The hum of the lightsaber was droning, as Obi Wan had always known it. Enthralling. A finger played idly over his upper lip, and Luke hoped he was watching him, but he wasn't.
Luke should be watching what he was doing instead of sneaking little looks at Obi Wan, and the remote managed to score a few hits.
Two steps backward, Obi Wan reminded himself. He couldn't remember when he had struggled in the Force, but of course he had.
Luke called him Ben still. After seeing the beautiful woman in the holomessage greet him as General Kenobi, after hearing her say, "help me, Obi Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope," he still called him Ben.
How long since Obi Wan last heard a lightsaber? His own had been muted. It was an awakening. He met an old friend. Beautiful.
"How old are you, Luke?" he asked.
Luke straightened, and the remote zapped him on the bicep this time. "Ow," he winced. "Nineteen, sir," he answered.
Obi Wan nodded, and Luke rubbed his arm and Captain Solo laughed.
"You come and try," Luke dared him angrily. He was losing patience with himself, lashing out.
"Not with that stick," Solo declined, referring to Luke's lightsaber, still amused. But he had paused the remote from attacking while Luke spoke and waited for Obi Wan to give him a signal to resume the programming.
"I broke your concentration," Obi Wan said. "Forgive me."
"Why did you want to know?" Luke asked. He positioned himself in the fight stance again, and Obi Wan nodded at Solo.
Obi Wan had lost all track of time. "No special reason," he answered Luke.
"I'll be ready for another lesson soon," Luke promised. "Let me hit it five more times."
"When you feel you are ready," Obi Wan said graciously. Luke was still a boy, so young.
Nineteen years, he was thinking. That long.
"Where is the 'fresher?" he asked Captain Solo.
The young man told him. He wasn't nineteen. He was older. How much, Obi Wan couldn't discern, not even with the Force. Too obstinate and handsome for it to be any use. He talked so anyone would think him stupid, but his eyes were shrewd.
Obi Wan found the 'fresher and slid the door shut. He wanted to look in the reflector.
Nineteen years. If asked, Obi Wan would describe himself as a man who possessed a confidence that gave him years, much like the captain of this ship. The Millennium Falcon, he recited to himself. He wanted to remember everything; he wanted it all clear.
His beard, his hair- ah, but the Force was full of love and irony, was it not. His point of vanity- was his youth indeed gone- thick and reddish auburn and clean and cared for-
Good gods, was that him?
Obi Wan stared at his own image and it returned his gaze, showing the surprise he felt. Life stared back, merely the passing of nineteen years. The confidence was bent, quieter. His hair was gray. Gray!
Well, at least he'd been able to tend to himself after nineteen years in the desert without a reflector. His beard was still full and trimmed, but it was also gray. As shocking to his senses as hearing the lightsaber again.
He turned to the side, stepped back and raised himself on tiptoe to see if the small reflector would show him the rest of his body. Perhaps there was a slight paunch; not bad for a life of general inactivity.
Obi Wan paused upon leaving the 'fresher. The freighter's copilot was rummaging in a locker. The Wookiee's fur was russet, legs like tree trunks, and even squatting on his haunches his eyes were almost the same level as Obi Wan's standing.
How did a Wookiee come to be a smuggler's copilot, he wondered. And he asked a question he hadn't in a long time, nineteen years: was the Force with him?
For the Wookiee was quick to snag him out of the possible pilots who might take on his charter to Alderaan. He had tapped Obi Wan on the shoulder and pointed out Captain Solo, using gestures more than words, but Obi Wan had understood him to say, We probably will need a quick liftoff like you, and Obi Wan had answered I need someone who can put his troubles behind mine.
Oh, he will, the Wookiee's eyes had gleamed that someone actually conversed with him. He doesn't like to think of his own. Don't tell him you have any, though.
Obi Wan had nodded and smiled an acknowledgement for the advice and an appreciation for the Wookiee's sense of humor and large affection.
Captain Solo might think Obi Wan hired his fast ship, but Obi Wan had hired the Wookiee.
*Where is that sensor manual board,* Chewbacca was grumbling at the contents of the locker.
"The R2 is an astromech," Obi Wan said. "If you can't locate the manual perhaps it can diagnose your sensor."
*How is it you come to understand my language?* the Wookiee straightened his enormous body. *Not many do.*
"Oh," Obi Wan smiled. "I was not always stranded in the desert. In my youth," and he passed his hand mournfully over his thinning gray hair, "I have seen much."
Too much. Done too little? Is that what happened?
"Your captain understands you well," Obi Wan pointed out.
