When I told the Naboo I needed to stop on Tatooine, I could sense their surprise, and Captain Panaka flat out refused. He hadn't wanted to land there when we had had no choice, and there was no way he would allow me to endanger the Queen a second time. I insisted, and said I would stop there one way or the other, even if I took a separate ship and met them on Naboo.

I stood before him, braced with legs apart, my arms folded across my chest and a mask of Jedi serenity on my face. I was implacable: a rock that others could fling themselves against, only to shatter against my stone exterior as I remained untouched. Inside, I was anything but serene – I was impatient, irritated and determined. My stare could face down almost anyone – but Captain Panaka was not cowed in the least.

"I – will - not – endanger - the Queen!" he snarled through closed lips. His hard eyes never blinked as he stood toe to toe with me. Neither of us was willing to give an inch.

I leaned forward with a growl. "I am going to Tatooine. If you won't stop on your way, I will go on my own and try to rejoin you on Naboo, but I am going to Tatooine, Captain. There is no negotiation on that matter. None."

"Why?" Captain Panaka demanded, throwing up his hands.

My heart beat painfully in my chest. Because my long-lost and rediscovered padawan is there! Because I had to abandon him! Because I made a promise, and a Jedi always keeps his promises!

Because I need Obi-Wan back at my side.

Because Obi-Wan never deserved such a fate, and I had the means to free him.

"I need to pick up a Jedi there. He has been gone," I swallowed with difficulty, "on a long and difficult mission. His very freedom is at stake."

That last was not stretching the truth.

"Captain," the Queen said.

We both turned, surprised, for deep in our argument, we had not noticed her approach. How long had she been standing there? Padme was behind her shoulder, and her eyes went to mine and she smiled in sympathy, as if she sensed my deep distress and determination.

"We will go to Tatooine, Captain." The Queen turned in clear dismissal and left the room, leaving the captain sputtering in total dismay and anger. I only smiled.

We landed, as before, on the outskirts of town. I took no one with me. Once again, I trudged over the sands of Tatooine, feeling the small grains swirl against my face and scour the polish off my boots. Even with my cloak drawn tight around me, sand burrowed its way up my sleeves and inside my boots. I could feel the grit grind under my feet. I wondered if anyone living here actually considered Tatooine home, or was it merely a place they lived.

Surely no one willingly lived here, except those native to the planet.

It was almost midday. The twin suns were almost directly overhead, and sweat mixed with sand on my face despite my best efforts. What a desolate and hellish place, I thought, so different from the Jedi Temple. Would Obi-Wan find its cool peace welcome, or cold, once I brought him home?

The planet was about as far as one could get from the cool serenity of the Temple on Coruscant. There, wide corridors were lined with small fountains and windows spanned from nearly the floor to the ceiling in the grand corridor. The Temple was filled with peace and contemplation: a soft counterpoint to the bustle and anxiety outside.

Living quarters were nearly Spartan – comfortable, but small and minimal, for a Jedi owned but little in the way of possessions. It would probably seem luxurious to my long-lost padawan, for his current living quarters was probably merely a shelter, crowded and smelly, merely a place to stretch out in exhausted sleep at night, before the next day brought its relentless and never-ending grind.

A Jedi was used to a lifestyle that was often harsh and difficult, while on missions, but there was always an end to it, always a return to the soothing welcome of home. Obi-Wan had had no relief, not for five long years.

On his return, would he feel lost and aimless, or full of purpose? Should I insist on a long rest, or fill his time with easy missions? I would seek Yoda's counsel, but Obi-Wan would have a reprieve from toil. He would have time to relax, I vowed. I would remain at his side until I knew he had put the past behind him and was ready to move on.

My musings ended as I entered the dusty streets of Mos Espa. The heat fairly shimmered off the walls, and sucked the moisture from every cell of my body. Any beings out in the heat moved languorously; no one was willing to expend much effort. Even the animals huddled in pitiful patches of shade, for with the suns overhead there was little of it to be found.

Despite the oppressive heat, I hurried to where I'd seen Obi-Wan before - and realized I didn't know his owner's name, or where to find him. Trying to blink some moisture back into my parched eyeballs, I tried to think of the best way to proceed. Out of long-buried habit, I sent a tendril of Force out searching for Obi-Wan and I was startled to connect to him.

Master?

I'm here for you, Obi-Wan! I said. I came back, as I promised.

There was silence between us for a moment, and I nearly panicked. A feeling of overwhelming joy and love suddenly burst through the bond and surrounded me. I looked at my hands, half expecting a shimmer of light to outline them. I realized what Yoda had said was true: Obi-Wan carried his own happiness within him. He had never lost it; somehow, he had managed to retain it during all the dark and painful years that separated us.

Right now, I had to focus on freeing Obi-Wan; I would worry about everything else afterwards.

How do I find you, free you?

With Obi-Wan's guidance, I found my way through the dusty streets, until I sensed him just ahead of me. I could feel his very heart racing, or was it mine? I rounded the corner and saw him, working hard, the sweat dripping from his face and his tunic sticking wetly to his back. He turned his head and grinned at me, but made no other sign that he saw me. I ignored him, too.

I nearly jumped when Obi-Wan suddenly gagged and leaned over as if he could hardly breathe. The coughs that followed were no better. . Oh Force, he was sick. Terribly sick. I had no desire to bargain anymore, I just wanted to hold him in my arms and tell him he would be okay.

Then he winked at me.

My breath caught in my throat and I crossed my arms and stared crossly at him as my heart settled back into a steady rhythm.

Lowering my price, he whispered through the bond.

