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Obi-Wan came home from checking on his lone vaporator, and found Reva Sevander attempting to pet his eopie. 

Rooh was playing it cool, watching her new visitor out of the side of her eye, but her head was sticking out of her stall despite the heat of the day, and she hadn’t bitten Reva yet. For her this was practically a love declaration. Reva was closer to winning her affections than she believed. 

For a moment, Obi-Wan stood and observed Reva. 

She was wearing shades of mis-matched clothes, somewhat poorly suited for Tatooine. She had most of her braids, still, but they had lost the careful, Imperial-esque coif, dangling loosely around her head. One side of her head had been shaved, a careful lightning bolt or zig-zag cut into it. 

Obi-Wan leaned on the hunting rifle he’d brought to the Wastes for protection. “Hello there,” he said. 

Reva didn’t jump, just turned to look at him. 

She wasn’t here to kill him, at least, which was admittedly a bit of a relief. If she’d wanted to do so, she would have struck by now. 

“This beast won’t let me scratch it,” Reva said. 

“The beast is Rooh,” Obi-Wan said, coming up beside her to pet the eopie’s long snout. “Say hello, Rooh.” Rooh snorted disdainfully. “She takes a gentle touch. No one else would take her on, which I suppose is why I got her so cheap. At least no one tries to steal her while I’m in town.”

At least, not any more. There was only so much kicking and biting before word started to spread. 

Reva gave Rooh a baleful look.  

“Just go gentle. Don’t be afraid,” Obi-Wan said, taking hold of Reva’s hand and guiding it up to touch Rooh. 

Reva shied at first, whether from the touch or from the creature, but when she came into contact with Rooh’s snout, she relaxed. Obi-Wan removed his hand. 

“She’s soft,” Reva said. “She didn’t look it.” 

“All sorts of beings will surprise you,” Obi-Wan said. Reva scratched Rooh behind the peach-fuzz ears, quite gently. “Would you like to come inside, Miss Sevander?” 

Obi-Wan was sure that Bail, upon forcing Obi-Wan with an entirely fabricated finders fee for retrieving Leia, had not expected him to use the money to become rather more of a hermit than he was before. 

The money had paid for Obi-Wan to move from the cave to his current hut, and for a somewhat ancient but functional vaporator. In the cellar he had a tiny and damp garden of various roots and dark-growing vegetables. 

Obi-Wan came in and wiped his feet of sand on the mat, followed closely by Reva, who repeated the gesture somewhat uncertainly. He watched her as she surveyed the one-room hut. 

Things were bare there, admittedly not much more settled than he had been in the cave. A small kitchenette, various storage compartments and boxes, and a tiny cot which Obi-Wan sometimes used. Since hostilities had somewhat ceased between himself and the Whitsun-Larses, he had even gotten visitors once or twice, which was probably the only reason he had a table and four chairs scattered around it. 

Obi-Wan went past Reva, leaving her time to take in the space and assure herself of its safety as she prowled around the edges. “Tea?” he asked, dumping his latest haul onto the counter. 

“Mushrooms?” Reva asked, sounding amused. 

“They make surprisingly good tea,” Obi-Wan said. “They grew in the cool places beneath the vaporator. The large one, I mean.”

His personal water collector lived in the kitchen. It was, as it had been in the cave, typically enough to sustain himself completely. The industrial farming vaporator outside was used for the garden, and the excess— of that and of the vegetables— he sold in town. Or, occasionally, gave away. 

It had meant he was able to quit his job at the meat plant, which was admittedly a relief. The carrion-pickers, so they were so affectionately nicknamed in town, followed around the hunters of the sand seas. The hunters would set up base in an area with plenty of replenishable animals, usually womp-rats or other vermin. They’d clear out the nests for some weeks at a time. 

Then the carrion-pickers would be bussed in to wherever in the desert they’d set up shop, to prepare the meat and package it for sale. It was a very physical job, and a very transitory one. Some winters, simply the ride out there would take several hours. 

Obi-Wan had despised it, insomuch as he had been feeling anything in those days. 

Rooh was disconsolate at the loss of her favorite treat, secreted away each day, but she could sometimes be appeased by vaporator mushrooms. 

Regardless, now Obi-Wan had all the excuses he could need to avoid society for as long as possible, until he was forced back into town for some errand or another. He was really growing into his hermitage. 

“Sure,” Reva said, and Obi-Wan brought the teapot and two round cups over to the table. 

They both sat. Reva poured the tea as if on automatic pilot, neat, even cups for each of them and Obi-Wan first. That was custom in the Temple— the padawan poured the tea and the Master drank the first sip. Obi-Wan noticed, but said nothing. 

Now that she was here, Reva looked a little uncomfortable. She wouldn’t show such a weakness intentionally, of course, but her foot, clad in worn spacer’s boots, scuffed at the floor as she drank.

“What have you been up to, Miss Sevander?” Obi-Wan asked, taking pity on her with an easily dodgeable question. If she wanted to say why she was there, she could, and if she wasn’t ready, she could wait. 

“Since you dropped me off at the spaceport with a poncho, a couple bacta patches, and a few credits to my name?” Reva asked, with a snort. “Not much. I tried farming for a while. Didn’t suit me.”

Obi-Wan favored her with a small smile. “I can’t exactly imagine you toiling in the fields.” 

“Me either, as it turns out,” Reva said. “I wandered after that. Kind of a mercenary, guess you could say. Not too hard to make a living in this world when you’ve got nothing to hold you down and the Empire thinks you’re dead.” 

“Seems like you have been productive since that night in the desert,” Obi-Wan observed. 

“I’m not really doing anything. Just trying to survive.”

“That is, I think, more than what you were doing before,” Obi-Wan said gently. 

Reva’s foot scuffed again, and she stilled it, almost angrily. “I’ve been unsettled of late. I want to restart my ledger, clean. Not some righteous crusade,” she hastened to add. “Just a future where I don’t have to look over my shoulder at my past.” 

Obi-Wan was increasingly sure that was impossible, even as his nightmares came less and less and the galaxy seemed to forget about the Jedi with each passing year. 

“What kind of past are you talking about?”

“What do you know about how Inquisitors’ lightsabers are made?” Reva asked. 

“Admittedly, I haven’t wanted to think long about that,” Obi-Wan said. 

A smile tugged at Reva’s lip. “It’s not so ugly as you’re imagining,” she said. “Inquisitors do not even make their lightsabers. That’s why they mostly look the same. Interchangeable.”

“Ah, yes. The helicopter sabers,” Obi-Wan said. “Has anyone ever cut their own arm off with one of those?”

Reva ignored him. “The crystals come from the same source and they’re put into the same mass-produced housings. They turn red because of the way they’re harvested and the way they’re wielded.” 

Obi-Wan nodded. He sensed they were coming soon to the point, ever so roundabout. 

Neither of them mentioned exactly how the Inquisitors’ lightsabers were being wielded, how much suffering it took for a crystal to bleed, but they knew. 

“There were a lot of crystals,” Reva said. “They were harvesting them. But I don’t think they were harvesting them for us.” 

“You think the lightsabers were just a byproduct,” Obi-Wan said, frowning. 

“I think they were gathering something up for a bigger project, enough that a regular kyber crystal seems like small business,” Reva said. 

This was disquieting. “During the war, there were whispers of the Separatists seeking out large kyber crystals, large energy sources,” Obi-Wan said. “We never knew what for.” 

“I don’t either,” Reva said. “We were not trusted with important information such as that.” She gave an ironic smirk. “But I know where they’re moving kyber in and out.” 

“Wiping your slate clean?” Obi-Wan said. 

“I want to stop them,” Reva said. “We have to do… something, don’t we, Obi-Wan?” She gave Obi-Wan a nearly pleading look, as if he had the answers. He remembered that she had been very young indeed when the order hit. 

Obi-Wan had made almost a career of sticking his head in the sand over the last decade. 

But meeting Leia, encountering the little pockets of people like Tala and Roken and those who still looked up to him as a hero, still fought for democracy— there was still a flickering light of hope in the galaxy. But it needed people to nurture the flame.  

“We can do something,” Obi-Wan said. “Where would you like to start?” 

Reva’s information had them going into the NaJedha system, on a planet called Larissa. If the Empire stuck to their usual schedule, there would be another mass shipment of kyber crystals within the next week. There was no reason to think that they would have changed things around. They believed that Reva was dead after she was stabbed on Jabiim. 

To be honest, if they thought she could be alive she didn’t seem to be a high-priority target for them. He doubted they would have gone so far to change their protocols to keep her information out. 

Reva wanted to intercept the shipment. Ideally, they would find out what the kyber was being mined for, but at least they could perhaps get their hands on a shipment of kyber, out of the Empire’s grasp. 

That part of the Mid-Rim was Imperial occupied, which could prove to be a problem. 

It was needlessly risky to go. He could possibly get in contact with an ally or two and ask them to handle it. They wouldn’t know the meaning of the kyber, of course, nor have the deeper senses, but they’d pulled off their operations well enough on their own so far. But Reva needed to be involved in it. Needed it more than she knew, he thought. If he sent anyone else along in his stead, she would spook. 

And it was a Jedi matter. 

The idea of kyber out there, desecrated and used for weapons of destruction, not protection… 

Obi-Wan sighed gustily. He had already been decided. “We’ll go tomorrow. It’s too late in the day to do anything at the moment. Do you mind if I make some calls?” 

Reva gestured a hand. “Be my guest.” 

Obi-Wan smiled a little. “I think that’s my line. Make yourself at home. If it has a lock, don’t open it. Anything else is fair game. You can sleep on the cot tonight. I’ll take the meditation mat.” 

Reva gave him a doubtful look. 

“If I was going to kill you in your sleep, you’d know by now,” Obi-Wan said. 

“It’s not that,” Reva said. “Are you sure you should be taking the mat? You’re kind of… old.” 

Obi-Wan was startled out of a laugh. “I’ll just be a moment,” he said, and ducked outside. 

He walked some distance away, out of hearing range of the hut, feet moving swiftly across the sand, after so many years walking on it. 

It was getting late in the day, which meant that the interminable heat was finally dying down. He normally would have spent the time tinkering with the house or with Rooh’s stall, designed to protect her from the elements and predators both. Then, perhaps, he’d take a trip to the Lars homestead, to make sure that all was well. 

Today, he flickered on the battered, Clone Wars-era comm that he had begun keeping a little closer to hand as of late. 

As predicted, Bail Organa answered promptly. 

“Obi-Wan,” he said, emerging in a flicker of blue. “Is all well?” 

Obi-Wan pulled down his hood to talk to him, smiling. “I’m sorry for frightening you. I simply need a small favor.”

“Anything,” Bail said, and Obi-Wan gave him a wry look. It was a heavy promise, and, worst of all, Obi-Wan knew he would keep it no matter what was asked. 

“I need someone to watch over the boy for a few days. A week or two, perhaps. I’m going off-planet.” 

Bail paused. He had learned, the hard way, not to give specifics over comm, no matter how secure you believed it was. “For what purpose?” 

“A friend contacted me,” Obi-Wan said. “There’s a matter I believe needs urgent attention on Larissa. But I do not want to leave the boy alone.” 

Bail nodded thoughtfully. “I can send someone trustworthy to keep an eye on the place. Do you have transport?”

“We were going to take the public shuttles,” Obi-Wan said, and Bail was already shaking his head. 

“I’ll send a ship for you as well,” he said. When Obi-Wan went to protest, Bail smiled. “Since last we met I have made several new friends, some of which perhaps you know. You never know who you may meet along the Path.” 

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. 

“We have a presence on Larissa. There’s an Imperial outpost there that needs one eye kept on it, enough that we have a small safe house established already. I’m sure there’s someone there who can help you, whatever your mission may be.” 

“I could not possibly ask that of you,” Obi-Wan said. 

“You’re not asking, old friend,” Bail said. “I’m offering.” 

Obi-Wan shook his head, this time not so much in refusal but resignation. “You don’t even know the details.” 

“I don’t have to,” Bail said. 

Obi-Wan hid a smile by the brush of a hand over his mustache. “How is the girl?” 

Bail gave a very put-upon sigh. “A holy terror. She nearly broke her neck falling out of a tree the other day, trying to fly. I’m sure you know nothing about that.” 

“Not at all,” Obi-Wan said. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised to hear she’s still as much trouble as ever.” 

“And that’s why we love her,” Bail said, eyes visibly softening at the thought of his daughter. “I’ll send you the information. May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan.” 

“May the Force be with you.” 