Chewbacca nodded solemnly. *He has an ear for language.*
"Does he?" Obi Wan's brows rose and he was pleasantly surprised. "That is a wise talent."
The Wookiee actually winked. *I don't know about wise.*
Obi Wan smiled. "At least it helped him get a copilot."
*You are a Jedi,* the Wookiee growled at him, but not accusingly, like Obi Wan had heard in recent times. Almost protectively, like he shared the secret.
"I am," Obi Wan admitted to Chewbacca. "I did not mean to give myself away. I was perhaps too quick to use my weapon in the boy's defense in the cantina."
The Wookiee shrugged. *Your quick defense earned you the respect of the room; not your weapon.*
"Wouldn't that be nice," Obi Wan smiled.
*It is why I spoke for you. If the Captain's head is turned he might take your job. Other times, you have to hit him on the head.* White, sharp teeth suddenly flashed and the Wookie laughed at his own joke.
Obi Wan laughed lightly with him. "Let us hope it does not come to blows," he said.
*Oh, it won't,* Chewbacca chortled. *He saw you too.*
Back in the lounge, Captain Solo was still watching Luke duel with the target remote. Luke closed up his lightsaber when Obi Wan reappeared.
"Is there more?" he asked. "I mean, other ways to teach the Force besides the lightsaber?" He flushed. "I'm feeling a little bruised."
Obi Wan smiled at him. "Certainly there is more. To be a Jedi is to embrace a philosophy."
Captain Solo interrupted with one of his smug opinions. "I always thought of the Jedi as missionizing warrior monks."
Obi Wan ignored him. "Children identified with sensitivity to the Force are brought to the Jedi Temple at a very young age. They are taught much more than combat, for the Force is present in every aspect of their lives."
"See," the captain broke in again. "What I said."
Luke looked at him. He was without any kind of attitude or prejudice which the captain possessed. "Then," he said slowly. "Did... Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Your uncle was your guardian, Luke," Obi Wan said gently.
Again, Luke wrestled with the magnitude of the revelation Obi Wan had given him only hours earlier, coupled with the fresh and vicious loss of his aunt and uncle.
"Did he know?" Luke asked.
Obi Wan planned his response, and briefly closed his eyes. "Human nature knows only what it wants to know," he said.
The captain made a noise, like a snort.
"Also," Obi Wan added; it had been a mistake to mention Luke's father to the youth. He blamed it on the unexpected sight of the R2 unit and he got sentimental. But in the quiet of flight he had no more intention of speaking of the man and needed to derail Luke's thoughts. "It is a bad time for beings possessing your capability. The Emperor views those who can manipulate the Force as a threat."
Luke nodded, but Obi Wan saw he was even more overwhelmed. "Try this," he suggested. "Sit on the floor." Obi Wan's own body would protest such movement, but Luke did so readily and easily.
"Breathe," Obi Wan instructed. "Fill your chest with air slowly, and just as slowly release it. Close your eyes, and open your mind. Do not see me, or Captain Solo; do not look at anything. Do not let your mind tell you the interior of this freighter is shabby-"
"That's uncalled for," Captain Solo objected. His voice was dry, that shrewdness evident.
A corner of Obi Wan's mouth tugged slightly. He had been unable to resist making a poke at the captain. "- do not think of where you are headed, or where you have been." He gave that last a weighted pause, because he knew that was difficult. "Let no thoughts enter your mind."
Luke did as he was told. Obi Wan watched as the rise of his chest slowed and deepened. He was a young man now, Obi Wan thought. It didn't seem that long ago he had asked Owen and Beru Lars if they would take in their orphaned nephew. But proof was stronger than memory. Luke was nineteen.
It was a long time to be idle.
Then he realized he was thinking of himself.
Captain Solo jerked a thumb at Luke. "Should I get him a pillow?"
They both looked at Luke, whose face flickered at the sarcasm, but he kept his eyes closed and his breathing was even.
Satisfied, Obi Wan turned back to the captain. "No," he said for Luke's benefit.
"So what's going to happen when we get to Alderaan?" Captain Solo asked.
"I thought we agreed no questions," Obi Wan reminded the young man of the charter.
Solo grinned, but his eyes were hard. "Not after that departure," he pointed out.
True enough. It didn't matter now, anyway.
"I shall seek an audience with Viceroy Organa."
"Her father?" came from Luke on the floor. His eyes were still closed. Certainly his hearing was good.
"Who's her?" Solo asked.
"You're thinking about her," Obi Wan spoke to Luke.
Obi Wan was too, it couldn't be helped. Bail Organa's smile, they way he cradled his adopted daughter in the crook of his arm. Nineteen years ago.
