Ahsoka folded her blanket for the third time and cast a look over her shoulder to the powercell readout. It was still cooling, as it had been the last time she had checked. She was stalling and the only problem was there was no one left to call her out on it. The ship was landed, the docking fee transferred, all that was left was to actually leave it.

The ship was smaller than the Skiff that she had traded two planets ago in the Mid-Rim and that was saying something. She had actually traded ship twice, each successively smaller, and the shuttle they'd been left with wasn't much to look at: a single powercell and one in reserve, 0.5 hyper drive rating and a hull that she had checked herself but still didn't like. What she'd give for duralloy plating.

It would hardly be enough to fool someone if they were intent on tracking her but she had hoped it would give them enough time to disappear. She still looked over her shoulder at each space-port but there had been nothing but the increasing malaise of the newborn Empire as they fled farther and farther from the Core. They had had barely left the ship, only to collect the orders she had placed. A pallet of ration packs for herself, as much formula as she had been able to scrounge for the children and two drums of water. The emergency med-droid she had stolen was stowed in the corner powered down. In all it made for cramped travelling conditions and until they had landed an hour ago she had thought herself ready to brave the outside just for the virtue of being able to stretch her legs.

She resisted the urge to pack her bag again. Anything of any value was already in it, she had been on enough planets like Tatooine to fear coming back to find them gone. She decanted some of their water into a canister and, lastly, went to the children.

Luke and Leia had taken to space travel the same way she had taken to being the sole carer of two children; with difficulty. The lack of room hadn't helped and at one point Ahsoka had wondered if they were somehow punishing her; why else would Leia start crying just as her brother had let himself be lulled to sleep? It was a terrible crying relay race, she was sure of it. It felt like she had spent most of their nights since Alderaan holding one or both of them, rocking from side to side or singing nonsense in a desperate bid to make them calm down. In the end she had once more let her mind drift over their little consciousnesses, hoping to find some answer. There was none, they were simply discontent.

She could sympathise.

Still, they seemed their happiest when she put them in the same crib and so more often than not they shared. Looking at them it felt ridiculous to disturb them when they were peaceful but she was running out of patience for her own stalling.

At their last stop at the edge of the Core Ahsoka had sought to find enough supplies to last them the whole journey. Aside from formula and muslin one of her prouder purchases had been a papoose. It was far easier to carry the two of them if she had the use of both of hands. It made her feel marginally safer as well, though she tried not to think about it. At only three weeks she had imagined that they wouldn't be much of a burden and, while true, she had underestimated the weight of them, one strapped to her back and one slung to her front. She was careful to cover their faces, images of fair skin in binary sunlight.

They were too young for any real complex or defined emotions but she felt from Luke something bright which might one day become curiosity, and from his sister some nameless feeling that came from being held and fed and comforted.

She blew out a breath.

"Come on then guys. Let's go find your uncle."

She hit the release for the door and stepped into the sun. For a moment the dry heat that washed over her was a shock the constant recycled and carbon scrubbed air. The dock she'd chosen was peripheral to the city and Mos Eisley sat before them; squat low buildings with bulbous rooves, wide streets with the occasional speeder and, so far in the distance that she could hardly see them, towering dunes. The whole place was the same colour as the desert sand she could see gathering at the edge of her windshield already. It was as though the city had been carved into the rock and worn smooth until it looked natural, like some great formation from time immemorial that had existed long before its current occupants had found it. She'd panicked when she'd had to choose where to land but luck had been on her side, there were few settlements on Tatooine, and she had closed her eyes and hoped that the nudge she felt was from the Force and not her own wishful thinking.

Mos Eisley was bigger than she had thought, though having grown up on Coruscant she normally assumed anywhere she found herself would seem impossibly quaint. But now Coruscant was lost to her she found herself thinking on the impossibility of finding one man in this hive of life, in this melting pot of a city. People went about their day, humans, Rodians, Twi'leks. She saw shops, speeders, cantinas and what even looked like a restaurant if she could call it that. She saw a droid or two, big, short and in-between. The only shared feature between them the dull sheen of their casings, eroded from the wind and the sand.

The people looked a little like that too and she ducked her head and began walking from the dock before someone caught her staring. It wouldn't do to look like she was new here, it was bad enough that she was alone.

She took a moment to reach out with the Force. She stretched her awareness as far as it would go, shifting over minds and land alike. There was mistrust and unease but nothing sharp or pointed. She might even go as far to say it didn't feel too different from Coruscant during the darkest days of the war. There was no one to report on her here and she felt nothing that might indicate there was another Force user nearby. It didn't relax her but it was good to know nonetheless. She had taken care to blend her Force signature with the children's on the ship. It had taken some tweaking and then some practice to hide not only herself but also two blazing suns in the Force but she had managed. It felt strange at first but she knew she was going to have to get used to it, she would make them all appear absolutely and utterly ordinary until they were old enough to do it for themselves.

