Chapter Text
5 BBY
In all told, it hadn’t taken any time at all for them to pack up their life on Tatooine.
Beru knew that this was only partially because Tatooine didn’t exactly inspire a materialistic life and so there hadn’t much to pack. In truth, it was because most of what they’d take with them, had already been packed. It had been, since Luke was twelve, after he had heard about the Rebellion and wanted to join, and they had done a good job of keeping him safe here for as long as they’d been able to, but they’d always known that one day he’d go.
Maybe not the way that he had left, but they’d known it would come in a handful more years at most, so they’d easily packed up what they hadn’t had prepped, and made arrangements with the Darklighters to take care of the homestead in their absence. They’d spent the last four years honing any skills that would make them worth something to the Rebellion.
However, they’d only ever intended to wait for Luke to come back, up to the point of when it looked like he might become a named target of the Empire – and now with Ben all but declaring war on the Empire, it wouldn’t be long before Luke joined the Most Wanted list – so they’d meant to high-tail it to him.
What they hadn’t counted on was troopers to show up out of the sand before they could leave.
Their Commander hadn’t been able to stay, leaving while looking a little harried and on the verge of going full grey because of her brother-in-law, but the men that had come with had stayed.
Of the four of them, three were trailing Owen, helping him carry their bags to the speeders they’d come on before aiding him in digging up that stash of money that Ben had given them a few years back that he’d refused to use out of pride except where absolutely necessary.
The fourth was trailing her, “Ma’am, do you need any help?”
She continued sorting through her various rifle attachments and mods that she’d picked up over the years, smiling fondly at the ones Owen had given her on anniversaries, “Not particularly. A person should handle their own weapon at all times.” – before glancing at him – “Your squad intends to come with us to Luke?”
“Elek.”
“Is it because where he is, is where you’ll find my reckless brother-in-law?”
There a little bit of an awkward shuffle from each of the clones who’d heard her, as a second clone had come inside their home while she’d been fiddling with her rifle, “It is part of it. You are also a part of his aliit, and that leaves you a target of the Empire whether they’re aware of it at the moment or not. More so if you’re going to follow in the wake of the chaos our General is going to leave behind him intentionally or not.”
Beru turned more fully to face them, having listened to enough of Owen’s rants over the years to know exactly what sort of chaos he meant, and having seen more than enough of the gestures that Ben had made over the years watching out for Owen as much as Luke, as he had Anakin, if from a bit more of a distance. The former suggested that their experience with the sort of trouble Tatooine was typically subject to, wouldn’t be enough, and that they’d need their experience at some point. The latter suggested that they both knew that Ben would come to their rescue if they were captured somewhere along the way, and it was better to nip that in the bud before a moon ended up on fire – because that was a thing that had actually happened, sadly – and they made it known they could play bait for the most wanted man in the galaxy.
“Okay.”
There was a collective blink from the two in the room, and one glanced at the other, even taking off his helmet to show the sides of his head were shaved to dead-eye his brother, “Did this just happen? I expected resistance. I was prepared for resistance. I reviewed that old memo Cody gave us over what to do when a General is being difficult over their own health and safety. It required a whole data-pad’s worth of memory. It took me three days to go over it again. Why isn’t she fighting us on this, Long-shot?”
“She isn’t the General, Crosshairs. The General was a special sort of obstinate and terrible about his own health and safety.”
Beru wanted to raise an eyebrow, to express how much she found the idea that Ben was terrible at taking care of himself as if it was a surprise, but she couldn’t manage it.
Deadpanning, “He is very much so.” – while easily able to think of ten different instances of such, with one particular instance standing out – “He reached a peak right around when Luke was three when he passed out on the edge of the property and would have died if Luke hadn’t known he was out there so I could bring him in before the suns could bake him alive.” She took a moment to remember his explanation for his state then, distracted by the visceral reaction both clones had to that, “He said it took him by surprise to get a visit from someone he’d never thought to see again, as it had been sixteen years with two instances of communications, both of which he’d thought he’d imagined in all that time. He hadn’t realized how long they’d been talking, catching up and clearing the air, before he’d left to check up on us and subsequently passed out. Supposedly, that friend has been on-top of making sure he eats and sleeps on a regular schedule, and he looks much better than he did at one point.”
They shared a pained look, “The Commander is never finding out about that. Ever.”
“Agreed. He’d have a conniption. If Sevens has to sedate him again for his health, Helix will kill us dead.”
“As it is, the General is already going to be sedated just so Helix can do a complete work-up to see how much worse his health has gotten.”
Then winced, “He’s going to follow through with that threat he was promising near the end of the Wars about assigning a Health Monitor to keep records of when and what he eats, how long he sleeps, if he’s properly hydrated, if he finds out that he’s gotten worse.”
