Prologue

The following is an excerpt from the journal of Obi-Wan Kenobi, former Jedi Master, while living in the outskirts of Tatooine:

It's been a week since I've first learned the truth about Vader; that the man who was once Anakin Skywalker survived. Padmé's words accompany a vision of the last time I saw him - burned and dying on Mustafar – "There is still good in him…" Now more machine than man, Anakin has become the victim of his own ambitions. I cannot help but blame myself. I, along with all the Jedi, told him from day one that he was the Chosen One; that it was on his shoulders to bring balance to the Force. I had assumed that if this prophecy were true, then despite his failings to follow my council on many occasions, he would still manage to become a very great Jedi. I had become so focused on the Jedi code that I failed to listen to the will of the Force. If I had only followed the instructions Qui-Gon Jinn had tried so hard to convey, than Anakin would have become the Jedi we all assumed he was destined to be. Now that hope lies with the children he conceived.

I had hoped that when the time was right I would begin young Luke's training. I now worry that Owen Lars will never let that happen. Yesterday he and Beru paid me a visit. He came to express his concerns about my presence in the community.

"I want to know why you are here. I know you came to Tatooine to bring Luke to us, but why have you stayed?"

"That, my friend is a long story," I replied.

"Then I guess we'd better get comfortable. You don't mind do you?" He asked.

"Not at all; you're the first company I've had," I paused, smiling. "At least the first welcome company."

"The Tusken raiders," Owen said nodding. "We've heard they paid you a visit. I'm glad you weren't hurt."

"I hate them," Beru said sadly. She was holding the infant Luke in her arms. He watched us with attentive blue eyes.

"Yes, I can understand why," I said sympathetically. "You may have a seat here," I said gesturing to the dining area. "It's not much but I wasn't expecting many guests."

"This works fine," Beru said smiling.

"Good. Before I begin can I offer you something to drink? I haven't much. Maybe some water or milk for young Luke? Maybe some juice I purchased from Huff Darklighter, a little sweet but refreshing."

"No thanks, I'm good," Owen said. Beru shook her head.

"Okay, than I suppose I should begin by telling you what happened to Anakin. As you know the Republic no longer stands. An Empire has risen to take its place and Palpatine, the former Supreme Chancellor, has declared himself Emperor. He betrayed the Republic's trust by orchestrating the Clone Wars in an effort, not only to seize more power but to also eliminate his enemies. Namely, the Jedi Order."

"Is that how Anakin died, during the wars?" Owen asked.

"Well actually Anakin was responsible for ending the Clone Wars by killing the Separatists Leader, Count Dooku."

"Dooku was once a Jedi too, correct?" Owen asked. I could sense Owen's disapproval. Like so many others in the galaxy, I could see that the prejudice against the Jedi was present here on Tatooine.

"He was, once. He left the order and turned to the Dark Side of the Force. He became a Sith."

"A Sith?" Beru asked, confused.

"The Sith are consumed with hate and a great lust for power. They use the Force to gain this power, killing and oppressing those who stand in their way. They are the very opposite of the Jedi, who use the Force for knowledge and peace. Like Dooku, Emperor Palpatine is also a Sith. The Emperor seduced Dooku; as well as Anakin."

"Anakin?" Owen looked as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him.

"I'm afraid so. Palpatine had poisoned Anakin's ears since he first began his training as a small boy."

"And the Jedi Order did nothing to stop this?"

"We had no idea the kinds of lies he was feeding Anakin, nor did we know Palpatine's true intentions. In the beginning, we only thought he was an ambitions politician who played all sides in an effort to gain support and popularity. It wasn't until the Clone Wars that we began to suspect he was after more than to be popular. He wanted power."

"I don't understand; why Anakin?" Owen asked.

"Anakin was a very powerful Jedi. The Emperor knew this. He played upon Anakin's weaknesses. He knew that Anakin was arrogant, that he felt the Jedi were holding him back. Palpatine constantly praised Anakin, turning his heart against the Jedi Order and convincing him that the Jedi were afraid of him becoming too powerful. In the end, when Palpatine was exposed as a Sith, Anakin had to choose between the Jedi, whom he felt never trusted him, and the only man who ever told him what he wanted to hear."

