AN: Many thanks to everyone who had been reading and commenting on this tale which, although faithful to the finished tale, has grown in length as I have edited and refined. We are slowly approaching the end though...

This story has not be beta read.

All previous disclaimers still apply...


Insidious

Part Six

The Jedi

Obi-Wan closed the door behind him, shrugged off his cloak and hung it on the hook that he had driven into the wall a few days after he had moved into the dwelling. He glanced around, taking in the small abode that had become his home some seventeen years before. Owen Lars had helped him find the place, had helped him repair the weather damage and clear out the accumulation of sand from the abandoned building. Both Beru and Owen had assisted in the cleaning and had helped source pieces of furniture and equipment that Obi-Wan would need for his prolonged stay on Tatooine.

Owen and Beru had sacrificed much to help him and Luke in those early days. He had seen the dark circles around their eyes from sleepless nights with a fretful child. Luke had a strong affinity with the Force and Obi-Wan knew, could feel, that the child was just as affected by the churning darkness that had enveloped the Force as he was. The babe would scream long into the night, taking little comfort from his guardians' efforts to ease his distress and Obi-Wan himself would jolt from nightmares with Anakin's name on his lips and the image of Anakin's hateful eyes burned into his mind.

Yes, all four of them lost sleep those first few months.

Gradually however, the Force had reluctantly reconciled with its new configuration; it grew darker, dimmer and stirred slowly as the Empire grew and spread across the Galaxy. Republic and Separatist worlds alike were engulfed by Palpatine's dictatorship and all rebellion was quickly and brutally quashed.

Obi-wan could only impotently watch by the side-lines as the Galaxy shuddered and heaved under the change until it gradually began to settle into some governed order. His dreams had faded and lessened and Anakin's son stopped screaming and became a more contented child.

Yes, Anakin had brought some semblance of peace to his Empire. But it was a peace that had been bought by the blood of billions. It was a peace maintained by state sanctioned murder and brutality and it was a peace that could only ultimately shatter and would one day cast the Galaxy back into mayhem and turmoil.

The Force was unbalanced. It was dark, so dark and black that Obi-Wan could barely see into its many folds, its shadowed corners. He knew change was coming and he knew… felt… that Luke would be at the centre of it.

The Jedi sat upon his bed, his eyes finding the trunk that held the few belongings he still had from his previous life; a few dusty datapads salvaged from the Jedi temple, a comlink that hadn't been used since his arrival here; it was dead now, dead and silent like the Jedi Order.

There was also Anakin's lightsaber.

He hadn't known why he had lifted it from the hot ash of Mustafar. Didn't understand his actions to this day. It had been an unconscious act and he had pondered it many times over the years. Anakin had been defeated, had lost limbs, and yet he had instinctively scooped up his opponent's…

his brother's…

…lightsaber as though it still posed a danger.

"I hate you!"

"You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!"

The Jedi rubbed a hand across his brow, covered his eyes and bowed his head in grief, regret and guilt. He had turned away and left Anakin to burn. He had thought him dead, he had thought that…

you couldn't do. You couldn't kill him, not even then. Not even to grant him mercy... and now you wonder why the Force is so dark and why evil reigns…

you had a chance to stop it. To change it…

only you could have prevented what occurred, only you had the chance to kill Darth Vader… only you could give the Galaxy hope…

but instead of the Sith you only saw the Jedi Anakin had been… the boy within the man…

The Jedi. The boy.

Obi-Wan glanced up, his eyes back on the box.

The boy.

give the Galaxy hope…

What he had sensed today from Luke had stunned him. Luke's presence in the Force had been blinding, like a sudden explosion of power, and he had rushed to Anchorhead arriving just in time to watch the group of youths land their small crafts around the building that they used as an unofficial hang out spot. Luke had arrived first and Obi-Wan could feel his elation, his giddy excitement and he had seen how that elation had died as the others had pointedly ignored him and trudged into the cool of the building until only Luke and his friend, Biggs, were left standing in the suns.

The boys had argued, loud enough that Obi-Wan could hear. Luke had won a race in Beggars Canyon, had threaded the Stone Needle; a feat that even Obi-Wan knew had been achieved by very few bush pilots in the area and certainly not one of Luke's tender age. Taking a risk Obi-Wan had reached out into the Force and initially felt…

darkness…

…Luke's upset and anger at his friend's words, but as the boys spoke as the words became less sharp, the anger and upset had waned and Luke's delight at his achievement had trickled back lightening the Force.