She was distracting herself again: the uncle. That was all she had to go on. The sum of her knowledge: there was an uncle. No name, no address, no way of knowing if he was dead, alive, or if he wouldn't shut the door in her face when she showed up with two children in tow. But one problem at a time.

She was lucky that she had arrived after the suns had reached their zenith, but even now after her hour of hesitation the air was oppressively hot. She made inroads into the town, looking for any likely spot where she could ferret out information, but nothing immediately presented itself. Against her back Leia began to grizzle. Ahsoka reached back and stroked her bare little foot. Leia didn't escalate into a full cry but Ahsoka looked for a place to rest before she took it to mind.

She had made a circuit of a small portion of the town. She saw a few shops with frazzled and weather beaten looking proprietors but something stopped her from going in and asking if they knew the man she was looking for. A last resort perhaps, she wasn't sure she wanted anyone to know who she was seeking until she had to. But it became apparent that options were thin. If she had been looking for a town hall or any kind of records office she had failed miserably but the day wasn't over yet. Ordinarily she would look for a cantina or a bar, anywhere were people with information to share and a low alcohol tolerance could be found, at least that had been Master Obi-Wan's advice. But she couldn't go there with two small children strapped to her, and even if she could she certainly wouldn't.

She continued to walk and found herself back at the small establishment she had first spied from the space-dock. It wasn't as rowdy as some of the nearby bars were already becoming as the end of the day drew near, but there was a decent crowd of spacers assembled. She approached, unsure of the etiquette, before observing and following suit. She plonked herself down on one of the benches sat next to the tables and immediately took Leia from her back. It was awkward to hold both of them at the same time but it was easier with Luke in his sling. She pursed her lips and tried to drive the uncertainty from her mind. There was still a terrible voice in her mind which told her she had stolen these children from a life of contentment and safety. She couldn't picture them being awkwardly held or swaddled in second hand blankets on Alderaan. Perhaps they would have been safe; or at least perhaps one of them would have been…would this be easier if she only had one child to worry about?

She rejected the idea angrily. She gathered all the disgust and anger the thought caused and released it to the Force. She wanted nothing to with any of it.

Runners from the establishment dodged through the uneven tables, around chairs and groping hands as they delivered food and drink on dented plates and mismatched mugs. She snagged one of them and ordered her own drink and settled in to watch.

The patrons seemed mostly rough and tumble straight from the dock where her own ship was still parked. Though the atmosphere held none of the rowdiness of the cantina she could hear it the next street along, still there was an undercurrent that made her hold herself tense. These were a suspicious people. Anakin had never spoken of Tatooine except to say that he never would, and though Obi-Wan had been ever so slightly more forthcoming she knew next to nothing about the culture here. She wasn't the only woman at a table but she had the only children. She held Leia a little more quietly, pulled the muslin a little further over her face. It didn't seem the sort of place anyone came without a reason and she was unsure if she wanted to tell anyone hers.

A mug thunked down in front of her. She looked up to see one of the waitresses staring down at her. A human woman in a simple tunic with her hair pulled back. Ahsoka had no idea what that meant; was she free, a slave? Was she meant to know?

In the time she had the time to think the woman had looked down and seen the children. The corner of her mouth ticked and then she was gone again, weaving with the others.

Ahsoka sighed and looked down apprehensively at her drink. They had enough money to survive for a while, more once she sold the ship, but even so she should have known that water would be expensive. She took a small sip and put it back down. It was some kind of tea, weak and brackish but tea nevertheless.

She hadn't had tea since-

No, not here.

Something snagged on her awareness, Force or left over instinct from battle she couldn't tell. She looked up from her mug to see the waitress who had delivered it staring at her from tables away. She turned quickly when she saw that she had been noticed but Ahsoka stated. Was she out of place? Had she done something wrong? She looked around once more and- oh.

The woman had been looking at the twins.

A vague sort of plan began percolating at the back of her mind. The woman must be local to hold a job in a space-port, even once like this. On the older side so maybe she'd seen enough to know where Ahsoka could find this mysterious man named Skywalker. And if she didn't, well, there was always tomorrow.

She continued with her drink, more out of a desire to have something to do with her hands than any real thirst. She waited as the suns sank lower. Luke and Leia seemed to grow heavier as the time passed in her arms but she fed them as quietly as she could and tried not to revel in their faces, sleepy and satisfied. She hadn't managed to get them set on any sort of regular sleep schedule with the ship-board time being what it was, but they seemed content as long as she was holding them. She lowered Luke from her shoulder where she'd been rubbing his back as the nurse-droid had taught her and made direct eye contact with the waitress staring at them.

This time the woman didn't look away. Ahsoka broke first, looking back to Luke just in time to see him yawn. She smiled. It was hard not to see every little yawn and stretch and sleepy blink as a small but significant miracle. The past three weeks had been a lesson in regulation; she had lost her entire world but sometimes Leia would stop crying when she picked her up or Luke would make some small noise in his sleep and she would have to fight the urge to laugh with the joy of it.

