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He doesn’t say anything, but Luke can feel eyes boring into his back before Biggs says, “Old Kenobi’s watching you again.”
Luke peers over his shoulder. Sure enough, Ben Kenobi keeps a close eye on him.
Luke’s friends find the old man’s fixation with him more than a bit strange. Luke thinks it has to do with the fact he doesn’t have many people to talk to.
Old Ben used to come to the homestead when Luke was younger. The visits almost completely stopped as he grew. Still, once or twice, Luke caught Uncle Owen exchanging heated words with the old man. About what he doesn’t know, they stopped arguing when he got close.
He spots the old man while they’re out racing in Beggar’s Canyon and here at the Tosche Station; places out of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru’s sight.
Old Ben’s behavior is more curious than unsettling to Luke; if it were anyone else, it would be eerie to have someone monitoring him. (Maybe he thinks he’s further off than he is.)
The old man makes no indication of Luke’s awareness.
He shrugs it off, “He’s an old friend of the family.”
He says ‘friend’ with great tentativeness. (If Uncle Owen heard him use that word to describe Ben Kenobi…)
Camie ignores Old Ben and their side conversation entirely, raising her glass, “To Biggs. May he take whatever he learns at the Academy and use it to kick the Empire’s ass.”
Deak, Windy, and Tank all do the same.
“To the lucky bastard who’s getting off this rock,” Laze agrees.
Luke wants to toast Biggs too. A weak, “Here, here,” is all he can muster.
The group finishes their drinks and disperses. Luke hangs back; so does Biggs, though Luke would rather he didn’t.
“Owen’s not letting you apply on your next birthday, is he?”
Sullenly, “No.”
Biggs is the first of them to leave. But for the harvest, Luke was supposed to go with him. Soon enough, they’ll all be gone or have taken over their family moisture farms. Tank already has trouble getting away from Sunber homestead, even for events like this.
“If he keeps shifting sand around, you’re never going to get out of here.”
“Great. Thanks for the reminder.”
He finishes off his drink.
It’s difficult to be excited for his best friend, knowing he’s going to be stuck here without him for another season (and probably another one after that). They were supposed to apply and go to the Academy for flight training together.
But he’s left behind because his aunt and uncle can’t (won’t) let him go.
Not sure what else to say without sounding resentful, Luke gets up to leave, “Good luck to you, Biggs. I’ll see you around.”
He doesn’t really know where he’s going, not that it matters anyway.
It isn’t long after he’s left the Tosche Station before he’s overcome with the feeling of being watched once more. Looking around, Luke spots Ben Kenobi, trudging off through the sand in the opposite direction, not watching him at all.
Luke goes after him.
“Hey! Old Ben!”
The hermit raises his brow, “You know I’m not really that old, Luke Skywalker.”
“Why are you always watching me?”
“Is it wrong to take an interest in the child of old friends?”
“I think my uncle might disagree with you on that.”
“Well, you are not your uncle.” He turns to leave.
He can’t explain the sensation at all, but he is drawn to Ben. He feels as though he is supposed to speak with him.
“A long time ago you came to the homestead in the middle of a sandstorm; you said you were from ‘a long way away.’ Where exactly?”
Ben pauses for a long time before answering, “A system in the Mid Rim, called Stewjon.”
There is something not entirely truthful about his response, like he’s holding something back, but Luke doesn’t push it.
He changes the subject slightly, “How did you end up way out here?”
This time, Ben does not answer at all; he simply looks out into the wasteland. Luke tries to see what it is he sees out there too.
Only the sky catches his eye, wide and open. It’ll be night soon and thousands of stars will litter its dark expanses. He yearns for what is beyond the horizon.
Out there things are happening. The galaxy is at war. There are rebels fighting against the Empire.
Nothing ever happens here. The longer he stays, the more the galaxy will pass him by.
