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Crash! Ben watched in despair as a whole vaporator crumpled to the ground, individual pieces bouncing on the rocky ground and spreading out from the epicenter. But, before he could turn and start arguing his case, he was lost in memory.
For a moment, the bits of metal were replaced in his vision by white armored bodies, flung carelessly away by an indifferent bomb reaching its mark. For a moment, he choked on desert dust and tasted acrid smoke instead. For a moment, screeches of hot metal turned into screams of pain and despair in his ears.
For a moment, he was on a battlefield instead of a moisture farm.
He took a deep breath – in for four, hold for seven, out for eight – and about-faced toward the growing blur of anger behind him. Owen stood there, arms crossed and eyes glaring. Several feet behind him was Beru, little Luke in her arms and a frightened look on her face. Even Luke was scared, crying silent tears and gripping his aunt’s dress.
“Owen–”
“You said it would be safe,” Owen interrupted him.
Ben snapped his mouth shut.
“You said you could teach him, that it would be safer if he was taught.” Owen flung one hand toward the destroyed vaporator. “Does that look ‘safe’ to you?”
“I never meant–”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant to happen, only what actually happened,” Owen said firmly.
The words hit him like a slug, a small, burning impact that instantly gave more pain than something that small ever should. He was surprised he didn’t physically stagger.
After another minute of waiting for Ben to say something, Owen continued. “I don’t think you should come around here anymore.”
“Owen, don’t be hasty,” Beru said, walking toward the men and bouncing Luke a little. “It was an accident.”
“We can’t afford accidents, Beru!”
She narrowed her eyes. “We can figure something out. It’s important Luke gets training, in case someone comes after him at the very least.”
Owen sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”
Beru’s forehead wrinkled with thought. “Then what did you mean?”
“He means,” Ben said tiredly, “that large actions using the Force reverberate, echoing through the galaxy to be perceived by anyone with enough Force sensitivity.” He tipped his face away, gazing at the far-off dunes to avoid looking at the Larses. “Owen and I talked about it when I first brought Luke here three years ago. If Luke does something big enough, Vader might be able to feel it, to track him here and take him.”
They stood in silence, considering what might befall the child they all loved if that happened.
“Oh,” Beru said softly. She tightened her grip on Luke. “Well, what happens if the training stops? Will that stop all…this?” She waved her hand around to encompass both the crashed machine and her crying nephew.
Ben shrugged. “There have been times where power fades without training. If we stop now, Luke could eventually become practically Force-null. The other option is that his sensitivity could grow, getting more and more uncontrollable until even being trained would not help him.” He looked at Beru, every part of his face feeling like it would fall off with the weight of his gravitas. “There’s no way of knowing which will happen to Luke, but it would be extreme either way.”
Beru and Owen looked at each other, communicating through microexpressions the way those who truly loved each other could. Ben watched them with an ache in his stomach, trying to forget every memory of doing that with–
“What if,” Beru began slowly, “we stop his training, and if he starts to lose control, then we comm you?”
Owen nodded resolutely. He walked closer to his wife and reached out to gently touch his nephew’s cheek. Luke leaned into it, his tears slowing with every minute that passed since the destruction.
Ben watched them with longing in his heart. Even now, after everything he’d lost, he was still unable to show his love to a child in his care. Whether that was due to his own misgivings or if Owen would let him in this moment, he couldn’t say.
After today, he would never know.
He cleared his throat. “I think that is the wisest course of action.” He hesitated. “Before I leave, may I have one last conversation with Luke?”
“Of course,” Beru said, reaching out to deposit Luke in Ben’s arms. She stepped back and took her husband’s hand. Tugging on it, she encouraged him to walk toward the homestead with her, giving Ben and Luke a bit of privacy.
“Luke, are you alright?” he asked quietly, bringing one hand up to gently stroke bright blond hair.
Luke sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “Yeah,” he said just as quietly. He looked up at Ben, his eyes appearing a brighter blue than ever surrounded by sparkling tears. “You okay, Unc’Obi?”
Ben smiled helplessly, always powerless against Luke’s instinctive kindness. “I’m okay. Thank you, Luke.”