She waited another half an hour to make her move. The shadows grew longer as the clientele thinned. She saw many settle up and leave, either back to the dock where they would bed down for the night or make their way into the city no doubt to find the seedy delights that awaited them there.

It started with her empty mug being swiped from the table. The waitress left but with a backwards glance. When she returned a moment later she laid down a fresh mug but hesitated.

"I saw you staring." Said Ahsoka, watching her face intently. It was the wrong thing to say. She saw the woman become defensive as her shoulders rose.

"We don't get many babies around these parts." The waitress said, still looking down at the children but turning to leave again.

"Wait!" Ahsoka blurted, "You can look. I only want to talk."

The waitress looked conflicted. Her eyes darted to Luke's face, still partially obscured, and then to the tables around them. Only a few were still occupied. Nervous energy thrilled through Ahsoka's veins.

She saw the moment she gave in.

Angling her body so it looked as though they were talking over the drink, perhaps haggling over a meal, the woman peered down into the faces of the twins. Leia was asleep after her feed, Luke's eyes at half mast and sinking ever lower.

"Well, I'll be a womprat." Said the woman quietly. She was still looking at the twins as something soft overtook her face. Ahsoka wondered if she should offer one of them to her to hold or if that would be pushing too far. Her hands tightened reflexively. She wouldn't be able to hand them over anyway it seemed. "They are the smallest damn children I've ever seen."

Ahsoka probed the Force once more. There was nothing malicious coming from this woman, only a sort of melancholy that she retreated from quickly. Some things were not hers to see.

"You shouldn't be round these parts with children that small." The woman said.

Ahsoka tried to wet her lips. "They've got family around here but I don't know where. I'm trying to find them." Can you help me? remained silent and unspoken in her mouth but she saw it register.

The woman straightened up, "I wish you luck then. It's a bad place to be without family and I get the feeling you're new."

This time she moved away in earnest and Ahsoka acted in desperation.

"Wait." She said again and fished in her pocket, "I'm looking for information."

The woman smiled, tight and wry. "And I'm looking for a rich man to buy me out of this place. if wishes were eopies, right?"

She turned but Ahsoka tapped her hand on the table, clenched in it a small purse. She tried not to think about how little money they had, but she saw once more the woman's simple tunic, the way that she was angled from the door and the prying eyes within. Ahsoka didn't know how to tell a free citizen from a slave but she was willing to take the chance.

"A peggat." Said the woman instantly.

Ahsoka scoffed. She might be new to Tatooine but she knew how conversation rates worked. "Twenty wupiupi."

The woman's eyes narrowed, "Two trugats."

"One."

"Done."

Ahsoka tried not to look too relieved. She also tried not to look like she had learnt the currency system of this planet about twenty hours previously. She handed over the purse and it was pocketed handily.

"What's your name?" She asked eventually.

The woman stared at her a hard moment before answering, "Elemar." She said shortly and did not ask for Ahsoka's name in return.

"I'm looking for a man." Ahsoka said, "A man named Skywalker."

Elemar gave a short bark of laughter and then looked over her shoulder to check no one had heard. She leaned in. "Girl, someone's played a nasty trick on you. No Ekkreth round here anymore. There ain't been a Skywalker about since the old lady died a few years back, none left."

Ahsoka clutched at Luke and Leia and felt the panic begin to rise. "But there has to be." She said, "I came all this way." She'd traversed an entire galaxy, stolen a child out from under the nose of the people who had sheltered her, dragged the children along behind her and now…nothing? She felt like her head was spinning. How could she be so hideously wrong? How much lower could she sink? She stopped herself from asking what else could possibly go wrong, what else could possibly be taken from her as she felt the weight in her arms. She had more at stake than just herself. "Please, there has to be one of them left."

"Just that boy of her husband's living way out on the edge of the Wastes."

Ahsoka froze.

Elemar was looking at her with a mix of pity and hard humour, "Find somewhere else, girl. Find anywhere else to raise those babies. There's a reason there ain't many kids here." She turned and left and Ahsoka didn't try to stop her.

Boy of her husband's. If the old woman was Anakin's mother, then the boy of her husband…a stepbrother. An uncle.

She tried not to think about the obvious. Anakin had been a child when he left, she knew that much. How much obligation would exist between an uncle and two children who shared no blood with him, not even a last name?

It was rejuvenating to have even the smallest amount of information and for a moment Ahsoka contemplated heading back out into the city, tracking down names and addresses and plotting her next step. But the suns were sinking lower and lower and Luke was beginning to grizzle in a way that Ahsoka knew meant a full cry was forecast. She finished her second drink quickly before bundling up the children and the meagre possessions she had brought with them. It was a short walk to the ship as crews milled around her from the neighbouring vessels. She kept her head down and her steps quick. One or two called out to her but she didn't turn. When she shut the door behind her she slumped, an unwarranted feeling of safety lapping at her mind.