"What happened to the Jedi?" Beru asked. She gently rocked Luke in her arms.

"At the end of the war the Emperor had his clone army turn on the Jedi who led them. With the Jedi spread thin we were overwhelmed. I barely managed to escape when my own troops attacked. Anakin led an army into the Jedi temple. They slaughtered the Jedi that remained behind, leaving no survivors. Master and youngling were murdered defending themselves."

Beru's eyes watered. Owen looked away in the distance. After a few moments he finally spoke.

"You killed Anakin, didn't you?"

"I confronted him in an effort to turn him back, to convince him to leave the madness of the Sith behind him. He refused and he left me no choice but to fight." I decided not to tell them more than that.

"And Luke's mother, was it Padmé?" Beru asked.

"Yes. She died of a broken heart. Anakin tried to convince her to come with him but she wouldn't hear of it. In the end I think she regretted that decision. She never gave up hope that Anakin still had good in him."

"You want to train Luke, don't you? You want to make him a Jedi." Owen asked.

"Yes. He is the last hope that the galaxy has for peace."

"No, I won't let that happen," he said sternly. "If that's why you're here than you've made a mistake."

"You must understand how important it is that he be trained. I represent the last of the Jedi order. Luke must be trained to carry on their traditions."

"No, you need to understand. I knew Shmi. She was a good woman. She would have never allowed Anakin to leave if she knew what would happen! You remember that the next time you want to preach about the importance of Jedi traditions!" Luke began to cry. Owen lowered his tone as Beru attempted to calm the infant. "Luke is staying here."

"Luke has the potential to become the Jedi his father never became. He has the opportunity to begin his training at a much younger age where he will be able to control his emotions, his attachments."

"And then what; you'll take him to kill the Emperor? You'll both single handedly overthrow an Empire?" Owen asked mockingly.

"Yes, if that is the will of the Force."

"I will not let you take Luke on some damn fool's idealistic crusade! Why should we even care about this Empire? Tatooine wasn't a part of the Republic nor is it a part of the Empire. Besides, the Empire is far away from here."

"Not as far as you think. The Empire cares not what allegiance your planet holds. They are not democratic. They will force all systems to join them. Tatooine will not remain untouched."

"I doubt a few moister farmers will be seen as a threat. In fact Tatooine might be better off under the rule of the Empire than that of the Hutts," Owen said. Beru gave him a worried look.

"You're avoiding the point here. Even if Tatooine were to remain untouched there are many other systems that will not be so fortunate," I knew that Owen wouldn't listen; he'd made up his mind.

"That may be but I'm sorry, I don't see how one man can make that much of a difference. He is needed here more than anywhere. I think it'd be best if you didn't come around my family anymore." He began getting up. He looked at Beru. "We need to go."

"I'm sorry," Beru said, smiling faintly. "Thank you."

I nodded as I watched them leave. My heart sank with the burden that I had failed Luke now, just as I had failed Anakin. I wondered if we'd made the right decision in giving him to his uncle. Only time will tell.


Five Years Later...

"Uncle Owen?"

Owen grunted a non-verbal response as he struggled with the stubborn moister vaporator. His young nephew watched with alert blue eyes, quietly taking in his every move. Luke had surprised him on more than one occasion with his unique understandings of anything mechanical. He was more like his father than Owen felt comfortable with.

Gritting his teeth, he applied all his strength as he wrestled with the wrench in his grip. Sweat, trickling down his contorted face, fell softly onto the sandy floor below. The wrench turned slightly before locking into place.

"Blast!" He cursed before remembering his nephew's presence. Embarrassed by his outburst, he looked at the boy. "Luke, hand me the lubricant."

The small boy eagerly retrieved the oil for his uncle, handing it to him with a smile. Owen, hell bent on loosening the bolt, snatched the canister from his nephew without as much as a glance.

"Uncle Owen?" The boy called again, begging his uncle's attention.

"Hmm?" He responded without turning his head, applying generous amounts of oil to the obstinate bolt.