Luke patted his cheek, his small hand not even stretching from Ben’s jaw to his cheekbone. “Then why’re you cryin’?”
He hadn’t noticed until Luke pointed it out, but now the lukewarm drops rolling down his face were inescapable. “I’m just a little sad,” he said. He lifted one hand to cradle Luke’s against his cheek.
“Why?”
“I have to go away for a while, and I’ll miss you, little one.”
“Miss you too, Unc’Obi!” Luke exclaimed. “But you come back, right?”
He looked at the child, this small personification of hope, this little person that had kept him going these past three years. And he didn’t want to lie, but he couldn’t see Owen and Beru calling him back unless they had no other choice. “We’ll see each other again, Luke,” he decided on. It was true, from a certain point of view. Even if it took until they were both one with the Force, they would see each other again.
Ben used his last shred of hope to wish it wouldn’t take that long.
He squeezed Luke a little tighter, then he pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. He walked over to the Larses, passing Luke into Owen’s arms when he extended them. He lingered for a moment, watching the family of three cuddle together. Owen’s and Beru’s foreheads touched, and both their eyes were pointed down at their nephew. Luke had one hand on each of their clothes, pulling them even closer so he didn’t have to decide who to snuggle. One or all of them shifted, and suddenly he couldn’t see Luke anymore.
He turned and walked away.
The journey back to his hut was a haze, like when he’d gotten a concussion in the war yet continued fighting anyway. He felt himself stagger sometimes, and he automatically reached out for a golden shoulder each time. But it was never there, so he barely caught himself and kept going.
He kept going.
Logically, it couldn’t have been more than an hour between the Larses’ homestead and his. But by the time he stumbled into his hut, his body ached like he’d actually been on campaign, and a days-long one at that. He used more momentum than anything else to propel himself toward a chair, then he collapsed into it so hard that it rocked underneath him.
An indeterminate time later, Ben regained himself. He kept his slouch and looked around the room at his simple furnishings, passing easily over cabinets and cookware, the table and the rug. Thanks to some deliberate arranging in the past, he didn’t see what he both longed for and dreaded. No, the picture was on the wall behind him, easily ignored when walking in and out of sight and mind when sitting.
And yet, he didn’t need to see it, did he? Every line, every shade was carved into his memory as if by a blade.
“We haven’t spoken in so long, dear,” he said to the empty room. “This last year has gone by in a blur, and no more than today.”
He could almost feel a hand between his shoulders, not pressing down and yet a solid weight, keeping him grounded. There would be no words, just the silent reminder of support.
“It seems everything’s gone wrong. And obviously, things have never been perfect, but sometimes the war seemed so…simple. We followed orders, and we protected our men.”
A fantasy of a chuckle, deep and warm. The war was anything but simple, General .
“No, maybe it just felt like it as long as you were with me.” He sighed. “Either way, nothing is so straightforward anymore.” He flexed the hand on the armrest. “Not even the Force,” he finished quietly.
The illusion of a hand on his back clenched its fingers.
He loosed a bitter laugh. “Ah yes, hadn’t I mentioned? It grows harder everyday to connect, to reach out. And with the events of today, should I even bother anymore?” He tightened the same hand into a fist. “It would probably be safer for both Luke and me if we forgot the Force existed entirely.”
A whisper of a sigh. General…
“What use has the Force been to me? It didn’t help me when I was fighting An… Vader . It didn’t give me anything but pain when the Jedi were slaughtered. The Force never warned me–”
The heavy weight of guilt, coming from every corner.
“Or maybe it did, and I just didn’t notice,” he continued, voice strangled by sorrow. “After all, love makes us blind. Maybe the Force tried to caution me, but my affection made me ignore it.”
I never meant to–
“It doesn’t matter what you meant to happen, only what actually happened,” he hoarsely repeated, the words already scarred on his heart. He took a deep breath – in for four, hold for seven, out for eight . “Still one question fills my day, dear. I thought I knew you so well: a loyal leader, a caring brother, a trusted friend. Yet I saw no evidence of that man in the last moments of the war.
“So my question, Cody, is ‘where’d you go?’”