HOMECOMING
by fyre
FEEDBACK: a_sayyar2118@hotmail.com
TEASER: The first Trilogy's story from a slightly skewered view. What if Amidala had refused to separate her children? (and the chaos that ensues!)
TIME LINE/CATEGORY: Archive: Between the Trilogies Alternate Universe. Set from post Episode III (I assume) through Episode VI The Return of the Jedi.
RATING: PGish Violence, some language, mentions of abuse.
DISCLAIMER: No major plot-lines, characters, setting, or major events alluded to in this story are mine in any way. Some of the dialogue is pulled straight from the movies or from Lucas authorized novelizations for the sake of continuity and is thus logically NOT mine. No money is being made off this story. Please ask author before reproducing or posing anywhere else.
SPECIAL THANKS TO: My sisters who late late one night when we were hardly lucid had this miraculous and ingenious (or stupid and weird depending on your personal opinion! grin) grain of idea which I enjoyably turned into a story neither of them will want to read anyway! :)
And to Kaly who's indispensable feedback and grammar help has been invaluable! ;P
NOTES: Words that are ** are thoughts or there for emphasis, ( ) are for flashbacks whether whole scenes or just words half remembered, // indicates thought projections or telepathy. And I apologize in advance for the grammar and spelling mistakes that got by me!
WARNING: I've made some significant changes to the first parts of this story so you may have to reread before you get to the new stuff.
PROLOGUE~
(The boy . . .)
(What about the boy?)
( . . . His mother . . . the risk . . . )
(What about the girl? His sister . . .)
"Luke" she whispered, eyes dark like their mother's, just as sad. She was curled under their mother's covers in her strangely empty bed, heavy with the faint spicy perfume that had clung to her hair as well as the sheets. Her hand reached out to draw him under the makeshift tent she had made with the blankets, to hide from the voices echoing out in the corridor.
(. . . the father . . . Emperor's horror . . . )
In the darkness she held onto him, her own dark hair atangle, so different from his own sandy hair and blue eyes; like his father, his mother used to whisper to him as if it were some deadly unspoken secret. His sister's hair caught in his fingers, knotted.
(. . . Jedi . . .what about--)
Their mother used to braid her hair but she wasn't there to do it today, or tomorrow, or the day after . . .
(What about the boy?)
He hid deeper under the covers, somehow frightened, clutching tight to his sister, the only one he had left. His mother had told him to look out for her. No matter what he'd never let her go.
****
THE BEGINNING~
The space port was like half a dozen others the boy had had the unfortunate pleasure of visiting over the last five years. Through some careful sneaking, ingenuity, and a little luck he'd survived.
Just.
It also helped to have light fingers. That boy on Corellia had told him he was the best he'd seen in a while which he took some small pride in. No one noticed the urchin with filthy overlarge clothes that strung his way nimbly through the crowd, carefully brushing close to aliens and offworlders alike trying not to draw notice to his light quick movements. And that was just the way he liked it.
Imperial credits, loose change, an occasional bauble or Old Republic piece-- he tucked them all away into his sleeve, his shirt, his belt, his shoes . . .
Even when a Bothan turned his sharp, suspicious attention towards his suspect movements, he simply held very very still and whispered under his breath a mantra of safety.
*"I'm not here, I'm not here, you can't see me, I'm not here . . . "*
It seemed to work and he would skitter back to his temporary resting place (never *Home,* never). Ships were leaving every hour; he'd pick one at random, hop on board and hope for the best. Port authorities were becoming too curious and he'd rather deal with spacers than them any day. He'd leave this system without knowing its name heading for some distant outpost not knowing its name either. It had been that way before, it would be that way again. The stars needed no names for him like they did the spacers. Sullust, Calamari, Coruscant it was all the same only greener, busier, wetter, darker. Space still held its appeal, the empty far reaches interrupted by systems in which ordinary people made their homes. Maybe this time he'd go someplace warm. He shivered. It had been a long time since he'd been warm.
****
He hadn't planned on being caught.
In truth he hadn't planned on stealing from the cloaked man in the first place. He looked poor, unobtrusive, forgettable, blending in and disappearing into the woodwork as it were. Like himself. But the stranger had caught his eye earlier that rotation when he had first exited his transport and he had trailed him through the crowd to his lodgings, a temporary thing to be sure. There was something about him, something that made him take the risk, something that drew him inexorably closer. He shook his head. Such thoughts were dangerous. But he couldn't help it, he *had* to see the man, if only to catch a glimpse of his eyes. And perhaps pick his pocket he rationalized to himself hastily, trying to explain the strange nagging need away as the man reappeared amid the streams of arriving and leaving people and droids. He'd be quick, he thought to himself, lighting fast as always. He'd fulfill this unnerving draw, flitch a few credits and be off. The man would never know what--
The hand descended faster that his startled blue eyes could follow and locked around his skinny wrist trapping him effectively.
The cowled man whirled around, odd bright eyes capturing him just as much as the hand did, searching him with curious puzzlement instead of snapping in anger and raising alarm. Swallowing hard, straining against the grip, his thoughts spun frantically as he whispered.
"I'm not here, I'm not here, let go of me, I'm not here. . ."
The man's expression shifted to one of astonishment for an instant and then instead of letting him go, he altered his hold to grasp his hand and simply drew him closer.
****
What by the Force was the boy doing *here?*
It was him, Obi-Wan was sure of it. He hadn't been hiding for so long that he had forgotten who and what he was, what his purpose to keep living was. If the Force directed at him wasn't evidence enough, the thief's appearance was. He looked so much like his father, it was uncanny. He had left the children with Amid-- Padme. She'd insisted and he hadn't the heart to tear her son away from her, not then, not so soon after Anakin had-- died.