Obi-Wan closed out of the comm, and looked up at the sky. It was getting late indeed. The stars were beginning to come out, the suns having been chased over the horizon a short time ago. 

His gaze came back down to earth, and he was unsurprised to find that he now had a companion. 

“You like Reva Sevander very much,” Qui-Gon said. 

“She saved Luke,” Obi-Wan told him. 

“After putting him in danger in the first place,” said Qui-Gon. Even blue and translucent, he had the same sort of irritating, smug expression from life. Oddly, it endeared him to Obi-Wan even further. He had clearly suffered some type of brain damage out here in the desert for so long. “You like that she returned from the brink.” 

“Who doesn’t like a comeback story?” Obi-Wan murmured, putting the comm away and beginning the trek back to the hut. 

“Not everyone can be saved,” Qui-Gon reminded him. 

“Not everyone wants to be saved,” Obi-Wan said. “Reva asked for help. I’m giving it. You’re reading too far into it.”

“Being dead gives you some perspective, my young padawan,” Qui-Gon said. “You feel sympathetic to the girl’s plight.” 

Obi-Wan sighed. “I had a mission to keep me focused. Even then, I was nearly lost. What does she have?” 

Qui-Gon gave him a knowing look. “I think you aren’t giving either of you enough credit. You were more yourself than you knew, even in your darkest hours. And you know well that this will not give young Reva the peace she seeks.” 

“She can figure that out on her own,” Obi-Wan said. 

Qui-Gon, walking beside him, didn’t leave any footprints in the sand, but there was almost a breeze coming from his wispy form. He said; “It’s good for you to get out of the house.”  

Obi-Wan gave him an exasperated look. “You’re one to talk about getting a life.” 

Qui-Gon laughed, sudden and booming, and then Obi-Wan was, once more, walking alone. 

When Obi-Wan returned to the dwelling, Reva was stretched out for sleep on the meditation mat, though she was not asleep. There was a blaster positioned visibly under her pillow, which didn’t offend Obi-Wan. 

She was reading one of the random holonovels he had scattered about the place. 

“Fascinating stuff,” she told him. “Ground-Metal Concentrations In Soil Samples. I’m very sorry to be pulling you away from such a life of mystery and excitement.” 

“I’m sorry they don’t compare to the holo-soaps in the Imperial barracks,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m sure those were full of adventure, romance, and propaganda.” 

“It was just several copies of Baby-Eating 101,” Reva said. 

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together at her, as if he found the joke very unamusing. She smiled. 

“We’re set to go tomorrow,” Obi-Wan told her. “My contact had sent the coordinates of a safehouse on Larissa we can use as a staging ground. You remember the Path, I’m sure.” 

“Oh, they’ll be pleased to see me,” Reva said.

“Hm,” Obi-Wan said, unwilling to disagree.

While he was gone, she had washed the teapot in the sonic and left it upside-down to air out. She was going to sleep with her boots on. 

“Good night, Miss Sevander,” Obi-Wan said. He crossed to the opposite side of the room, to his own bed. On the way, he flipped the lights; already minimal because of the abundance of natural light during the day, completely off. 

“Good night, Obi-Wan,” Reva said, very quiet in the darkness. 

The day dawned early, and Obi-Wan arose even earlier to complete the necessary chores before leaving the house for a period of time. He was funneling the water from the vaporator when Reva found him, still wrapped in a blanket and giving him a curious look. 

“What are you doing?” she said. 

“Collecting water,” Obi-Wan said. “It’ll keep until I return.” 

“Seems like a wasted effort,” Reva said. “They were selling water in town. I saw it.”

Obi-Wan tried not to give her a pitying look. “The water farmers are all taxed by the Empire,” Obi-Wan said. “If you are not capable of collecting your own, you have to pay prices marked up by forty percent or more.” 

Reva craned her neck up to look at the tall spire of the vaporator. “Oh,” she said. “If you can’t pay—?” 

“You die,” Obi-Wan said. “The Empire doesn’t care.” 

“I already know that,” Reva said hotly, spinning around rapidly enough that her braids whipped through the air, and she went back to the house. 

Obi-Wan sighed to himself, and finished up the rest of his tasks. 

When he returned, Reva was out with Rooh, trying to tempt her into letting her pet her once more, so Obi-Wan went past her alone into the hut. 

He didn’t have much that he needed to pack, just a small rucksack that he picked up now. He hesitated at the old wooden chest. 

“You should bring your lightsaber,” Qui-Gon said, appearing beside him. 

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “It’s funny. I don’t remember asking you.” 

“You should have it with you,” Qui-Gon told him. 

“I can decide that for myself, thank you very much,” Obi-Wan said. He had never reburied the lightsabers— either of them— after he’d unearthed them from the desert. Perhaps he had never really buried them away at all, for he knew exactly where they were, no matter how much the sand might shift or the terrain change. 

Qui-Gon made a disapproving noise from beside him. Obi-Wan crouched down to put a hand on the lid of the chest. 

Obi-Wan’s master kneeled down beside him. “Sometimes I think I had the softer path,” he told Obi-Wan. “Compared to you, and Reva, and young Anakin. Death is, perhaps, the easy part.” 

“Only you would be stubborn enough to come back after,” Obi-Wan said. The box had warmed under his fingertips. 

“You accomplished things I would never have been able to,” Qui-Gon said. “Things would not have been better if I had trained the boy. Different, only. You know this. You lived your life while all I could do was watch. Your path, Obi-Wan, is yours alone.” 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Then he opened them. He unlocked the box and took the lightsaber. 

Outside, Reva was petting Rooh while the eopie nosed around her fingers, hoping for a treat. 

“I hope you don’t mind an errand first,” Obi-Wan said. 

“If it means I don’t have to ride public transport with a yowling baby again, I don’t mind any sort of delay,” Reva said. 

Rooh, apparently cemented in her friendship now, allowed both Reva and Obi-Wan to climb onto her back. She stood up, the lurching, double-jointed movements of her legs startling Reva for a moment before she leaned back and played it cool. 

They set out across the sand, mostly unspeaking. 

They passed through the Wastes, across the duned desert. Reva didn’t ask where they were going— Obi-Wan wondered if she knew, or if she was simply uncurious. 

Regardless, when they finally reached the destination, Obi-Wan pulled Rooh to a stop some way away in the shelter of a rock overhang. He slid from the beast’s back and Reva did the same, boots hardly impacting with the ground as she moved with leonine surety. 

“Perhaps I could prevail upon you to keep an eye on Rooh for a moment,” Obi-Wan said. 

“I think that would be best.” Reva looked out at the little homestead with an odd expression on her face. “I think if the aunt got a second shot at me, she would take it.”

That sounded like Beru. 

Obi-Wan left her and trekked across the sand once more, towards the Lars home. 

He hadn’t bothered to be careful of the perimeter alarms, so Owen was already waiting for him outside, arms folded, when he arrived. 

“Ben,” he said, eyeing him, clearly wondering if another red-lightsabered killer was going to be coming after them. 

“Owen,” Obi-Wan said, with a polite bow. 

Beru was next out. She was wiping her hands on her skirts, and she came up beside her husband. “Hello,” she said. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Obi-Wan gave a bare smile. “And you won’t for a while yet. I’m going to be leaving again.” At the alarm in their eyes, he added; “Not quite the same as before. And someone will be coming to keep an eye on you. You can trust them.” He didn’t know that, not for certain, but if Bail said so, it was as good as true. 

“Who?” Owen grunted. 

“A friend,” Obi-Wan said. “They’ll come check on you. Password is ‘japoor’, so you’ll know they’re with you.”

Beru frowned, still seemingly concerned, but anything she may have been about to say was cut off by a streak of blonde hair and enthusiasm. 

“Aunt Beruuuu! Uncle Oween! Why didn’t you tell me that Ben was here?” Luke Skywalker collided with Obi-Wan’s legs, giving a cheerful hug before pulling back to crane his neck and look at Obi-Wan. “Did you bring me something?”

“Luke,” Owen chided, though his voice was less gruff than usual. “That isn’t polite.” 

“Oh, Luke said. “Sorry, Ben. Nice to see you. How are you? Did you bring me anything?” 

Beru huffed, amused and exasperated. 

“If your aunt and uncle say it’s all right,” Obi-Wan said. He retrieved a small toy starfighter from his bag. The corner was chipped off and it had been repainted somewhat un-neatly, but Luke beamed like the sun when he saw it. 

“Oh, wow, wizard! Thank you, Ben!” 

He snatched the ship and took off to play with it. At the last moment, he remembered his manners once more and skidded back to give Obi-Wan another hug around the legs, then he darted off again. 

“That boy is going to be the death of me,” Owen grumbled. 

The three adults watched Luke play in the shadows of one of the vaporators, clearly having some sort of adventure that involved a lot of mid-air shooting and running. 

“How is he?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“He’s fine,” Owen said. 

“He doesn’t remember much of that night,” Beru said. “I think he remembers it as a dream.” 

“Dreams pass in time,” Obi-Wan murmured. 

“Yes,” Beru said. “Someday I think he’ll hardly remember it at all. Now he talks about it as… he said he was dreaming of a storm chasing him. He dreamed of a woman running through the desert after him. In his dreams, she was crying. Isn’t it strange that he remembers her crying?” 

Perhaps. Perhaps not. There were things that one could see in the Force that they could not see with their two eyes. 

“Luke is a strong boy,” Obi-Wan said, folding his hands inside his sleeves. “He will be fine.” 

Owen grunted. “Make sure that you come back fine too. Luke would be very unhappy if you stopped visiting. Wouldn’t hear the end of it for days.” 

“I’ll remember that,” Obi-Wan said, covertly pleased. He nodded his head once more. “Good luck. I will return soon.” 

“You’d better,” Beru said, and came forward to kiss him on the cheek. 

Obi-Wan, surprised and flustered by the action, bowed quickly and made his escape. He looked back— Luke waved goodbye. Obi-Wan returned the gesture. 

Reva rested in the cover of the sand cavern, drinking the milk of one of the black melons from Rooh’s saddlebags. The melons were known for their hydrating properties, not their gourmet offerings, but Reva didn’t complain about the taste. Instead, she tossed the shell aside and stood. “Ready at last?” she asked. 

“I’m ready,” Obi-Wan said. 

Obi-Wan had known that Bail would probably send their contact to the coordinates of his old dwelling, the cave. He didn’t mind. The less activity around his home in the Jundland Wastes, the better. 

They saw the ship first, landed and looming a stark black against the sandy background, then they heard the sound of arguing. As they came into view, Reva leaned up to speak into Obi-Wan’s ear. She sounded amused. 

“I think I’d better stay and keep an eye on the beast once again,” she said. 

“That would probably be best,” Obi-Wan said, and patted Rooh, who kneeled down to allow for Obi-Wan’s descent. 

He approached the pair, now two familiar figures. 

“It’s not for sale!” the man said, gesturing expansively. “Do you see a For Sale sign? No! I just got off it! Why would I be selling it!” 

The smaller figure said something. 

“Stealing it?! That’s even worse. You get why that’s worse, right?”  

Haja Estree was a brown-skinned man, dressed in clothes unsuitable for Tatooine’s extreme heat. He had at least ditched the knockoff Jedi garb, though there was something suspiciously robe-like about the brown tunic he wore. He was bent nearly double to talk to his companion. 

Obi-Wan approached. “I’m sorry, Teeka,” he said. “I’m afraid my friend is not quite aware of our customs.”

Teeka turned to look at him, eyes shining in her hood. She was the lone Jawa who had not been afraid to deal with the crazy old wizard in the Wastes. 

“Ben!” Haja said. “Thank the star gods. Will you tell this— person— that they cannot have my ship?” 

Teeka, of course, ignored that thread of conversation and chattered angrily at Obi-Wan in Jawaese. 

“You did not think I was dead,” Obi-Wan said, rolling his eyes. “You were just too lazy to make the trek across the Dune Sea.” 

Teeka made a noise of offense and swung her staff irately in his direction, making Haja shy away. 

“All right, I’m sorry for calling you lazy,” Obi-Wan said, with a chuckle, as she continued to berate him in Jawaese. “Yes, I could have come to visit you.” 

Teeka had recently started seeing a woman in town, a mechanic who’d recently opened up a ship and repair shop in Mos Eisley. That was a match Obi-Wan didn’t want to think too hard of the specifics. If there was anything worse than crossing the Wastes, it was going into Mos Eisley. 

Teeka told him that he looked too skinny and his hair seemed greyer than when she’d last seen him. 

