Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea.
Author's Note and Thanks: I am posting this chapter to let everyone know that the muse is back. But that I will be focusing mostly on "A Twist of Fate" – unless I hear otherwise, I plan to finish that one first. I think my problem was that I bit off more story than I could adequately chew and thus, lost the impetus for both of my babies. To everyone who has supported me – both vocally and just by reading this story, my deepest and heartfelt thanks go out to you all. I hope this lives up to the wait and do apologize that there will still be a delay on it. Also, in a few days I will be changing my penname to match my lj one - eryn-skynobi.

***

Obi-Wan tossed uneasily on the bed, unable to find any amount of true rest. The silence in his mind was unendurable – and unnatural. The utter lack of Anakin appalled him, as did the sheer weight of the desperate fear he felt.

Rising, unable to rest any longer, he grabbed his folded cloak, thankful to Mrs. Lars for her kindness in caring for it. The fresh scent of it did nothing to dispel the chill he felt throughout him and seeping into his bones. As he pulled it on, he walked out, noticing the stillness that seemed odd for a working moisture farm.

Quickening his pace, he moved outside. The silence remained and deafened him. Kneeling down once he'd climbed to the top of the stairs, he reached out and felt the pull of life towards the desert beyond the barrier.

Returning to his feet, he made his way towards it and stopped, horrified by the death he was surrounded by. Only one lone person remained and he could not tell if it was a Tusken Raider or a farmer – or anyone at all. Rushing forward, he tried to offer aid, seeing the bleeding wound.

"Master," the specter croaked out before his breathing stuttered and stopped.

Shaking with fear, he reached out with a trembling hand and drew the covering robe aside. "No," his horrified whisper pierced the air as he stared at his Padawan's grey and bruised face. Anakin looked older, far older than he should.

Gasping, he jerked upright and wildly looked about the room. As his breathing slowed, he heard voices speaking softly from somewhere in the house. Pushing back the covers, he rose and saw his robe, neatly folded on the chair.

Dread crawled up his spine as he recalled that this had already happened.

Releasing it into the Force, he pulled it on and stepped out, following the voices into the kitchen. "I think we should postpone the party, mom. I want Anakin here for this. He's my brother." Obi-Wan heard someone say. He tried to place it but couldn't recall Anakin ever saying anything about having a brother – he only ever spoke of his mother.

"I understand your feelings because I feel the same way. But I also have to face the fact that it could be a long time before he'd found. The Jedi are not all powerful, omniscient beings. As I told Ani, we cannot stop living just because bad things happen. How long are you going to ask Beru to wait? I've waited ten long years to see Ani again – and he was safe then. Now, he's been captured by the unknown. His future's uncertain," she pointed out, heart breaking in her voice.

"I cannot – I will not – let what happened to him cause me to stop living. To shut myself up because of my hurt and pain," she finished.

Beru looked up, seeing Obi-Wan standing in the doorway, an uncertain look upon his face. She smiled kindly at him, "Good afternoon."

"Hello," he greeted them all, feeling uncomfortably aware of the attention he was receiving. Mostly the looks were curious, though Cliegg and Shmi's looks were full of compassion and knowledge of the cost he'd paid earlier. Had it only been hours ago that he'd lost Anakin and been in a fight for his life?

"Master Kenobi, sit down before you fall down," Shmi said, rising to walk over to him. Her look brooked no argument from him. He sank down in the offered chair, relieved to be off his feet. "Perhaps you could settle this for us."

"I will help in any way I can," he replied, wrapping his hands around the cup Cliegg handed him. Though he wasn't sure what it was exactly, the aroma was soothing to his senses. Not to mention that the warmth felt good to his aching soul.

"This evening we were going to have a party, both to welcome Ani," her voice cracked, the reminder of the loss stealing her voice momentarily. Obi-Wan touched her hand gently, offering her some measure of comfort. She continued after a moment, "To the family. We were also going to announce the engagement of Owen and Beru. Should we cancel the party because of what happened?"

"How many know of the dual purpose of the party?" he asked.

"My family, of course. There was really no way to escape them finding out when I introduced Anakin to them," Beru said with a tiny smile. "But no one else. They only suspect the engagement. Jedi Skywalker really didn't get involved in the community while he was here, though many are certainly aware that he was here. It is rather hard to hide the presence of a Jedi – especially one who'd won the Boonta Eve Classic."