"What happened to my father?" Luke asked.

Owen paused, looking at the boy's expectant eyes. He bitterly wondered if Anakin looked like that when he was a boy. Frowning he turned back to his work.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well," Luke began. "Biggs and Tank were arguing about whose father was the strongest and it just got me to wondering about mine. You and Aunt Beru have never told me anything about him."

"Not now Luke; I have work to do," Owen replied, skirting the uncomfortable subject. He placed the oil on the workbench nearby and began wrestling with the wrench again.

Luke frowned as he watched his uncle, disappointed but determined. "Was he a tall man? I bet he was stronger than both Biggs' and Tank's dads put together."

Owen sighed, putting down the wrench and turning to his nephew. "Your father was just an ordinary man; nothing more and nothing less. He navigated spice freighters when he crashed from an engine malfunction. He left Tatooine when he was very young and rarely returned. I only met him once."

"Did you know my mother?" Luke quizzed.

A sad look briefly overcame his features as he remembered the beautiful young woman who accompanied his stepbrother. "Yes. He brought her home once, around the time your grandmother passed away."

"What did she look like?"

"She had long brown hair and beautiful brown eyes. Besides that I don't really remember much. I don't even know her name."

Luke frowned. "I wish I could have seen them," he whispered.

Owen looked at his nephew, unsure of how to respond. "Go get washed up, it's getting close to dinner time. I'm sure your aunt will need help setting the table."

He watched as his nephew silently left, a lump forming in the back of his throat. Pushing the emotions away, he went back to work, convinced that he'd done the right thing. The less the boy knew about his parents the better. Luke was the only connection he had to Shmi and he wouldn't let her memory be tarnished by the boy leaving with that fool Kenobi.


The young girl watched the lake with dark brown eyes, taken back by the beauty of the sunset reflected in its calm waters. Snow capped peaks obscured the view but she didn't mind. She loved the mountains as much as the sunset and felt a sting of pride that she was the only soul around to take in the beauty of it all. It was as if the sunset were hers and hers alone.

She startled at the sound of soft approaching footsteps. Turning, her troubled frown transformed into a smile as she met the eyes of the approaching man.

"Father!" She ran to him and grabbed his hand, pulling him to where she had sat a moment earlier. "Isn't it beautiful?"

He smiled as he watched her excited gaze lock on the setting sun. She looked up at him and frowned.

"You're going to miss it! Look!" She pointed a delicate finger in the direction of the lake.

Looking up he beheld the beauty that had embraced his view since he was a young boy, no older than his daughter. He smiled as he remembered the warm feelings those childhood experiences accompanied; feelings his daughter was surly feeling now.

"It is beautiful Leia," he softly agreed.

"I wish mother could be here to see it," she whispered, her voice quivering for the first time.

He looked down to see tears brimming on her brown eyes, which stubbornly held the view of the sunset despite the sudden pain she felt. He too could feel the warm presence as his eyes began to glisten.

"She is here Leia. She is always with you, wherever you go," he replied.

She looked up at him with a confused gaze. "Mother is sleeping in her bed daddy. She's sick, remember?"

He silently nodded. "You're right Leia, she is."

He thought of his love, Brea, the only mother Leia had known, sick and dying in her deathbed. He also thought of the sad young senator from Naboo that had given her life so that Leia, her daughter, may live; the woman of whom he had meant when he'd spoken a moment ago. It was important that Leia never learn the truth; or at least not yet, not until she was old enough to know the consequences of learning such a truth. For if she were to know the truth about her mother than it only stood to reason that she learned the truth about her father as well. And then there was Luke. She would have to know of him too, and surly she would want to seek him out. That day would come too soon for his taste, he knew. The Empire was growing in power and the galaxy was buckling under the weight of its oppressive rule. The day would come when Kenobi and his apprentice would be needed. He only prayed that that day would not come too soon.

"Are you okay father?"

He looked down at his daughter who had grabbed his hand with a worried look on her face. He realized the sun had now set and the stars were painting the sky with their soft, twinkling light.

"Yes Leia, I'm okay. Let's go in. It's getting late and you need your sleep."