Yes, he'd expected the children to one day seek him out, it was inevitable, it was destined. Children, the boy especially, that strong in the Force were always drawn to those who could nurture the gift inside them. It had been that way for thousands of generations and wasn't about to stop now just because of unfavorable galactic politics. It hadn't stopped
Anakin and he'd been a slave.
But Obi-Wan pushed that thought away, it still ached inside when he thought about his dearest friend, his lost apprentice. No time for that now, no time to dwell on the past. The future had come upon him in his distraction and tried to pick his pocket.
*The boy should be on Alderaan with his sister not here so close to the Core systems, so close to Coruscant! What could have happened for him to end up here, like-like this?*
He'd felt Padme die, he remembered that day with clarity. Gathering moisture, just enough to live on from his vaporator, he had turned to head back inside the Spartan hovel he now called home for lack of a better word only to be struck by the sudden fleeting disturbance in the Force. He had reached out for it and tasted the shedding of sorrow, the leaving of life and all its tragic circumstance.
He'd felt the relief of death.
*There is no death,* he reminded himself firmly refusing to acknowledge grief, *there is the Force.*
The children were safe however, he had reassured himself though his numbed shock. He could reach out and feel them beneath the shield he and Master Yoda had woven around them after Padme had refused to give up her son. They bound so tightly together it was hard to see where one ended and the other began. He had felt no danger, no threat to them.
But here was the boy, several seasons older in the middle of one of the seedier ports at the edge of the galactic core. *Was his sister . . .?* No, the Jedi Knight quickly concluded as he stepped out of the main flow of now irate pedestrian traffic pulling the resisting boy with him. No, he was alone, the familiar bond with his sister torn, disconnected, as if someone had ripped the two painfully apart. His sister was safe on Alderaan while they--
"Clear the way!"
The Knight looked up quickly feeling his reluctant charge stiffen almost as immediately as he had *before* the projected voice had filled the port. Stormtroopers in their neat ordered rows came marching down the main faraway: travelers, droids, and locals scattering frantically out of their way knowing full well by now how Imperial troops handled the local populations. After the first squad had passed, the reason behind this show of Imperial might reared its dark head.
*Vader.* Kenobi thought grimly moving slightly to shield and hide the now terrified child behind him. *Would the day's surprises never end?*
It was the first time he'd seen the abomination that his apprentice had become since their duel years ago and if Kenobi was shocked by his appearance as the rest of the crowd was he didn't show it. The Dark Lord passed, cloak swirling behind him, intent on something else, some other poor unfortunate victim who Obi-Wan felt a brief pang of sympathy for before the whole crowd it seemed let out a collective sigh of relief. Looking down at his captured pickpocket he found the boy clinging to his hand with a death grip, no longer fighting the hold, wide blue eyes peering out from behind his cloak following the retreating Imperial party.
He placed his free hand lightly on the boy's shivering shoulder. "Let's go, Luke." Before the child could protest, the man simply steered him away from the port traffic and the departing armored spectacle.
****
He'd been right. The lodgings the cloaked man had secured had been temporary and small. His bags weren't even unpacked. But then Luke hadn't exactly ever planned on knowing this first hand. He'd heard of all sorts of odd sick people both human and alien, had the unfortunate, mind-choking, unthinkable experience of meeting some of them when caught by various forms of Authority and on several of the cargo ships he'd hoped onto. And he remembered too well his guardians on Alderaan, and he'd rather be back *Home* with *Them* than here. At least there he knew what to expect.
He heard the door close behind him and lock and unspeakable panic descended. He yanked himself away from the stranger and stumbled back trying to keep as much distance between himself and the man until he could get out of here. His breath caught in his throat as if someone was squeezing it tight as his mind went down dark places that he had adamantly refused to think about, refused to touch, that festered out of sight, well out of light of day.
The stranger stared at him in honest confusion for a long moment before sick, twisted clarity dawned in his clear eyes and he unconsciously took a step towards the near panicked boy.
He backed up even further, nearly tripping over the rumpled rug, breathing coming in strangled, tortured gasps, his thin body shaking violently.
// Not again, not again! //
Obi-Wan gaped in shock. He had heard that! The boy was broadcasting, loudly, the meaning disgustingly clear. Immediately realizing his mistake and the possible danger, Obi-Wan put even more distance between them trying to quell his anger and outrage over the abuse the child had obviously suffered at the hands of others. That fury would not help the terrified boy, he scolded himself harshly as he let it go. Reaching out through the Force-- part of him caring not a whit if Vader felt him, part of him shielding both of them as tightly as he could --he touched Luke's Force sense lightly, calming, securing, and somehow connecting and laying claim to the fluttering, frantic light that struggled like an injured bird in his grasp.
"Easy Luke," he murmured as he slowly held up his hands. "No one's going to hurt you."
He put a gentle inflection in his voice, intent on quelling the boy's mind numbing fear as he moved with deliberate cautiousness to sit down on the lone seat in the room. He wished he could do more, sooth Luke's hysteric thoughts and heal the unspeakable wounds that bled, that had once been his deep connection with his sister, that had once meant safety, stability, and love. But with Vader close he dared not. Sighing in barely contained frustration as the child's shaking eased into trembling and began breathing again he gave voice to his confusion.
"What are you *doing* here?"
Luke blinked at the question; it wasn't what he'd expected. "Who are you?" he asked before he could stop himself, in a voice made loud by fear refused to be acknowledged. He'd be brave, he told himself firmly and he'd live. He'd lived through it before, he could do it again. But inside he was terrified, wanting to just run and run and run . . . At least he wasn't backing away any longer he thought with a little pride, though he was practically up against the far wall anyway. "Why-? H-How do you know my name?"