“Thank you, Teeka,” Obi-Wan said. “But you can move on. As I said, this is a friend of mine.” He produced a credit chit as if by magic from his sleeve, and gave it to her. 

“Really?” Haja said, nearly blushing. “Friends?” 

The Jawa took the credit and peered at it suspiciously. She huffed, then threw up her hands and turned to go, back to the rickety speeder bike she sometimes used to get around.

“Thank you!” Obi-Wan called after her retreating back. 

Haja turned to Obi-Wan, and, to his surprise, gave him a hug. 

Obi-Wan patted Haja’s back once, awkwardly, and Haja cleared his throat and shuffled back. “Sorry, Ben. It’s good to see you. May I say that I am completely honored by this mission?” 

Well, Bail had said that he was sending someone they could trust. Haja had, in his way, saved the lives of both Obi-Wan and Leia, and he had taken the final trip to Alderaan with Leia. He’d protected her, which counted for quite a lot for Bail, and Obi-Wan too. 

“It’s probably not as exciting as you think,” Obi-Wan told him. 

“I’ve spent my time with exciting,” Haja said. “Sometimes the boring stuff is important too.” 

Obi-Wan smiled. “Thank you for coming.” 

“Oh, yeah, totally,” Haja said, and he gestured behind himself. “Ship’s all yours. Take as long as you need.”

“I’m glad you stayed on the Path,” Obi-Wan said. “This job here— it may not feel important, but it is. The galaxy… the galaxy shifts around Tatooine. I know that I have no right to ask this of you, but the boy, the family that you are here to protect? I would ask that you do all you can for them.”

“I’ll protect them with my life,” Haja said, straightening his back to its full height. 

“You have the coordinates of the homestead?” Obi-Wan asked. Haja nodded. “Good. You can stay at my hut. It’s a little way into the Wastes. My eopie knows the way.” 

He looked back to make sure Reva had taken her leave of the eopie also, and whistled Rooh over. She came loping up obediently. 

“Rooh will take you,” Obi-Wan said, taking hold of her lead. 

“Oh,” Haja said. “Nice…” He eyed Rooh warily. 

“You’ll be fine,” Obi-Wan said. 

He waved a hand, and Reva came over also, cloak pulled over her head. She went straight for the open gangway of the ship, passing them completely. 

“Oh, hello, miss— oh, okay,” Haja said, as he was ignored.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said. “That’s about as polite as she gets, I’m afraid.” He turned to Rooh, and petted along her snout. “I’ll be back shortly. Be good.” She snorted, as if offended by the implications of that. 

He turned back to Haja, and took his hand to place on Rooh’s side— she would know, no matter how fussy she would be about it, that Haja was her new rider for a while. 

“Thank you, Haja,” Obi-Wan said. “This means a great deal. May the Force be with you.” 

Haja beamed, as if it was a true benediction, not a relic of a time long past. “May the Force be with you… Master Kenobi.” 

Obi-Wan went to join Reva on the ship, to set out, once more, away from Tatooine. Who knew if they were going towards something good. 

Behind him, he heard Haja say; “Hello, girl! Oh, ow! No don’t bite—!” 

The hatch whooshed shut. 

Reva was already in the cockpit. “Let’s go,” she said. 

Reva attempted to give the con over, but Obi-Wan waved her away. “I never caught the enjoyment for flying,” Obi-Wan said. “You seem to be doing a fine job as it is.”

They had to move through atmosphere and into one of the hyperlanes before going into hyperspace. One could move in and out of Tatooine more or less undisturbed; no one was checking who was entering or leaving the planet mostly because everyone had something to hide. But once you got to actually travelling, you had to stick to the established routes. 

It wouldn’t take them over-long to get to Larissa, but that still left several hours on a ship with a woman who had tried to, essentially, murder Obi-Wan on several occasions. 

Well. It wasn’t the worst company he’d ever had. 

“Going into hyperspace now,” Reva said, and punched the throttle forward. They lurched, and then there was the familiar feeling of not-quite-real time. 

It was still not a little odd to be in the climate-controlled enclosure of a ship, away from the relentless warmth of Tatooine. Space was, after all, quite cold. 

Obi-Wan was content enough to sit there in silence, staring out the viewscreen and half meditating. But it was Reva who spoke first. 

“Why do you still care for him?” she asked. The stars streaked by. 

“Haja?” 

She slotted him an annoyed look, as if he were being ridiculous. “The boy. The… Skywalker boy.” 

“He is not his father,” Obi-Wan said. 

Reva huffed. “His father killed everything that you hold dear. Yet still you protect him.” 

Obi-Wan remembered I am not your failure, Obi-Wan. You didn't kill Anakin Skywalker, I did, and thought that this was perhaps more true than even Reva Sevander knew. 

“Luke has done nothing,” Obi-Wan said. “And you know that— you spared him, that night.” 

Reva stared out, jaw clenched. Her anger was icy and cold. “I was weak.” 

“I found it exceptionally brave,” Obi-Wan said. She looked to him in surprise. 

“Inquisitors are taught to kill without remorse or fear,” Reva said. “I hesitated. All that fury I had held onto for so many years escaped me. Darth Vader deserved to suffer. I didn’t give him that.” 

He tried not to look at her with sympathy. “It’s easier to slip into the darkness. It’s the path of least resistance. You hold onto all your rage and your fears and you stoke that fire. It’s easier than letting it burn out— if you lose it, you’re afraid there will be nothing else left. It feels better. Simpler. How can you face life as it is and choose to make it better? It’s so hard, Reva.” 

He closed his eyes. “You chose to walk away. Towards the light. I think that was very strong indeed. There are not many who can do that, and I know from experience.” 

Reva had a tight hold of her Force presence. Of course she did— it was necessary in this galaxy simply if you wanted to survive, being what they were. He didn’t know what she was feeling. 

“You know,” Reva said, “You have a very optimistic way of looking at the world.” 

Obi-Wan laughed, a little bitterly. “You know, you are the first to say so in a very long time.”

“One could say it makes you naive.” 

“I’m taking it as a compliment,” Obi-Wan said. “If we don’t fight for good, we are lost.” 

“When we met, were you lost?” Reva sounded very small. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “I found my hope. It is up to you to find yours.” 

Imperial checkpoints were always a pain. Larissa did not have a large Imperial presence, but it did have the way-station base, which meant that they still needed to be very cautious. Haja, or whoever along the Path had set up the ship, had provided them with a standard Imperial ship code; merchants, the kind you might find anywhere in the galaxy. 

They landed, and with no small amount of trepidation departed the ship. There was no force of stormtroopers or Inquisitors awaiting them. Instead, it was a small human man with a clipboard. 

“Welcome to Larissa,” he said, polished Imperial symbol shining. He must have been the dockmaster.  “State your purpose here.” 

“It’s on the manifest,” Obi-Wan said, keeping his head tilted down under his cloak. Not too long ago, there had been a sizeable manhunt for Obi-Wan Kenobi, and he wanted to keep anonymity. 

“Oh, right, right,” the dockmaster said. “Merchants. Selling…?” 

“Jewelry,” Reva said dryly. “It’s beautiful. Want some?” 

“No, no,” he said. “It’s just that you’re merchants. You must be loaded.” 

“No,” Reva said. 

“I can’t guarantee something won’t happen to such a nice ship,” the dockmaster said. “It might take extra manpower.” 

Their borrowed ship was, at best, mid-range, designed specifically so that they didn’t draw undue attention from any quarter.

Reva stepped forward. 

“Thank you for the consideration,” Obi-Wan said, and reached into his bag. He produced a thin stack of credits, then passed them over. “For your helpfulness.” 

The harbormaster hefted them in his hand. “A little light…” 

Reva lifted a lip and snarled. “I would advise you not to be greedy,” she said. “Take the bribe and go.”

“Fine!” he said. “Fine. Have a good day.” He saluted them ironically with the clipboard, and walked away. 

“Let’s go,” Obi-Wan said. He made to take Reva’s arm, thought better of it, and instead stepped behind her so he could herd her forward. 

She went, easily enough, but she turned to hiss at him. “You shouldn’t have indulged him.” 

“Miss Sevander,” Obi-Wan said. “You’ve been out from the Empire’s thumb for long enough. You’re smart. You know that sometimes, letting things like this go is the only way to stay safe.” 

“It shouldn’t be like that,” Reva said. “The Empire should not be like this.” 

“And that’s why you left,” Obi-Wan said. “Perhaps others will do the same.” 

They stepped out from the hangar, into Larissa itself. 

Larissa looked much like any other Mid-Rim world. It did not have the glittering luxury of Coruscant, nor the squalid abandonment of Tatooine. The streets here were so numerous and so narrow that it seemed the Empire had, for the moment, given up on securing all of them. There would probably be a nicer and more secured area where the Empire had set up shop, but, for now, Larissa seemed mostly free to go about its own business. 

“What do you think?” Obi-Wan said. 

“I’ve never been here personally,” Reva said. “But I sometimes observed pickup of the crystals on Coruscant. They’ll only be here for a quick stop. Won’t be here for more than three or so days. If it hasn’t arrived yet, it should within the day.” She, like him, kept her hood up for the walk. “We need to check out the Imperial Center on this planet. But it may be better to wait until your contact with the Path gets here.” 

“You think they can help?”

“Perhaps they know more about this planet than we do,” Reva said. “They might even be inside the Empire already— wasn’t that the case with your other rebel friend? The one with the droid?” 

“Tala,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “Yes.” 

“There were other traitors within the Empire before. They were always caught and taken care of quietly. But I don’t know how many weren’t caught.”

That was, actually, an encouraging thought. 

“You’re right. Whoever the Path sent may be able to shed some light on the situation, before we go and get ourselves in trouble,” Obi-Wan said. “Though, of course, that’s probably inevitable.” 

“Mm,” Reva said, but it sounded like she agreed with him. 

Bail had given coordinates to the safehouse. They ducked through the city, keeping to the edges. Reva walked well in the shadows, keeping her head down and her presence quiet, despite her usually imposing walk and confident stride. 

The safehouse was a simple dwelling within a block of other similar one-stories, connected apartment-like in one of the residential districts. It didn’t seem like the neighbors would take much notice of them, the kind of place where everyone kept their heads down. 

There was a small keypad by the door, and Obi-Wan input the code before moving to the side to gesture an arm. “Ladies first?” 

“Age before beauty, old man,” Reva said. 

Obi-Wan shook his head, but he drew his blaster and crept quietly into the house. Reva was behind him; silently, they peeled off in opposite directions to get the scope of the space. 

They had come into a living room attached to a kitchen. When Obi-Wan went right, he found a room with two bunks attached to either wall and a tiny closet with the doors already open and empty.

He came out and found Reva putting her blaster away also. “Fresher,” she said. 

“Bedroom,” Obi-Wan said. 

“Your friends set us up with a nice place,” Reva said. “Do you know who’s meeting us?” 

“No,” Obi-Wan said. “Could be any member of the organization. The Path is, I think, more expansive than either you or I know.”

“Wishful thinking?” Reva asked. 

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan said.

He and Reva were still, functionally, strangers. There was a little dejarik table in the corner and an out of date holo-screen on one wall, but it didn’t seem like the time for relaxing together. Instead they split off to amuse themselves, dropping their belongings in the little bedroom. Neither, of course, bothered to unpack. 

Whatever insurrectionists set up this safe house, they had done a fine job, decorated barely but full of the amenities one would need to hole up for some time. If anyone had ever stayed there, they’d left it neat and clean and ready for the next people. Obi-Wan poked around in the kitchen while Reva aimlessly searched the cabinets built into the walls. 

Plenty of field rations, some of which— Obi-Wan examined them— were the type they used to give out to the men, in the war, to account for their increased metabolic rates. Others looked as if they were probably older than Obi-Wan, and would last probably long after him as well. There were water purifying tablets as well as food capsules. 

Reva whistled, crouching over one of the lower cabinets. Obi-Wan craned his neck to look at her, and she moved aside. It revealed a rather impressive cache of blasters, apparently hidden within a secondary sliding door within the first. 

“Impressive,” Obi-Wan observed. “Hopefully we don’t have to use it.” 

“It’s better to know that we can defend ourselves if need be,” Reva said, closing the secret compartment then the main one. She stood and dusted her hands off on her pants. “I suppose your rebels aren’t too soft-hearted after all.” 

A chime at the door. Obi-Wan checked the chrono. It was probably their contact with the Path. Reva was closer to the door, but she let Obi-Wan be the one to go up and answer it, staying a few healthy feet away while he palmed the door open. 