"I am," the boy nodded eagerly, eyes still closed. "I swear, I emptied my mind, and she entered."
Obi Wan rubbed an eyebrow. "It can't be helped, I suppose."
"What do you think happened to her?" Luke had opened his eyes. Obi Wan sighed. This lesson was ended quickly. "Do you think she was captured?"
"Yes." Obi Wan sighed again. "It is most likely she was brought into Imperial custody."
"And what will- what do they do?" Luke looked concerned. "It's treason, right?"
"Viceroy," Captain Solo murmured thoughtfully. Apparently the captain's thoughts were veering down another path.
The Force was indeed with him, Obi Wan thought. The captain was an excellent distraction.
He nodded at him. "An office in support of the monarch."
"And she's part of the Rebellion?" Luke asked.
"Kriff," came from the captain.
The curse caused Obi Wan to smile. "It's well known her father is. They are a powerful family. I was unaware she had undertaken a role herself."
"Will she- is it summary execution?" Luke said.
"She is a person of political importance," Obi Wan said carefully. "That might mean something." Solo snorted again. "And her swift action of dispatching the droids doubtless bought her a few hours." He thought about the lovely woman in the white gown, and felt a little sick. "It will be a difficult few hours."
Obi Wan lapsed into thought. It was unexpected, that the one to bring him back into the Force was Bail Organa and not Master Yoda. Was he even still alive? Is that how so much time passed?
Bail had promised the baby would be loved, and it seemed she was. That was nice to know. It was comforting.
Obi Wan looked over at Luke, who was still sitting on the floor, eyes politely quiet on him. "I enjoyed living on Tatooine, Luke. I want you to know that."
Luke frowned. "It's a rather abrupt change of subject, but I'm glad. What does it have to do with her?"
Obi Wan smiled slightly. "That remains to be seen, my friend."
"What have you brought into my life, old man," Captain Solo wanted to know. "The Rebellion? You're tellin' me you're some sort of spy, just wanders into a cantina on some backwater planet to cut a guy's arm off?"
"Will you go back, Ben? To Tatooine?"
"No, Luke. I think I shall probably remain on Alderaan, under the protection of the Viceroy, and bring my spy game, as the noble tutelage of the Jedi has been so aptly called," Obi Wan shot a wry grin Captain Solo's way, who answered with a scowl. "You should remain there as well, Luke."
"And in the meantime I'll be shootin' Imps off my tail every port I approach," Captain Solo complained.
"In the meantime try and have a little sympathy for someone else," Luke said sternly. "Think about all the lives the Empire has disrupted. Think about her, about to be ex-"
"You're the one moonin' over her. And I still don't know who she is."
"'-ecuted. Think about me and Ben, about to-"
"I don't care about you. You're just a charter. I got me to worry about, alright kid? and let me tell you, that's enough to worry about."
Luke's power of argument was not highly developed yet, and he stopped trying to convince the captain of his point of view, and sulked. "Well, you should try and worry about someone else beside yourself for once."
Obi Wan frowned at the captain too. Was he wrong about the shrewdness in the eyes? Or was it hunger?
"The simplest of knots is often the hardest to undo," he said.
"Who said anything about knots?"
"The being who avoids entanglements is the first to wrap himself around it."
"That ain't true of smugglers, old man."
"Listen," Luke scrambled to his feet, "I'm tired of you already. Whether you like it or not, you're roped in. And try using our names for once. It's annoying."
Captain Solo leaned forward in his seat and spread his arms. "You didn't introduce yourselves," he retorted. Luke blinked in memory. "Yeah, think back," the captain sneered. "You better go back to your lessons. You got a lot to learn."
Comical almost, Obi Wan thought. The Force was certainly with him, to provide him a moment like this. It was a blaster and a lightsaber arguing about manners. But the captain had a point.
"We should get back to your training," Obi Wan conceded. "Circumstances have deemed it urgent. We are not even guaranteed a peaceful landing on Alderaan. I fear the Rebellion has tipped their hand and there's no telling how the Emperor will react."
"Him," Luke grumbled. "Han." He had learned the name in the cantina, and he would use it. "What a load, huh?"
Obi Wan smiled. "There are those who show their heart, and others who show their wisdom." He started the remote again.
Luke eyed it warily. "You mean you and me?"
"And those who hide both, to reveal them in a flash."
"I don't know about that," Luke said. His shoulders shifted whenever the remote moved; his break had done him well. "It'd be a pleasant surprise." All of a sudden, he slashed his lightsaber down at an angle, and met the remote's beam.
"Well done, Luke."