She was drained, hope and desert heat having taken it out of her, but there were still many tasks. The children were fed, changed and comforted, her own ration pack sat in an unappetising cube uneaten and another night's docking fee was paid.

She was tired but it seemed to her as though her mind was alight. She was burning with plans and questions. There was much to do; tomorrow she'd have to find out this mysterious uncle's name, his dwelling and, Force-willing, something about his character. What kind of brother had Anakin had? She'd need to sell the ship, purchase a landspeeder, the day stretched infinitely out in front of her. She'd have to find the address and then…

And then what?

She'd be a strange woman turning up on his doorstep with two children unrelated to him by blood. She hadn't been on Tatooine long at all but she was willing to bet it was a hard existent, hardly the sort of life to breed an over abundance of charity. And that was what they were for, after all. It smarted to think of it but she had little in the way of things to offer. Would he be married? Would he have a wife and children? A stranger and two infants was hardy likely to be a welcome addition.

What if it was the opposite? What if he accepted the children, thanked her for delivering them to their family and promptly closed the door in her face? In her mind she saw a faceless man prying the children from her nerveless arms, turning away from her. Something in her chest ached. In only three short weeks they had become unbearably precious to her in a way she wasn't sure she was able to comprehend. She tried to imagine explaining it to herself only a month ago. Everything had changed so quickly, terribly fractured changes…but the children were worth more to her than anything she had ever seen in the galaxy. It was madness that in the course of their short lives, still measured in weeks and days that they had changed her irrevocably. She could no more give them up than she could pry the Force from her blood. She had known them every moment since their births. She knew that Luke was a quiet baby but his sister needed to be held. She knew their malleable minds and little routines.

She didn't own a shirt without some kind of spit up on it now and the strangest thing was that she didn't even mind.

She didn't want someone who didn't even know them to take them from her. Maybe if they agree to take both of them she could…she could what? She tried to imagine visiting them, seeing them grow in fits and starts, like someone flicking through a stack of flimsi. Waiting for when she was permitted to see them and hovering, always on the peripheral, on the edges of their lives should they ever need her. It made her eyes sting but she squinted against it. Everyone was gone, they were the only ones left. They were the only ones who mattered.

She didn't want to do any of that but once again, and like so many other recent instances, the galaxy didn't check with her before altering its axis. She forced down as much of her rations as she could before laying on the only bunk in the ship. She turned on her side to watch the twins in their single crib. She wanted to shuffle closer but she held herself still. Outside their little tin can she could hear the foreign sounds of Tatooine at night. Conversations, a sharp burst of laughter, swearing and the hum of engines. Far off in the distance she could hear strains of indistinct city noises. She closed her eyes and tried to block them out. Sleep came slowly. She fell asleep with hypothetical speeches and supplications running in circles through her mind. Across from her, the twins slept, silent and unaware.

—- - - —- —- — — —- — - — —- —-

When Ahsoka woke, quietly but fully, it felt like she had slept mere hours. She waited in the stillness of the early morning for something to happen, some portent or miracle, but nothing came. The ship was cool, the fans whirring as they worked past their limits, but she had no doubt today would be another day of dry heat and irradiating sun.

There was a mewl from the crib and Ahsoka swung herself from her bed before whoever it was could wake the other. Leia stared blearily upwards, her face scrunched in displeasure. Ahsoka picked her up quickly, mindful of Luke still sleeping, both his hands by his head. She paced as best she could in the cramped space and Leia quietened to small and querulous whimpers as the formula heated.

Ahsoka rocked her as she thought once more of the day ahead. It was ridiculous, utterly and terrifying laughable that these children depended entirely on her. She was better suited to leading a battalion than caring for them and yet this was the hand she had. A small and selfish part of her wanted to curse Master Obi-Wan for sending them here. If he hadn't said anything she could have take them…oh she didn't know! Somewhere better than Tatooine. Somewhere were they could blend in and not have to worry about long lost relatives and someone stealing their transport before she'd even have a chance to sell it. It was a stupid plan and she wished desperately he was still alive so that she could tell him so. She wanted to be angry with him but it was hard when the only memory she could conjure of him was her last; his hand lax in hers. She wondered if she would ever remember him properly or if it was all tainted now.

No time for grief, she reminded herself. She had a stupid plan to carry out and she was going to need all of her wits for it. She tried to steel herself for everything to come and bury the bubbling helplessness within her until a thought unbidden flitted through her mind.

Anakin had loved stupid plans.

No, no, enough. She swiped angrily at her eyes and swapped Leia for Luke as she finished feeding her. It was lucky she could feed a baby a bottle and cry at the same time, she thought irately, as lately she couldn't seem to stop.

Eventually there was nothing else to be done. Like she had done the previous day she refilled her canteen, affixed her lightsabers and donned the children once more. She swapped them, Luke on her front this time, and tried not to feel horribly vulnerable. It was better than leaving them behind could ever be. She straightened her headband of Akul teeth which had been grabbed and pulled by fat little hands.