*Ask the easy questions, hmm?* Obi-Wan mused as he searched for some reply to offer the boy. *But then* he sighed *none of the questions will be easy when it concerns this child. *
"It's a long story," he finally said sounding tired, almost weary unto death to Luke's surprise. The stranger looked up at him again, shaking away the gloom that had clouded him a moment before, eyes flashing now.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi and it's a pleasure to meet you Luke, even" he nodded as he stood, tone becoming wry as a faint smile touched his lips "under such unexpected circumstances."
The boy had stiffened as he got to his feet but otherwise had not moved, blue eyes watching him intensely waiting, no doubt, for what he perceived as inevitable and inescapable.
"You look hungry," he announced after a long silence when it became obvious Luke wasn't going to speak. He turned towards the tiny alcove behind a counter which held the kitchenette.
Luke took a step forward but then stopped himself firmly, more than a little confused because things weren't making any sense. *Food? Now? Maybe. . . just maybe . . .*
"Aren't you going to turn me over to Port Authority?"
The stranger, Obi-Wan, laughed, not looking up from his search through various drawers and cupboards. "No, Luke, I'm not."
"Why not?" Luke asked in flustered annoyance.
"Are you in such a hurry to be sent to a detention center?" he asked with a raised brow and a suppressed chuckle as he set out two plates.
The boy scowled darkly at him, crossing his arms tight. "No."
"Well then this works to both our advantages. Here." The cloaked knight slid the plate and a cup to the edge of the counter at Luke and then pulled away.
Luke made no move towards it. "What do I gotta do?"
Obi-Wan nearly choked. Coughing he turned to stare at the stiff-backed child, whose chin was raised in defiance, watching him. The images that question had sparked in Kenobi were too nauseating to imagine. He shook his head quickly, denying the thought, denying the anger before he spoke.
"Nothing," he said putting as much assurance into the word as he could, using the Force to make the boy *believe* when Luke's every instinct rightfully screamed mistrust and danger. "Nothing. You never have to do *anything* Luke. And I will never want you to," he finished unable to keep bitter fury from turning those last words into a promise of death for the nameless demons responsible. "Eat," he motioned with a gentle smile as he sat himself down on the now clear counter and resumed his own meal. "Not the best I'm afraid but . . ."
The boy snatched the plate off the counter and hopped back a few steps before warily perching on the edge of the chair after coming to the tentative conclusion that the stranger was not going to leap over the counter and grab him. He then proceeded to gulp down the contents of the cup in one breath and attack the food with the frantic urgency of one who'd gone too long without.
The boy was starving and thirsty and looked as if he hadn't been acquainted with washing water in weeks, a sonic 'fresher and drinking water in several days. His clothing was at least two sizes too big and was covered with grease and his hair was disheveled and what appeared to be dark blond from spending too much time in space ports and not enough time outside in the sunshine. He'd been away from Alderaan and on his own for more than a year at least, most likely longer the Jedi concluded.
"How did you get here?" Obi-Wan asked softly.
"Transport," the boy mumbled his terse reply around the lip of his cup.
"I take it you didn't pay." Kenobi replied with a dry smile noting that the boy still had the decency to duck his head and blush when someone mentioned his rather unlawful behavior. He was silent for a moment coming quickly to a decision that he ruefully admitted he'd come to the moment he'd found the boy and realized who he was. "We'd best get moving if we want to avoid any trouble," he announced as he got off the counter.
Luke looked up from his now barren plate a little stunned. "We?" he repeated in astonishment, fear beginning to creep back into his voice.
"We," he affirmed causally as he grabbed his two small bags off the bed. The less specific he was the less the little thief would focus on events and his well-grounded fears and simply let his feelings and instinct guide him. At this point it was easier than taking a lengthy amount of time to explain the realities of Luke's situation to him, not with Vader and half an Imperial garrison so close. His blatant use of the Force to calm the boy did not help matters at all. So the Jedi acted as if the whole bizarre unexpected situation was normal, kept his physical distance to assure the little thief he wasn't going to jump him, knowing that young Luke would not fight the Force-tide of events that had drawn him to one of the few remaining Jedi in the first place.
He took the plate from the boy's unresisting grasp and handed him the smaller of the two bags to carry. Luke looked down at the item in bewilderment, trying to figure out how he'd gone from a caught pickpocket to traveling companion so very quickly. "Aren't you worried 'bout your stuff?"
Obi-Wan looked up and found himself smiling at the boy's suspicious tone. "Not really" he laughed again. "Come."
****
The walkways of the port were crowded with rushing anxious people. Imperials were on the move and that made everyone nervous. Luke looked about the familiar port and then up at the man who walked beside him. He could leave, he thought to himself suddenly, throw the bag at the man and while he was off-balance slip away never to be seen again. He'd never have to risk the adult suddenly changing his mind about their "relationship" with one another. But even as he formulated this tentative plan something inside him twisted painfully in denial of action and though he swore he'd never ever *ever* admit it to the cloaked man, running from his side was akin to tearing off his arm and leaving it behind.
In disgust at his own lack of survival instincts he cursed himself mentally, in several languages before turning his attention back to Kenobi.
The man, Obi-Wan, seemed just as capable of blending into a crowd as he was. They doubled back several times which Luke grudgingly approved of before coming to the berths where the ships hung from their airlocks outside the port. The place was crawling with white armored troopers, their feet clacking in perfect time across the metal floor.
