Saga And Let the Shadows Fall Behind You (DDC2016, Obi-Wan) Entry 13, September 9

Luke's been through an emotional time, but his natural instincts to try and help always shine through, even if his judgement is poor.

Of course! There's a recklessness to his idealism even this young.

I think he had a fair idea of the reaction it would cause, although perhaps underestimated the vehemence of it - his greatest ally in a negotiation is cunning and calculation.

Ben didn't realise how his sudden absence would affect Luke, and while the reaction was heartbreaking I think Ben was a bit pleased as well that Luke had formed an affection for him, and missed him when he was gone.

Thank you! I really do love writing bubby!Luke.

It's given him a different perspective of Anakin, that's for sure, because it was always so remote before, and Anakin probably didn't talk about it much. But seeing the humanity and humiliations of slave life, and having those implants in his hands has certainly had an affect on him.

Well, Anakin said he slaughtered the tribe, even the women and children, but I think one of two of them might have survived to tell the tale - which then spread urban legend style among the rest of the tribes.[/quote][/quote]

 

Tags: Findswoman gaarastar58 Briannakin

Entry 10

It was past midnight by the time I made it back to the Lars farm, but we found the power off and the place still.

“Sorry, girl.” I patted Rooh’s neck as she panted, almost exhausted from the journey. “Just a little bit longer – take us to Anchorhead.”

Luke had fallen asleep, his small form resting back against me and I thought about leaving him at the Homestead but quickly decided against it. I may need proof that he was alright, and even I knew it was irresponsible to leave a six year old alone. Especially one with a penchant for wandering off!

As expected, I found a gathering at The Weary Traveller and I carried Luke in my arms into the establishment. I was relieved when he continued to sleep soundly, his head against my shoulder as I loitered in the shadows for a moment. Owen was addressing the crowd – I saw Gavin Darklighter, Fara Marstrap and Jully Sandskimmer amongst them, nodding along with Owen’s heated words as he urged them to form a raiding party. His voice was hoarse, as if he’d been arguing his case for hours, and I saw some unconvinced faces among the crowd.

“It’s not enough just to chase them away every time they get too close,” Owen said, smacking a closed fist against his palm. “They see it as weakness and an invitation to trespass further. We need to strike back, and hard, because it isn’t just some vaporator they’ve vadalised this time.”

“Look, I know they’ve got your boy,” a voice spoke up, someone I didn’t recognize. “But it’s a suicide mission, Owen. We can fight ‘em off alright here, but on their own turf? It’s madness.”

“So we just let them take our children?” Owen demanded, earning a few cries from the crowd in agreement.
I noticed Lotty was absent from her usual position behind the bar, and scanning the room I found her in the corner booth, a sobbing Beru in her arms. Seeing her distress made me ashamed of waiting so long, and I immediately stepped out into the main bar area.

“Luke is fine,” I called out to get their attention. “He’s here.”

“Luke!” Beru wiped her tear-stained face and bolted over to me, jolting Luke awake as she pulled him from my arms and into her own.

“Aunt Beru.” Luke began to cry as well, burying his face in her shoulder and grasping her tightly about the neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, my daring,” Beru said, rocking Luke as if he was still a baby. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

Owen approached slowly, his gaze fixed on Luke as if he couldn’t believe it. He reached out slightly for him but then pulled back, as if realizing Beru wasn’t about to give him up. Instead he placed a soft hand on Luke’s head

“Alright, alright,” Lotty spoke up. “Crisis averted, you can all go home.”

The crowd begrudgingly dispersed, likely out of respect for Owen and Beru and fear of Lotty, although I received a range of looks from suspicious to admiring as they shuffled out of the bar.

“Well well well, Kenobi,” she said as the room emptied. “It seems like you’re a good one to have in a pinch.”

“I try to be,” I said, wary of further questioning.

“Thank you, Lotty,” Beru cut in. “We’re going to take Luke home now.”

