Chapter 5

Here it is. The website hasn't been working for me, this is the first day I've been able to post things. Has that happened to anyone else? I haven't been able to reply to reviews, I'll try to catch up on that. Thanks to everyone who read the last chapter, I'll try to fix it, and hope you like this one!

Vader left the children in the main cabin and told them to clean up before heading into the cockpit to set a course and contact Sidious.

His Master's face flickered onto the screen in static-y waves. Vader kneeled on the hard ground.

"Rise, Lord Vader." His Master's voice was harsh and commanding, not the sort to encourage friendship.

"Yes, my Master." Vader stood and spoke with his head bent respectfully. "I have quelled the rebellion."

"Shall I send in troops to aid you?"

"That won't be necessary. I've left a battalion here to look after things. I expect to retun within a day, if all goes well." Vader had always been a good liar.

"Good. I will be waiting. We have things to discuss."

Vader nodded and signed off. He sensed that one of the children was near, and he wasn't ready for Sidious to know what he'd done.

He sat down in the pilot's seat, flicking his glance over the monitor to ensure that everything was working, before swiveling to face the door.

It was the boy.

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The cabin the man left them in wasn't the most pleasant of places. It was dark, without windows, and the smell was an awkward mix of mildew and cleaning fluid, as though someone had given a halfhearted attempt at making the room livable and abandoned the project halfway. But there was a shower, and a bed, and that was what was most important to Leia at that moment.

After they had both taken turns washing, Leia had begun sifting through cabinets and drawers to find clean clothes for them. She'd found two sets of black robes, clean but tent-like, and immediately pulled off her dress and slipped one set on.

She let out a final, exhausted shudder at the pile of wet fabric on the floor, before hurriedly turning away. She didn't want to look at it anymore.

Luke, meanwhile, had pulled on the other set of robes. In any other situation, Leia would have had to laugh at the ridiculous sight. Luke was nearly buried under the miles of cloth, his arms ending well below the bottom of the sleeves and an additional foot of material draped around his feet.

Luke scowled at her. "Don't. You look stupid, too."

Leia turned red and bit her lip, huffing angrily. "You're lucky I even found anything for us to wear."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He flopped onto the bed, closing his eyes.

Leia sat at the foot of the bed, clutching her knees to her chest. "Do you think Obi-Wan's okay?" she asked, a wobble barely detectable in her voice if you were looking for it.

Luke sat up. "I don't know. What actually happened to him?"

Leia looked at her hands. "That man kicked him a lot. That's all I saw. But there was a lot of blood."

"Well, he's probably okay if it was just kicking," Luke said, trying to sound reasonable.

"No, you didn't see it. It looked really bad." Her eyes darted to her brother as she spoke, looking for any sign of what he thought.

The twins were quiet, each occupied with their own thoughts. Leia tried not to think of the man who'd hurt Obi-Wan. She hated him, she hated him, hated him hated him! She scared herself with the terrible, awful well of loathing she felt towards him, catching in her throat and spilling out into shaking limbs and a dry mouth. She'd never wanted anyone to die before.

Eventually it overwhelmed her and she stood, kicked the bed, yelped with pain.

Luke watched her casually. "Where do you think Darth Vader is?" He asked once she'd calmed down.

Leia glared at him furiously, massaging her sore foot. "Who?"

"You know. The Black Man. He says his name is Darth Vader. And I want to go find him. I'm bored."

"You what? Are you stupid? We can't go anywhere near him. He probably wants to kill us!"

"No…I don't think he does, actually. I talked to him. I don't think he hates us. Obi-Wan must have done something to him. He just hates Obi-Wan. Not us."

Leia shook her head in disbelief. "How can you say something like that? Obi-Wan would never do anything bad to anyone."

"What makes you so sure of that?" Luke asked her evenly.

"Because…because Obi-Wan is good. And I know that man is bad."

Luke looked as if he wanted to say something, but he just stood up and walked to the door. "I'm going to find him."

"Don't."

He turned and exited before she could do anything.

Leia thought about following him. She opened the door and watched his retreating back as he ambled away, appearing supremely calm. She couldn't be so calm. She remembered her nightmares and she remembered Obi-Wan lying still on the ground.

She curled up in a ball on the ground, her back against the door. She was perfectly still, hoping to hear her brother. She told herself that if he didn't come back soon, she would look for him. But she couldn't make herself.

She felt like a coward.

It wasn't something she'd ever felt before. At home, she was always the first to try something new, to speak up when something needed to be done. She was the first one Obi-Wan had taught how to drive, and she thought she was good—she loved going dangerously fast, and she wouldn't turn away from any obstacle until the last possible moment. Obi-Wan was scared when she drove, and he said she drove like her father, the Knight.