Luke had to hurry to keep up with the man's longer stride and was so intent in the effort he nearly didn't catch himself in time when Obi-Wan stopped suddenly just before the airlock corridors. Luke looked up at the man who seemed to be concentrating on something, brow furrowed with effort. Whatever it was, the little thief knew it was important and held very still.
The rhythmic footsteps of troopers approached and Luke shrank inside wondering why he feared discovery, and why the stranger did too. They couldn't be after him, not dozens of masked soldiers, he reminded himself fiercely pushing his terror aside. But they were coming closer. The Stormtroopers were going to find them, he realized with panic. They only had to round the corner to see them--
"Halt!" A muffled voice called just out of sight and the ominous approach of feet stopped.
"Double back!" the commander ordered and with precision Luke listened wide eyed in wonder as the armored men retreated back the way they came.
Luke let our a sigh of relief, looking up at the man who had caught him. The cloaked man looked just about as wrung out by their near miss as he was. He wasn't sure what exactly Obi-Wan had done to be wary around Imperial troops, but he bet it was something that could get him in a lot of trouble if he stayed with the adult. He was tempted to move, to bolt and duck into one of the many vents around the port and vanish into the darkness, but instead he simply stood still, waiting.
Obi-Wan turned and sank down to the child's level and made the mistake of touching the boy's shoulder as he opened his mouth to speak.
The little thief started so violently out of the Jedi's grasp that he dropped the bag and fell
back hard, eyes terrified as he scrambled to put distance between them, all thought of the troops forgotten in face of a more immediate perceived threat.
Obi-Wan blinked in shock at the sever and sudden reaction, cursing himself for being so thoughtless. He tucked his hands into his sleeves, safely out of sight as he spoke softly to the child before he bolted.
"Shh. It's all right, it's all right Luke," he murmured, the Force coloring his low soothing tone in an attempt to ease the palpitant tension. "I'm sorry. I won't touch you again. It's all right now. Come now." He motioned slightly for the boy to stand up, resisting the urge reach out physically to him, to calm and protect him from all the demons that seemed to reside in the darkness of his eyes. Hearing more troop movement, Obi-Wan quickly changed tacts.
"Luke I need your help. Can you get to any of the airlocks unseen?"
Slowly he nodded, eyes filled with confusion as he got to his feet. "Yes, but I don't
under-"
"Later I'll explain everything." Obi-Wan assured him. "Whatever you do, do not let any Imperial see you. Docking ring 42. Now go."
Luke took a hesitant step back and blinked in surprise before bolting for the access vent further down the corridor. Prying it off he looked back quickly at the stranger who was watching his every move. Biting his lip, unnerved by his searching glance he squeezed into the vent, satchel in hand, pulling the grated cover closed behind him.
He crawled through the darkness ducking his head and slithering along when it became narrower brushing away various creepy crawlers that skittered about between his hands and over the bag. It was dark and Luke tried to be as quiet as he could, breathing through his nose, trying not to choke or sneeze with all the dust in the air. He'd done this before, it was nothing new, but Luke had never had anyone *ask* him to do it. He wasn't even obligated to listen to Kenobi! But there was an urgency to the situation that left a bitter tang on his tongue and he found himself moving along as quickly as he could towards the airlocks.
Peering out of a floor grate he scoured the corridor with his eyes and ears before pushing the grate up with a loud squeak that made him wince and freeze for an instant. Coming quickly to his senses he climbed up, pulled the bag behind him, replaced the covering, and cautiously made his way to through the access corridor that led to the row of airlocks that stretched out in both directions.
*Left or right?* he wondered anxiously, rubbing his hands against his trousers. He peered at the sign on the wall in front of him, searching vainly for some clue. But the various symbols under the arrows made no sense. He didn't have time to search both ways! And even if he did, how would he know when he got there? *Docking ring 42 he said. How'm I suppose to know which one is that?!* he thought angrily hands twisting the fabric of the satchel painfully.
"Take a squad and search the airlocks." A harsh voice startled Luke out of his thoughts. There was a click of a voder mike from within the troopers helmet before the answer floated back his way.
"Yes sir."
Eyes now wide with panic, Luke turned completely around looking every way at once in frantic frustration. The footsteps grew inexorably closer.
*I'm dead! I'm dead! I'm dead! I'm dead . . .*
// Left. //
Luke flinched as if someone had struck him and looked around quickly trying to place the voice.
// Left Luke. Go left! //
It was Obi-Wan's voice, he realized with a start. But where was he?
"Check each airlock personally. Lord Vader doesn't want anything overlooked."
// Luke, hurry. // the voice pleaded.
That was it. That was all the deep thinking, bizarre situations, and worrying Luke could take at the moment. It was too much to even consider right now. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he bolted, sprinting down the left corridor blocking out the troops, the screaming distrustful part of him, and the disembodied voice in his mind. He blocked out everything and let his body lead him where it willed.
He pulled up short next to an airlock, undistinguished and identical to its neighboring airlocks except the symbols labeling it were slightly different. Pounding on the access panel he hid inside, crouching low by the sealed door of the spaceship as the door rumbled closed again, sealing him in darkness.
Hugging his knees to his chest, bag at his feet he buried his head in his arms peaking out from beneath his bangs watching and waiting.
Agonizing minutes passed but Luke flatly refused to acknowledge the persistent doubts that ran hysterical circles in his mind; that this was the wrong airlock, that the troopers were sure to find him and kill him with their search, that this stranger would never come, that he'd be trapped in here until he was sucked of into the blackness of space, that the stranger would come and do terrible, horrible, unspeakable things to him, sell him into slavery, keep him chained like an animal, torture him until death seemed pleasant--
There was a hydraulic hiss and the airlock hatch opened slowly. Luke got to his feet, picking up the travel bag, resigned to face whatever dire fate life had decided to serve to him this week, standing and without tears.