Luke doesn’t know how Ben came to the outskirts of Anchorhead, but the sands of time and Tatooine have played their tricks on him. It is difficult to believe the assertions he is not that old when he looks as if he has lived a dozen lives.
He must miss the world out there.
Quietly, Luke asks, “Do you think the Alliance will be able to defeat the Empire?”
“They have shown great resilience against the Empire, but resilience is not enough – not against the Emperor and his servants.”
“I want to help.”
“You’ve only known a galaxy ruled by the Empire. What makes you so certain we’re better off without it?”
As much as he hates to admit it, Ben is right. The Empire, Tatooine, the homestead – it’s the only life he’s ever known. What does he know about politics and governments? He’s just a boy from a moisture farm on a planet no one’s ever heard of.
“It’s the way Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru talk about it. Things were bad on Tatooine before, now they’re worse. The Empire keeps a tight grip on the inner rims and lets crime rule the outer rim.”
Ben mutters more to himself than to Luke, “They’ve at least instilled that.”
Ben grows more curious in Luke’s estimation.
He realizes, for all the times Ben has kept a watchful eye on him, this is the first time they’ve spoken alone. No Uncle Owen, no Aunt Beru, or Biggs, or any of the others.
He has more questions, but Ben speaks first, “It’s getting late. You should go home.”
The old man lumbers onward, not waiting for a response.
Luke makes his way home. Aunt Beru questions him about his day; she asks about town and his friends. He tells her they’re fine. He makes no mention of Ben Kenobi.
----------
Of all them, Ben dreads his visits the most. (The only of the reappearing apparitions not of his imagination.) He knows when his ghost is coming. Ben would rather listen to his conscience struggle to convince himself it’s not his fault, than heed Qui-Gon’s actual assurances and wisdom.
The air changes when he makes his appearance, at last.
In the past, Ben has preferred not to engage in conversation. He would rather shut out his old master, but tonight he does not.
“You couldn’t have found that boy instead?”
He wants the accusation to sting. He wants it to bite. He wants it to convey every last ounce of bitterness and resentment he’s held onto for the past nineteen years.
“There would be no son without the father.”
Ben scoffs, “Then perhaps it would have been better if you never came here at all.”
“The order of the galaxy was due for a change; I precipitated it. It could not have been prevented, but, like all things, change takes time, Obi-Wan.”
Ben’s irritation rises, “I’ve told you time and time again: that man doesn’t exist.”
The apparition frowns, “I would not come if you were not he.”
Ben says nothing and looks away.
“What good will Ben Kenobi be when the boy is ready to leave his aunt and uncle?”
He snaps, “Will you just leave me be?!”
Qui-Gon’s voice only grows stronger, “Can Ben Kenobi teach Luke about the Force? Does the man you pretend to be have any idea what a determined child can mean to a man who’s lost their way?”
Spitting back, “Obi-Wan Kenobi was a fool who let his attachments get the better of him! Luke is better off not learning from him!”
Serenity returns, “So, you will teach him?”
Ben is resigned to it, “There is no other way to deal with Vader.”
“You mean to instill revenge in the boy’s heart to meet this end.”
Stiffly, “Yes.”
“Then perhaps you are right: you are not Obi-Wan.”
The ghost’s mournful words weigh down on him more than the lifeless body had. But Obi-Wan is gone and no matter how much Ben wishes he could will him back for Qui-Gon, it can’t be done.
“And if the boy fails, what then will you do? Will you feed his sister the same lies?”
“If I have to.”
He hates this. He hates being so sure that this is the only way. That he will send another to succeed where he failed. If they fail, then another. He hates knowing that this has to be done.
Ben wants Qui-Gon to tell him there’s another way, to comfort him as he once did.
But the apparition is gone.
The ghosts never do as he wants them to. They stay when he orders them to go, they leave when he is ready to give in, and he is always left alone in the dark.
Tomorrow, another will be here.
Something tells him his old master will not come again.
