Chapter 5--The Understudy
The credit toss yielded a name: Altranda-Yar, one of the two habitable planets (out of five) in the Yar system. At first, Beru was leery. The Yar system wasn't a settler one. The natives disliked humanoids. On the other hand, it would be an unusual place to find a Squad. She decided that it was worth exploring, anyway. She worried about dragging the child around incessantly, moving just for the sake of moving. Yet no place they had encountered so far had felt right. Her talent in the Force was purely instinctual. When she found the right place to hide, she was convinced that she would know it.
It soon proved that Altranda-Yar was not the place. Beru soon decided the planet offered too few opportunities for employment, but they were unable to leave immediately. Luke had picked up a virus in transit, and they were stuck in a small hostel for a full week while he recovered. As the time passed, Beru grew more and more anxious. Her alarm bells were ringing off the hook. On the last day of the week, her fears proved fully justified when she looked up from Luke's cot to discover a young man scowling at her from the doorway.
Beru recognized him immediately. It was Owen Lars.
She smiled ruefully to herself. Ben really thinks I'm a hard sell, I see, she thought, when he doesn't even come after us himself. Sends his younger brother to do the job. So easy a task, even Owen could do it. She sighed.
The Jedi Knights as a group managed to agree on just one thing: Owen Lars Kenobi was a complete zero. He was ten years younger than Ben, taller, heavier, darker and an absolute opposite in temperament. He had none of Ben's charm or charisma: he was a sullen, dour young man. He did have Force talent, but typically, perhaps, it was a negative one. He was what was known in Jedi history as a 'suppressor'-a Jedi who could damp or suppress the powers of other Force-adepts. Suppressors were relatively rare, and Owen, if his personality had been different, might have attracted a good deal of attention from the other Knights. But attention of any kind caused him to withdraw into himself. The other Knights quickly decided that there was nothing in him, and left him alone.
Beru could not say that she knew him well. In the five years that she had been Ben Kenobi's aide, he had always been around, scowling in the background. She had wondered why, if he was so unhappy, he did not just leave the Knights, but she had not cared enough to put this to him directly. She was adept at discerning other people's feelings--but she could not read Owen's. He could suppress himself as well.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped.
"Ben sent me," he replied, gruffly.
"I know that! What do you want?"
"You took something that doesn't belong to you. Ben wants it back," he pointed at the baby. Luke stared up at Owen from the safety of Beru's arms. She could sense his anxiety. He turned and buried his face in her neck.
"He's not going back," she said flatly.
"What's wrong with you, Beru? That kid isn't yours."
"What's your point?"
Owen scowled. "The point is, we're going back to Nineveh. Now! Get him ready."
"How? Are you planning to force me?"
"You don't have to come, if you don't want to. He does."
Beru sat down, and motioned Owen Lars to do the same. Somewhat to her surprise, he did so.
"Look, Owen, I didn't take him for no reason at all. I had to get him away from his mother."
"Why?"
"She was going to kill him." Even to Beru's own ears, it sounded lame.
Owen snorted. "She was going to kill her own son? Oh, come on."
"Did you talk to Dr. Sydos?"
"I didn't talk to anybody. Ben gave me his usual orders." This was said in such a deadpan tone, Beru could not tell if the remark was resentful or not.
"Which were?"
"Apparently Amidala told him you went crazy and made off with the kid. He told me to retrieve him."
"And do you believe that I'm crazy?"
Owen shrugged. He quite obviously hadn't bothered speculating.
"Ben doesn't believe it, does he?" Beru said shrewdly, "Otherwise, he'd have come after us himself."
Owen bristled. "Thank you for that vote of confidence," he snarled.
"Any time. And if you don't want to be called a lackey, don't act the part."
Owen surged to his feet. Glaring down at Beru, he hissed, "Get him ready. Now! No arguments-I'll take him from you if I have to."
Beru squared her chin, her eyes glittering. She got up, slowly and deliberately, hoisting Luke to her shoulder. She could feel that he was upset, and soothed him as much as she could. She opened her mouth and managed to say, "Wait here."
Owen stopped her. "Leave him with me."
Owen was fortunate that Beru could not kill with a look; otherwise, he would have been dead at her feet. She didn't move, so Owen came to her and took Luke from her stiff arms. The little boy began to wail, on a rising note of panic.
"Hurry up," Owen said curtly.
Beru fled to the other room and began collecting her belongings as quickly as she could. Her hands were trembling. She could still hear Luke's protests from the other room; worse, she could feel his oncoming Force tantrum. It was cut off abruptly. She realized that Owen was suppressing it. He had his uses.
She stuffed everything hurriedly into two carryalls. When she returned to the outer room, she discovered Owen holding a howling Luke at arm's length. The Jedi looked as though he would sell his soul for a stiff drink. Stifling an unflattering description of Owen's ancestry and personal habits, she dropped the carryalls, and caught up the baby. He sobbed against her shoulder.
"It's all right, Luke, don't cry. I'm here. Don't cry, sweetheart."
The baby gradually stopped crying, hiccuping pathetically. Beru rubbed his back. Owen looked disgusted.
"Is he always this noisy?" he asked.
Beru glared at him. "You're scaring him," she said coldly.
