Beru Whitesun?" Obi-Wan asked.
She looked him in the face but seemed stuck solely on his water-blue eyes. "Yes. Do I know you?"
"No, not exactly. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, I am an acquaintance of Owen Lars.
Still in bewilderment, Beru frowned. "My husband's never mentioned you before."
"That is understandable," Obi-Wan said. "I would be happy to explain myself if you have a moment to spare."
Beru shrugged. "Sure." Her gaze finally was let free from his eyes and gravitated to the bundle in his arms. "What a precious baby," she beamed. "Is it yours?"
Obi-Wan hesitated, watching Beru closely. Her immediate attention to the baby brought a subtle grin to his expression. "I am his guardian."
A whimper sounded from the bundle of blankets held close within his brown robes. The baby wiggled in his arms before letting out a cry. The sound had an instant affect to Beru's own demeanor, another encouraging sign for Obi-Wan. "He sounds hungry."
"Seems so," Obi-Wan said while caringly swaying the infant in his arms.
Beru smiled, beckoning for Obi-Wan to follow. "Come on, I'll take you to where we can get him fed."
With a nod, he followed her. They moved through the crowd away from the marketplace to a domed building that seemed to grow out of the sand. She led him inside. Obi-Wan stayed quiet while Beru was greeted by name from a waitress as they moved to a booth in the relatively empty diner. Before long after the waitress' visits, Beru held a bottle of formula to the baby's mouth. Obi-Wan paid little attention to the plate before him, instead watching the young woman cradle the child with an encouraged smile.
"You said you know Owen?" she finally looked back up from the baby.
Obi-Wan quickly picked at his food. "An acquaintance of his." He paused, suddenly not sure how he was going to explain himself. He had no idea if Lars would remember or have even met Anakin. Obi-Wan took a breath and leaned back from the table. "I'm a friend of his step-brother, Anakin. Did you ever meet him?"
Surprise took over her expression. "Once, very briefly. It was years ago." She paused, as if reviewing her memories. "There was a very beautiful woman with him. She was very kind," she smiled.
"Padme," Obi-Wan offered almost solemnly.
"Yes, Padme. How are they?"
Again Obi-Wan was at a loss for words. After all his time of waiting for this very moment, he thought he'd have rehearsed what to say. "I'm sorry to tell you-" he felt his words catch in his throat. "Unfortunately they have both died." Another wave of shock swept over her face. Clearly it was the last thing she expected to hear.
"He is their child," Obi-Wan continued. "I promised them that I would bring him here to his family and help watch over him." He let his words set in, visibly watching as Beru's expression reflected her understanding.
"You mean us?"
Obi-Wan nodded soberly. "You and Owen are the only family he has left."
She looked back down to the baby, holding him against her shoulder to pat gently at his back. "You're asking us to take him, to raise him as our own?" With her head still bowed, she began to shake slightly.
Obi-Wan watched closely and frowned. He heard her breathe shutter and noticed a tear drop from her soft blue eyes. "I hope I haven't upset you."
Beru looked up with a shine in her eyes. An overwhelmed smile coloring her already rosy, tear streaked cheeks. "No, no you haven't," she said between gasps of joy. "Its just, you have no idea what this means to us. He's such a beautiful baby boy." She said as she wiped tears from her eyes and looked back down at the child.
Obi-Wan reached out with the force to the overjoyed, young woman across from him. He felt her happiness – an alleviated pain. A great harrowing sorrow seemed to have been lifted from her very being – a broken heart now mended. Then he felt within her a disturbance – like a veil draping over the joy, dulling it ever so slightly with sudden uncertainty. "So you will take him?" Obi-Wan asked.
She paused, biting at her lip as she stared at the child before giving a restrained reply. "I need to talk with Owen first."
Obi-Wan smiled and nodded. "Of course." He reached into his robes to the leather, pouched belt he wore then handed Beru a small circular handheld device. "For reasons I may describe at another time, some discretion is in order. Use this communicator to contact me with a simple yes or no then I will bring the boy to you."
Beru nodded. Though she seemed distracted in her own thoughts, he trusted she understood. Obi-Wan stood from the table and indicated to take the baby back. He felt the hesitation within her – it was the last thing she wanted to do.
"Does he have a name?"
"Luke… Skywalker." Obi-Wan wasn't sure why he had hesitated.
"Luke," she repeated as she looked at the baby.
Obi-Wan heard the compassion in her voice and felt the love she had within her heart. It brought a smile to his face. By the will of the Force, all was exactly as it needed to be. There was no question in his mind any longer. The boy would be raised by the Lars family and when the time came, Obi-Wan would teach him in the ways of the Force and he would be the new hope of the galaxy.