She was better prepared for the wall of heat that greeted her this time when she opened the door but it still made her blink. It was morning and would likely only get hotter but she walked forward with more confidence than she had and soon once more found herself in the town of Mos Eisley.

Over the next few hours it felt like she traipsed in and out of every establishment on the south side of town. She went from shop, to cafe, to market over and over again. In the marketplace she had her first real breakthrough as she haggled for an off-white poncho.

"Skywalker? Oh, you mean Shmi Lars. She was a Skyalker.." Said a boy as he watched her pick up the material. He was young and seemingly happy to chatter away after her more subtle questions had yielded nothing and she had just asked him directly. "Naw, she's gone now. Just her son and his wife out there now."

"They come into town much?" She asked idly, willing him to keep talking.

"Sometimes. It's a long way to the Chott salt flat, yanno? Not much reason for a couple of moisture farmers to make the trip. Beru's always saying-"

"Beru?"

He was beginning to look at her strangely, as though he realised she was asking some rather specific questions for an offworlder. "Owen's wife." He said slowly. He looked as though he was about to say something more but Ahsoka grinned.

"I'll take this one." She said, bundling the poncho. He shook his head but his face cleared as she handed over the coins.

Her mind buzzed with excitement and she engraved the names onto her mind.

Owen and Beru Lars.

Finally.

She shrugged the poncho on awkwardly. It hadn't entirely been a ploy; the suns were beginning to beat down hard and she worried about the children. It had the added benefit of, while making her bulky and ungainly, entirely hiding both twins. She reached for them within the Force and, once satisfied, continued onwards.

There was a bounce in her step despite the heat. For the first time it seemed that finding this man had become a real possibility. While there still remained the question of what kind of man he was it was still progress. At this point any progress at all felt like cause for celebration.

She shielded her eyes and looked to the sky, judging the arc of the suns. Still a few degrees left she reckoned.

She doubled back on herself to one of the establishments she had noted earlier on her quest for information. It had a wide shop front but the wooden door frame was cracked, the step uneven. She hadn't entered before but now she needed transport. A bell rang as she opened the door.

It was a wide space, a counter at the far end and absolutely filled to the brim with disused speeder parts and mechanical scraps. Most were disarticulated, piled haphazardly, and Ahsoka picked her way carefully to the desk. There was a man there, human, likely in his 30s, who sat slumped in his chair, eyes closed and mouth agape. Behind him she glimpsed a workshop in the same sorry state and a separate anteroom where a Twi'lek woman sat hunched over a thick tome.

She cleared her throat. Nothing. She rapped her knuckles on the desk. He did not wake. She was contemplating the ethics of giving his chair a little tip with the Force when he gave a snort, sputtered and suddenly jerked awake when he saw her at the desk.

"What?" He asked her and then, "What do you want?"

She looked at him. Singularly unimpressive. His hair was greasy, his eyes dulled and from the smell on him he'd been wearing the same clothes for days on end, possibly to the same bar each time.

"I need a speeder."

"What?" He repeated.

She pursed her lips and willed herself calm. "A speeder." She enunciated slowly, "You're an auto-shop, aren't you?"

He looked around him as though he was actually trying to find the answer before nodding. "Yeah, yeah, a speeder, right. Specs?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and contemplated trying to find a better, possibly more reputable shop. But the suns were still climbing and she wanted to be on her way by the time they started falling again.

"I need something reliable, high cargo capacity and in working condition. That's it."

He blinked at her owlishly before making his way round the desk. She stepped back smartly but he didn't seem to notice. "Right." He said absently, "We've got a few in the lot. Come through."

He led her through to the workshop and around the back. He gestured at three land speeders of varying size. One she discounted immediately, propped up as it was, but the other two she considered. Both were dinted to hell and back but one of them took her attention. She lowered herself to the ground carefully, crouching beside it, and saw twin turbine engines. The power output might be compromised but-

"Oh that's the X-24." Said the proprietor around a yawn.

"X-28." She corrected absently but he didn't seem to hear her and carried on.

"Two engines, six repulsors, she'll take you straight across the dunes if you- hey!"

His shout came too late. Ahsoka hefted the bonnet and took a look at the state of the engines. Patchy to be sure, but nothing she couldn't fix surely. She didn't have time to be fussy, she wanted to be gone by this afternoon. Everything about this place was telling her not to trust this guy but the Force was running smooth around her and she decided to trust in it instead. A final check just to make sure the engines actually turned and she turned to the man.

"I'll take it."

"What?"

"I'll take it." She repeated impatiently. He gaped at her and she tried not to worry that he looked so shocked she was willing to pay. He shook himself from his stupor and tried to gouge her on the price as she walked back to the shop but she was firm. Well, that and she didn't have much money to bargain with. Speeders didn't exactly come cheap and this represented the bulk of the money she had managed to eke from the sale of their ship. In fact with this chunk gone…one problem at a time. It was becoming a constant refrain.