It opened. 

Obi-Wan stumbled back a step. 

Reva snarled, “You.” 

With the Force, she yanked the visitor inside by the throat, pinning him and slamming him to the wall. Obi-Wan slapped the door button closed and drew his blaster with the other hand. 

It had taken him a long time, but it was very nearly no longer his first instinct to draw the lightsaber first. Today it was difficult not to reach for his lightsaber— the door had opened onto the past. 

Reva said, nearly hissing; “Clone.” 

The clone was wearing a nondescript spacer’s jacket, a scarf wound around his head but pulled down from his face, and a standard DC-15 blaster in a holster. He also had a scar curling around his eye. 

The— clone— wheezed. “General?” he asked, staring. 

“Cody,” Obi-Wan said quietly. 

Reva’s outstretched hand clenched. 

“Mirrorbright!” Cody said hurriedly, a little choked. “Mirrorbright!”

Obi-Wan blinked. “That’s the code word,” he told Reva, puzzled. 

“I don’t care,” Reva said. 

“Miss Sevander,” Obi-Wan said sharply. “You’re going to kill him.” 

Reva raised an eyebrow at him, obviously wondering why that was a problem, but she released her hand and Cody, who had started to slide upwards, landed on his feet. But she kept him pressed invisibly against the wall, which Obi-Wan honestly didn’t mind. 

Obi-Wan put the blaster away, still in easy reach. “What are you doing here?” he said. 

Cody had been one of Obi-Wan’s most trusted in the Clone Wars. His— and the rest of the men’s— betrayal had been almost as much a surprise as Vader’s. That moment in the Force, his lightsaber falling, Boga, the 212th suddenly turning to him instead of the droids… Obi-Wan had not forgotten it. He still didn’t know why they had betrayed him. The Jedi had gotten too distracted in those days. 

Grimacing, Cody tried to push off the wall, but Reva gave him a dark look and he settled back against Reva’s Force-push. “I’m an agent with the Path,” he said. “They said that there was a high-priority ally here who needed help. I didn’t know it was you.” 

“I find that difficult to believe,” Obi-Wan said. 

“I didn’t know you were alive,” Cody said, slightly desperately. “I swear. They didn’t say that the contacts were going to be Jedi— I would’ve— I know Jedi won’t trust me.” 

“You know this one,” Reva said coolly. 

“You asked me where I was while the Temple burned,” Obi-Wan said. “He was shooting me off a cliff.” 

Cody flinched. 

“Is this a trap?” Reva asked, half to Obi-Wan and half to Cody. 

“No,” Cody said. “Sir, it’s not.” 

There was no sense of danger to the Force, no more than the usual sense of pervasive darkness, now the Empire had taken over. But there also had been no sense of danger before when everything had gone so wrong. Cody was looking at him. 

Obi-Wan said; “People change, Reva.” 

“Do they?” Reva said. 

“People change,” Obi-Wan said, a little more firmly. She knew that very well, of course, which was why he didn’t say that. Certainly she remembered the clones striking down her friends in the Temple. Perhaps she also remembered killing Nari, or however many civilians she had slaughtered herself. 

Reva huffed angrily. She let Cody go. 

“If you twitch wrong, I kill you,” Reva told him. 

Cody nodded. “Understood.” 

“What are you doing here?” Obi-Wan asked again. Cody gave him a questioning look. 

“Working against the Empire,” Reva said. “Why?” 

“Rex got me out,” Cody said. “You— well, I guess you probably already know a lot of this, if you’re with the Path too.” 

Obi-Wan did not know so much as everyone seemed to assume, having been more or less out of the game for the last ten years. But though he was tentatively sliding towards trusting Cody, he wasn’t stupid. He did not give up the fact that he was not the Jedi he used to be. 

“Rex got out at the beginning,” Cody said. “He met up with the Bad Batch, if you remember them. His work led him to the Path, and he led me. He’s been going around, helping those of us he can. Getting brothers out. Running missions. I think technically he outranks me now.” 

That did not explain why Cody had decided to defect from the Empire, nor why so many of his brothers had done the same thing. But did Cody owe him an explanation? He wasn’t sure. Certainly he had never asked Reva her exact reasoning for her own split with the Empire. 

Obi-Wan sighed, and ran a hand down his face. “This certainly complicates things.” 

Reva snorted. “No kidding.” 

Cody said; “Isn’t it always?” 

At least he had the grace to look a little sheepish after. 

They sat at the crowded kitchen table, Obi-Wan and Reva on one side and Cody on the other. They had Cody sit to his back to the door, and Obi-Wan conceded the outer edge of the booth to Reva. 

“What do you know about a recent Imperial shipment?” asked Reva, getting right to the point. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Cody said. 

“It’s recurring,” Obi-Wan said. “Non-living. Once every few months, possibly slightly more heavily guarded than usual.”

Cody frowned. “I’ve been here for a little while, keeping an eye on what’s going in and out. There are a couple of shipments that could fit that description. A lot goes in and out here— that’s pretty much all they use the base for. A waystation. Specifics?”

“We’d feel it,” Reva said. “If we got close enough.”

Cody slotted them a curious look, but apparently decided that now wasn’t the time to push for answers. “Well, I can review the logs. We’ve got quite a few.”

“It’s a good point,” Obi-Wan said, “Why do the Path have you stationed here?” 

“Mostly it’s goods that go in and out. Sometimes it’s brothers. Little waystations like this, it’s easier to take clones out, and sometimes put new ones back in their place.” Cody gave a slightly self-deprecating smile. “No one looks twice at the clones. We get a lot of good intel this way.” 

How many clones were outside the Empire’s control? How did the Path know which of them would be willing to fight for them? Perhaps this, also, wasn’t a question for the moment. 

“The time will be soon,” Reva said. “The Empire is nothing if not… efficient.” Her lip curled a little at the words. 

“I’ll check the files,” Cody promised. “I assume you want to look at the Imperial Center.”

“We’d better,” Obi-Wan said, glancing at Reva. She nodded grimly back at him. “I hope I don’t have to say that it’s better for us to stay out of sight.” 

“My face isn’t exactly unrecognizable either,” Cody said, with a kind of grim humor. “Well, come on, then. You’re gonna love it. They’ve really made this town beautiful.” 

Here, in the Imperial Center, the Empire’s cold touch was suddenly all too visible. They had apparently co-opted some sort of local structure to become their base— a library, Obi-Wan realized with a kind of distant sadness— stripped out most of the architecture and hung huge Imperial banners. This close too they had ripped up most of the shade trees from the sidewalks, and the little mossy plants that seemed to grow in the shadows of the cramped alleys. 

They stood a healthy distance across the street, watching it. 

“They would take deliveries in and out of the front entrance,” Reva said. “They don’t care for subtlety. It will be well-guarded at that point, though. An excuse to kick some of the locals around.”

“That’s correct,” Cody said. He had stopped off for a small datapad, and he scrolled through it now. “The last delivery was last week,” he added. “I don’t know what— from the size and the cooling unit, we guessed rations.” 

“Shouldn’t need a cooling unit,” Obi-Wan said distantly, staring at the Imperial building. He had spent so long hiding on Tatooine, staying secret and staying safe. In the meantime the Sith’s evil had spread so much. 

“That narrows it down to about a billion things in the galaxy,” Cody muttered, tapping on the datapad. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. 

Low-level suffering, everywhere. From small bureaucratic troubles to worries about enough food for the week, the Empire had certainly arrived on Larissa. Even the Imperials themselves shone dully in the Force, flattened out and anyone with a touch of good in them likely wiped out early on. 

“The shipment’s not there,” Obi-Wan said. He opened his eyes. 

Reva too had gone distant and fuzzy in the Force. “No, it isn’t. Then it will be here soon. We have a better chance at intercepting it on the way in than if it had already been inside.” 

Cody pulled his scarf closer over his mouth. “A full out assault on an Imperial stronghold?” he asked. “No offense, sir, but this isn’t exactly the old days. Pretty much what we have here is what we’ve got. No backup. No army.” 

Reva shot him a nasty look. “I don’t think having more clones around would help things.” 

Cody gave her an annoyed glance back, but there was a spike of hurt in the Force. 

“We can’t attract attention,” Obi-Wan said. “Let’s go.” They continued to glare at each other, and Obi-Wan, intentionally or not, put on his General voice. “Let’s go.” 

They followed him back into the twisted alleys, but begrudgingly, and, once they were far enough away that notice was not suicidal, only stupid, Cody turned to Reva. “What’s the problem?” 

“I wonder,” Reva said. 

Cody scowled, pulling the scarf away from his head, revealing his face— all too familiar— and his hair, longer and curlier than Obi-Wan had ever seen it. “I thought Jedi were big into forgiving,” he said. 

“Stop it,” Obi-Wan said. 

“I am not a Jedi,” Reva said dangerously. 

Cody looked to Obi-Wan. “If your padawan has a problem with me—” 

Obi-Wan startled backwards, and Reva jolted forward, grabbing Cody by the collar; physically, this time, and shoving him against a signpost. 

Cody seemed more surprised by Obi-Wan’s flinch than Reva’s outburst. Cody could have reached the blaster still at his side, but he didn’t. 

“I am not a Jedi,” Reva said. “I was a child. What’s your excuse?” 

Cody scoffed. Reva shook him. Cody opened his mouth again, spitefully, and blinked. “Hold on,” he said. “You don’t know?” 

“Know what?” Obi-Wan asked warily. This mission was turning out to have simply too many surprises. It wasn’t good for his old heart. 

“Order 66,” Cody said. “Good soldiers follow orders.” 

“What are you talking about?” Obi-Wan asked. He looked to Reva, but she didn’t seem to know the Imperial-sounding code either.

“Oh, Force,” Cody said, bringing a hand up to rub his temple as Reva let go of him. “I really thought you knew. Why— Listen, it wasn’t us.”

“What wasn’t?” Reva said. 

“Operation Knightfall,” Cody said. 

That one, Obi-Wan knew. He still, on occasion, smelled the Temple burning in his dreams, and, worse, the scent of a great deal of deadly lightsaber wounds, Jedi and clones alike. The Jedi had defended themselves that day, to great loss.

“Do you remember Tup?” 

Obi-Wan felt his forehead crinkle. “The clone who killed a… Jedi… Cody, what are you saying?”

“It wasn’t an accident, and it wasn’t a breakdown,” Cody said. “It was a chip, implanted by the Kaminoans and ordered by the Sith. When it went off, at the end of the war— well, we became like Tup. Nothing left of us. Fives almost figured it out.”

“The Senate told us Fives wanted revenge for Tup’s death,” Obi-Wan said, rocked. “That he was having paranoid delusions after Tup betrayed us—” Well, hindsight was twenty-twenty. “We never thought to dispute the Senate’s findings, in those days.” 

Cody gave a rueful look and pushed his hair aside, showing a new, neat scar at his temple. 

The Force was building. 

“You’re telling me,” Reva said lowly, “That the Emperor took the clone’s minds and used them to kill the Jedi?” 

“Yes,” Cody said, and the Force rang with truth. 

Reva shouted, “Damn it!” And she kicked the wall hard, the loose bricks and trash on both sides of the alley starting to rattle. She pointed at Cody, and stalked away. 

When she was fully out of sight, apparently not intending on coming back for a while, Obi-Wan turned to Cody. 

He worked out what to say for a moment. 

“I am truly sorry for everything you’ve been through,” he said. “Do you want to get a drink?” 

“Kriff yes.” 

Obi-Wan let Cody pick the bar, as he would better know what places would be sympathetic to their cause and which places it wasn’t exactly smart to let your guard down in. They ended up in a hole in the wall not too far away from the safehouse, but quite a ways away from any Imperial watering holes. 

“What I want to know,” Cody said, as they settled into a defensible corner with the cheapest, strongest thing on the menu, “Is why the hell you let me inside if you thought I really betrayed you.” 

Obi-Wan grinned, a little. “People deserve a second chance,” he said. “Not everyone involved in the Empire is bad. They still have a chance to remember they’re good.”

Reva, of course. But Tala had joined up with the Empire apparently of her free will too. Something had made her stand up and say no more, but Obi-Wan supposed he would never know what that was now. Who knew how many others still had that choice? Or would make it in the future?

“Your self-preservation instincts are still lacking,” Cody said. 

“Why, thank you,” Obi-Wan said. He tapped his fingers on the table. “I do want to hear about the chips. But also— you said that Rex helped you get out? Does that mean that Ahsoka… that she…” 

“She’s alive,” Cody said, with a soft smile. 