“Let me know if you need anything.” Lotty dug around in her skirt pockets and withdrew a small wrapped sweet, handing to Luke who grasped it with a muffled thanks. “And stay out of trouble, young man. You had all of us worried.”

Luke sniffed and nodded, while Owen put his hand on Beru’s back to gently guide them towards the door. I turned back to Lotty, my mind already working on how to spin the story of how exactly I walked into a Tusken camp and retrieved Luke.

“Kenobi.” Owen’s gruff voice called from the door, although when I turned his back was still to me. “You coming?”

Lotty raised her eyebrows at me and shrugged, walking back behind the bar and so I had my reprieve. Owen and Beru clearly had a superior claim on my explanations, and I followed them back to the farm with Rooh. I left her outside with a large bucket of water and some mushrooms I knew Beru kept stored in the garage. Then I made my way into the homestead.

“What did you think you were doing, Luke?” Owen was asking as I walked in, and I hung back for a moment. Luke was sitting at the meals table, shaggy hair falling in his eyes as he looked down at his hands.

“Your Aunt went to hang the washing for ten minutes, and when she returned she found this.” Owen lay a scrap of paper on the table, the writing smeared with what I assumed were tears. “A note to say you’d gone off to talk to the Sand People? It was stupid.”

So Owen had known Luke had left of his own accord, rather than being kidnapped. I wondered if he’d shared that information with the others, or if that knowledge would have hurt his chances of raising a party to rescue Luke and so he’d let them assume it was an abduction – like it had been with Shmi all those years ago.

“We know you wanted to help, Luke.” Beru lay a hand on his shoulder. “But you scared me and your Uncle to death.”

“I’m sorry.” Luke’s tears started anew, and I could see Beru’s heart break.

“Come here.” Owen remained stoic, but his voice was softer. Luke got up slowly, wiping his nose with his sleeve and standing before his uncle, clearly expecting a further rebuke. Instead Owen drew him into his arms, hugging the child fiercely. It was the first time I’d ever seen such unrestrained emotion from Owen that was not anger.

“You have to stay safe, Luke,” Owen whispered, and I turned to look at the wall, feeling I was intruding on an intimate moment. “Your Aunt and I don’t know what we’d do if we lost you.”

“I’m sorry,” Luke said again through his tears. “I love you, Uncle Owen.”

“I love you too,” Owen almost choked out the words. “Now go to bed, and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

The wait while Beru put Luke to bed was interminable – the glimpse of the gentler side of Owen disappearing as soon as they left the room leaving only his scowl as I took a seat across the table. He did not speak, clearly waiting for his wife’s return before the interrogation began.

I heard a gentle singing from the other room, and for a moment I felt a pang of sorrow for the mother I had few memories of. At the Temple if you had difficulty sleeping there was no one to sing you a lullaby – it was about learning not to need such things.

When Beru returned she went straight to the kitchen, returning after a few minutes with a tray of beverages – tea for myself and her, and what smelled like caf for Owen.

“It’s the tea you left me,” Beru said as she poured me a cup. “Thank you, I’ve never drunk anything so fine.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s from Alderaan.”

“On an errand from Jabba?” Owen’s voice was sharp, and he glared at me over the rim of his cup as he took a drink.

“No,” I said carefully, since they had no idea that Leia even existed, let alone where she was. “Visiting an old friend.”

“So how did you find Luke?” Owen moved on to the next question without missing a beat.

“Rooh found him,” I explained. “Picked up his scent in the desert.”

“She is a special animal,” Beru smiled. “Luke was so fond of her.”

“Did the Tuskens harm him?” Owen pressed on. “Because if those bastards touched a hair on his head…”

“They didn’t,” I assured them. “They were keeping him as a hostage – for bargaining purposes.”

“And yet you got him out.” Beru pushed a small plate of sweet biscuits towards me. “We are so grateful.”

“They were afraid of my lightsaber,” I said, sweeping aside my robe to where it hung on my belt. “Called me a demon.”