He had turned and left the boys. His mind churning at what he had sensed. The initial burst of power must have come during the race, the anger had rolled in and darkened his mood, but it had lifted just as quickly and yet, Luke seemed completely ignorant of it all, at what he achieved... at the energy he had used and the presence he had projected. His power was innate, like his father's, instinctive and inborn. Without knowledge, without training, Luke had naturally and unconsciously begun to use his abilities to enhance his performance.

There had been bursts of it throughout his childhood; knowledge of the location of lost items, a dream that warned of a Tusken Raider attack, an intuitive understanding of people… but now Luke was tapping into it for fight or flight – quite literally, too.

Is that what had happened four years ago when Fixer, Luke's bully, had appeared with a broken arm at the same time that Luke himself had turned up with fresh bruises? If so, then why had he not felt Luke's presence and power then?

Obi-Wan sighed, the sound breaking the silence of his home.

give the Galaxy hope…

He had waited too long, he had allowed his fear of discovery to hold him back, had allowed Owen Lars' demands that Luke had a childhood to hold him back and now Luke was reaching out on his own, intuitively using the Force.

give the Galaxy Hope…

Luke was that hope and it was time to awaken him.

ooOOoo

The Pupil

Neither of the two men knew he was there. No one had seen him climb the stairs and hide inside the farmstead dome while Owen Lars and Ben Kenobi…

…his Master had called him "Obi-Wan…"

…spoke outside as the wind gusted around them. Even from his vantage point it had been difficult to hear and he had been tempted to reach for the Force to assist him enhance their words, but with the Jedi being so close it was a risk he dare not take. So he stood to the side of the doorway, out of the sunlight that brushed the steps, and eavesdropped as they argued.

"We had… agreement!" Owen, was becoming angry, his body tense and his face reddened.

"Owen... what I felt… Luke is… and needs to be… own good. We… it… and he's… too late."

Luke grimaced, shook his head, annoyed at the words being lost to the sweeping Tatooine wind. It wasn't strong enough for a sand storm, but it was strong enough to steal words before they reached him.

"No!"

Luke grinned, his uncle's ire was growing.

"Owen," Ben was trying to reason with the farmer, his voice was calm, rational, "Luke is grown now, far…" the wind gusted, sand shifted. "…yond… age… that Jedi… and… father would want…"

"To hell with what Anakin would want!" Owen burst, too loud for the winds to snatch his words. "Luke will not be trained…"

Luke ginned at that. Too late, Uncle…

"… so take that damned lightsaber and get off my property!"

Lightsaber!

Kenobi carried a lightsaber? Intrigued, Luke risked peeking out around the door and caught the Jedi securing something under his robes.

His master had not permitted him to have his own lightsaber. He had only been permitted to train with a practise sword and, although he had begged his master to duel him, Sidious had refused. So Luke had been left to exercise his sword forms and prove his prowess with only the various remotes that his master tossed into the air and the sound of his master's voice to guide him.

He hadn't even see a real lightsaber yet.

"Owen, I…"

"Don't come back!" Lars snarled, "Don't come back, or so help me…"

"Luke?"

Luke jumped, spun around and found his aunt behind him. He had been so intent on listening to Kenobi and his uncle that he had not sensed his aunt's approach.

Beru looked at him quizzically, then glanced to the doorway, "what are you doing?"

"I.. uh…" he stumbled, feeling like a bumbling farm-boy for the first time in years. He could feel the heat growing in his cheeks under the commanding gaze of his aunt. "I…"

"Were you eavesdropping, Luke?"

Luke lowered his head at his aunt's accusation, looking sorry and embarrassed at getting caught; playing his role as his master had commanded. "Yes, ma'am," he confessed in a whisper; his aunt always taught that honesty was the best policy. His Master taught that honesty could be a useful tool, if deceit was hidden among it. "Trying, too."

A fleeting look of panic flashed in Beru's eyes as she tore her eyes from Luke and glanced outside. "What were they talking about?" There was a tone to Beru's voice; suppressed fear and consternation.

Luke shrugged, nonchalantly, half grinned and glanced at his aunt with wide eyes. "I.. uh… I don't know. I couldn't hear, really. I think I heard them mention my father, though. Did Ben… I mean… Did Mr Kenobi know my father?" He put hope into his words, an innocent expectation into his voice; like he always did when his father was mentioned.

