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They never stayed anywhere for long, so Luke and Leia both had spacer’s accents - an indeterminate amalgam of the blandly Core-adjacent tones of their holoschool lessons and Ben’s cut-glass Coruscanti, colored in at the edges by Outer Rim spaceport slang.
The kids in Anchorhead used to tease them about it, those first few times Ben left Luke and Leia on Tatooine with their Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. The teasing was okay though, because it meant Luke and Leia were no longer counted merely as occasional, offworlder novelties and had instead become playmates. They didn’t always stay places long enough to make friends, so Tatooine was almost fun, sort of, because people knew them, remembered the games Leia made up and that Luke had a sweet tooth.
It was good to have friends when Ben was gone, because usually he was always there, at most in the next cabin over in the ship, or within shouting distance down some market road, or at the very least, reachable by turning inward, to their Force connection. Luke never much thought about it until Ben dropped him and Leia off with Owen and Beru, or with some mysterious friend on yet another backwater world, to go off on one of his even more mysterious trips.
Then, a strangeness would settle, a persistent, hollow sensation. A reminder that even the Force, always at Luke’s fingertips, the thing that bound Luke’s little family tightly together, could not entirely conquer distance.
It was always hard to predict how long Ben would be gone. Less than a week, mostly, but there had been exceptions before. Ben had been gone a whole standard month, once, the line etched between Uncle Owen’s brows seeming to deepen with the passing days.
But then a ship would emerge out of the wide desert sky, and there Ben would be.
There was always a moment, just when Ben returned, when Luke would see a man with the same eyes and beard and solidity in the Force as Luke and Leia's Ben, but who somehow stood differently. Who echoed with ghosts of himself. And Luke would realize that their Ben was not the only Ben their uncle had ever been, or maybe even was now. It made Luke shy, to see a stranger in the person who told him bedtime stories and rubbed his back when he was sick. Luke would lurk and watch from behind Beru's back while Leia barreled over to Ben, demanding hugs and answers to a dozen questions at once.
Maybe Luke hanging back had hurt Ben, but Luke can’t say for sure. He never thought about it then, probably wouldn't even be thinking of it now if Ben weren't gone (eleven standard days and counting) and Luke and Leia weren't sitting parked in a short-term rental cottage, waiting for his return.
If it had, Ben never showed it. Just smiled and beckoned Luke with a hand, waiting patiently for Luke to come over and slot in by Ben's other side, completing the circle of their little family.
This time, though, things were different. Luke and Leia were fourteen, not kids anymore, and they hadn’t been left with anyone. They’d been left in charge.
Ben had taken the ship, but left them with supplies, emergency credits, and a deadline.
“I’ll be back in three weeks,” he’d promised. “Stay here, do your lessons, look after the droids.” He’d pointed at Luke then and added, “I’ll be able to tell if you haven’t been doing your moving meditation.”
Luke had rolled his eyes – he couldn’t for the life of him understand why floating rocks while in a handstand was apparently an essential life skill, no matter how often Ben said it honed focus and was tradition besides – but Leia had just pinched Luke's arm and nodded, for Ben’s expression had grown serious.
“Remember what I’ve taught you,” Ben said, one hand on each of their shoulders. “And if you don’t hear from me by the end of week two, find a pilot and go to Alderaan. You’ll be safe there.”
It was the same plan they always discussed, of what to do if they were ever separated or an Inquisitor ever got too close – there would always be asylum waiting on Alderaan – but it had felt different. Like some expectant precipice, the cliff Luke could never help tumbling over in his dreams.
With each day that passed with no news from Ben, the prickling at the back of Luke’s neck increased. Ben was out there, the Force assured him of that much, but Luke couldn’t shake the feeling of danger. It itched just under his skin.
Luke was brewing their morning tea (a tradition Ben kept, no matter where in the galaxy they were, or what kind of tea they had access to) when Leia emerged from her warren of a room in their rented cottage in the forests of Takodana.
“It’s been fifteen standard days,” Leia announced, aloud.
Luke stared down in front of him, tracing a finger back and forth over the battered kitchen counter that had, presumably, long ago seen better days. “I know. I’ve been keeping count, too,” he pointed out.
“Well then,” Leia began. Her hands were on her hips and Luke knew what she was going to say before she said. Of course he did.
Still, because Ben would want him to at least make a gesture towards actually listening to instructions, Luke offered, "So, we're going to Alderaan." He tried to make it a statement but it was only a half-hearted attempt at being an thoughtful, obedient son, instead of what he was, which was antsy to get moving, to have more than a faint Force sense that Ben was, at least, alive somewhere in the galaxy.