Beru was now wondering how Ben had survived as long as he had, because he hadn’t come off quite that bad in all the years that she’d known him, but she could admit that she hadn’t been witness to his everyday habits of self-care and they’d been witness up close for three years during the Clone Wars; they’d know how bad he could be about that.
Considering how they just seemed to be working themselves in circles that just increased their stress, it was probably best to move off the subject, “Are you two really complaining that I’m not arguing about having you along? I imagine it’ll be useful, since I haven’t left Hutt space before and it’s been decades since Owen has, to have people along that know how to pass in Imperial space without attracting undue attention.”
They just stared for a moment.
Then Long-shot’s voice soft with awe broke the stunned quiet, “She’s being so reasonable.”
“Oh, we’re keeping her.”
“How do you feel about wearing armor patterned with gold?”
“I hope you’re not flirting with my wife!” Owen stomped back inside to lean menacingly through the doorway, trying to loom despite the fact that he was shorter than the two amused clones at his back.
She smiled at him, “Oh, hush you. They’re just happy to have met someone reasonable. Ben plays a good game of it, but I know for a fact that he’s walked around with his tunic on backwards in town and spent an hour convincing every person he met that it wasn’t. More than once. And you’re getting jealous over nothing, which isn’t. Then there is your trash-fire of a stepbrother. I’m clearly the best of all the adults in this family.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, then decided it was best to not question how Ben had managed to get his tunic on backwards, even though she knew it was totally because he’d been trolling people again just for kicks and to further build up the whole Crazy Wizard of the Wastes thing he had going on. Owen crossed his arms and looked to the side, “You’re a right Queen and I’m lucky to have you.” – a little bit of color rising in his cheeks – “You usually beat me to cutting people flirting with you off, letting the whole town know anew that I’m your husband, Owen Whitesun.”
The fact that he was a little embarrassed about his outburst was just adorable, and she kissed the tip of one finger-gun before shooting it his way.
The blush got darker.
Then crawled up to the tips of his ears when one of the clones went aww under his breathe, not so quietly.
~
Considering the clones had come out to the homestead in their Imperial armor – which stuck out like a sore thumb in Hutt territory considering the Empire only had a loose more-for-show foothold out in these parts, and would attract attention once in Imperial space – they were quick to hit a bolthole in Mos Eisley and dress in less conspicuous clothes.
Then they split up to see if they could find either a cheap spacecraft they could buy or a smuggler that could get them somewhere they could. Owen went to see if he could haggle for the former, while she went to a cantina for the latter with Crosshairs.
Once inside, after she adjusted to the dim light, her eyes were drawn right away to the Mandalorian in one corner, talking to the barkeep. His armor was green with red accents, a familiar sigil on his shoulder declaring him Fett to the galaxy.
Beru paused in her surprise at seeing a Fett Bounty Hunter on Tatooine. Realistically, she knew that if anywhere, Hutt space was where to find them since they were only just below the surviving Jedi High Council on the Empire’s Most Wanted and Hutt space would be where they were likely to find reliable work without the high risk of being taken in for the reward money.
It was still a bit of a surprise though, because there was a chance that she was looking at the rather infamous Mand’alor himself, the template of a million clones, one of the few before Order 66 that could claim to be able to kill a Force-user; even if it was unlikely.
Or she could be looking at the same Fett that had brought her half-concussed nephew home after a speeder accident a few years ago.
Crosshairs made straight for him.
The bounty hunter turned at his approach, nodding in greeting before finishing the conversation he’d been having, then leading the way to a table to the side, one that Beru followed to.
“What brings you to Tatooine, Boba?”
“A bounty and our old friend.”
“That old friend’s left, but is your bounty on-world or off-world?”
“Off-world now. Apparently, he left on the Millennium Falcon, smuggling a certain someone.”
“Would you be willing to take us with you to the nearest space-port if you’re leaving soon.”
Boba looked at her, “What for? Is she one of Cody’s, Ponds’, Wolffe’s or Rex’s?”
“I’m chasing after my rebellious nephew before he gets himself killed by an Imp.” Beru didn’t understand what he was talking about, but she had a feeling what fell under one of those names, “Who left with his uncle, my brother-in-law, Ben.”
That got her a searching look, and made her think the question had partially been a test to see if she was who he’d thought her to be, “One of Cody’s then. Where you headed, I might be able to do you one better than a space-port.”
She didn’t know exactly, but Ben had given her one location of importance, “Luke’s mother was from Naboo, that should give us a place to start looking.” It probably wasn’t even Luke’s destination, but she had a feeling that they’d have a better idea of where once they were there.