“Because of Anakin,” Beru nodded. “He slaughtered the tribe that killed his mother.” My shock that she was aware of the circumstances must have been obvious, because she continued. “I overheard him and Padmé talking about it after he brought back her body. How he killed them all.”

“The only good thing he ever did, other than father Luke,” Owen said gruffly. “It was justice for Shmi and better than those sandrapers deserve.”

“I only hope they don’t seek you out for retribution Ben.” Beru looked concerned, nudging the plate of biscuits closer again until I took one. It was soft and delicate in my mouth, perfect with the tea.

“Seek him out?” Owen puffed air between his lips in dismissal. “More likely they will become even more aggressive with us – this changes nothing, we still need to stop being defensive and take the fight to them.”

“That will do no good,” I tried to reason with him. “It will only start a war no one would win.”

“And how would you know?” Owen all but spat the words out. “You don’t know our ways, you haven’t lived for years with the Sand People creeping closer. They killed Shmi and countless others – they maimed my father – I won’t allow that to happen to what’s left of my family.”

I took a long sip of tea, calming myself before answering. “I have not lived here long, you are correct. But I have known war, and I have known suffering – I have lost more friends than I can count to an enemy that I am unable to do anything to fight against. I live with more guilt and sorrow than you could ever imagine, and although Luke is not my own, even though I must stay away from him at your request, I take my duty to protect him very seriously. If I thought a fight against the Tuskens would keep him safe I would be out there on the front lines. But I have fought in enough battles to know when it is fruitless – when the cost will far exceed the reward. You may dislike me and everything I stand for, Owen, but at least respect my experience.”

Owen was silent for a long time, scrutinizing me as if looking for a kink in my armor. Eventually, he looked down at his hands, and I saw a muscle in his jaw twitch.

“So what do you suggest?” he asked, and I could see he was having difficulty getting the words out.

“Give me a few weeks,” I said. “I’ll think of something.”

“Owen.” Beru put her hand on her husband’s arm. “Ben has earned a bit of trust.”

“Look what he did with it last time.”

“And learned his lesson,” Beru insisted. “If the Sand People fear him, maybe he can help.”

Owen exhaled loudly, his eyes darting back to my face. He stared and me for several minutes, before nodding curtly. “If you think you can reason with those savages, go ahead.”

I stood, smoothing out my clothes. “I’ll let you know how things progress.” I walked towards the door but was halted by Owen’s final words.

“Thank you, Kenobi,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “For bringing Luke back to us.”

A small victory - a simple thank you, given begrudgingly. But better than a punch in the face - quite literally!

Ben Kenobi

 

Excellent and true characterizations and on-point arguments about the futility of agression although you can understand Owen's feelings about pushing first. Delightful and touching family style moments as well. Beru's natural warmth and sensibleness are indeed keeping things on track and civil.

 

Oi! I missed an update!

Typical Luke, always trying to help others, even if he gets in harms way. Such an eager kid.

I love seeing the softer side of Owen. You write him so well!

 

Owen is a nasty bit of work, hard to win.

But I am glad that Beru is at least fair and kind to Obi-Wan.

And Luke, he simply cannot help being a sweet child.

 

Owen is a product of his circumstances and history, and has good reason to hate the Tuskens although it clouds his judgement. He's held in check by Beru's sensible attitude - thankfully for Ben!

That was my intent - a tendency towards wrath is a very good way to put it, but it comes from a place of fierce love and a desire to protect his family. I really love Owen as a character and dislike when he's thought to be simply dismissive or even abusive towards Luke. It was always clear to me that Owen loved Luke deeply although had difficulty showing it, and it often came out harsh when it was really protective.

Ben has to get a win sometime! Beru was deeply touched that Ben left her the gift of tea even though he was on the outs from them, and she thinks he's done his penance.

It would! (hint hint) I'm fascinated by Anakin and Padme's short visit to the homestead in AoTC, and it seemed plausible that she would have overheard the conversation. It is probably a huge relief to her that Luke is so sweet and in some ways so much more like his mother than father.

