Chapter Fifteen--Night Thoughts
Owen's prediction proved accurate. Luke was broadcasting loud and clear. Beru was horrified to note that he was doing it through the Force, raggedly, but very strongly, especially considering his age. She could feel his fear and distress like a blast of pain. If he kept it up, he'd have every Jedi Extermination Squad in the Middle Rim down on them in no time flat.
Obviously, Ben had come to the same conclusion. He was waiting for them, alongside the path to the shuttle-port, his face hard and set. Luke writhed in his arms. Beru had not seen the child have a Force-tantrum for many months. Now she saw with alarm that he had become much more adept at it. The sun was shining brightly, except for the small area around Ben and Luke. There the air was dark, wind lashed at Ben's robes, and a throbbing noise assaulted the ears. When Luke caught sight of Beru, the darkness lightened, the wind died, and the noise stopped. He gave an absurd little yelp, and held out his arms to her. Beru gathered him in her arms. Ben did not attempt to stop her--this time.
Ben and Owen stood facing each other, silently. Beru backed away with Luke until Owen was in front of her.
"What is Sith's name have you been doing--giving him Force lessons?" Ben said, exasperated.
"He's just doing what comes naturally--no lessons given, or needed," Beru said. She felt defensive, though why she should, she did not know.
Ben stepped closer to her, and found Owen's shoulder intervening.
"Keep your distance," Owen muttered.
Ben glared at him, but he fell back.
"You see, don't you, Beru, how difficult the child is. Too difficult for you to handle," Ben said. "He'll give you away to the Imperials--"
"You caused the disturbance," Beru said, shortly. "In more ways than one."
Ben drew his robe around him. "Since you keep bringing it up," he said, with an edge to his usually soft voice, "yes, I've done things that I now regret. I'm doing my best to make it better, can't you see that?"
"Assault and battery does assuage the soul," Beru said.
Ben stiffened. He wasn't used to back-talk from her. Beru realized antagonizing him wasn't going to help matters, and would probably make them worse, but she couldn't seem to stop it.
"Very well," Ben said, sighing. "We'll do it the hard way. Since the child appears to require your presence, you'll have to come with us."
"And Owen?" Beru said.
"We'll dispense with Owen's company, since I can no longer trust him," Ben said coldly.
Ben was not quite in control of himself, Beru thought. She could sense that he was angry--but the anger was more with Owen than with her. He had never much valued his brother, but he had trusted him, and Owen's defection infuriated him. If you looked at it from Ben's point of view, Beru supposed, it did look like a betrayal. First Anakin; then her; then Owen. The fabric of Ben's life was crumbling, and he was not taking it well.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Beru said defiantly.
Ben gave her a half-amused look. "Changed your tune, haven't you?" he said. He lifted his chin in Owen's direction and said: "How long will it be before he figures out he's second choice?"
"I know that already," Owen said. His voice was expressionless.
Ben stared at him. "And doesn't it matter to you?"
"It matters," Owen said, staring back "Just as it mattered to Anakin."
Ben flinched, keeping control over his temper with a visible effort. "And does it matter that she'll ditch you just as soon as you stop being useful? Or don't you care?" he asked sharply.
"You have a really high opinion of me, don't you?" Beru interjected.
"I used to," Ben said, and turned away.
"I used to, too," Beru said, in a half whisper. Owen glanced at her, and then quickly looked away.
"Enough of this," Ben said, his back to them. "Beru, I want you to pack. For yourself and the boy. If you want to return here to Owen after we've delivered the child to his mother," he gave his brother an ironic glance, "I can hardly stop you, can I? Of course, you'll have to answer to the Order for your behavior first. Breaking your oath--not to mention assault, kidnaping and theft. I doubt the Council will be impressed. No doubt you'll be cashiered. Owen, too. You've both spent the whole of your adult lives as Jedi Knights. You've worked hard at it, both of you. What other life do you know? Why is this worthwhile for a child that isn't related to either of you?"
"The child isn't related to you, either," Beru said. "Yet here you are, trying to retrieve him. There must a dozen places where you'd be more useful at a time like this, isn't there? So why are *you* here?"
There was an uneasy silence.
Ben said, regretfully "I don't want to have to force you--" He drew his lightsaber.