Half an hour later she was the semi-proud owner of one speeder. She drove it back to the ship to shelter for midday. It ran but that was about all she could say for it. Either a stabiliser was misaligned or one of the repulsors wasn't pulling its weight but she wound their unsteady way back to the space dock with the two children in the front seat next to her. It felt horribly unsafe and she resolved to find some way to cannibalise their crib and fix it to the front seat before they took their long journey.

She saw to the children once they were through the door, and settled them best she could. She thought back to her earlier conversations. She'd bought a map from the last port they hit before Tatooine and she spread it out across the table. Elemar had said that the Larses lived on the edge of the wastes. Tatooine contained a great many wastes but only one abutted Mos Eisley. She traced the edge of the Jundland Wastes as they intersected with the other features of the map. She squinted and leaned closer…there! A small area, impossible to judge from just the paper but she was hopeful, labelled as the Chott salt flats, just like the market boy had told her. She sat back and looked at it in amazement. Such a small thing, a name and a search area and yet it had cost her two days and nearly all the money she had.

"Buckle up, kids." She murmured as she folded the map away, stowing it on her person. "I've got a good feeling about this."

They waited out the worst of the midday heat together before she was satisfied that they could leave. Then came the packing, the checking, the rechecking and the soothing as Leia decided she'd rather scream than leave the ship. Taking care of younglings involved a lot more planning than some of the battle strategies she had had helped to orchestrate.

But nonetheless, soon they were away; children tied in their makeshift car seat as safely as she could manage and Mos Eisley growing to be little more than a shimmer in her tarnished mirror. It would take a couple of hours to reach the salt flat if they were going at a decent clip, which they most decidedly were not, and Ahsoka accepted the fact that she may have been swindled as the repulsors grew shakier. Still, she did not stop. The journey gave her enough time to think which was dangerous and one of the things she was most trying to avoid. She tried to focus on the present.

Should she have brought a gift?

Wait, would that be weird? Would it give the wrong impression? What was the right impression? Strangely enough the Temple lectures on diplomacy and cultural sensitivity had never covered this exact situation.

She gave up on thinking and tried to focus on her breathing. She measured her breathes against the irregular hum of the engines and regulated the rise and fall of her chest. When she felt she had herself back under control it was second nature to dart a glance at the children. She had insulated them the best she could but it was a worry nonetheless. It was unlikely they could hear her and in all honestly it was more for herself than them but she sang quietly to them as she had on Alderaan and hoped that they at least slept while they could.

All to soon she saw the tell tale gleam of a salt flat on the horizon. It could still take her hours she told herself, after all the flat was a klick square, she might still have time to prepare-

Nope. There it was. On the flat landscape a homestead arose in the distance. She could only see the dome of it from this far but there was no denying what it was. She resisted the urge to reach out with the Force, but this was their home, not hers. She would approach with all the courtesy Obi-Wan had tried to drill into her.

As she grew closer details became more apparent. The homestead was a gleaming white and larger than she imagined. Around it and spacing out towards her spiny shapes and thin spires rose from the ground; moisture vaporators, she realised. The boy at the market had said they were farmers. She didn't see any people.

She killed the engine and it fell silent with a grateful sputter. She took her time extracting Luke and Leia and for a moment just held them close to her. She could feel them in her mind, perfectly content now that she held them, not caring anything for the outside world. She took another breath and kissed both of them on the head before she could think better of it. She had no memory of infants at the Temple but there was no one to warn her against attachment here. She strapped them carefully to her once more and swept the light poncho over them to protect them from the glare of the suns.

She set out from her speeder. It was a fair walk from where they had set down but distances were difficult to judge out in the desert she was finding. She walked past more vaporators and tried to concentrate on what she was going to say when she found them. She tried to picture Owen Lars but all she could see was an older and more worn Anakin. It hardly helped. She decided to focus on putting one foot in front of the other instead.

She was so focused on her footfall that she found she didn't look up until a voice broke her concentration.

"That's close enough, girl."

She looked up to see a woman. She was standing on the threshold of the farm looking straight at her. She was older than Ahsoka, though she couldn't tell how much by, and dressed in a loose tunic and trousers. Her hair was pulled back, her face pinched and slung across her body on a strap was an honest-to-Force slug thrower. Ahsoka's blood went cold when she saw it. She wasn't sure how quickly she would be able to move with the children slung across her like this.

"There's nothing for you here." The woman- Beru?- called out to her, "We saw you walking over long enough to have you think better of whatever trouble you're planning on causing. Why don't you just turn right back round again, hm?"

Ahsoka squinted against the sun and tried to get a better look at the woman. Her mouth was dry.

"Are you Beru Lars?" She managed.

The woman's hands didn't move from the weapon around her neck though she made no move to aim it. "That depends on the day of the week and who's asking."

Ahsoka tried again, "Please, I need your help. I'm trying to find Owen Lars, does he live here?"

Beru's voice was arch and she moved closer, each step wary. "And what business do you have with my husband?" She asked.