Thank you! I really wish there was more Owen and Beru fic about - they and Luke's early life fascinates me.

Luke's sweetness is a huge contrast to Owen who while he loves the boy deeply perhaps doesn't understand him like Beru or even Ben. Owen's life has been one of hard and constant work, so I think that plays into his character a great deal.

 

Tags: Findswoman gaarastar58 Briannakin

Entry 11


Dear Qui-Gon,

I am beginning to wonder if my reputation as a great negotiator was overstated, or if Tatooine is just so far removed from the culture and etiquette I am used to that it has left my talents blunted. I admit that perhaps the Tusken’s fear of me has contributed to a lack of progress, although the more pressing concern is the communication issues.

I have journeyed to the Tusken settlement several times over the past few weeks, although I am no longer permitted inside the camp. The Shaman will meet me outside accompanied by two warriors, and on occasion I believe only the presence of the lightsaber hanging from my belt prevents them from lodging a gaderffii stick in my skull.

I have been able to discern some intent from the Tuskens through the Force, but the nuance of negotiation is so often in the use of language cues, which has frustrated my efforts to find common ground between them and the moisture farmers. I know the thrust of the dispute of course – the Tuskens are indigenous to Tatooine and see the water as their divine right, usurped by the arrival of the settlers despite the generations which have passed since colonisation.

It is a dispute so old that it hardly seems productive attempting to resolve it – the best I can hope for is convincing the Tuskens to halt their recent aggression which has led to damage of equipment on several outlying farms. It was only today that I made progress, when I received a quite unexpected visit from Marei.

She had a mission for me from Jabba – a bounty who his sources believed was hiding on Kiffu.

“What is this man’s crime?” I asked her, my continued debt to Jabba quickly becoming an issue I cannot ignore.

“He thought you might ask,” Marei said, looking down at her hands. “He said that was none of your concern and he had other bounty hunters in his employ if you did not wish to take the job.”

A warning, since I knew Owen and Beru’s livelihood relied on Jabba’s goodwill. If I were to refuse the bounty he could very well renege on our entire agreement and again push the Lars family into poverty. I admit that in some of my wilder dreams I imagine convincing them to leave Tatooine with me, running off to somewhere more hospitable. And yet I quickly push aside such thoughts, knowing they would never be swayed to leave their home, and even if they could be, there is nowhere in the galaxy we would be safe.

“Tell Jabba I will take the job, with gratitude,” I told Marei, putting aside the quandary for reflection later. “It is good to see you again,” I added softly, indicating she should take a seat at my table. “Come share tea.”

But Marei stood rooted to her position, and eyed me with something like pity. “You know why he sends me, don’t you?”

I was slightly surprised by the question which seemed quite out of the blue. “He trusts you, I suppose.”

“No.” Marei shook her head. “He knows you cannot help me, and he wants to remind us both of that fact.”

“I will help you,” I told her, guilt lacing through me for my neglect the past few weeks. “I promised, didn’t I?”

Marei seemed skeptical, hugging her arms around herself. “Have you had any more luck with deactivating the implant?”

“No, I’m sorry,” I told her, rubbing my forehead. “I’ve been distracted lately – trying to stop a war between the Tusken Raiders and moisture farmers.”

“Don’t let Jabba know that,” Marei warned me. “War is profitable.”

“Jabba’s not involved in this is he?” I asked. “Riling up the Tuskens to agitate the farmers so they retaliate?”

“I don’t know,” Marei shook her head. “Jabba had a Tusken working for him once – he’d been exiled from the tribe for some reason. Ar’tk was his name. He always said the Tuskens hated the farmers, but they’d only attack if they knew they could win. They scare easily, especially if they’re outnumbered.”

That was surprising intelligence, and I leaned forward on my chair. “Is this Ar’tk still at the Palace?”

“No,” Marei said sadly. “He didn’t take to life there well, but nor could he go home. There is only one way to escape Jabba the Hut.” She touched the back of her neck lightly, where the implant remained burrowed into her skin.