But there was no squad of white armored soldiers with guns ready to blast him into tiny pieces, only a cloaked man who ducked inside and pushed back his hood, looking almost relieved under all that calm to see Luke there.
The man, Obi-Wan, shot him a quick smile as he keyed his access to the ship and entered.
Luke stood very still for a long moment, mind trying to grasp just exactly what was going on but failing miserably.
"Are you coming?"
The boy's head snapped up to face Kenobi who stood just inside the ship, hands folded within his sleeves, the very picture of patience despite the fact that there was an Imperial party out looking for someone, most likely the both of them.
Strangely enough it wasn't a demand, or a sarcastic order, or even a request underlined with a threat of bodily harm, but an honest, gentle question that spoke of no danger in refusing. It seemed so out of place with their current situation he wanted to laugh, but it was there nevertheless waiting for an answer, waiting for Luke to make a choice that damned him no matter what he decided.
Imperial troops or a complete stranger?
Decisions, decisions . . .
Biting his lip, Luke took a step forward and joined Obi-Wan on the ship.
****
After setting up the pre-ignition sequence in the cockpit, Obi-Wan moved back into the tiny but clean cabin space where the boy stood looking completely lost and in desperate need of a bath, some water, food, and sleep.
He smiled reassuringly at him trying to ignore the ridged posture, the faint trembling, and wide eyes-- pupils so large with barely controlled panic they blotted out the familiar blue.
"Well, Luke you're a bit worse for wear but it's nothing some soap and water won't mend," Kenobi said, breaking the tense silence gently. "First door on your right," he gestured as he stowed the bags safely out of the way.
The boy started suddenly as if coming awake after a short nap. "You-You mean *now?*" he asked incredulously.
"You have a more suitable time in mind?" Obi-Wan retorted archly trying to hide his amusement. "Go on."
Blinking in surprise Luke backed up a few steps before darting towards the indicated room obeying on instinct.
Letting a sad smile touch his lips Obi-Wan shook his head and went back to the cockpit having received his clearance to depart, false ID passing Imperial inspection, Vader still unaware of his presence. Carefully and as causally as he could, he nudged his appropriated ship out of its berth and out of the gravity pull of the spaceport towards the shipping lanes. There was a faint, surprising tug at his awareness and he turned and saw the child hidden in the shadow of the doorway, watching him silently. He hadn't even heard the boy approach.
"Sit down Luke," he inclined his head to the copilot's seat. Hesitation was only momentary; fear of him seemed a distant second to the wonders of space travel and piloting.
*Why am I not surprised?* he thought wryly as he watched from the corner of his eye as Luke's blue eyes drank in everything. The little thief had managed to wash his hands and scrub most of the dirt of his face, but his hair was a disheveled mess and his clothing was inherently contrary to cleanliness, something Luke seemed completely oblivious to.
Well it wasn't exactly what he had in mind but it would do for now. A bath would have to wait; Luke certainly wasn't going to let him scrub what appeared to be months of dust and dirt from his skin any time soon, nor was Obi-Wan going to press such physical contact for a long while yet. Luke was wound so tight one misstep would probably ignite pure and ugly chaos. The little thief surreptitiously watched him as if any moment he expected Obi-Wan to beat him senseless or worse. The Knight kept carefully out of arms reach, his movements slow, obvious, and as unthreatening as he could make them, but he couldn't just leave it at that. Master Yoda would know the best way to proceed, and Obi-Wan decided that their only course of action was to head for Dagobah.
He felt Luke shift nervously in his seat beside him and waited patiently for the boy to speak as they passed the shipping lanes.
"Which one?" Luke asked quietly, risking displeasure by breaking the silence, tearing his eyes away from the view port to glance over at the stranger.
"Hmm?" the man replied, hands and attention still focused on the controls as the ship slid out of the system slowly to avoid any unwanted attention.
"Which one are we going to?" Luke pointed out at the star field in clarification.
"That one," Ben replied with a quick smile, pointing to a silvery blue dot that glowed far distant from the bright center of the galactic core.
Satisfied, Luke sat back, suddenly drained, yet at the same time exhilarated as if all of the day's insane events were natural: sitting here with a complete stranger who knew his name, who was running from soldiers and the Dark Man, whose pocket he'd tried to pick, whose voice he thought he had heard in his head . . . He supposed he should be frightened, distant, uncooperative because this man could be a murderer and worse, but for some reason this all felt right the way *Home* never did and to top it all off he was in space again.
Space could be Home.
Luke continued to watch the black field until they had successfully entered hyperspace, the stars becoming streaks of indigo blue as the ship streamed past them. Pulling his eyes away at last from the hypnotic dizzying spectacle that he had always felt when space traveling but never actually seen, he turned to regard his strange unexpected companion with quizzical silence, until finally: "Who are you? I mean," Luke hastily held up his hands trying to clarify his question, brow drawn in thought "Besides your name, who?"
"You mean what do I do?" Obi-Wan asked helpfully, sparing the child a quiet glance as he checked various indicators around him with the practical ease of a well accomplished pilot.
"No," Luke shook his head, frowning in thought, "I mean *who* are you."
Obi-Wan turned his full attention to his young passenger. *Did Luke understand the insight he shows with such a question, or is he like his father, instinctive in his grasp of the Force?* Quickly he pushed such thoughts aside to be examined closer at a later date.
"A Jedi Knight," he replied softly, the simple title heavy with memories. After a long moment he continued, letting a hint of humor touch his words. "I don't suppose you've ever heard of them."