Obi-Wan let out a long, quiet exhale. 

“She’s been with this little rebellion against the Empire almost from the ground up, from what I’ve heard. Doing crazy suicidal Jedi things all over. She outranks all of us now, probably,” Cody said. 

“I suppose I’m not surprised,” Obi-Wan said. Some huge weight that he hadn’t known was there for ten years was suddenly lifted. He supposed he hadn’t wanted to know until now. “She was always the strongest of us.” 

Cody opened his mouth, as if to ask the obvious question, another missing person, and closed it. “It’s been a long time, General.” 

“I think it’s long past the time where you call me that,” he said. “Obi-Wan is fine. Or Ben. That’s what most know me by these days.” 

“Ben what?” Cody said. 

Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched, knowing that he was going to drive Cody crazy. “Kenobi,” he said. 

“I’m sorry, you kept your last name?” Cody said, narrowing his eyes. 

“It’s more common than you think.” 

“And you’ve been wearing a brown Jedi hood this whole time?” 

Obi-Wan leaned back, trying not to show his amusement. “It’s very common farmer’s wear, actually. Similar only passingly to Jedi garb.” 

Cody stared at him. “At least did you go somewhere where no one would know you?” 

“In this galaxy,” Obi-Wan asked philosophically, “Can any one being truly purport to know another?” 

Cody dropped his forehead into his palm. 

Obi-Wan laughed. It felt good to do so. 

“We need another drink,” he said. “And then— well, I really do want to know about what happened to you and your brothers.” His eyes traced along the scar on Cody’s temple. 

“It’s a tough story,” Cody said. He signaled to the bartender. “We’re definitely going to need that.” 

“What isn’t a tough story these days?” 

Still, Cody was right, of course. The Senate, it seemed, had been lying to them more than the Jedi had ever known. They’d also actively repressed reports from the GAR— it turned out that Rex had filed multiple inquiries into the situation. Echo had done the same when he returned, and so had a few others, mostly ones who’d been there when Fives was shot. The Jedi Council hadn’t received any of them. 

Cody suspected, from scuttlebutt around the freed clones, that Shaak Ti had continued to research in secret, but otherwise the rumors had been more or less shuffled away by the demands and pressures of the war. 

He estimated about a hundred of his brothers who’d been freed from the chips. 

In comparison to how many there used to be, this number was not large at all. 

Cody shrugged. “The surgery isn’t too complicated, if you have the right equipment. We manage to bring us in and out all the time; inside men, if you will. But it’s risky— we’re not well-liked among the nat-borns.”

Obi-Wan hummed. “Hard to trust people who worked for the enemy once, I suppose.” Cody gave a wry smile. Obi-Wan finished the last slug of his drink. There was no one around, and the Force was quiet. “Reva and I are here after a shipment of kyber crystals.” 

“The things that power lightsabers?” 

“Along with other things,” Obi-Wan said. “They’ll be here. We want to intercept them.” 

“Hmm,” Cody said. “Do you know where from?” 

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Any of the sacred Force sites. I’m sure they got to Ilum a long time ago. Some from the Temple, I assume, but it wouldn’t have been in the quantities we’re talking about. Other Jedi pilgrimage sites or abandoned temples.”

“Jedha?” Cody said. “The monks there— the Whills, I think— they followed the Force, right?” 

“Quite possibly,” Obi-Wan said slowly. “There were many kyber depositories in the Holy City.” 

“The Empire got a foothold there early on,” Cody said. “I think I know the delivery you’re talking about.” 

A lead. Well, that was more than they had a few hours ago. 

“Then we’d better get back to Reva,” Obi-Wan said, standing. 

“Is she going to murder me?” Cody asked, following. 

“I doubt it,” Obi-Wan said. “I do think that this touched on a… sore point for her. Though it’s always very difficult to tell what she’s thinking.” 

“Hmm,” Cody said. “She’s got a temper. Reminds me of someone else.” 

More than Cody knew. Obi-Wan clenched his jaw tightly and said nothing as they made it outside once more. 

Cody took the hint. 

“Obi-Wan,” he said, before they stepped completely into the street. Obi-Wan paused. “You never really answered my question. Not really.” 

“About what?” Obi-Wan said. 

“Why did you decide to let me help, if you didn’t know for sure that I would be safe?” 

“I suppose I was tired of never trusting anyone,” Obi-Wan said. “If we’re ever going to get through this, Commander, all of us, we have to have a little hope in other people. That’s what will save us, in the end.” 

He put his hood up, and they went out. 

Reva had had to learn what it was to be invisible. 

It was not something she had been used to, in her past life. 

When an Inquisitor came, you knew about it. The Third Sister never had to be frightened of anyone, because everyone was frightened of her. 

It had been a heady feeling. 

Now she had to remember to keep her head down. That when she walked towards someone, they would not move— she would have to. But Reva had always learned quickly. It was why she was alive now. 

She slipped through the crowd near invisibly, hood drawn high. 

The Imperial Center was a boring place. They were always sterile, clean and shiny almost to the point of wastefulness. They also nearly stunk of bureaucracy. It was the wheels upon which a dictatorship turned, after all. 

Reva moved through the crush of people and into a nearby alley, concealed from the street. It wasn’t difficult at all to launch herself upward, to push off a wall and land neatly in a roll on the top of a building. 

She could see the Center from here. 

Damned clone. 

Every horrible thing Reva had done in her life, she had chosen to do. She had been a child when she broke, yes. But she had not been a child for a long time. 

The clones had killed Jedi. So had Reva. 

And they hadn’t had a choice. 

They were victims, all of them; slaves. How long would the Empire take and take from them? What would be left? 

Reva concealed herself neatly in the shadows and listened to some sort of bell ringing inside the building. A shift change. 

Reva didn’t do well with inaction. 

She was better with the hunt. 

Moments later workers began streaming from the building, some chattering to each other and some clearly in a hurry to get home. She had seen the corporate housing here, provided by the Empire and no doubt absolute shavit, but she would also bet that one or two of them lived off base. 

There always were one or two of them, be they superior officers who didn’t like the cheap and efficient housing, rare few who fell in love with a local, or officers recruited from their own planet. Whatever. 

And as she watched, she was proven correct. The majority of the Imperial officers, dressed in shades of grey and black, split off towards the apartment block she’d scoped out earlier. Still others went towards inevitably the entertainment district, for bars or companionship or illegal fun. 

But there was a lone man who went off in his own direction. He wasn’t nervous; not on his way to meet a contact or to complete some secret mission. Just waiting to get home to his couch and holosoaps. 

Perfect. 

Reva leapt gracefully from the roof and landed soundlessly on her feet. 

No one followed her as she tracked the portly human man through the streets, hardly needing the Force to follow him or to stay out of sight. As she said. Those who made others fear had no reason to fear for themselves. 

He went into a building some ways into town. No doubt the original owner had been forced out in favor of this officer. There was a telescope on the roof. This one lived apart from his friends because he was a stargazer. Adorable. 

Reva watched him go inside and considered her options. 

She could squeeze any information she liked from the man’s mind. She highly doubted he would be much trouble. Then she could kill him and stage it to look like an accident. 

But perhaps that wasn’t the way to go about things any more. 

Sometimes, staying in the Light was harder. There were more risks involved. You had to think things through, consequences and alternatives. 

Reva went to the front door, which was locked, but the electronic keypad yielded easily to a press of the Force. It slid open and she stepped inside. 

The human officer she’d followed looked up from his kitchen counter, startled. He looked much like most of the Empire’s little underlings. Round around the middle from a life of comfortable living, pasty-faced, and living slightly above his means. Dreams of moving up in this world. 

It had only really been in the Inquisitors that Reva had seen a hint of what the wider galaxy actually was. Most of the Sisters and Brothers had been non-human; even the intolerable Grand Inquisitor was a Pau’an. The Force, unlike the Empire, had chosen its children diversely. It had meant that the rest of the Imperial ranks had treated them with even more fear and suspicion, as if non-homogeneity was catching.  

Reva was a human, but she had learned from the others what it was to smile like you were not, to know that when others looked at you, all they saw was a monster. 

She smiled now. 

“Quik-meals?” she said, mock-disappointed. “I would have guessed the Empire would feed its precious resources a little better.” 

He squeaked, and reached for a blaster. Reva let the door close and stalked forward, pulling the weapon from his grasp before he could even aim it. 

“Take what you want,” the man said, swallowing nervously. 

“Aw, thank you,” Reva said. There was a cup of fresh caf on the counter; she picked it up and took a healthy swallow. “You should cut back on sugar.”

He seemed to realize, now, that she wasn’t a thief. She also wasn’t openly carrying her blaster, having set his aside, but that didn’t seem to make much of a difference. “What do you want? Who are you?” 

“A friend,” Reva said, leaning conversationally against the counter. “As friends, you’re going to give me the access codes to the docks.” The rank markings on his uniform indicated that he’d be useful for that, at least, if nothing else. 

He shook his head. “That’s not allowed."

“I’m sure it looks like I care,” Reva said. She took another sip of the caf, which was still too sweet but was growing on her. “The access codes. Don’t worry. They’re the same for all you little Imperials on this planet. So they won’t know it was you.” 

He was huge-eyed. “I can’t—”

“I won’t hurt you,” Reva said, but felt that it was less than convincing. “Give me the codes to the spaceport. Then you can go about your… dinner.” The quik-meal looked freeze-dried and less than appetizing. 

“I don’t believe you,” he said, rallying. “I could just go to my superiors right after you leave.” 

Reva had never really been one to go around the edges, to sweet-talk. She stood up straight and tall and bulldozed her way through her problems. She ditched the caf cup. 

“You know as well as I do that the Empire doesn’t care if you’re trying to be a good citizen. You gave up information once— they’d rather kill you and dump your body in an alley than risk you doing it again. Sure you can give me up. But you’d only be giving yourself up too.”

“That’s not true.” He was shaking. “I’m a good worker.”

“I promise you, they don’t care,” Reva said. 

She knew this from experience. 

He seemed to sense some truth in this. “I don’t…” 

“I assure you that death is not the worst thing that can happen to you,” Reva said, leaning closer. 

“I’ll write it down for you,” he said. 

Reva smirked. “Good man.” 

When Obi-Wan and Cody returned to the safehouse, Reva was there. Her emotions were no longer roiling from her like a storm, but they simmered at the edges of Obi-Wan’s senses. 

“Run into any trouble?” Obi-Wan asked, going to the kitchen to make tea with the ancient pot he had scouted earlier. He gave Cody and Reva some space of their own, but so that he could keep an eye on them. 

“No,” Reva said. That could mean anything, of course. Obi-Wan let it go for now. 

Obi-Wan got distracted for a moment smelling the tea, wondering if it would be uncouth for him to take the box and put it in his pocket for back home. When he peered around the corner again, Reva and Cody were still staring each other down. 

Well, no one had started shooting yet. 

Obi-Wan was about to return to his business when, surprisingly, it was Reva who broke the silence. 

“I’m sorry for what happened to you and your siblings. It shouldn’t have happened to any of us.” 

“No,” Cody said. “It shouldn’t. But thank you for saying it anyway, sir. For what it’s worth, whether or not we knew what we were doing, we still did it. So I’m sorry for that too.” 

They gave each other nods. 

Settled, then. Obi-Wan was nearly surprised. 

He ducked back into the kitchen. “Anyone want tea?” 

They were not fooled, but both accepted, and Obi-Wan brought the kettle out as they all once more sat at the table. 

“Cody may have a lead,” Obi-Wan said. 

“Me too,” Reva said.  

“Oh dear, I hope no one’s injured,” Obi-Wan said. 

Reva gave him an amused look. 

“If the shipment really is coming from Jedha, then it’s scheduled to come tomorrow,” Cody said, and slid his datapad across the table. “Five o’clock in the morning. It’s been reoccurring for a couple months now, just passing through here for two days before it's moved somewhere else. We never did find out what it was— didn’t seem too big, in the grand scheme of things. There’s not a huge guard on the package or anything.” 

“Kyber is valuable, but it’s not well-known,” Obi-Wan said. “No one would know to go for the shipment.” 

“And your lead?” Cody asked. 

“Codes for the shipyard,” Reva said. “Imperial access into the yards, the control room, and the security cameras.” 

Obi-Wan frowned. “And what makes you think the Empire isn’t going to know about this access and cut it off?” 

“I suppose I have faith,” Reva said. 

It was impossible to tell if she was being sarcastic or not. 