I shuddered thinking about it, and although Marei has been strong all the years she’s been a slave I worry for her resolve. “I will find another way,” I promised again. “If you know who keeps the codes for the deactivator wands, perhaps I could pluck it from their mind.”

“Only Jabba knows those.” Marei looked away.

“Well, the answer is there,” I assured her. “I just have to find it.”

Marei was silent for a few moments, biting her lip as she stared out my window as if deep in thought. I watched her with deepening concern – the bruise around her throat, the slight nervous tremor in her hands and the thin, sallow skin that cling tight to her bones. When she turned back to face me, she was full of unexpected determination.

“I know the Tusken language,” she said, her voice firm. “Ar’tk taught me, with the help of Jabba’s protocol droid. I could help you negotiate with them.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other nervously when I did not respond. “I do not have your experience, but I have listened to Jabba conduct business for years, and I have learned much. If you give me a chance-”

“Marei,” I stood, holding up my hands to stop her. “Do not mistake my surprise for skepticism.” I approached, as always careful not to touch her in case it made her uncomfortable. “I would welcome your help, but are you sure you want to risk it? Jabba’s wrath would be terrible.”

Marei looked up at me, tilting her chin. “I have asked much of you, Ben, and you offered help without a second thought. I have never known such kindness or bravery, so should I not follow your example?”

“You need do nothing to earn my assistance,” I told her gently. “You have it.”

“I know,” she said, a new fire replacing her former listlessness. “I want to help – for you, for that little boy you watch over, for Ar’tk and all my slave sisters who have died with their hands still bound.”

It was defiance, I realised. An act which was not ordered or forced, but done of her own free will, to prove to herself that she could.

The people here continue to surprise me, Qui-Gon. Although lacking the sophistication of the Core, they have a steely resolve and fierce hearts and are in many ways the betters of those like myself who rose through opportunity and grace.

In many ways, perhaps it makes Tatooine the perfect place to rear a young Jedi.


Ben Kenobi

 

Excellent with Marei's resolve and Ben's as well to continue seeking a solution. A mission to Kiffu? Quinlan ...

 

Great update. I really like Ben's comparison of Tatooine to the core and the fact that maybe the planet isn't so bad after all.

 

Tatooine teaches Obi-Wan to be humble and to look with his heart at things.

Marei will hopefully not set free by death but by Obi-Wan. Handy that she has knowledge of the Tusken language.

 

Just caught up on your wonderful story. I love the contrast between Leia and Luke - she, in ways that surprised me, is her father's daughter; headstrong, assertive, a cut-to-the-chase kind of person, and Luke can be the peacemaker and negotiator that his mother was. It's so interesting to see them described in this light since so often the emphasis is on the Leia/Padme and the Luke/Anakin connections.

Likewise, the comparison between the elegance and grace of Alderaan and the rough beauty of Tatooine is impressive. Obi-wan has grown so much now that he can finally see the subtle beauty of Tatooine. I love Rooh; she's such a sweetheart. The idea that it was Rooh who alerted Obi-wan to the dangerous situation that Luke found himself in is priceless. She truly, literally is a mother avian. I also like how you showed the raw emotions of Owen and Beru - how they showed their fear over Luke's predicament in different ways. Owen tries to move others to action - go get a rescue party and then take on the Tusken Raiders to head off more trouble. Beru seeks comfort in the emotional support of others. They both love Luke so desperately.

The scene with Luke sitting next to the shaman is very telling and I'm not certain Obi-wan appreciated what he was seeing here. Luke apparently walked into the village and he managed to get the attention of the shaman himself. He actually seemed to be making headway with the tribe. Yes, his hands were bound, but that doesn't seem to be something that they did to actually restrain him. In a weird way, it reminded me a bit of the Bible story of Jesus in the temple, where he wandered off from his family and they found him talking with the elders of the temple.
Luke seems to be showing early signs of the persuasiveness that he becomes famous for later. And again, the contrast - his father entered the sandpeople's village to free a captive, and his rage destroyed it. Luke enters the sandpeople's village to willingly give himself up as a captive but with the intention of saving it (and the homesteaders) from a senseless war that would destroy them both. A really powerful scene when you think about it.