An old memory rose in a woman's soft, sad voice, the cadence of storytelling as dusk fell someplace safe and warm, with someone Luke loved to watch over him, someone beside him; kin, a best friend, a partner in mischievous crime . . .
(. . . .And the brave Jedi Master and his apprentice drew their swords of light and fought the demon with all their strength while the Queen rushed to save her people and her brave new allies from the invaders. . . )
"Your father was a Jedi Knight, too," Obi-Wan continued startling the boy out of his thoughts with that portent announcement. The Knight watched him carefully now, gauging his reaction.
"Father?" Luke echoed blankly.
"Yes Luke, father," he assured his young charge, eyes suddenly alive with private humor.
"You had to have come from somewhere."
"You-you knew him?" he asked tentatively not wanting to give into even the faintest hope, a healthy bit of confusion in his tone.
"Very well." Obi-Wan nodded slowly "He was my student."
Luke stared at him for a long moment trying to figure out if this was the truth or merely some story spun by this stranger. He didn't trust him, not by a long shot. Life had conspired to rob Luke of his faith in all adults and most children. Their word was as good as worthless as far as he was concerned. But this man, this Jedi knew his name, used it with familiarity, had used it more in one day than Luke had heard it spoken or even thought of in years.
Kenobi was just telling some story like most spacer did. Albeit the little pickpocket had to admit that this was a bit more elaborate that he was used to, and Luke had heard some very inventive tales around the space ports. But this . . . this knowledge called to him like a siren's song he could not ignore. He had to know more if indeed this Jedi Knight knew his father as he claimed.
"Why did he leave?" Luke asked finally, a question that had burned within him for a long time. If the man was telling the truth he would answer. "Why didn't he want me o-or . . Why?"
There was surprisingly no anger in the boy's voice, no sense of betrayal, no sadness. There was only a weary acceptance of perceived abandonment and a hint of challenge. Obi-Wan puzzled this for a moment before tentatively attributing it to the way the child had been living (if you could call it that, and Kenobi certainly didn't) for the last couple of years. The Force only knew what had happened to pull him away from Alderaan and his sister after his mother's death. Luke had no memory of Anakin to speak of, perhaps not even the fanciful dreams of childhood. Those too had been stolen from him by circumstance. Kenobi turned in his chair and leaned forward on his knees facing the pickpocket and tried to explain the actions of a parent the boy neither knew nor particularly dwelled upon with anything except stoicism until he had brought the subject up.
"He didn't leave Luke," Obi-Wan said quietly, willing the boy to believe him, believe in something. "He didn't abandon you. He never would have, ever."
(. . . And the strong Jedi Knight and his dearest friend and Master were called away and he kissed his wife in secret farewell and left to fight and guard peace and justice throughout the galaxy . . .)
Luke sat back and looked away out at the stars. That was unexpected! The people back *Home* told him he'd been left purposefully by his parents because of the Evil inside him, that it was all his fault, that they hadn't wanted him, that he'd been the cursed child, the spawn of a demon, and they certainly didn't want him around their family. Kenobi's words were something completely new. "Then what happened?" Luke asked suddenly anxious to know, to hear proof of the stranger's words of his father's care.
*Oh Force! How do I put this?* Obi-Wan thought desperately. Master Yoda and what was left of the Council during the Purges had long ago forbidden the Skywalker children to know the truth about their parentage until fully trained. Even Padme agreed to that, but the knight could only see that it was a lie he was about to tell the boy, a boy who desperately needed someone he could trust again. Swallowing hard he opened himself, his mind to the power that shimmered around him and every living and nonliving entity in the universe and let it guide his words.
"There was . . . another Jedi, another student of mine named Darth Vader who fell to evil."
(. . . And a great black pall fell over the stars, crushing and dominating all. The Light that was the Jedi was blown out even as the Knights stood bravely in the path of death and destruction making their noble sacrifice to halt the tides of darkness . . .)
"The Dark Man," Luke breathed as the familiar voice inside him fell silent, eyes snapping back to meet the Knight's. "Back at port."
Obi-Wan blinked in surprise at the insight the boy showed and sat up slowly. "Yes Luke." He took a deep breath and let the damning words come. "He betrayed and murdered your father."
Luke Skywalker looked at the Jedi for a long moment, jaw clenched as he took the news, before looking away back at the star field that filled the front port as it slowly shivered as the ship entered hyperspace.
****
"Hey now," a concerned tenor broke through his thoughts and he stiffed reflexively. Luke opened his eyes and ducked his head a little so that he could see the Knight who was leaning over the consol to peer beneath it. "What are you doing under there?"
Luke blinked in bewilderment. "I'm . . . sitting."
Obi-Wan favored him with a faint smile as he dropped to his knees, pushing the chair aside so he could better see the boy who sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped tight around himself in a concentrated effort to vanish into the darkness.
"I can see that Luke," he said, a touch of humor coloring his words before confusion took over "Why are you sitting *under* the consol?" he clarified patiently.
Luke didn't know how to answer that question. The Jedi wanted him to stay in the cabin or the cockpit and out of the cargo hold while they flew to this Master Yoda person's planet. He had reluctantly followed the Knight back into the habitat area of the tiny ship after the Jedi had sought him out amid the empty cargo containers, and found a place to sit.
"Why don't you come out?" Obi-Wan coaxed gently, moving aside a little to give the boy room to scuttle out without having to brush against him. "There is plenty of room in the cabin. You don't have to hide under furniture or in the hold."
Hesitation twisted the boy's brow, hands clenching and unclenching unconsciously. "Don't want to be a bother," he said at last in a low voice.
With a slight shake of the head Obi-Wan sighed. "You aren't Luke," he assured the little thief. "Come on out now, alright? I need some help up in the cockpit anyway."