You have learned deception, my padawan, I returned, as my dread turned into a relieved smile. He must have taken that as a rebuke, for he did not return my thought. I did regret that he had learned deception in this life of his, for he never been given to deceit before, but it was hardly a flaw.

"Ah, you're back, thinking of buying my slave after all?" his owner suddenly showed up at my elbow. I shrugged my shoulders and slowly turned to look at him.

"Perhaps, but no. He seems sick," I said carelessly. On cue, Obi-Wan coughed again and wiped his mouth with an unsteady hand. I turned away dismissively. "I don't think so. He's not worth it."

"You can have him for twenty thousand," his owner said, as if that was a bargain. "He's young; when he recovers you will get much use from him. He's a hard worker."

"Twenty thousand! It'll cost that much to feed him while he's sick, and I'm not so sure he'll recover. He sounds like he's caught the Outer Rim flu that's just reaching here. It kills about thirty per cent of those infected. Not worth it." I turned away, hiding a smile. There was no such disease sweeping the Outer Rim, but I didn't think his owner knew that.

"Fifteen thousand."

I kept walking.

"Twelve five."

I stopped and turned, looked at Obi-Wan appraisingly. "Five. He needs treatment."

"Ten. No less."

I sighed, hesitated. "Ten," I agreed. It was higher than I expected to bargain the creature down to, especially if Obi-Wan had been "lowering his price," in expectation of my return. On the other hand, I wanted Obi-Wan badly enough to just hand over the fifty I had with me. I handed over the credits, carefully making it seem as if that was all the credits I had on me. I had no wish to be waylaid, not with Obi-Wan just freed from captivity. I needed to keep my focus on him.

"You there, you will obey me at all times," I said in a stern voice, grabbing one arm and pulling Obi-Wan in front of me. He flinched just a bit at my grasp, and I relaxed my vise-like grip. My fingers must have been digging into the thin and tender skin of his wrist. I didn't mean to hurt him, but now that I had him, I wasn't letting him go.

"You belong with me, now, understand? I am your master." Even as I stood there spouting off, my eyes twinkled with joy, for indeed Obi-Wan was back where he belonged, with me. For five long years, there had been an empty spot at my side and in my heart, and the one who made it whole was now within my grasp.

My hand was trembling just a bit as I reached a hand to cup his face, still smooth shaven but the skin dry and rough from exposure to the sun. I rubbed my thumb over his cheekbone and smiled into his eyes. Let that filthy slave-owner – former slave owner, I corrected myself – think I wanted Obi-Wan for whatever reason he chose to believe.

Obi-Wan was very quiet and still under my hand, and he flushed just a bit as he dropped his head and murmured, "Yes, Master."

The reality that he was free, that he could resume his true life as a Jedi, was just setting in, and I sensed his heart was too full for an outward expression of his feelings. I could sense the joy bubbling just below the surface, however, and I leaned close to his ear and whispered, "You're free, Padawan, you're free."

He dropped to one knee in front of me, head bowed. "Master," he said formally, his voice firm and yet soft. His lashes dropped to his cheek as if to hide deep emotion, then lifted to reveal eyes full of relief and happiness.

Grekle gave a sort of cackle as he deactivated the slave chip with a quick pass of a tool. "Better re-register 'im quickly and get that chip reactivated with your own code," he advised. "Here's his papers. You have your fun with him, eh? Never seen 'im that respectful to me – he must like you."

To Grekle, to any onlooker, it had to have looked like a slave giving obeisance to his new owner. To a Jedi, it was a gesture of respect and humility, usually from a padawan to his master, though not always. I lifted Obi-Wan to his feet, and with a soft, "you please me," for Grekle's amusement, I patted his cheek, grinning shamelessly with joy, for my back was to Grekle.

By now, Obi-Wan's eyes were sparkling with many emotions. I wanted to get him away from there, away from those memories, so I put my hand on his arm and ordered him to come with me.

Just before we left, I asked a brusque final question of Grekle: did Obi-Wan have some other kind of restraint on him, answered no. What then had inhibited the Force from Obi-Wan? I wondered, going back to my earlier suspicions that it arose from his memory loss. There were many questions and many answers to come, after our true reunion in private.

As much as I wanted to get Obi-Wan away from Tatooine, I didn't wish him or the Naboo to face each other until Obi-Wan was cleaned up and had time to absorb his freedom. I wanted them to meet Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi, not Obi-Wan the freed slave, and I wanted the Jedi to meet the Naboo.

I had rented a room with a private fresher and I led Obi-Wan there. I kept one hand under his elbow. I needed the contact. We didn't say anything, until I unlocked the door with a swipe of the card and held the door open.

It was probably the first courteous thing anyone had done to Obi-Wan in years, for he initially hung back until I nodded at him to procede me into the cool recess of the small room. He started forward, then stopped, turned around and faced me with a teasing grin on his face.

He was the first to speak. His eyes sparkled as he demanded, "So, I was only worth five to you, huh?"

I stared at him, surprised and a big smile spread over my face. "You are worth the full twenty, padawan, and plenty more, but there was no reason for that," I used a name for that so-called slave owner, so filthy a word, that Obi-Wan's eyes were shocked, "to pocket that much. Go on, in with you."

He looked at the door, then back at me, and I saw he had lost the teasing look. He was solemn and seemed almost in disbelief that this moment had come – that his life was back in his own hands. I saw him square his shoulders and lift his head, and step inside.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said softly, as soon as I shut the door behind us. He fell into my arms, or I into his, and we held each other tight, his head pressed in the curve of my neck and shoulder and his arms warm around me. I patted him gently on the back, holding him close to my heart, where he had always been and would always be.