And Marei - poor girl. I feel so drawn to her. There's a tragic backstory here. How awful for a Zeltron, who physically feels emotions, to have to live with the corruption and evil of Jabba's palace. It's not enough that she is abused physically and sexually, as a Zeltron she has to deal with the physical agony of the emotional abuse. She is literally disposable. The comment about her sister slaves going to their deaths with their hands bound - what horror. Her life must be a living hell. I wonder if she survived the sand barge (was she on it? I don't recall).

My apologies once again for falling so shamefully behind on this awesome fic.

 

caught up with this and love it

 

Thank you!

Thank you! Tatooine is growing on him.

It is a good place for reflection and self-examination, which Obi-Wan needs at this time.

[quoteMarei will hopefully not set free by death but by Obi-Wan. Handy that she has knowledge of the Tusken language.[/quote]


A bit of a plot contrivance, I admit, but in Star Wars we can always explain it away with the will of the Force

If there was any doubt that Jabba was an out and out scumbag... Marei has had such a sad life, and very few people have shown true concern or affection for her, that Jabba believes she is fully broken. Instead its given her a deep empathy and willingness to help others even as others have refused to help her (or in Obi-Wan's case, has promised and is yet to deliver.)

Sadly, the only way to leave Jabba's service Marei was talking about is death - Ar'tk took his own life.

I wrote in another fic that harsh climates breed hard hearts for soft ones - the latter of course is Luke, although it also bred into him hard work, sacrifice and ingenuity.

There's a lot of meta on tumblr about how much Luke and Leia resemble their parents, and which one. I think they each have a good mix of both, although of course there are environmental factors with Leia also being a great deal like Bail, and Luke like Beru.

I really love Rooh - it breaks my heart to think Obi-Wan had absolutely no one, so I like to think she was a good companion for him for many years. It's usual for a fastidious personality type like Obi-Wan's to have an affinity for animals, but I think he does given what we see in ROTS. He's become much more attune with his surroundings and the natural world than he once was, since Tatooine is environment that demands respect.

I think Luke was the most loved, even if he didn't always realise it, mistaking his aunt and uncle's fear and concern for an attempt to stifle him. But they raised him right.

Interesting! I hadn't thought about it that way, but yes it is similar in some ways. Luke is reckess even this young, happy to walk into the lairs of dragons if he think it will help others. That self-confidence and belief of "I've got this" is a part of Luke's personality that I often think gets overlooked.

And yes, you're right about Obi-Wan not fully appreciating Luke's achievement - he was too worried and fearful to really grasp it, I think.

I do think Luke and Anakin are contrasts more than they are reflections of each other, and I wonder if six year old Anakin would have done something similar in the same situation - but then of course Anakin had a greater reason to hate the galaxy even from the beginning. He had to watch his mother die, Luke only heard stories about it. And yet as they grew up they faced the same path of light and dark after great losses, and made different choices.

We get a glimpse of that evil environment in ROTJ with Oola and Leia, and I can't imagine what it would be like to live with that for years, especially as her species. She has never known anything else, which makes her situation all the more tragic.

Thank you for your thoughtful review!

Thank you!

 

Tags: @Findswoman @gaarastar58 @Briannakin


Entry 12

Dear Qui-Gon,

Since I am still alive to write these words, you can assume that all went well at the Tusken camp. Although perhaps “well” is not the best way to describe it - “better than it could have been” is a more apt description.

Marei was an asset. The girl was nervous, which was to be expected - as was I! I had informed her of the intricacies of the dispute as well as I knew them, and she provided insight into Tusken culture - body language, a rise in voice pitch to indicate aggression, their fear of krayt dragons and the special bonding between a ranger and their bantha.