Curiosity, surprise, and disbelief warred in the boy's eyes. "You do?"
With a practiced shrug of feigned nonchalance, Obi-Wan shifted back on his feet and stood watching the child from the corner of his eye. "Someone has to watch the ship while I clean up and get us something to eat."
Tentatively Luke eased out from his hiding place, scrambling hurriedly to his feet as he faced the Knight. "You're gonna have to show me sir," he admitted reluctantly, bracing himself against the edge of the consol as if he expected to be beaten for his admission of ignorance.
"It would be my pleasure," Obi-Wan said with a smile, inwardly winching at the body language the boy used. "And you may call me Ben, Luke." he added as he led the way back to the cockpit.
After a moment of disbelief passed, Luke hurried after him.
****
Wet.
The planet was warm and wet. Each breath was a marked difference from the over-
filtered, dusty, smoky air of space ports, cantinas, and cargo holds of transports.
"Be careful Luke, stay close," Kenobi warned as stepped back a ways to give the boy room to jump down from the hatch, since physically helping him was out of the question.
Luke was surprised by their destination, even more so by the way the Jedi was willing to take him along and not leave him locked up on the ship. The planet seemed like one gigantic, muddy, insect-filled, deadly dangerous swamp.
He couldn't wait to go exploring.
But Obi-Wan, Ben as he also invited Luke to call him during the trip instead of sir, seemed to be serious in his order that he not wander. So with a sigh he suppressed the longing to climb a particularly gnarled tree as the man led him through the muck, out of generous consideration to the knight. He certainly hoped Obi-Wan realized that he was making a very large, very unusual concession by even *being* here let alone listening to the man with his strange ideas about sleeping and eating and washing.
They avoided the one path in the area and scrambled over roots and around sinkholes with ease. Obi-Wan certainly knew his way around this place. He must come to visit this Master Yoda person often Luke thought. Luke still wasn't sure about Obi-Wan though, or this Master Yoda person. There had to be a nasty, unavoidable catch.
In his experience there was always a catch.
Luke's dark musings were cut short when Obi-Wan stopped their progress. He looked around and realized that the mist had parted and they stood before a tiny domed hovel crawling with moss and slimy plants. "Wait here," Obi-Wan instructed quietly as he gathered up his robes and ducked into the tiny doorway.
"Master Yoda."
A small wizened green figure turned from his bubbling stew that filled the air with a smell that reminded the Knight of when he was a boy, just a hotheaded trainee when the ancient Jedi Master had taken him aside to lecture and train him in private. The venerable teacher looked up, eyes widening as he saw his former pupil before him. He had not felt him arrive; Obi-Wan had shielded their approach even from the only other remaining Jedi out of caution. Quickly for one of such age, Yoda hopped out into his living space to stand before the kneeling Jedi, touching his head gently with one hand.
"Obi-Wan," he said fondly in greeting, that one name carrying a hundred shades of meaning and emotion. Both their exile's had weighed heavily on them; the galaxy no longer resonated with thousands of their brothers and sisters within the Force. There were only two; two Jedi and two Sith. Yoda's attention turned suddenly and sharply from Kenobi to focus outside. Ears rose in surprise, recognition was instant. "Ohh. The boy?"
Bowing his head Obi-Wan hurried to explain the turn of events. "I found him near Coruscant Master, at the Ithorian Port. He tried to pick my pocket. When I caught him, he tried make me forget I ever saw him, and . . ." The Jedi trailed off, jaw clenching as he remembered his failure.
"Vader was there," Yoda finished for him, lips pursed in thought. "His sister?"
"Safe on Alderaan as far as I know Master."
The ancient teacher turned towards the door. "How is he?"
Obi-Wan let out an exhausted, frustrated sigh as he ran one distracted hand through his hair. "Terrified'" he admitted, heart sinking as his mind contemplated what that meant for the child, for the galaxy. "Completely bewildered. Barely controlled panic. He spend a good portion of the trip here under furniture and in supply closets no matter what I said to reassure him. When I caught him and brought him with me he thought I was going to . . . harm him."
Yoda seemed to wilt at the idea, eyes closing, hanging his head. It was unbearable and sickening to consider the scars mental and physical the child carried, what it meant for his training, for the future.
"And yet . . ." Obi-Wan offered carefully. "He did not run when he could have Master. He stayed near, didn't leave."
"Not good this is." Yoda began to pace, stick tapping emphasizing his words. "Safe the children had to be. Safe and loved. The same situation as their father we did not want."
"Master I need to find out what happened. Perhaps with his sister things could be still remedied. The answers are on Alderaan."
"Answers also with the boy'" he reminded the Knight sternly not willing to dismiss the boy in favor of his sister without seeing for himself. "Hmm." Yoda considered this for a moment, turning his attention back to the child outside, the Force rippling in his grasp and Obi-Wan knew that the future lay out before him in all its myriad possibilities. "The boy will stay here," he said at last. "Go to Organa you shall, but leave the girl there. Come back for him you will."
"Yes Master." Bowing again Obi-Wan ducked outside again to find the boy crouched down, watching in rapt interest the progress of a rytha snake over moss-slicked stones.
"Luke?" he called softly gaining his attention instantly. The child stood brushing his hands against his tunic as he did, taking a few steps closer to the Jedi and his rather diminutive companion. "Luke this is the Jedi Master Yoda. Master, Luke Skywalker."
Luke nodded his head respectfully at the old creature without thinking. There was something about the green skinned Jedi that reminded him of Obi-Wan, of that voice he thought he heard in his head during his frantic search for the airlock.
