Dear Qui-Gon,
I have grave news. The day seemed to start poorly; I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, anticipation and dread all rolled into one. The sunrise was deep red, and although I was never one of those Jedi who looked for meaning in my environment, all the same it boded ill. A storm was coming, the kind that rained dust and ash and left none alive that were unlucky enough to be caught in it.
Still, I saddled Rooh and made my way to the Lars farm, knowing that if a storm did approach it would be safer there or in town. In any event, it was a good opportunity to continue with Luke's instruction. I must remind myself that I am teaching him the basics only – focus, control and concealment. Beru keeps a watchful eye, although she is often distracted by daily chores which I flatter myself I assist with in some capacity.
I make a game of it with Luke – we both fold coarse sheets while I speak to him, telling jokes and singing songs and making up stories. It is his job to focus on his task and not telegraph his reactions through the Force. As you can imagine, Qui-Gon, the boy is poor at this, and excels at the opposite. When I ask him to project a feeling – to try and make me share whatever emotion he has it is potent and powerful. From even this rudimentary instruction I can see where his skills are – persuasion, healing, and intuition. It is a shame I cannot help him develop these abilities, and must restrict myself to dampening the light which burns so brightly inside him.
But today Luke was unsettled, although he was reluctant to tell me why. A dream, I eventually got out of him – a crying child that was not himself, heavy breathing in the darkness, a flash of red light. He was afraid, Luke told me, even now that he had awoken and knew he was safe. He still felt cold.
I despaired, thinking that his fraternal bond with his twin on Alderaan was the cause. Had Vader discovered her identity? I bid farewell to Beru as she wrapped Luke in a blanket and cradled him to her chest, giving him a mother's comfort I could never replicate. Then I headed straight for Anchorhead to see what I could find out. Tosche Station had access to the holonet, the small bar projecting the latest news from the Empire and Hutt Space, although few gave it attention.
I quelled my urgency and ordered a drink, glancing at the holonet absently as if I was disinterested. I knew if Leia had been exposed and Bail and Breha punished the Emperor would not have been able to resist broadcasting their treachery to the galaxy. Alderaan was still the pinnacle of Core society, and though they gave Palpatine lip service everyone knew their true allegiances.
However the report on the holonet was entirely unexpected. News travels slowly out here in the 'Rim, but evidently there had been an uprising on Mandolore, and I knew at once the source of both my and Luke's discomfort.
Bo-Katan and her Death Watch had indeed risen against the Empire, destroying several wings of the Imperial Academy before a grass roots rebellion had seen them commandeer the Palace. I remember Bo-Katan saying as much, although I had hoped with the passage of time she had come to see the foolishness of such an act. No rebellion can take root against the Empire on a single planet – it must be a collective, and only with strength in numbers across many worlds will it succeed.
The news report was brief, proclaiming victory for the Empire in stamping out the uprising. Death Watch had held the Palace for only three days before the Imperial fleet arrived and decimated them. There were no survivors.
I had to turn away when footage of the Emperor's speech began to play, unable and unwilling to hear his cruel, victorious words. He denounced Death Watch as terrorists swiftly dealt with rather than patriots fighting to reclaim their homeland of course, and he is so persuasive and cunning I fear for Bail Organa's roots of rebellion. The Emperor is still popular, and the people still blind.
But my sorrows are with poor Bo-Katan, with her child Mara who will now never know the peace I promised her. Luke must have dreamed her death, his mind so open that his father's dark deeds are manifesting themselves in his sleep. I must make stopping this a priority, lest Luke's mind reaches back to Vader's and he senses the boy's presence here.
I had such hopes for young Mara – I had nurtured wild dreams that one day Bo-Katan would find me and ask for the girl to be trained. What good I could have done with Luke and Mara, and perhaps one day Leia, teaching them to grow strong in the Force! There had been a strange whisper in the back of my mind when I met her, as if she was to play a part in the life of my young charge. But it must have been only a reflection, a path in life now blocked.
I hope she is one with the Force now, Qui-Gon, the poor child who deserved so much more. Perhaps, if it is even possible, you can watch over her for me.
Ben Kenobi