Relief flooded Ahsoka despite the situation; at the very least she was in the right place. "I need to talk to him. I..please, I was told to come here. I was told that you'd help us."

"Who by? Who said that?" Beru said sharply.

Ahsoka's carefully practiced words from the night before buzzed around her mind but she couldn't catch a single one. She looked at Beru desperately. She could only think of one possible option available to her.

Carefully, and painfully slowly, she lifted her hands. Beru said nothing but her body was tight with tension. Wary of any sudden moves Ahsoka slowly lifted the poncho from her body and slung it over her shoulder. Leia's face, round cheeks, pursed rosebud of a mouth and tuft of dark hair, emerged from the cocoon. From behind Luke kicked against her back.

"My name is Ahsoka Tano and this is Luke and Leia Skywalker. We need your help."

Beru's face was slack with surprise, lips parted eyes wide. The slug-thrower hung loosely around her neck, untouched.

"Well," She said eventually, " I suppose you'd better come in."

Ahsoka walked forward cautiously under Beru's watchful eye. When she drew even with her Ahsoka saw that her skin was tanned but clean, her tunic well made and her hands were absolutely steady on her rifle. For a moment she wondered if Beru was making the same assessment of her but Beru was looking solely at the children, something like wonderment in her eyes. Ahsoka passed her and tried to send reassurance and comfort to the children.

She looked at the threshold before her and at long last stepped into the cool of the shadows.

When she looked back on those early days on Tatooine Ahsoka would always be aware that she would not have survived without the intervention of Beru and Owen.

From that first night she turned up on their doorstep Owen and Beru sheltered her and the twins without a whisper of complaint. It was an unusual feeling and it made her feel restless to know that she was a burden. She would have helped in any way she could have but her knowledge here was out of place and her skills useless. She wondered what they made of her, a girl just stumbling in from the desert, but she found it hard to read them. The only thing she knew with any certainty was that whatever uncertain footing she found herself on, both of the Larses were in awe of the children.

"Children aren't common here." Beru told her absently as she played with Leia on her first night, "It's a hard place to live, let alone raise children."

It reminded her of Elemar and how she had only stopped because of the children and she said nothing, a sudden lump in her throat. Beside his wife Owen was holding Luke, completely lost to the child in his arms.

Owen was nothing like she had imagined. Gone was her image of some sort of Anakin stand in; this man was a far cry from her former master. Tall and broad, with rugged features and a head of dark hair already greying at the temples he reminded her of the sandstone blocks that formed Mos Eisley; suited to the desert but worn smooth by it. His face was shrewd, his voice broadly accented but implacable. He had accepted her slightingly stuttered story with an air of finality and she had no wish to know what it would take to perturb him. He had listened to the whole sorry tale and his only question had been whether he could hold one of the children.

Her heart clenched when she looked at the both of them. It was difficult to tell herself that these people were family, and that however distantly they might be related they had a better claim to the children than her. It is their right, she told herself, they had a right that Ahsoka would never have.

"Always knew no good would come of it." Owen said suddenly, his voice was low and gruff but Luke didn't stir. "People won't question them."

"Question what?" She asked, not following.

"Lot of spacefaring people round here and a lot of 'em don't make it back. Couple of kids won't rock the boat." He said before taking a last look at the child he held. He passed Luke back to Ahsoka and she held him tightly. They had retrieved the supplies from her landspeeder and brought it to the farmstead. Both children had had the formula she'd packed and she could feel Luke slipping into a doze in her arms.

"I should-"

"You can stay in the spare room tonight." He said cutting across her.

"No, really I should-"

It was useless. He'd already turned his back and left, presumably to the room he had told her she would be using.

Beru smiled at her bewilderment. "They'll be no getting back into the city tonight. We can talk about it in the morning." With that she handed back Leia reluctantly and bustled off to help her husband.

Ahsoka was lost but in what seemed like no time at all she was installed in the spare room and summarily left alone. Slowly, she began the process of putting the children to bed, still reeling. She had answers now but no more certainty than she had had that morning. Would the Force ever stop propelling her quickly enough that she could catch her breath, she thought as she looked down at the two babies who would have to share her mattress tonight. She took the outer edge and forwent the blanket left for them as she tried to take in every minute detail of them. In the low light she could see only the outline of their bodies, the flail of Leia's legs and the turn of Luke's head.

Her world revolved around them now.

"I love you." She whispered to them as though the darkness would seal the secret between just themselves. "I love you." Forbidden words, dangerous words, and a sentiment that all of her Jedi teaching told her to abstain from. But how could she hold herself apart from the children who were all she had left in the galaxy? Even she knew that children needed to be loved and it just so happened she did. No matter what she had been taught she did love them and she knew deep in her heart that she would not be able to stop.

But the sky did not collapse, the desert did not tear down the walls. How terrible could it be to love motherless children?

She drifted towards sleep with the oddly defensive notion of love still reverberating in her chest. When Luke woke only an hour later and in turn woke his sister she calmed them both the best she could and when Leia did the same not two hours later she repeated the same actions.