“It’ll be useful,” Cody said, and tilted his head consideringly. “It’ll only work once.” 

“Sometimes once is more than enough,” Obi-Wan said. 

“If we want the Empire to leave the city alone— or at least not retaliate too badly— it’s probably best to hit the shipment at the yard,” Reva said. “The all-out assault sounds fun. But there are a lot of people in town who probably would not agree.”

It was not what Obi-Wan would expect her to worry about, but he was beginning to see that he didn’t precisely understand Reva Sevander. Probably he never would. 

“Well, then,” Obi-Wan said. “Should we see about making that happen?” 

The next morning dawned. 

Cody returned from an errand with three Imperial uniforms, acquired from whatever mysterious sources he’d managed to cultivate in town. 

There was a stall near the spaceport, the private Imperial one, that seemed to be a popular caf stop for the workers. Obi-Wan stepped forward and procured a set of steaming travel cups, square-based for practicality in a busy and often transitory job. He winked at the caf seller and dropped a few credits into their bare tip cup, then stepped away quickly. 

He affixed the tan cap a little further over his eyes. It was a similar uniform to the one he and Leia had— somewhat questionably— shared on the way out at the Fortress Inquisitorius. Enough to blend into a crowd, or at least hopefully so. 

They weren’t, all told, a very inconspicuous group if given close examination. A lucky Imperial who recognized the group, or even one of them, would be up for a lot of promotions for a very long time.

Obi-Wan gave the cups to Reva and Cody. 

Both were tense with battle-readiness, but neither looked like they were going to fall apart with nerves. They had been trained for moments just like this one, where there was nothing more to think about than what was ahead. 

They went into the Imperial spaceport. 

It was guarded by a bored stormtrooper behind security transparisteel; his helmet was off but he jolted and shoved it on hurriedly when he saw them coming. 

Obi-Wan adopted an Outer-Rim style accent, speaking to Cody as if mid-conversation. Cody picked up on it easily, and turned his head to the side to better speak, conveniently hiding his face further. 

“Did you see the new T-15s?” Obi-Wan asked. “I heard they’re gonna start phasing them out soon.” 

“A piece of junk!” Cody opined. “Trust me, we’ll be seeing the T-16’s soon enough…” 

Reva was the one who came up to the counter. She had the caf cup, which certainly would be instantly recognizable to a bored and sleepy guard on duty, clutched in her hands. Just another civic worker. Nothing to see here. Move along. “Code fifteen-three-four,” she said. “Let us in. Got maintenance work to do.” 

“Don’t recognize you,” the stormtrooper said. 

“Transfers,” Cody said. 

The stormtrooper shrugged. Obi-Wan doubted they’d had much reason to be wary here on Larissa, no need to be especially careful, especially when things looked so ordinary, caf cups and bored officers and all. 

“Okay. Just need to see your identification,” the stormtrooper told them. 

“You don’t need to see our identification,” Obi-Wan said. “We can go through.”

He blinked. “I don’t need to see your identification,” he agreed. “Just go ahead.” He buzzed them through the gate to the hangar, and they were through. 

Hangars were the same everywhere, even those of an evil Empire. This one stretched out for a long ways in front of them, dotted here and there with doors leading to other hangars or to rooms leading off the main way. 

“That was needlessly risky, sir,” Cody told him as they walked. 

“What’s more likely,” Obi-Wan said, “That he’ll assume someone was controlling his mind, or that he’ll assume he forgot to check our identification paperwork? People want the easier explanation. They don’t want to believe in magic.” 

Cody huffed disbelievingly, but didn’t argue. 

“The ship is coming in in less than half an hour,” Reva said. 

“We’d better make sure they have a welcoming party,” Obi-Wan said, and grinned at the other two. They both scowled at him; but he could see the smiles tugging their faces. 

As one, they split off to do their various tasks. 

Obi-Wan found a data terminal, which he was easily able to access with the codes Reva had provided. Thankfully it was not one of the newer terminals which required facial recognition access— it seemed that this, like most everything else here, had been taken from the locals, and it was not exactly cutting-edge. 

From there he was able to slice into the local files. These were the ones that were not kept in the larger Coruscant Imperial database. It was doubtful that the average high-level Imperial cared about things like this planet’s rest schedules or personnel files. 

Obi-Wan did, at the moment. 

He found the shifts for that day— who would be there and who would not. Then he sent out changes, ensuring that most of the staff in the hangar would be missing that day. Not enough to arouse suspicion, or to empty the place out; just so that the place would be short-staffed. Hectic. 

The Empire, as always, was vulnerable to its strict bureaucracy. 

That finished, Obi-Wan shut the terminal down neatly and left.

Some Imperials getting ready for work right now were about to be either very disappointed or very excited they got to sleep in. 

Meanwhile it seemed Cody had done his own tasks with characteristic efficiency. As Obi-Wan strode back into the main hangar, things were quiet. It was early in the morning, so there weren’t many already there; those that were, Cody had redirected to other tasks at opposite ends of the docking bay. 

Cody was used to bossing people around. It seemed he hadn’t lost the touch. 

“All good?” Cody asked as Obi-Wan strolled casually up to him. Simply two colleagues catching up between tasks. 

“If Reva managed not to make a scene.” 

“You know how to pick them, sir,” Cody said. Obi-Wan winced again and looked away, folding his hands in front of himself. Then he shifted— the pose was a little too Jedi, not very Empire. 

Then Reva was there. “My ears are burning,” she said. 

“Control room taken care of?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“You know how it is with these systems,” Reva said. “Always breaking down. Comms are out up there.” 

“I’m going to look for a stormtrooper uniform,” Cody said, checking his chrono to ensure they still had time before the shipment. 

“Why?” Reva asked, giving the room a scan. She had kept hold of the caf; she took a sip now and, ironically, still didn’t look overly like an Imperial grunt. Something too commanding about her, or too prideful. 

“What better way to sneak in somewhere than to wear their uniform— which comes with a handy face covering,” Cody said. He grumbled apparently to himself. “The opsec around here is terrible. You could sneak a couple kids in.” 

He walked away, still muttering. 

“He has no sense of humor,” Reva observed dryly, and as usual it was impossible to tell if she herself was kidding. 

Obi-Wan smiled, a little. 

Cody was wearing his stormtrooper armor and complaining about it when their ship came in. 

“And the sightlines are abhorrent,” he was saying. “If they tried to put my brothers in this bucket I’d have told them to go kri— it’s here?” 

Obi-Wan and Reva were both staring upwards. 

“It’s here,” Obi-Wan confirmed, and closed his eyes to feel the currents of the Force. “So many crystals. What in the world are they doing that they need to dig up so many?” 

Reva shook her head. “Let’s just get these and get out.”

“You got it,” Cody said. 

There was the roar of engines above, to the general alarm of the Imperials down below. There ought to have been warning klaxons, so that the command center would know to guide them in, and the crew below would know to get the hell out of the way before they were landed on. 

The ship landed somewhat ungracefully and Obi-Wan, Reva, and Cody trotted uniformly up to it. The people they’d sent elsewhere radiated faint relief— they didn’t want to deal with the doubtless disciplinary actions that were soon to follow. 

The ship hissed open and Cody shouldered his weapon, keeping on alert. 

An annoyed officer stomped out. “You did not respond to our hails!” he said. 

“You did not hail us,” Obi-Wan said, adopting his natural accent this time, even strengthening the crispness of it. Most of the higher-ranking officers in the Empire were Core-bred, with haughty accents to match. 

“Of course I did!” blustered the officer. 

Obi-Wan turned an eyebrow to Reva, who in turn slapped Cody on the back. “Go confirm with Control the comms are out,” she said. She too had adopted a new voice, and Obi-Wan was a little surprised, though he didn’t show it. It seemed she had been paying close attention to her colleagues when she was still Imperial, and she had gotten the Core accent down almost perfectly.

Cody saluted and marched away. 

“In the meanwhile, let me see your datawork,” Obi-Wan said. 

The soldier passed it to him, and Obi-Wan swiped through it idly for a few moments, having no idea what to actually do with it. It was very different than Republic datawork. Still he had perfected the art of looking busy, and made a show of giving the files a thorough and unimpressed look. 

Cody returned. 

“Comms are out, sir,” he said, which was true. “Control says no unauthorized ships until the issue is fixed.” That part was not. He had, according to the plan, told Control that the ship had merely landed to see if something was wrong, and would be taking off shortly now that they knew nothing was.

“We’re authorized!” protested the officer. 

Obi-Wan gave him a severe look. He passed back the holopad.

“We’ll need to come aboard for inspections,” Reva said. “Take us inside.” 

The officer huffed, but threw his hands up and stomped back onto the freighter. They were in the cargo bay; Obi-Wan could sense that absolutely they were in the right place. The kyber was singing, but it was dull and unsettled. Whoever had harvested it, or however it had been taken from the monks on Jedha, it hadn’t been kind. 

“Cockpit,” Reva said. 

“Oh, this is ridiculous—!” 

“Take us to the cockpit,” Reva repeated. “Sir.”

And he went again.

This station was where the Imperials received their deliveries. Then they shuttled them over to the main Imperial Center, to do with as they wished until they moved on again to another planet. They expected attacks in transit between the two places. Not here. 

They followed him into the cockpit, where there was a pilot tapping her foot and a black Imperial astromech waiting at the console. Clearly they were ready to unload their goods and be done with it. 

“Okay, now what?” asked the officer impatiently. 

“Now,” Cody said, drawing his blaster, “Get back, nice and slow.” 

“Hey—!” said the man, but the woman was already going for the blaster at her waist. 

Reva shot her. 

The man froze. 

“How about you?” asked Reva. 

He scoffed. “Do I get a choice?” 

“Yes,” said Reva. “Which is more mercy than the Empire will ever show you or ever show us. Hands up.” 

He put his hands up. 

“Smart move,” observed Obi-Wan. “Cody?” 

“Yessir.” Cody went to the console and began inputting flight codes; they’d need out of here sooner than later. 

The astromech beeped an alarmed noise, and the Imperial officer shushed it with an annoyed hiss. Gently, Obi-Wan shut the droid down from its exterior power supply. It whirred into quiet. 

“Take us out,” said Reva, and the ship glided into the air and out of the hangar. 

“They’ll notice we’re missing sooner or later,” sniped the surviving officer. 

“There’s no flight log to prove you were ever there,” Obi-Wan said. “Or record of you leaving.” 

“As far as the Imps know, you crashed and burned in the woods due to unknown mechanical malfunctions,” Cody said. 

Larissa was beautiful from above. Obi-Wan hardly got the chance for varied scenery these days. There were peaks of snow on the mountains, and, so far away from the city, wild animals occasionally dotted the viewscreen. 

They flew over the empty wilderness until they were out of range of the Imperial scanners, which would probably be back online by now. Cody had scoped out the area best for their purposes, and he took the ship towards it now. 

“We’re going really fast,” said the Imperial nervously. 

“Are we?” said Cody. “I wouldn’t know. This is my first time flying a ship.” 

Reva laughed, then seemed surprised by it. 

Obi-Wan shook his head fondly. “You may want to cut the engines, if you don’t want a little more premature fire than we planned.” 

“You got it,” Cody said. “Strap in.” 

He waited until they did— the increasingly wary Imperial too— then cut the engines. 

The ship dropped like a stone, but the steering was still operational, and Cody pulled them in so they landed— not gently, but mostly harmlessly, carving a wide gouge in the earth and brush. They jerked and jolted, but finally came to a stop, engines steaming ominously and most of the hull broken into non-operation. 

The Imperial officer had ceased swearing and had apparently started looking for a higher power, sweaty-faced and muttering into the ceiling. 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something about happy landings. Both Cody and Reva gave him a severe look. He closed his mouth again. 

“Let’s go,” Reva said, gesturing for the officer to precede them off the bridge. 

“You’re all crazy,” he said, going with wobbly legs downwards towards the cargo bay. “Insane.” 

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said. He had certainly heard worse. And less accurate. “Watch your step.” 

In the cargo bay Cody held a blaster on the Imperial while Obi-Wan and Reva went to the crates. Obi-Wan knew directly which one the kyber was in, a sort of sad hum that he could feel in his bones. 

They both kneeled next to the container. 

It slid open under Reva’s hand, and shone in the dim light of the cargo bay. The kyber inside glittered. 

Even Cody, with the Force-sensitivity of a rock, sucked in an impressed breath when he saw them. There were several crystals in there, fifty, at least, all shining mournfully in the Force. They all shone various lightened shades of blue, green, or ice; they looked like precious jewels but were unmistakably alive in their own way. 