Obi-Wan slowly nodded, "And the coming attack?"

"We felt it best to inform everyone of the Tuskens gathering presence," Cliegg said.

"So, if the party was cancelled, it would be just the five of us against them," he surmised. "Less death to the community but less ability to defend against them, not very good odds in my opinion. It would be logical to proceed with your plans, though I suspect that the delay is wanted because of an emotional reaction as opposed to any logistics in contacting those invited to make sure that they will not arrive."

"Yes, I want Anakin to be here. He's family," Owen said, then sighed. "But mom's right – as are you. We don't know when he'll be back – unless you know?"

Obi-Wan hated to disappoint him, to destroy the fragile hope he saw in those eyes – but he couldn't lie to him. He couldn't lie to any of them and bring about false belief. It was not only wrong, but was incredibly cruel to do so. "I'm sorry but I don't. The Force doesn't reveal all to us."

"Then what does it do?" Beru asked, curious. This was the first time she'd gotten a chance to ask the question that had been on her mind since meeting Anakin. For all his vaunted Jedi training, he seemed so normal. A bit too head strong and opinionated in her mind about some things, that was certainly true, but perfectly normal. So, what made him so different?

"It guides, warns, comforts, aids in defense, protects, gives us a greater awareness of things around us, heals…there are many other things I could list. These are just a few things. While the Force is not a tool, it can be used as such. But if one is truly in tune, the Force is a guide and companion upon the road of life," he could see the question in their eyes. Thus, his next words were spoken with a wince, "Yes, it could have guided me to Anakin had not our teacher/student bond been broken. Whoever took him knew what they were doing."

Cliegg cleared his throat, bringing their attention to him. "We are getting off the subject. Right now, we have to decide what to do. You can question him later."

Though he wanted to apologize for making Cliegg uncomfortable, he did not. It wasn't the kind of apology the man would accept. Cliegg was pragmatic; talking of the Force was not something that fit into his mind of the way things worked. Obi-Wan could accept that.

"I think you have already made the choice," he softly pointed out. "But if you would have my earnest counsel in this, I will give it. Do not stop living because Anakin is no longer physically with you. He is with you always. You cannot see how his love for you encircles you in protective waves. He is here still."

Shmi gasped, her eyes tearing up. It was one thing to believe that he was there. It was something else to hear it confirmed. Without a trace of self-consciousness, he hugged Obi-Wan, starling him. "Thank you," she whispered. "I needed to hear that so much."

"You're welcome," his answer was rather stilted sounding. Other than for Anakin, he'd never been hugged – never hugged another being. It felt odd to be held by someone he didn't really know.

Clearing her throat, she stood back up. "Let's get to work – except for you, Master Kenobi. You are not ready for anything. And don't say otherwise. You are not."

"I would not feel right, sitting here while you worked away," he protested.

"I'm a mother," she said, her look stern. "And you will not win this discussion. Rest, relax. There will be time enough for you to work later."

"I'd give up," Owen suggested, "You won't win."

Shmi smiled, "Listen to him. He's telling the truth."

Seeing that flash of Anakin in her face, silenced Obi-Wan. With an assenting – if every slow – nod, he sat back and watched them disappear out the door.

***

The sound of crying brought him out of his thoughts and turned his attention towards the other occupant in the room. Narrowing his eyes to see better in the gloom, he saw the woman from earlier. The one who'd stopped him from escaping.

Anger filled him and squashed his compassion for her plight. Turning away, he tried to let it go, feeling only frustrated as it clogged his throat.

"It won't help," she said.

"What?" he snapped.

"Letting you anger go – they won't allow it. Our captors need it to much. It's how they survive," she dully informed him.

"There has to be some way," he said, denying her words.

"I've been here for almost ten years. There is no way," she told him. "Do you think I've not tried? What they've done to us doesn't allow…do you even know?"

"I refuse to accept that there is no way out. I will not let them destroy what I am," he flatly said.

"You better, things will be easier for you."

"I don't want easy," he snarled. "I want out. And I will get out, make no mistake about that. I will get out of here."

"No one ever gets out."