Far too late to turn back.

Her first hint that morning had arrived came in the form of the small noises that accompanied a household waking. She opened her eyes blearily and it felt like she had barely rested at all. She rubbed her face and rose. There was a whole new day to face.

When she emerged from the room the Larses were already in the kitchen. She brought the children one at a time and Beru lit up when she saw them.

Owen was sat at a table, and once she had Luke Beru took a chair beside him. Hesitantly, Ahsoka joined them.

There was silence for a long moment and she wondered if she should break it. Beru offered food, which she did not accept, and bantha milk, which she did, thanking her afterwards. Owen scrutinised her over his own food when she did not accept hers. She had no wish to accept any more of their charity than she had to but more than that she'd learned the hard way that her physiology may look similar to a human from the outside but was in no way the same. She'd watched Anakin eat all manner of disgusting things over the course of the war and never been once tempted to join him. Togrutas ate a carnivore diet like any respectably predator species, she had told him primly and laughed at the face he pulled. She had supplies back at her ship. It wouldn't hurt her this once to go without.

The silence continued.

Eventually Owen finished eating and turned to Beru, "We could set them up on the old Sandmarch homestead. No one's been out that far since the old man moved away."

Ahsoka choked.

Beru nodded consideringly. "It's barely ten klicks from here." She told Ahsoka, who was still gaping. "It's been abandoned for a good few years but the structure's sound. It's far enough out from town no one will remember to bother you."

"And if they do you'll see them coming." Said Owen gruffly.

"But I can't…I don't-" She was sputtering but there was nothing she could do to stop it. She couldn't form a coherent sentence with both of them looking at her patiently as though she was the one who had gone insane. "I thought…"

Beru took pity on her. "You thought we'd take them?"

Unwilling to risk speaking again, Ahsoka nodded.

"Do you want us to?" Beru asked.

"That's not the point!"

Owen looked at her. "Give us a straight answer, no banthashit. Do you want us to take them or not?"

She couldn't look at them. She'd come all the way, stolen and lied and left her ruin of a life in the hope that she could keep these two children safe and now at the end of it she didn't want to give them up. It was a level of selfishness that should disgust her but there was no room for it with the dangerous well of love that existed in her chest now.

"No." She said quietly.

"Well then," he said definitively, "that's that." She looked up and expected to see disappointment, anger and terrible, terrible hurt. It was what she imagined Bail and Breha had looked like when they realised what she had done but it was not the same. Owen looked calm and Beru was cooing quietly to Luke, her face smiling.

"But they're not related to me."

"Nor us." He said, and sighed, "Family doesn't mean blood, especially here. My father loved Shmi and she loved her boy. That makes his children family, whether he wanted it or not. I'll help you to help them. That's family."

It was a painful lesson she had learnt before; she had never known her birth family, or if she had she had not been old enough to remember them, but she had never felt their lack. Family had meant the other initiates, it had meant Anakin and then later Obi-Wan. It had meant the Jedi.

She wondered if it could really be that simple, if the solution could possibly be so black and white. It didn't seem right after the haught and grandeur of Coruscant, the intrigues of Alderaan and the creeping desperation of the Mid-Rim that someone would help them just because of the tenuous link that bound them together. Just because they needed help. It put her off balance to think of this kindness, missing from so many grand places, and yet found here in the middle of the desert.

Beru looked at her and the kindness in her face made Ahsoka feel even less steady than she already was.

"How old are you, Ahsoka?"

Ahsoka blinked at the unexpected question. For a moment she considered lying but her age was hardly the most damning factor against her.

"Seventeen."

If she had expected shock or exclamations there were none. Beru looked at Owen who shrugged.

"Old enough." Was all he said.

"And long have you been here?" Beru asked.

Ahsoka tried to smile, "On Tatooine? This is my third day." She said.

Beru nodded. She looked softer like this, in her own home, the weapons out of sight. Softer and, perhaps, more tired. "People aren't pleasant here Ahsoka, and it's a hard life. The Hutts practically run the place, people are sold into slavery every day and the laws are as corrupt as the people who make them. The laws of the desert are easier. If you can keep something safe, if you can protect it, then you can have it. Can you keep them safe?"

Ahsoka felt the weight of her lightsabers clipped to her belt and hidden under the folds of her clothes as they always were. She had spent the last three years of her life on battlefields, she had killed people, hunted and been hunted and she had survived it all. She had been shot at, duelled and left for dead. And all of that was long before she had the motivation she had now.

Her teeth felt sharp.

"Yes." She said and it felt like finding herself again to hear her voice so strong. "Yes I can."

Owen looked at her and the directness of it was startling, but not as startling as what happened next. For the first time since she had shown up on his doorstep with two children and an unlikely story, he smiled. A twitch of a thing, a small twist of the mouth, but a smile nonetheless.

"Well then," he said, "looks like we've got our work cut out for us."