“Oh, poor things,” Obi-Wan said. 

“We found them,” Reva said, satisfied. 

Obi-Wan turned to look at the Imperial officer. “What were these going to be used for?” he asked. 

The man shrugged. “Why does the Empire want anything?”

“Just to possess them,” Reva said, and harshly shut the lid. “Let’s get going.” 

Cody wandered over to one of the other crates. There weren’t any kyber crystals in there, but the box slid open to reveal a whole pile of ration bars. “Interesting,” he said. “May as well go all the way.” 

Reva and Cody, with the somewhat unwilling help of their Imperial guide, unloaded the majority of the crates while Obi-Wan returned to the cockpit. 

The second pilot was still dead. Obi-Wan carefully closed her eyes. 

Then he set about wrecking all the ship’s internal systems beyond repair. Life support breaking down. Hyperdrive overloaded. He also managed to create a short which started a small fire in the galley. 

“Got everything you need?” Obi-Wan asked his comm. When Cody replied in the affirmative, Obi-Wan flipped his lightsaber out from inside his cloak. 

He used it to break the viewport, which shattered under the saber blade more easily than it would have from any blaster or slugthrower. For good measure Obi-Wan sliced jaggedly through the computer banks, destroying any possible logs or navigational info; at least besides the data Cody had already downloaded. He had no particular use for it, but as he explained it the little resistance cells could use all the inside information from the Empire that they could get. 

When he was sure the ship was totally and completely karked, Obi-Wan pressed the distress beacon and vaulted out of the ship. 

Behind him, something sparked and caught fire. Obi-Wan smiled in satisfaction. 

He bounded lightly over the hull of the ship and landed neatly in front of his companions some way away. Behind him, the flames continued to spread and catch. The ship would be mostly only a hunk of metal within a few minutes. 

“Show off,” Cody said. 

“What the hell do we do with all these extra supplies?” asked Reva. It had seemed a waste to leave them, and now they dotted the brush around them. 

“And what the hell are you going to do with me?” asked the Imperial pilot. 

Obi-Wan flashed his teeth. “A good question, and one I propose should be answered as we leave the area immediately.” 

“This way,” Cody said, shouldering his blaster and nodding to their escape route through the woods, carefully plotted. He’d ditched the stormtrooper uniform, and something in Obi-Wan eased to see it. 

Thankfully the supplies were mostly able to be carried on their original hover-pallets, leaving no trace as they walked and requiring nothing more than making certain they were still following. 

Reva twisted and hopped on top of one. The crate dipped but went back to its smooth flight easily. She sat there with her blaster on her knees, giving the Imperial officer an interesting smile. 

He seemed unnerved. 

Cody glanced at Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan continued to stare placidly ahead, as if nothing at all was wrong in the world. The officer similarly looked as if he wanted Obi-Wan to order something of his fate. 

Finally, Reva said, thoughtfully, “He can go.” 

“What?” asked the Imperial. 

“What?” asked Cody. 

“You can go,” Reva said, putting her chin in her hand. “I’m tired of killing weaklings.” 

It was not necessarily the choice Obi-Wan had expected her to make. But it was a good one. Obi-Wan heard from her, between the lines, I’m tired of killing. 

“You killed Officer Yinna,” said the man. 

“There are times you can’t choose what you do. And times you can.” Reva didn’t move from her slouched, thoughtful position. “You chose to join the Empire. Chose to look away from their evils. Don’t deny it. You can only shut your eyes so tight. Here you go. Here’s a choice. Go back to the Empire and tell them what we’ve done here. Or you can leave, and let them have the story we wrote for them. A ship crashed in a forest. Didn’t make a sound. Happens all the time. You could do the right thing, if you wanted.” 

“And if I do tell them? You’ll kill me?” 

“We won’t,” Obi-Wan said. “You’re free to go, as the lady says.” 

“At least as free as anyone can be, in this kriffing galaxy,” Cody grumbled, nearly under his breath. 

The man made as if to go, then paused, expecting some kind of trick. He turned back and narrowed his eyes. “And if I don’t do the right thing?” 

“Then,” Reva said, “You’ve got the chance to do it next time. Now get the hell out of here before I really do decide to shoot you.” 

That, apparently, was enough to have him bolting off into the woods, the opposite direction they were going but also away from the starship ‘crash’.  

“Well done,” Obi-Wan said, hiding a smile in the fold of his cloak. 

Reva narrowed her eyes at him. “Thanks for making me make that choice, by the way.” 

“It’s not my mission we’re on,” Obi-Wan said.  

“When did it become mine?” Reva asked, but it was, Obi-Wan thought, mostly to herself. 

“I for one think it’s a terrible idea,” Cody said cheerfully. “But I think I became inured to bad ideas a long time ago. Like a virus.” 

“Yet you didn’t shoot him in the back,” Reva said. 

“Yeah,” Cody said. “Think I’ve had enough of killing too.” 

The forest was quiet after that. 

They hadn’t had access to speeder-bikes or anything similar. They had decided not to acquire them, either; the energy signatures of such things could be picked up, and the whole operation would be blown. 

The Empire hadn’t stretched out to this forest yet— there were no natural resources that couldn’t be more easily obtained elsewhere. Of course, eventually they would cut down the trees and mine underneath the soil, for no other reason than the Empire hated beauty for beauty’s sake. 

So there ought not to have been anyone out there. 

Yet, it was only a short walk later that Obi-Wan began to feel presences, peeking through the trees. Not dangerous. But wary, somewhat dampened. 

“Cody,” Obi-Wan said quietly, and Cody’s blaster snapped up and towards the trees. 

“Hostiles, sir?” he asked. 

“No,” Reva said. 

Cody looked at Obi-Wan, then dropped the blaster back down to his side. 

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan called personably, folding his hands. “Would you like to come out?” 

There was a pause. 

Then people emerged from the trees; ragged, but not broken yet. Still shining in the Force. None were wearing Imperial uniforms, just leathers and pilot’s clothing. 

Cody’s eyebrows shot up. “We had gotten word there was another small resistance here,” he said lowly. “But no one was able to confirm.” 

A woman stepped next from the treeline and gave them a wary and untrusting stare. 

“You are dressed as Imperials,” she said. 

“Yet we clearly are not,” Obi-Wan said. “I believe you saw the crash.” 

“That was no crash. It takes much faith in us to admit that you are not on the Empire’s side.” 

“I suppose I have a good feeling about you.” 

The rebel woman’s eyes flicked over Obi-Wan, and there was almost a spark of recognition. She recognized him from the war, perhaps. Indeed, faith was needed here. 

“What is it you want from us?” she added. “One crashed Imperial ship is not exactly the end of an Empire.”

“It takes a hundred small steps to make one go far,” said Reva, and Obi-Wan realized suddenly she was quoting Master Yoda. Then she grinned, still that vaguely sharp edge to it, and she was the Reva he knew again. “Besides, we don’t want anything for you. We’ve got a present. Or maybe you can’t use a couple supplies.” 

She knocked a fist on one of the stolen crates. 

“Hmm,” said the woman, with a bit of humor now. “We can talk.”  

They and their hovercrates were led through the woods and then further through a small cave system. Obi-Wan smelled the campfires before they even reached them, and they broke into a large cavern to find a gathering of more rebels, but children here too. A rebellion and a refuge, at once. 

The supplies were taken gratefully, and Obi-Wan watched Cody mark their passage. Cody above all else here knew how to outfit a proper army, what they needed to survive and to win. 

He must have been good at it, his job on the Path. Obi-Wan hadn't thought about that before. 

The rebels watched the newcomers warily, circling up to see if a fight would be needed.

But Obi-Wan wasn’t worried. 

No one had taken their weapons. 

They were led to a campfire, and Obi-Wan lowered himself to sit beside it in one fluid motion. Reva followed after, similarly graceful after only a moment of hesitation. Then Cody, who got down with much creaking and complaining. 

The rebel woman motioned for most of her people to leave her. They went gratefully— there were happy shouts, from the supply tent. The rations must have been sorely needed. It was hungry work, fighting a war. 

“Thank you for taking us in,” Obi-Wan said. “I hope we have been of some help to you.” 

“How did you know we needed supplying?” she asked. 

“The Force moves in mysterious ways,” Obi-Wan said. “It calls us, on occasion.” 

“Why did you take us to your camp?” Reva asked. “It’s one thing to let us go, another to let us see your stronghold. We’re not that trustworthy. 

“In truth, I noticed the lightsaber,” said the woman. 

Obi-Wan looked down at his waist; it was still visible there, where he had habitually hooked it after its use on the ship. 

He tucked his lightsaber back under his shirt-tails and wondered why he had reverted to the habits of his past now. “You know the Jedi.”

She shook her head. “I heard stories and that’s all. Here on Larissa we used to be too far from the Core to pay much attention to the workings of the Republic, and them too busy to pay too much attention to us.” 

But she had recognized a lightsaber on sight, not even lit; she must have heard and treasured the stories of the Jedi more than she would admit. Obi-Wan knew that once upon a time people used to tell of the Jedi like bedtime stories, mystical beings who would come to protect you in your time of need. 

“A Jedi is said to be a great warrior,” she said, a little cautiously. 

“To tell you the truth, my dear, I didn’t use it to fight.” He leaned in a little closer. “But do you want to know a secret?” 

She nodded. 

“To keep a lightsaber from fighting is its greatest purpose,” Obi-Wan said. “This, here, is how I always prefer to use it.” 

She had recognized it, after all, and it had made a difference. And it had never needed to be lit. 

The Larissan rebels let them go. 

Cody gave the leader a comm address through which they could reach an intermediary, and then the Path. 

“They’ll help you set up,” Cody explained. “You’ve got a good operation going on here. But it can always be better, with more support and a wider range.”

“I didn't know there were other people out there who fought the Empire too,” said the woman in wonder.

“You’re not alone,” Cody said. “And no one in this galaxy is, no matter how much they’d like you to believe that you are.” 

And they were given a speeder to take back to the spaceport, where they were told to leave it with another contact of theirs. Apparently, they’d been quietly sabotaging the Empire’s operations there for months. 

Cody went to check out the bike, and Obi-Wan and Reva stayed off to the side, clutching their kyber crystals.

“That’s it?” Reva said. 

“Yes. What did you expect?” 

“I don’t know. They are looking at the last of the Jedi Generals, a Sith acolyte, one of the last of the clone troopers, all trained killers and all people hunted to the ends of the galaxy… I suppose I just expected more bloodshed. A more exciting story.” 

“I brought my lightsaber along,” Obi-Wan agreed thoughtfully. “Which I thought would be a more momentous occasion. But I didn’t use it to fight, this time. Yet, it still helped us. I think that pleases me very much.” 

“You are an old sentimental peacemonger,” Reva said, but though she said it like an insult, it didn’t sound like one. 

“Did you enjoy your mission?” Obi-Wan said. She gave him a surprised look. “This was your operation. And it went, in the end, very well.” 

“It’s not going to make much of a difference,” Reva said, looking away. 

“But it did make a difference.”

Now she did smile, a little. “Yes. And that is something. There’s still a lot of work to do.” 

“So there is.”

Cody came back up. He looked cheerful, brighter. “Bikes look good. Ready to go?” 

They nodded, and slipped back into the woods. 

Obi-Wan stepped off the ship. The fledgeling Path had set up shop on Jagomir, clearly still in the beginning process of construction. Yoda would have liked the place, Obi-Wan thought. It was very swampy. 

The Path’s base was busy. Hearteningly so; he had been worried that the losses on Jabiim had been enough to nearly kill the burgeoning rebellion in its cradle. But of course he ought to have known better. It was not so easy to stop something like this, once it had started. 

A few people gave Obi-Wan distracted looks. One or two of them stopped in their tracks as if recognizing him, but Obi-Wan was here for a very particular reason. A particular person, more accurately. 

He waited with an impassive face, folding his arms inside his cloak and waiting.

Obi-Wan wasn’t worried. The person he was meeting, after all, was not exactly known for being the most reliable, and he was never on schedule. That was part of his charm. 

Sure enough, several minutes after the assigned meeting time, Obi-Wan heard footsteps coming around the other side of the ship. 

“Sorry, man. I know the Senator pulled some strings to get to me, and I honestly love meeting mysterious, suspicious fans, but I got caught up in some paperwork—” 

Obi-Wan turned to look at the speaker. He gave a bare smile, and pushed off his hood. “Hello, Quinlan.”