Owen muttered something unpleasant under his breath. Beru ignored it.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"To Shakolt first," Owen said. Shakolt was the major planet in the neighbouring system. "We can't get a direct flight out from here; we're going to have to space-hop a bit. We don't want to attract attention, so Ben got me some fake ID. There's one for you, too, and the baby's on it."
Owen handed her a galaxy passport made out in the name of Nira Rallater, accompanied by infant son Narin.
"What's your name?" Beru asked suspiciously.
"Xell Rallater," Owen muttered.
"Oh, are we married? What a surprise!"
"It just looks better. Luckily the kid looks enough like you to pass as your son."
Beru had to agree. If Luke had shared his sister's looks, it might never have worked. But his fair colouring was a good match for hers, and they both had a square chin. It would cover the fact that he looked nothing like Owen Lars.
Altranda-Yar had a regular daily shuttle flight to and from Shakolt. Owen had caught the flight in, and he hurried them down to the space port to catch the same-day flight out. He wants to get out of here before I can think of a way to shake him, Beru thought bitterly. As they waited for the shuttle, some of the other waiting passengers at the port smilingly complimented her on Luke's seraphic appearance. That's all they know, she grinned to herself. Luke was, for a wonder, quiet. Owen Lars' suppression of his Force-tantrum appeared to subdue him. However, Beru considered Owen to be the weak link in the illusion. He had no notion of how to behave like a convincing husband and father; he stood by himself on the landing platform, scowling to himself and ignoring her and Luke. She intercepted several sympathetic looks from the other passengers. Sighing, she carried Luke over to where Owen was standing, and muttered into his ear, "You're blowing it."
"What?'
"At least *try* to look as though we sleep together."
Owen turned bright red.
"You're supposed to be my husband and--" she searched her memory for Luke's alias--"Narin's father. Talk to me. Chuck him under the chin, for Hoth's sake. Look as though we have some connection to you. And stop scowling!"
Owen's blush faded. Almost painfully, he smoothed out his features, and rearranged them into a hard, tight-lipped smile.
"Will this do?" He whispered sarcastically.
"You look homicidal. Here," she reached into the carryall and gave him a baby toy, "Play with him."
Gritting his teeth, Owen offered the toy to Luke, who took it and staring at Owen as he did so, immediately dropped it. It looked deliberate, and Beru reckoned it was. She knew enough about Luke not to underestimate him. Owen, with an air of exaggerated patience, stooped down and retrieved it. When he gave the toy back to Luke, he kept one end of it in his hand. He's learning, Beru thought, amused.
Later, when Owen went to collect their boarding passes, he took Luke with him. Beru supposed he feared that she would bolt with the baby if he left him alone with her, and she admitted to herself that he was probably right. While she stewed about her situation, a young man appeared beside her.
"Going to Shakolt?" he asked. Beru nodded absently, still mentally examining her predicament.
"That's nice. So am I. Perhaps I could buy you a drink after we board?"
Beru was a little amused. Toting a baby around on her hip had insulated her from this sort of approach for the last few months. She was no longer used to it. He won't be so interested when he sees Luke, she thought to herself. Inadvertently, she smiled. The young man smiled back at her.
Laughing a little, she said, "You're too kind."
"Not at all," he responded. "I was just dazzled by the beauty standing in front of me."
Laying it on thick, Beru thought, laughing again.
Suddenly Beru became aware of a fiercely hostile presence. Owen was standing behind her, Luke squirming restlessly in his arms. Usually she could not discern Owen's feelings at all, due to his ability to suppress them through the Force. Not this time, though. He was glowering at her would-be admirer.
"Oh, this is my husband--Xell. And my son."
The man's face fell, but he gave Owen a brave smile, and said, "Pleased to meet you."
Owen didn't answer. Wordlessly, he handed Luke to Beru. The young man's face looked woeful as he inspected the baby. Still glaring, Owen gave a jerk of his head, which clearly indicated in which direction he wished the interloper to go. The hint was quickly taken. Owen scowled bitterly at his retreating back. Luke, observing Owen's expression with interest, quickly produced an infant version of it, which sat curiously on his unformed features. Beru couldn't help herself: she laughed. Owen was unamused.
"And you complained about me," he whispered angrily to Beru, "You're supposed to be a wife and mother and here you are flirting with space port trash!"
Beru swallowed a hasty retort. Owen *was* right--they were both still acting like free agents.
"All right, point taken. I thought he was harmless. And you were great. I didn't know you had it in you."
Owen looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"That imitation of someone whose territory has just been invaded! It was priceless!" She laughed again, but Owen still didn't smile.
She said, "Seriously, Owen, we have to get our cover story straight. As it is, we'd never get past an Imperial interrogation."
Owen agreed sullenly. He had booked a tiny stateroom on the ship, and they used it to rehearse their story in private. Under her surface complaisance, though, Beru's mind was ticking away, considering every angle of her situation. Shakolt was still a few hours away. It was large, heavily populated planet, and she didn't doubt that she and Luke could give Own the slip there, given the right circumstances.
She put Luke down for a nap. Luckily, he was tired, and dropped off quickly. She took off her shoes and laid down beside him in the bunk.
"Well," she said to Owen, "where do we go after Shakolt?" Better try to make him think that she had given up on escaping, though she wasn't sure he was at all convinced by the act.