"No," Beru said, too quickly and Luke knew she was lying. He knew from his master that the story he had been fed by them all his life about his father being a navigator on a spice freighter was a lie, but he continued to allow them to spin their ruse. His master had ordered him not to arouse suspicion. "Your father was gone by the time Ben arrived on Tatooine," and yet, he could feel some truth there, too.

"Oh," Luke looked crestfallen, his hope dashed again. Even his master was elusive about his father, even he would merely drop little hints and snippets of information…

"…you remind me of your father, but some day your power may surpass even his…"

"Patience, young one, use your anger, but do not let it control you like it did your father…"

"…he became a great Sith."

…but would say no more when questioned, would become angry and vicious if pushed.

"Do not think to question me, boy!"

Luke winced at the memory of his last lessons, absently rubbed the shoulder that had dislocated when he had hit against his master's stone chair after asking to know more about Anakin Skywalker. Afterwards, once Sidious had sated his anger, once Luke could scream no more and had dragged himself to his knees, his master had handed him a training sword and loosed three remotes to attack. In dreadful pain and with his arm hanging uselessly by his side Luke defended himself as his master taught.

"A Sith is never weak. They use the pain, the torture, to focus their strength. I can feel your anger. You hate me, you fear me and that gives you power. I am the root of you, the foundation of you… I am your strength. Without me you are nothing…"

"Luke?"

The soft tones of his aunt brought him back and he found Beru looking at him with concern. "Hmm?"

"Where were you just now?"

"I… uh…"

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"I…," he started, then he shrugged and confessed, "No."

His aunt sighed, wearily shook her head. "I swear young man that you will be death of me. You need to get your head out of the clouds."

Luke cast his eyes down. "Yes, ma'am."

"Now go and finish your chores," her eyes moved past him to the doorway, watching what was happening beyond, but all Luke could hear was the growing wind; there would be a sandstorm tonight. "Supper will be on the table soon."

"Yes, ma'am," he echoed, his voice thick with his huff. Playing the dutiful nephew and truculent teenager he eased past his aunt.

As he descended the steps he could feel her watching his back, could feel her troubled emotions; her fear for him and he knew that she would run to Owen and tell him what had happened. There was no doubt that both his aunt and uncle knew more about his father than they had ever said, there was no doubt that the Jedi knew, too. He closed his fists as he crossed the atrium of the farmstead, fingernails digging into his palms as he fought to control his anger. They had lied to him and continued to lie to him.

His father had never been a navigator. His father had been Sith… and one day he would confront them all with the truth.

ooOOoo

The Jedi

He had failed again.

Back in his home and sitting on his bed, Obi-Wan turned the lightsaber hilt in his hands; feeling the cold of the metal, the ridges of the hand grip, and ran his fingers along the various pits and grooves that the lightsaber had gained through its years of use through the Clone Wars.

"I hate you!"

His thoughts always turned to that moment. Not once in these seventeen years had he remembered Anakin without that moment surfacing to haunt him.

"I hate you!"

The scream of hatred, the tortured cries as Anakin burned and the crunch of black ash and hot stones beneath his feet as he walked away from his friend.

"I hate you!"

He had failed Anakin and now he was failing Luke.

Or was he?

Perhaps the farmer was right. Perhaps it would be best not train Luke, to preserve their agreement to keep Luke ignorant of his background, of his family, until he was older; until he was mature enough to rationalise the events of the past.

Obi-Wan shook his head in frustration. Luke's innate abilities were growing. His power burgeoning; flourishing now that he had discovered his wings. His presence within the Force was becoming distinct and strong and… and yet, there was something hidden. Something that the Force was not letting him see…

He rubbed at his chin, fingers pulling on the hair of his beard. Ever since the beginning of the Clone Wars the Dark Side had clouded the Force; it's strength shadowing and veiling much from the view of the Jedi Order. The very Sith Lord they had been seeking had been standing before them the entire time and had manipulated them all.

The Force was still dark, still concealing.

He rose, crossed the room and pulled open the trunk that held the pieces of his past and returned Anakin's sword. He shut the lid and paused with a hand placed upon the ancient wooden. His head bowed as in prayer; his eyes closed in grief and helplessness. Faced with Owen Lars threats and not desiring to create conflict for Luke he had little choice but to honour Luke's guardian's wishes… at least for now.

He had never been blessed, or cursed, with precognition; but he knew without doubt that change was coming and that Luke would somehow be at the centre of it.

If Luke could not be trained, then Obi-Wan would need to be ready, he would need to be prepared to move at short notice; for the boy could not walk the path of the Force alone.

ooOOoo

To be continued….