----------
Had they taken the boy instead, Bail wonders if they would have been able to keep him concealed. If the boy takes after the father as much as Leia resembles the mother, there would have been no hiding him. If Leia looked more like the father…
He brushes the thought aside.
Colton still stands before him, awaiting a response.
“I realize now is not an ideal time to approach this subject, but I need to know and you should have told me sooner.”
“You’re right. There is no good time for this conversation,” he replies tersely.
He slams a few datapads down on the desk harder than he intends. Bail is already concerned for his daughter’s safety. He doesn’t need Colton’s suspicions adding to his paranoia.
Her term as Alderaan’s senator is barely a year old. It makes him more nervous than he cares to admit; every time she goes to Coruscant without his protection is another chance to be found out. And if anyone, even Colton, discovered the identity of her birth father – gods help them all.
His chief-of-staff is insistent, “Senator Organa, is the princess Padmé’s natural daughter or not?”
For the first time in nearly nineteen years, Colton uses her real name.
Bail’s glare is a warning, but it is not heeded.
“Sir, have I ever given you cause to doubt my loyalty? I have served you since you were a freshman senator! I have devoted my life to this system and poured my heart into the Alliance! My wife and son continue to put themselves at risk for you and for the princess!”
“You are my most trusted advisor; you do not need to lecture me on what you’ve done for Alderaan. I would never have sat in the Senate if it was not for you. The Alliance would have never been formed! That does not entitle you to every secret, especially when the secret is not my own!” Bail’s voice starts low and controlled, but carries out into the hall as he grows angrier.
“Harboring Padmé was a liability! But we did it anyway! Hiding her child is just as perilous!”
“If you are suggesting I turn out my daughter because you think she is a threat –”
“No sir! I am suggesting you tell me if she is who I think she is so I can help you protect her! Padmé was my friend too!”
Their shouting match ends there. Colton fumes; Bail is frigid.
This only works if you trust me, Bail remembers Colton telling him, sometime during their first campaign. The memory soothes him.
He has always been fortunate in who he placed his trust.
Colton is an agitator, but well-meaning. Breha was a touchstone, he is practically lost without. Padmé leant her strength when the Alliance had none.
Padmé’s daughter – Breha’s daughter – his daughter – carries all of that with her.
He will never stop fearing for her, but she is the future of the Rebel Alliance, and he cannot continue to protect her alone.
“Leia is Padmé’s daughter.”
Colton nods stiffly.
Bail holds his breath for the inevitable follow-up question.
It doesn’t come. “Does the princess know?”
“She knows Sidonie Panteer is her mother, yes.”
“You should have told me,” Colton repeats then asks another dangerous question, “If Leia’s her daughter, why did she leave?”
His mind races back to the baby he and Breha did not choose – the one Bail saw, only briefly, as they took his sister away. The boy’s crying rings in his ears; a sound his own son never made.
“You have all the information you need.”
Colton opens his mouth to argue; Bail doesn’t let him, not this time, “Just this once, back down. I assume Katei shares your suspicions; you may tell her, but you must stop asking questions.”
“Yes sir,” Colton responds; Bail is not convinced he is satisfied. It will have to suffice.
He trusts Colton completely, but knowledge of Leia’s birth is just as perilous for them as it is for her. He and Breha have done all he can to protect her from it and to prepare her for the galaxy.
He can only pray it is enough.
“Senator?”
Bail stares severely at him.
“I serve at the pleasure of Alderaan’s senator and princess. I place my faith in her, and I believe she will lead the Alliance with as much conviction as you or Padmé.”
“Thank you, Colton.”
Leia is not the only child who takes their parents’ place. Bail thinks of Ulic, of Ashla, and of all the other children his daughter grew up with.
They, the old guard, should have put an end to it. The war should not be their children’s burden, but maybe they have the confidence and the strength their parents lacked.
----------
“Princess Leia.”
She turns around at her name.
“Governor Tarkin,” Leia says, returning the greeting. “What a surprise, only it is Senator Organa now.”
