Dear Qui-Gon,

I am pleased to report that my lessons with Leia have progressed nicely. She is studious and bright, and I think much of that is thanks to Sabé, her erstwhile governess. And yet I see a great deal of Bail in her as well; that single-minded drive in everything she does, and already she shows half of Breha's poise although she does not yet possess her restraint.

We do not speak of the Force, although I do not lie to the child either. I teach her "special skills" which are primarily directed to strengthening her mind and will, so that even under direct probing her Force sensitivity should not be detected. Unfortunately as she grows these barriers will strengthen even further, and her mind will not be easy to unlock. She may not even remember our lessons – oh, she may have a vague recollection of me, dear "General Kenobi" as she has taken to calling me in private, but her special skills will no doubt merge with all her other lessons of riding and history and etiquette. Perhaps that is as it should be.

But events have turned. I accompanied the family and Sabé to the public gardens, where a variety of sculptures by local artists had been collected as part of the millennial celebrations. They were quite beautiful, although I confess many of them I did not understand, and Sabé would patiently explain the media used, the possible meanings, and tidbits about the artist if she knew them well.

Leia would chime in occasionally, and I was impressed by the young girl's insight, although I knew art is considered of vital importance to Alderaanian culture and studied since birth. Bail and Breha walked a few paces in front of us arm in arm, nodding regally at their subjects as they passed, occasionally stopping to converse with them.

One piece caught my eye, a large charcoal sculpture carved into a triangular shape. On the walls were etched words I knew to be Old Alderaanian although I could not decipher them. Around the base were scattered five pillars, clearly broken off the sculpture where jagged spires jutted out of the stepped apex. From these open wounds emanated a billowing, translucent material of grey and red that danced in the air.

Sabé didn't need to explain the piece to me – I had seen the Jedi Temple burn with my own eyes.

"It's called The Death of Peace," she told me softly, putting a hand on my arm. But I was transfixed, all the memories and pain of that day flooding back.

"Sabé." Breha's voice, unusually curt, and I turned to see a tall, silver-haired man in an Imperial uniform approach briskly. I could see from the bars on his chest that he was of high rank, and quickly fixed my expression into one of neutrality.

"Governor Maxiam," Breha greeted the officer evenly. "Nice of you to attend our celebrations and see the rich culture Alderaan has to offer."

"Yes." Maxiam examined his fingernails with disinterest. "I am well aware of your – culture – your Majesty. In fact, I am inundated with it."

"Good morning, Governor." Leia stepped forward and curtseyed sweetly. "It is our pleasure to welcome you to our gardens."

Out the corner of my eye I saw Sabé smile, pride in her pupil clear. It seemed to work, a chip falling away from Maxiam's cold exterior.

"Thank you, Princess," he said to her and bowed slightly, before his gaze drifted to me. "And who is your guest?"

"This is my cousin, Ben," Breha introduced me.

"Ah," Maxiam nodded and waved his hand airily. "Forgive me. You Organas are so numerous it is hard to keep track. Your cousin, you say? Bellum's son?"

"No, Ben is my third cousin," Breha lied smoothly. "Great Grandmama Alderia had ten children, the youngest of which-"

Maxiam held up his hand to stop her. "Please," he said, rubbing his forehead. "No more family history."

Breha's smile betrayed no relief, although she must have felt it. "As you wish."

"And what is this?" Maxiam brushed past me to examine the sculpture more closely.

"A work of great skill," Bail said tightly. "Perhaps it depicts the smoking mountains in the South Seas."

"No." Maxiam turned back to face Bail very slowly. "Senator Organa, you know what this is, just as I do. You were a witness to this event."

"What are you implying, Governor?" Breha's voice was steel. "We do not censor our artists, they are free to submit any piece they feel appropriate."

"And this?" Maxiam gestured to the sculpture. "I assure you the Emperor would not feel it appropriate." He removed a commlink from his belt and thumbed it on. "Commander Vidian, locate and arrest," he examined the sculpture plate for the name of the artist, "Pasquale Allidia." Maxiam turned off the device and took a menacing step towards Breha. Bail stepped in between them, and the two men stood eye to eye.

"I advise you not to interfere," Maxiam said, his voice low and dangerous. "Unless you want to Emperor to think you are complicit. I am sure Lord Vader will be vigilant when he arrives next month to ensure something like this doesn't happen again. For your daughter's sake - I hope not."