"Then don't," Owen said. His own lightsaber appeared in his hand.
The pain was bad tonight, he could not sleep. The nights often felt very long, and this one longer than most. He could not rest. He could take pain-killers, he supposed. No: that brought on the nightmares. He would meditate, then. The Force would help him.
Usually, when he meditated, his visions were fragmentary and confusing, but this one took shape with frightening speed. He could see a woman. Pale hair. He knew her, didn't he? From his past. He remembered that she had been absently kind to him, once upon a time. Long ago. After a painful effort, his battered memory supplied her name: Beru. The vision came into clearer focus. There was a bundle in her arms--then he saw it was a small child. Was it hers? He was confused. Someone had told him--had it been her?--that she couldn't have children. Yet the child resembled her. A little boy, he thought. Perhaps her condition had responded to medical treatment. Unlike his. She was standing at the edge of a clearing in a wooded area, clutching the child tightly in her arms. He face was dirty and tear-stained. He frowned. Something was wrong.
Then he saw the men. They burst into the vision in a flash of kinetic energy. Both were wielding lightsabers. Their fight seemed speeded up, so that he could barely follow it. He cringed at the near-misses of the lightsabers; his flesh remembered the pain. Finally, he recognized the slower and heavier of the two men. His form wasn't as fluid as that of the other man, yet he parried every blow. Again a name typed into his brain: Owen. He remembered him now. Quiet. Not the sort to fight anyone. What was going on?
The other man was moving very quickly, so quickly that he had to concentrate very hard even to catch a glimpse of him. His form was classic, elegant. His saber trailed blue ribbons of light. Who was it? His breath rushed from his lungs when he finally recognized him: it was Obi-Wan. His heart beat rapidly. He could hear his life-support systems protesting.
Obi-Wan was too fast: he was winning the duel. He could feel the distress of the watching woman. If Obi-Wan won, it would be bad for her. He knew this, but he could not discern why. Was Owen the child's father?
The woman put the child down, and stepped in front of him. She drew her own lightsaber. The blade had a an odd coppery glow. Owen saw her: Obi-Wan, concentrating on his prey, did not. His back was to her. She raised her lightsaber over her head, two-handed. The child wailed behind her. She did not look back, but Obi-Wan did. His mouth opened in a scream. The sound was high and full of panic. Then he realized that he was the one screaming. The vision vanished abruptly.
He tried to retrieve it, again and again, but nothing happened.
What did it mean? Why was Obi-Wan fighting his brother? Why did Beru attack him? She had, he recalled, always been in love with him--it had been a joke among the Knights. Had he gone to the Dark Side? No--it was not that. The child was the key, he could sense it. The Force was trying to tell him something; but he could not grasp it.
Finally he remembered the prophecy. The one who would restore balance to the Force. Qui-Jon had thought *he* was the one. He tried to smile, but his facial muscles hurt too much. Obviously, Qui-Jon had been wrong about that. Had Obi-Wan found another candidate? He thought back over the vision. He had sensed the Force strongly in the child. If he were Owen and Beru's son, then it was possible that he was the one of the prophecy. Yet why were they fighting Obi-Wan? Owen was his brother, Beru his loyal aide. There must be some reason that the Force was showing him this. He knew it was important for him to solve the puzzle, but he could not fit the pieces together. His head ached.
He tried meditation again. This time he saw a dark room. A woman was crouched in a corner. There was a veil over her face, but he knew her anyway: Amidala. There was a whimpering cry. It wasn't her, though. She crawled over to a pile of blankets and carefully picked something up. It was too dark to see what it was. She cautiously lit a glow-rod. Now he could see that it was a baby. Not the one in the previous vision, though. This one had dark coloring. Something--the Force?--told him that it was a girl. Amidala soothed it, whispering endearments. Whose baby was it? The baby she had miscarried after the wedding? Was the Force showing him an alternative future? If this baby had lived, would it have fulfilled the prophecy? He wanted to reach out Amidala, to plead with her to uncover the child's face so that he could get a clearer view, but no words came. The vision faded.
He was trembling, and he couldn't stop. He believed that the Force was telling him that the prophecy would be fulfilled. He knew that he should tell his Master. Yet he did not.