"I'm not no one," the way he said it made it sound as though it was a name. He was unconsciously echoing the tenor of the words he'd said to Padmé on the day they met. "I am Anakin Skywalker."

"You will soon forget that name. I no longer remember my own for it is unimportant here."

A shiver of foreboding ran through him but he pushed it aside. "Even if that happens, I will never forget who I truly am. I will not live like this. I will be rescued or I will escape. There is simply no other acceptable solution."

For the first time, she actually looked at him. A strange light seemed to emanate from him, though it was tinged with the modifications that the scientist had done to him. In all her years there, she'd never seen anything quite like it. There was something about him that made her want to believe him. "You are a naïve idiot if you believe that." The words were spoken with as much venom as she could muster – directed at him and at herself for daring to believe in him.

"I'd rather be an idiot than a hopeless fool," he shot back. Any pity he'd begun to feel for her was suffocated once more. She wanted no help save death and he would not help her there. Not only would it not be her freedom, but it would be his funeral too.

The next morning – or what he believed was the morning – a formless figure tossed brown bowls of some kind of gruel into their cell. The woman ate ravenously, as if it was the first meal she'd had in months. With a great deal of reluctant distaste, Anakin picked it up. Though he did not like the way it looked, he picked up the spoon.

His hand suddenly burned.

With a dull slam, the spoon and the food fell to the floor. Blinking, he stared in dumb amazement as the brown grey gruel stained the dirty ground red. "What kind of devilry is this?" he asked hoarsely.

Stepping back, he absently rubbed his hand. Turning to the woman, he noticed that her gaze was focused on the gruel, starvation apparent in her face. Anakin shuddered away from the pathetic sight. Would he soon become as craven – as barrenly desperate as she?

No, he shook off such defeatist thoughts. Not only would he get out, he knew his Master was coming for him. And he knew that his Master never lied, no matter what. He would rescue Anakin – or die in the attempt.

But, his thoughts turned back to the strange burning sensation, if they took the Force away, how did I know of the danger in the food? Was it possible that something had gone wrong? "What was that?"

"Our weekly meal – which you have squandered," she replied.

Anakin knew hunger. Had dreaded it years ago. Even the somewhat generous manner of Watto had not protected his mother or him from the creeping pains that lack of food brought. Though he'd been provided for over the years, Anakin had not forgotten what it was like to live and work on an empty stomach. The gnawing ache that never quite seemed filled even with a good meal.

But he would not allow himself to dwell upon it or fear would come. There were other ways to get food, especially since he was quickly coming to the realization that the protective side of the Force wasn't as far from him as his captors – and his strange compatriot – seemed to believe.

He shrugged and she stared at him, utterly aghast at his audacity. "Are you daft? Don't you know what that means to you?"

"Sure. But I've gone without food before."

"I'm sure," she sneered at him. "A proper Jedi like you, growing up in that fine Temple with every need met. Yeah, you know what it's like to go hungry and be merely a plaything for others. Next you'll tell me that you can get us out of here with a pin and a thin wire."

Anakin walked over to the door and studied the lock. A grin crossed his face after a moment, "Why? Do you have them? Because it won't take me more that a minute to get this lock jimmied loose."

"And I suppose you think you can fly this thing out of here?" she sarcastically asked, ignoring the queer feeling inside. If felt strangely like hope.

Shrugging, he said as he walked back to sit down. "I was a pod racer at one time. Shouldn't be to hard to figure this ship out – given the freedom to do so."

The sheer volume of his confident audacity stopped her. All she could do was stare down at him in utter shock. The fool boy meant every word he said. He actually thought he could get out of here.

"You're cracked," she finally said.

"No. I have a plan to get out," he replied, meeting her look evenly. "I will never stop trying to escape. I was a slave once, I will not be one again. And even if I never succeed, my Master will save me."

"Your Master," she spat the word scathingly at him, "has forgotten you."

"No," he refuted her words. "He loves me and that is not something that Obi-Wan Kenobi does easily. He does not forget though he cares for and loves. Obi-Wan will come."

"You're a fool to believe that."

"You've made your opinion know as I have my truth. But mine will prove correct in the end." And with that, he began to meditate. Even if he could not reach the Force, he could find comfort in this action.

***

End, part whatever this one is