A muscle in Bail's jaw visibly clenched, and he glanced down a Leia, looking at Maxiam with wide eyes. He stepped aside and allowed the man to pass, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"There wasn't anything you could have done," I assured him when Maxiam was out of sight, trying not to think of the fate of the artist.

"But that's not fair," Leia whispered softly, a frown marring her pretty face.

"I know." Bail scooped her into his arms and held her close.

"What kind of monarch am I, who cannot protect her own people?" Breha asked, for once her calm manner dispelled by distress. Bail put his arm around her too, the three standing there together and I felt inadequate to comfort them. There would be many such choices ahead, and there was nothing I could do to change that.

Sabé tugged lightly on my arm, and led me back to her quarters where she prepared the tea – black and bitter, this time. Appropriate.

"I have to go," I told her. "I've been away from Luke too long, and I cannot be here when Vader is."

Sabé nodded and took a sip of her tea. "You think he will come earlier?"

"It's possible." I stroked my chin, actually looking forward to growing out my beard again. "Especially if he is looking for anything treasonous."

"And Leia?"

"She will be fine," I assured her. "I've taught her all I can. Well…all that was asked of me. I will miss her, though," I added at Sabé's soft smile. "I will miss you all."

I knew she would never ask me to stay, although it was doubtless on her mind. Force knows it was on mine. But I had made a vow to Luke, and as much as I cared for Leia she was not my charge. In truth, I missed the boy terribly.

"Leia told me she's stopped having her dreams," Sabé said, placing her cup down in its saucer and turning it slightly. "About the boy who lives in the sun."

"Yes." I sighed. "I regret that connection is probably lost to her now." A side effect of her Force barriers; an unwelcome but unavoidable one.

"In her dreams she was a girl in the mountain, who would call the sun to her when it set so they could play together." When Sabé raised her eyes to mine, they were wet. "Appropriate, don't you think?"

"Indeed." I took a sip of tea, the bitterness welcome on my tongue. What else was there to say?

"The last dream she had, she woke up crying," Sabé added, her usually cool countenance starting to crack. "He's so lonely, she said. So I know you must go back, that your place is with Luke." She shifted around the table to sit next to me, her small hands grasping mine. "But I worry about you, Obi-Wan," she said, squeezing my hand. "Out there in the desert with no one to talk to."

My heart ached to think of Luke all alone, wondering if he'd noticed my absence, if his loneliness was in part because of me. As much as I wanted to see him again, I was not looking forward to returning

"I have Qui-Gon," I said somewhat feebly. "And Yoda, if I feel I need a scolding."

"I mean a friend of flesh and blood," she said, a smile quirking her lips. "Everyone needs that."

"I'll get by," I whispered, kissing her forehead and choosing not to mention my eopie Rooh. Somehow even though she fit the criteria I doubt Sabé would find her adequate either.

"If you ever so feel alone," she told me, turning her face upward to mine. "Just remember, someone is out there, thinking of you fondly."

She kissed me then, and we did not speak further, since words were unnecessary and goodbyes unspoken.


I met with Leia and her parents the following morning to bid my farewells. I tried reaching out to Leia through the Force, and felt nothing out the ordinary which gives me both comfort in the knowledge of her safety, and disquiet that the Force within her is suppressed. Although necessary, I can't quite forgive myself for the act.

But Bail and Breha are grateful enough, Bail shaking my hand firmly and Breha giving me a warm embrace. I tell them not to worry about Vader, that their concern will be felt keenly by him, and he will wonder why. Trust in the Force, I advise them, and in your daughter, whose mind is stronger than anyone I have ever known.

"Goodbye, my little cadet," I crouched down to Leia's eye level, and pinched her cheek fondly. "You've done so well."

Leia wrinkled her nose at me, mischief sparkling in those large brown eyes. "Don't I deserve a promotion then?"

I laughed. "Fair enough," I winked at her, unable to deny the child such acknowledgement. "My little Lieutenant."

"General." She stood to attention and saluted me, one I returned with pride and a promise. One day, I will awaken the Force in her again – perhaps when Luke is grown I can bring him to her, and reunite the family I played a part in tearing apart.

Yes. I feel this in the Force, Qui-Gon, in my very bones. I do not know when, or how, but one day Luke and Leia will see each other once more. After all, the sun crests and embraces the mountain before the two are pulled apart during the long day. But always, the sun sets and touches the horizon again, for the two cannot be kept apart.

Their separations may be frequent and long, but they will always find one another.

Obi-Wan Kenobi