Quinlan Vos said; “Oh, Force be with us,” then he dropped a stack of datapads from his hands and leapt to hug Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan caught the embrace and returned it more forcefully than even he had thought he was going to. 

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Quinlan said, drawing back just enough to put both hands at the back of Obi-Wan’s neck and shake. “I thought you were dead, you huge bastard.”

“They tried,” Obi-Wan said. “Quite hard, actually.” 

“You got grey,” Quinlan told him. “And wrinkly.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “Oh, you hardly look better.” 

In fact, he was somehow surprised to see that the ten years had arrived on Quinlan’s face just as it had his. Quinlan was wearing his hair unbraided and natural, which Obi-Wan actually hadn’t seen since they were very, very young. He had his familiar yellow tattoos but some new ones too, symbols which Obi-Wan didn’t recognize but which he was sure had their own meanings. Grey was sprinkled in his hair, though less liberally than his own.

Quin was dressed in the same worn but practical clothes as the rest of the rebels, and in the Force he was quiet and tired. Obi-Wan helped him pick up the datapads, knees creaking. 

“We both know that’s a lie. I’m timeless, Kenobi.” Quinlan slung an arm around him and led him through the base, presumably to find some semblance of privacy. “What have you been up to?” 

“Not so much as you, it seems,” Obi-Wan deflected. “Only when the eyes are closed can one truly see.” 

“Mapuzo!” Quinlan said, delighted. “You got my message. Too bad that safe house got destroyed a while ago. It seems some high-level asset was chased there by some Sith… maniac… Obi-Wan.” 

Obi-Wan shrugged, a smile pulling at his mouth. “Regardless, I was glad to learn you were alive. It was heartening.” And it had been at a time where he had, very much, needed hope. He doubted Quinlan could know how much the small sign meant to him. 

Or maybe he did. Maybe that was why he left it in the first place. 

Quinlan beamed at him. 

“I’m here, actually, because I have a present,” Obi-Wan told him. He was wearing a satchel at his side; worn-looking but cleverly insulated from inside, a gift from Haja. It would be impossible to sense the contents, which was of course the intention. 

“For little old me?” 

Obi-Wan handed the bag over. Quinlan was still walking, but he stopped dead, getting a glimpse at the shine inside. 

“Kyber crystals? Where in the galaxy did you get so many?” 

“You know how things tend to fall into your lap,” Obi-Wan said. “Anyway, a little blinkbird told me that you may know what to do with these.” 

“Maybe,” Quinlan said. Quinlan ducked into an office off a side hallway. It looked temporary but it also looked extensively used, as if there had been a lot of late nights and stressful mornings. Lots of datapads and holoprojectors, scribbled notes and reminders. It looked a little like Obi-Wan’s office during the war. He didn’t particularly like that. “There were some—” 

Obi-Wan winced and cut him off. “It’s better for everyone if I don’t know too many details. About anything. I still have some… Powerful enemies.” 

“You were always good at making those.” 

Well, the ghosts chasing Obi-Wan were not newly-made. But he kept this to himself. He gave Quinlan half a smirk. 

Quinlan pulled the bag of kyber crystals towards himself once more. He looked inside, and drew a shining crystal from it, examining it in a gloved hand. “Wow,” he said. “There are some things you never really thought you’d see again.” 

“I know what you mean.” 

“They’re beautiful,” Quinlan said. “I know you don’t want the details. But these could make a difference. There are some people who could use these.” 

“I’m glad,” Obi-Wan said. “There are not a lot of pretty things left in this galaxy— now, I entrust those to you.” 

“You’re sticking around, yeah?” Quinlan asked, with little hope. “I could show you around. Make the fan clubs faint a little. I swear these kids keep getting younger. We got a couple officers I swear should still be in school. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few posters of you on a few walls.” 

Obi-Wan smiled. “I’d hate to disappoint them with the cold reality.”

“Aw, come on,” Quinlan said. “We can always use a few hands around here. ‘Specially ones who can get a full shipment of kyber without me ever hearing about it on my usual networks.” 

“I’m sorry, Quin— though it is good to see you. I have to make one last stop, then, well, I’m back to my little hiding hole.” 

“I find it very hard to believe that you’ve been doing nothing but hiding for ten years, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Quinlan said, grinning. “But I’ll let you keep your secrets. Force knows we all have those, these days. On one condition, though— you stay for a drink.” 

“I think I could manage that,” Obi-Wan said. “Actually, it sounds nice.”

Alderaan was always beautiful. Today it had only recently stopped raining, and huge rainbows lit the sky above the mountains. In deference of his visitor, though, Bail had pulled the curtains close before posting them up in his plush study, steaming cups of tea in front of them. 

“You’re looking well,” Bail said. Obi-Wan was well aware that what he really meant was better, as in no longer teetering on the brink. 

“Well, I got out of the house,” Obi-Wan said. “Stretched my legs a bit.” 

Bail poured more tea. “Tell me about it, old friend.” 

So Obi-Wan did, for a while, somewhat abridged and more than a little sanitized. When he was finished, Bail’s brows were raised almost fully to his hairline; he shook his head with a smile. “I might have known you’d be unable to stay out of trouble,” he said. 

“I didn’t go looking for it.”

“And yet it found you all the way on Tatooine,” Bail said. “A talent of yours.” 

Obi-Wan huffed in mostly-mock-offense. 

“And yet I don’t think you came here just to tell war stories,” Bail said. “Why have you come?” 

Obi-Wan took a small wrapped bundle from within his robes. He unfolded it, and the handful of kyber crystals there chimed brightly. 

Bail leaned forward to look. “Oh—” he said, “They’re beautiful. They’re Jedi crystals?” 

Obi-Wan gave him an amused look. Bail— many people, really— sometimes forgot that the Force wasn’t some peculiarity of the Jedi, but a Force that had existed long before and would exist long after the Order; that it flowed through all living things. 

“Kyber crystals, yes,” he said. “They power lightsabers.” 

But for all his ignorance of how the Force worked, Bail was not stupid. “Are they… will one be Leia’s? Or the boy’s?” 

Obi-Wan sighed, and looked at the palmful of stones. “I don’t know,” he said. “I felt I should take them. But I don’t know why.”

He could almost feel the future of these crystals, or a possibility of that future, at least; one where the children brought light back to the galaxy, where a lightsaber was no longer a death sentence. A crystal for Luke, quite possibly. For Leia, perhaps. 

Students, too. If Luke had any of his own, these were waiting for them too. 

Obi-Wan stood to look out the window, twitching the curtain aside to let in a small beam of light. It was very different from Tatooine, yet still, somehow, felt similar. A place where things started. Or ended. 

“The Force moves mysteriously,” Bail said. “But I think that this is a good sign.” 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “A brighter future. Where lightsabers can be built again and worn openly. I will keep them on Tatooine. For a while. Until they can be used again.” 

“We all look forward to that day,” Bail said. “I know that it will come.” 

“We will see.” 

There was a pinprick of light, a miniature supernova in the Force. Obi-Wan knew immediately who it was coming down the hall. 

“Daddyyyyy!” Leia said, in like a bat from the hells. “You didn’t tell me Ben was hereee!” She came running in for a hug, full-bodied, and Obi-Wan, surprised, had more or less no choice but to catch her and pick her up into the embrace. 

She giggled as he did, and she clamped onto his neck with both arms, evil creature that she was. “Did you bring me something?” 

Bail was laughing openly. 

“That is not polite, Leia,” Obi-Wan said. He was embarrassingly unconvincing at his stern act. Bail was no help, and Leia beamed. 

“Lola wanted to say hi,” Leia said, and drew the little droid out from the holster at her side— Tala’s. Lola buzzed up happily and flittered around Obi-Wan’s face. “I couldn’t wait.” 

“Well, if it was Lola,” Obi-Wan said. “In that case, yes. I did bring you something. Perhaps not as exciting a gift as you are used to.” 

He bent over to deposit her back on the floor. And he pulled out a small speeder model from the depths of his cloak. He had picked it up in anticipation of this very visit; not that he was going to tell her that. 

“Oh!” Leia said in excitement. “Thank you!” She gave a courtly little curtsy that she seemed to remember only at the last moment. 

She buzzed it through the air, mimicking flight. 

“Bye, Ben!” she called, and bolted from the room, following her own hand as she darted the speeder through the imaginary skies. 

“She is going to be something amazing,” Bail said, watching the tail end of her braid disappear through the doorway. 

“She already is,” said Obi-Wan. “And she’s going to be our future, too.” 

“I guess that’s why we fight,” Bail said. “I sometimes wonder.” 

“Not me,” said Obi-Wan. “Not any more.” 

Sinking back into the familiar heat of Tatooine was somehow relieving, now. 

Haja was gone; he had gone back to his work on the Path as Obi-Wan returned. There had been no trouble while Obi-Wan had been gone. 

It was almost comforting, now, how much the same the desert stayed, day after day. It also, of course, shifted constantly, sand moving beneath the surface, great hills rising and falling over time. 

Obi-Wan had said goodbye to Cody and Reva both, on a small outpost away from Larissa. 

Cody was being swapped out for a non-clone operative on the planet, in case anyone there had caught sight of his quite distinctive face. Obi-Wan was to complete his various errands before returning to his charge on Tatooine, but he had expected to give Reva a ride somewhere first. 

Instead she had seemed almost sheepish. 

“Cody has told me there are more of his brothers still alive,” she said. “That they remain, trapped, not only by the Empire, but by the chips in their heads.” 

He had a feeling she was not simply telling him the facts of the situation. He waited. 

“I’m going with him,” she said. “They need more people working on it. And it will be useful for them to have a Force-sensitive, not to mention someone actually familiar with warfare. It seems like their operations are going to need a lot of work.” 

“You’re going to help free the people who sieged our Temple?” Obi-Wan asked gently. 

“Yes. I think I am. I think… you are right. The galaxy shouldn’t be like this, so it’s up to us to make it how it should be. And we need to start somewhere. The clones— the clones are where I’m going to start. They’re calling me.” 

“That’s good,” Obi-Wan said, when it was clear that Reva was waiting for some sort of approval, some sort of assurance that she was doing the right thing. 

Of course, then his tone was too earnest, because she rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too excited. I’m no crusader for justice, and I’m certainly no Jedi.”

“Everything starts somewhere,” Obi-Wan said, with a stuffy Master voice that he knew used to drive his apprentice insane. “A forest starts with a pile of dirt.” 

“There must be a forest growing behind your ears, then,” Reva said. She chucked him on the shoulder, rather hard. “Bye, Kenobi. You did what you said you would. And that’s something, I guess.” 

“Too generous, Miss Sevander. May the Force be with you.”

She had hesitated, but she had said it back. 

She was right. She was no Jedi, but she was certainly no Inquisitor either. 

Cody, too, had said his goodbyes, with Reva giving them their privacy. On this parting, they had clasped each other in a hug. 

“It was good to see you, General,” Cody said. 

“Good to see you too, Commander,” Obi-Wan said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thank you for your help.” 

“I owe you a lot more than that,” Cody said, sounding choked. “Obi-Wan, Utapau, I thought—”  

“There are many things I thought too,” Obi-Wan said. “Let us leave it at that.” 

Cody’s mouth twisted, but he said no more about it. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Cody,” Obi-Wan said. “Reva knows where to find me.” 

“She’s going to be a handful, I think,” Cody said.

“Oh, yes,” Obi-Wan said. “You’re up to the task.” 

“Thank you for the faith,” Cody said. It was supposed to sound like a joke, but it didn’t really. Obi-Wan gave him a little smile. 

Cody and Reva’s transport had arrived. 

Obi-Wan saw them off, his hands folded up inside his robes. They both turned to give him one last look before the door closed. To know they were out there, following the Path, fighting against the Empire, it gave him a good feeling about the galaxy. 

There were still people out there, fighting for it, in all their own ways, both big and small. Things would return to the light eventually. Dawn always came, even for people like the Third Sister, even for clones without an army, and even for old, tired former Jedi. 

That was then. Now he was back on Tatooine. He went out into the desert, with Qui-Gon walking silently in his footsteps. 

He had wrapped the shining kyber, those few pieces which the Force had told him to guard, in a cloth and put it in a box. Now he was putting it in the same sand dune where he had once hidden his and Anakin’s lightsabers. 

The sand was soft between his fingers, and here, in the last breaks of day, it was pleasantly warm but not hot, falling between the cracks of his hands. The kyber was put underground, but it still shone. 

This time, he was burying nothing in a grave. He was planting it for the future. 

Obi-Wan turned and went back to his home, watching the two suns set on the horizon.