Although the Tuskens were suspicious when we arrived at their camp, Marei was able to convey her willingness to act as a translator and this seemed to satisfy them. I’m sure they wondered how she knew their language but if she told them I will never know, their grunts and gruff words as intelligible to me as ever.

We sat before the Shaman once again, and through the Force I could sense his agitation as he greeted us.

Marei turned to me. “He asks what you could have to say they have not already heard.”

I had never been sure of the Shaman’s comprehension of Basic, but it seems that they have understood my words far more than I have theirs. When I spoke, Marei translated for me anyway and I was glad for that, as perhaps she would be able to phrase things in Tusken that could not be conveyed in Basic. I told him of my wish for peace, that I was not a farmer nor a demon, and that I had only drawn my lightsaber to protect Luke.

The Shaman made a low-pitched sound, the large black goggles over his eyes and swathes of fabric over his face concealing all. He spoke to Marei, a short question it seemed.

“He asks where your tribe is, if you have no allegiance here.”

A pain that would never cease. “They’re dead,” I told him. “There were thousands in my tribe, spread across the stars. But they are all gone now, hunted down by the Empire.”

The Shaman cocked his head, and then beat a fist against his chest twice. The other gathered Tuskens followed suit, and I could hear a mourning wail from the women gathered near the huts. It was sympathy from a people to whom their tribe was everything, and to be isolated from them worse than death. Even though they must have guessed that one of my people had once slaughtered theirs by the blade I carried, they still felt for me.

“Thank you,” I said, looking around at all of them in acknowledgement.

The Shaman spoke again, and I looked to Marei for a translation, trying not to see her pity, to feel her empathy wash over me like a warm summer tide.

“He asks why you care for the boy, if he is not your tribe.”

“I suppose...Luke is.” I looked down at my hands, the skin red and cracked from the constant heat and dry air. “I am not his father, nor his guardian. But in a way he is the only one of my tribe left.”

Not technically, of course. There is still Yoda, and I am sure there are other scattered Jedi out there in the galaxy, hiding like I am. But in my heart, and in every way that counts, Luke is it. One day he will be The Last, even if everything works out for the best.

Negotiations went better after that, and I believe they stopped seeing me as an enemy. However, they certainly did not see me as a friend.

“Farmers are all the same,” Marei said, translating the Shaman’s response when I assured him I could broker a peace. “They steal and hoard water rather than revere it, and their offences grow with each passing year, encroaching on the ancient lands.”

“Please ask him which areas in particular,” I said, unrolling the map I had brought with me. “Perhaps we can work out a boundary.”

The Shaman shook his head and waved one hand in clear dismissal, his words clipped and short.

“There can be no treaty with those who lack honour,” Marei translated. “Those who...steal from the sky gods. They are never content, they always want more than they need, and they will never learn.”

“The farmers are not all the same,” I said to the Shaman. “You saw it yourself in the boy who came unaccompanied and alone into your camp. He was worried for the sake of his family and community, and that concern was stronger than his fear. He believed that there could be peace between his people and yours, and risked his life to try and achieve it.”

The camp fell quiet, and the Shaman sat still while Marei relayed my message. He stared at me for a few moments, or so I assume since I could not actually see his eyes, and whether he was angry or I had broken though was impossible to know. Then he began to speak, low utterances, and Marei took a moment before translating.

“You said the boy was your tribe, so it is not the same,” she told me. “He is not one of them.”

I grimaced. “He is both,” I suggested. “And either he will grow still believing that there can be peace, or that despite his efforts the Tuskens cannot be reasoned with, as his Uncle believes. Young Luke will grow into a community leader, not truly a farmer, but not an offworlder either. Someone who respects your people, unless circumstances convince him otherwise.”

Marei began to speak, gesturing to me with her hands and then the Tusken tribe. But her words continued long after the time it would have taken to translate my message, so clearly she had gone off script. But I wasn’t about to interject – the Shaman seemed to be listening intently, every so often glancing at me.