The Jedi, Yoda, studied him, green eyes seeming to take in everything at once. He murmured softly to himself before speaking, the Force stirring with his words. "Be at peace young one. Nothing do we require from you. Safe here you are."
The boy regarded both Jedi for a long moment, uncertainty radiating from him strongly before he drew back into himself, becoming unreadable. Yoda and Obi-Wan shared a glance and then muttering softly to himself the Master went back into his home.
"Luke?"
Skywalker's eyes snapped to meet his and Obi-Wan continued now that he had his attention. "Luke I want you to stay here with Master Yoda while I take care of some business."
"You're leaving?!"
Kenobi inwardly winced at the tone, the fear. The boy had tensed so suddenly he looked about ready to snap and he was edging away out of sheer instinct. "Only for a little while, a week at most," he hurriedly explained as gently as he could. "I'm coming back Luke. I won't forget, I won't." He knelt in the mud wishing he could reach out and calm the boy instead of having to keep well out of arm's reach. "Master Yoda will take care of you." Obi-Wan nearly smiled at the scowl of disgust that Luke shot at him for that statement. He raised his hands in apology. "I know you can take care of yourself but humor me and stay here with him and wait till I return."
"No." Luke said flatly. This was taking consideration too far. He couldn't just leave him, he couldn't! The mere thought of it filled his heart with unexplained dread. "No. No. No.
You *can't!* I-I don't under--" He broke off his words sharply, his voice quivering, betraying him.
Luke's eyes were wide with panic; he hadn't really be thinking about where his decisions were leading him since he'd tried to pick his pocket back on the Ithorian port. He'd been letting instinct and feelings guide him, naturally reassured by the presence of a Jedi as was expected with an untrained Force user. Obi-Wan had provided balance and much needed security; it was natural, it was way the Jedi had worked for millennia, Master and Padawan drawn to each other through the Force despite extenuation circumstance like Empires and Stormtroopers, Toydarians and slavery, AgriCorps and rebellion. While Obi-Wan was planning on coming back all the boy could see was that he was being abandoned again. Obi-Wan cursed the turn of events internally; the crafty little thief was vulnerable, uncertain and now very much afraid no matter how unconcerned, unneeding, and brave he pretended to be.
Putting as much certainty and calm as he could in his voice he sought to reassure him.
"You will understand in time. I'll be back soon." He stood, unmindful of the mud on his robe and his clothes. "Don't run Master Yoda ragged while I'm gone," he told Luke with a smile "He's over 800 years old."
Luke stood there, surprise on his face as the Knight ducked back inside the hovel obviously to say his good-byes. They didn't take long because Obi-Wan came out again a few moments later along with the 800 year old Master and then departed back through the swamp towards the ship. Luke watched him go in silence, wondering why he felt like someone had just taken to strangling him, why he should care in the first place, why he listened to him and stayed behind when he could easily sneak back onboard.
"Back he will come young one."
"Like I care'" Luke muttered under his breath. He wouldn't care, he *wouldn't.* Caring was for idiots, idiots who got in bad situations fast and lived painfully. Caring only caused you trouble, it was nearly as stupid as trusting someone. The dumb feeling would go away he assured himself staunchly, he'd best deal with the situation at hand, survive the *now.*
Turning to face the Jedi Master, Luke wracked his brain trying to think of what to say to him. This wasn't a spaceport and he didn't seem to be alone anymore (though not by *his* choice) so he had to say something. An old memory prompted him, long forgotten, long unneeded but somehow appropriate.
Bowing he said, "I thank you for your hos-hospitality Master Yoda."
Murmuring in what seemed like approval if the upraised ears meant anything he nodded in return "Welcome you always are," he said and for some strange reason he sounded like he actually meant it, not just some pointless meaningless adult platitude. Then motioning the boy to follow he lead the way back into his home. Luke had to duck only a little to enter and found himself in a warm, glowing room. There were roots and animals, snakes and other lizards crawling all over what little furniture there was. All the colors seemed faded and muted, green and brown. The air was filled with water and the very odd scent of something that Luke's stomach knew without a doubt was food. But despite its shabby interior and mud ball location it was much better than he was used to and he found himself relaxing despite himself. The room was warm and he was very tired. He hadn't slept well on the ship, in truth he hadn't slept at all preferring to keep a nightly vigil on his traveling companion. Now the tiny house pulled at his resolve to keep watch insistently.
"Approve you do?" the little gnome of a Jedi asked cocking his head to regard the boy thoughtfully.
"It's more my size." Luke admitted since it seemed as if the Master required an answer.
Yoda gave a little laugh and scuttled his way over to the kitchen. "Size matters not."
Luke moved cautiously toward the burning glow of the fire, mesmerized by its light and warmth all the while keeping careful watch out of the corner of his eye on the Jedi. The flames danced cheerily, undaunted by the planet's inherent dampness. "Careful young Skywalker," Yoda warned when Luke reached out to the brightness. He pulled back his hand and contented himself with sinking down before the fire keeping his back to the wall the door a direct line on his right, the Jedi before him. Master Yoda came and handed him a bowl of something green and brown much like the rest of the planet but experience had taught Luke not to be picky; food was food and he ate hurriedly.
His bowl scrapped clean Luke stared at the fire drawing his knees up to his chest. "Obi-Wan said he'd come back." The words escaped of their own volition but he was too tired to care what anyone thought.
"He will," the Jedi replied quietly.
"He said he would, he said he wouldn't forget." *But he will* Luke knew with a certainty, shivering despite the fire, *Everyone always forgets, because of me, because of me.*
"Hmmm."
Luke turned his head away from the flames having the strangest feeling that this ancient being had heard him, heard his thoughts. "Rest now. A long day it has been," Yoda urged softly. "Night comes."
****