It made her proud.

And when she and Luke were playing outside, and they saw Jawas or Sand People from a distance, she was always more curious than frightened. Sometimes she was brave to the point of stupidity, like that time the Jawas had clubbed her and Obi-Wan had rescued her.

But the Black Man was different. She was afraid of him for more than the nightmares and Obi-Wan. This fear was part of her, and she knew, somehow, that if she'd never had the nightmares, she would still be just as afraid. He was somehow more enormous and more close to home than anything she'd ever seen.

She thought she remembered him from long ago, but she didn't know from where.

She didn't want to know from where.

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Immediately after Obi-Wan Kenobi awoke, he wished he hadn't.

His face and hands were sticky with dried blood, his arm was throbbing, and his head felt as though someone had ripped it open at the seams.

"Nrgh…"

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position using his good arm. He spat out a mouthful of sand as he stumbled to his feet, unable to avoid moaning in pain.

What had he gotten himself into, now?

"Leia…Leia…? Luke?" He managed to call out for his charges, wincing at the raw ache in his throat.

No answer.

He closed his eyes and made his tottering way in what he hoped was the vague direction of the house. His arms were splayed in front of him, and he was rewarded when his fingertips brushed the hard clay that formed the walls. His hands skimmed the surface until he found the gap that indicated he was almost inside. The handle was hot and painful to touch as he opened the door and slid inside.

The dim light inside gave him enough confidence to open his eyes.

"Force…" he whispered.

"Leia? Luke! Leia!" The Force told him he was alone, and wishing otherwise didn't change the fact that he didn't receive an answer.

Drops of blood gave him a clear trail to follow, down the hall. He stopped several times to catch his breath, and every time he did his fear heightened.

As he turned the corner, leaning against the wall, he saw the closet door was open. Old robes and things he no longer needed but refused to throw away had fallen out. His bedroom door was open, as well.

Blood stains at the back of the closet.

He pivoted to see into his room and saw the window smashed in, glass shards strewn across his bed and floor like sand.

His hands trembled and his mouth was dry as he sunk to the floor.

He'd failed again.

Wait…no, he wasn't going to do this. Not this time.

His hands shook as he pulled his commlink out of his pocket. He set the frequency to match Leia's and connected.

She answered within seconds. Her face was pale, with dark circles under her eyes, and her hair looked oily and tangled.

"Leia," he sighed with relief, and felt as if an enormous weight had been lifted off of his chest. "Leia, are you alright?"

Her face lit up with a tremendous smile, and her eyes shone with happiness. "Obi-Wan! I thought you were dead! Are you okay? I was so scared!"

"I'll live. How about you? Are you and Luke safe?"

"I don't know. The Black Man who beat you up got us and Luke's looking for him. I was scared," she added quietly, ashamed of herself.

Obi-Wan sat up, hissing in pain. "What? You don't mean Darth Vader, do you?"

"Um, I think so. Yeah. That's what Luke said. Obi-Wan, I'm scared."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath before allowing himself to speak again. "Alright, then. Stay calm. Don't do anything to upset him. Leia, now, this is very important: Do you think you can find out where you are for me? You'll need to talk to Vader."

"I don't think I can do that…" Leia said warily.

"Leia, I know you can do it. You're a very brave young lady, and I need you to do this for me so I can find you."

Leia nodded.

"Now, I need to go now, so I can see what I can do to help. Okay?" Obi-Wan kept his voice calm so that Leia wouldn't see how afraid he was.

"Bye."

"Goodbye, Leia."

He hung up reluctantly and peered inside the closet. He crawled towards the back, opening boxes until he found the right one.

It was a collection of things from his old Jedi days. He'd hidden it from the children, of fear that they'd find it and hurt themselves, but he'd also hidden it from himself—his past was not something he liked reflecting on.

There wasn't much. Jedi never had many possessions. There was a photo album, which he glanced at momentarily. Most of the pictures were of him and Anakin. He paused to look at one, taken weeks before…well. He and Anakin were both grinning into the camera—it was obviously taken for the press. Anakin's hand was on his shoulder.

He closed it and flung it behind him.

He continued looking until he found what he'd been looking for all along—his lightsaber. It was a little dusty, and the handle was more worn than he remembered, but it was his.

And there was Anakin's.

Built to look like his, but different. The handle had melted slightly, when…And before that, too, it had been different.

He placed it in his other pocket.

For luck.