Leia would do the rest.
And right on cue, she did.
“Of course we're not. We're going to go find Ben,” Leia declared.
Leia made it work to her advantage, the way they couldn’t be placed as coming from anywhere but hangar bays and the hum of engines, when they talked. Any room was equally Leia’s, when she needed it to be.
Right now, that room was a low-lit smuggler’s bar, filled with cracked leather booths and a faint, aromatic haze rising from the decorative braziers. It was the kind of place people came for illicit rendezvous, or to find someone willing to do something very stupid, for credits.
Which was what Luke and Leia were here for.
Except, Luke was realizing very, very quickly, they were noticeably too young to be here. Takodana might have had a reputation for leaving the law at the edge of the atmosphere but it was still the Mid-Rim. This was a place where business was conducted, not some dingy Tatooine watering hole kids were sent to fetch straggling relatives from. No one actually said anything when they stepped across the threshold, but Luke could feel the way they were being sized up. Like an opportunity.
Leia lifted her chin, staring back. Luke forced his shoulders out of the hunch they’ve climbed into. Closed his eyes for a split second and imagined himself as Ben, wearing a smile, the friendly wrinkles at the edges of his eyes putting people at ease.
Then he followed a half-step behind Leia as she led the way to the bar.
“We’re looking for a pilot,” Leia said to the Twi’lek barkeep. “Someone discreet.”
The barkeep ran her tongue over her teeth, just looking at them. “There’s pilots here who won’t ask questions,” she said finally, nodding toward some back tables. “But they only work for credits.”
“We’re willing to pay. So long as the price is reasonable,” Leia returned, absolutely even.
A flicker of a smirk crossed the barkeep’s face. “Well, alright, then,” she said. “Sounds like you have some business to discuss. My advice? Start with the guy over in the corner.”
Luke followed her line of sight. “The guy in the yellow cape?” he asked, immediately dubious. In his experience, guys wearing brightly colored capes tended not to do discreet. There was a reason spacers favored neutral colors, things that looked a similar shade new or worn out – being memorable wasn’t a benefit for most people, under the Empire.
“He’s trustworthy,” the barkeep answered. “Can’t say that about everyone here. His ship’s ridiculous, but it’s fast.”
Leia nodded and Luke felt her resolve set. “Fast is good,” she said, pushing away from the bar.
But then, their comms buzzed in unison. Luke felt a flutter in his throat and locked eyes with Leia. Without speaking, they both bolted out of the bar, ignoring the called-out questions following them.
Luke punched the answer button the moment they ducked into the alley by the bar. The holoimage flickered to life – and it was Ben.
“Oh, thank the Force,” Ben said, as though Luke and Leia had been the ones off on some secret dangerous mission against the Empire. “Have I caught you before you left?”
“Are you hurt?” Leia demanded in return.
“Are you coming home?” Luke added, unable to stop himself.
“No, no, I’m not hurt, just acquired a rather stubborn Inquisitor on my tail. I couldn’t risk bringing the attention to you,” Ben said, the lines between his eyebrows deep and worried. “I will be home. But – where are you two? I hope you haven’t done anything rash.”
Luke widened his eyes. “Oh no,” he said. “We were just trying to hire a pilot.”
“Like the plan,” Leia agreed.
Ben smiled, his expression turning knowing, like every time he’d ever caught them out in the middle of some scheme. “And I suppose you were looking for passage to Alderaan and not about to mount some harebrained attempt to rescue me when you didn’t know where I was?”
Luke hummed and nodded as Leia said, “Of course. We definitely weren’t planning to find the Rebellion and track you down.”
Ben huffed a laugh and rubbed a hand over one eyebrow. “Well. You know, you might have had a slightly difficult time. They don’t exactly advertise their whereabouts.”
“We would have found you,” Luke said.
“We had a plan,” Leia added. She sounded very certain, considering they had had, at best, the initial scaffolding of a plan.
“I don’t doubt it,” Ben agreed, quietly. “But perhaps I should have given you more to go on. I’ve . . . kept you apart from all of this, for your safety. So you could be children. But if you ever need help, you should know who to turn to.”
Beside Luke, Leia was practically thrumming with anticipation.
“Go find that pilot,” Ben said, “and come meet me on Alderaan anyway. There are people you should meet. There are stories I should tell you. About your father, and your mother.”
“And the Jedi?” Luke asked.
“Yes,” Ben agreed. “The Jedi, too.”