(The only surprise is how long it took him to acknowledge her presence in the Senate.)
And as if there are not enough reasons to despise the man, the galaxy gives her one more; a slave follows close behind. Tarkin, like many of the Emperor’s steadfast supporters, is a proponent of slavery, but to bring one into the Senate Dome – it is a desecration.
She seethes, he is unperturbed.
“Yes, of course, but to me you will always be that charming child your father brought with him to senate proceedings.”
He tries to undermine her by mentioning her days at her father’s heels. It won’t work. He may have years of experience to her one, but she will not be thrown by the Grand Moff’s tricks.
“I see you’ve found someone you can actually put on a leash,” Leia replies coolly.
(Consequences of his retribution be damned. She will not tolerate this.)
The corner of his mouth twitches, “You should know, I expect the same level of commitment from you as I received from your predecessor.”
“The Senate will always have my support.” She finishes the thought in her head, you will not.
“Good. Because you must understand, any backsliding at all will not be tolerated by myself or the Emperor. I will not waste my time with veiled threats on you, princess. For Alderaan will find itself on a leash should you refuse to comply. A very short leash.”
“Your concern for my system’s safety has been duly noted.”
“It has been a pleasure to see you again, princess. I do hope you will remember this conversation in the future.”
How any one person could be so despicable, she will never know.
The Grand Moff strides away, his slave in tow. The poor twi’lek had simply stood there in silence, carrying his master’s datapads. Strict obedience must have been beaten into him; Leia did not see even the slightest spark in his eye when she tried to speak up for him.
She shakes off the unpleasantness of the encounter and heads for the hangar bay. Uncle Raymus will already be waiting for her.
For all the good is does them, she is a senator; coming to Coruscant only for unavoidable votes and meetings. Father thought the Imperial Senate’s control over systems was powerful before; now systems have no say whatsoever. Leia only remains for appearance’s sake and the diplomatic immunity it grants her.
She never breaks her promise to father, one night on Coruscant at a time, but she rarely goes directly home. There is plenty of work for her to do for the Alliance: allies to meet, supplies to deliver, plans to make.
Tonight she is dining with Senator Mothma. The older woman hinted toward the recovery of delicate information, but did not dare say any more.
Stepping onto the Tantive IV, she is greeted by C-3PO’s constant chatter.
On the rare occasion she has private meetings he often accompanies her as translator. (She is not as accomplished in different languages as she would like to be.) She is glad she had no use of him today; she can imagine what sort of nonsense he might have spewed in front of Tarkin.
“3PO, where is my uncle?”
“I do believe Captain Antilles is on the bridge, Princess Leia.”
She huffs, annoyed by everyone’s insistence in using her previous title.
A new course is set for Chandrila. The flight gives Leia just enough time to change and mentally switch focus from the Senate to the Alliance.
Dinner is just the two of them. Leia anticipated a few more dignitaries and counselors, but she prefers this. They speak openly.
“You must be wondering why I asked you here.”
Leia nods, “I must admit, I am curious as to the extra level of secrecy.”
Gravely, “What do you know of the Grand Moff’s clandestine super weapon?”
“Only the barest rumors. Some believe the project itself is a myth.”
“It is no myth.”
Eyes wide, “You’re certain?”
“I received an intelligence report from my contact, within the Grand Moff’s office, not two days ago affirming its existence. It is in its final stages of construction.”
“Could your source confirm the weapon’s purpose?”
Senator Mothma shakes her head, “No, child.”
Leia slumps back in her seat.
It is the first real lead they’ve had in ages, but it is not enough. Against father’s original wishes and intentions, the Alliance formed its own military. They’ve been waiting for the opportunity to strike something that really matters.
“He did, however, inform me of some other news concerning the weapon: he can gain access to the dataplans.”
The senators lock eyes and Leia sits frozen.
They don’t know what it is, they don’t know what it is capable of, but if they could get their hands on those plans they might just be able to turn this war in their favor.