When she finished the Shaman conversed quietly with his people, and I looked to Marei for an explanation. She shook her head ever so slightly, her eyes still fixed on the Shaman, and I followed her example.

When he turned back to us, the Shaman jabbed at the map I had provided, indicating the ridge where the farmers were starting to build new fields of vaporators. This meaning was plain enough – I had to convince them to stop, and keep to their existing lands. That was why they had started raiding again, but my earlier offer to enforce firm boundaries had been rebuffed. Whatever Marei had said to them must have been more convincing.

Marei stood, and I did the same – our audience was over. She said a few words, one I recognised as the equivalent of thanks, and I repeated it to the Shaman, nodding my head in acknowledgement.

He nodded once in return, then pointed to the exit of the camp. We obeyed, and were a fair distance from the camp before Marei spoke to me.

“I must go,” she said, looking to the north, where a trek across the wastes would lead her back to Jabba’s Palace. For anyone else, the journey would be perilous but not even the Sand People dared risk Jabba’s wrath by accosting one of his slaves.

“What did you say to them?” I asked.

Marei smiled, and touched my arm lightly. “Your words worked – they sensed strength in Luke, that was why they did not kill him when he walked into their camp. I simply told them that you were not to be underestimated, that you had defied Jabba the Hutt himself with no fear, and brokered a favourable deal with him – after that convincing the farmers to heed would be easy. I also said that you were a great warrior, and they were right to fear your blade if they did not agree to terms.”

“I see,” I told her, not entirely happy to win through fear.

“The Tuskens respect strength,” Marei said, frowning slightly. “It was the only way you were going to reach an accord with them.”

“I do not mean to sound ungrateful.” I realised my error and took her hand, patting it lightly. “Thank you, Marei, truly. You have saved many lives today, and I could not have done this without you.”

“There is little a slave can be proud of in her life.” Marei smiled sadly. “Because even if she has the good fortune to serve an honourable master, no deed is through her own free will.”

“But this was,” I murmurred, understanding. “It was your choice, and therefore your achievement. The first of many in your life, my dear. You will not be a slave forever.”

She looked up at me, her eyes bright, that sad smile unchanged as if she didn’t believe me. Marei said no more, simply withdrew her hand and walked away.

I must now put every effort into keeping that promise. I swear, Qui-Gon, that by the time I return from the mission to Kiffu, I will have a plan.


Obi-Wan Kenobi

 

Superb negotiating and indispensable assistance from Marei. Definitely there is a sense and cause of distrust towards the farmers who, on their part though, are trying to maintain their livelihood. A concrete tangible boundary should help matters stay calm.

 

I love Marei. She is so intelligent and resourceful. I really hope that Obi-wan can figure out a way to deactivate her implant; she deserves to see the universe.

The negotiations were fascinating. Both sides managed to convey the issues and problems without resorting to fear and hyperbole, and they came to an understanding. Of course, Marei's use of implied threats didn't hurt, but an implied threat is much better than outright war. Now the next trick is to get the farmers to respect the Sandpeople's requests.

 

Thank you! Both sides have their points of view, as Obi-Wan if so fond of! It's one of those disputes where no one is clearly in the right.

As good as Obi-Wan is, local knowledge always helps, and Marei's seen many a negotiation go down in Jabba's Palace as well as having the superior experience with Sand People - she certainly could teach him a few things and Obi is the kind of man who is always willing to learn.

I've grown so fond of writing her, and she is blossoming as her confidence grows, and of course she is getting the warranted validation that she's never really had before.

She's had so much disappointment that getting her hopes up seems foolish although she trusts Obi-Wan to do the best he can to keep his promise. But she knows Jabba's still holding all the cards, and he's a cheat.

Slavery is horrible in all forms, but made even worse because it prevents people from truly acting on their own and making use of their talents as Marei has been denied a chance to do great things, and forced to dance (and worse) instead. She could make a great politician, or advisor, or anything else if she was given the chance to try.

Tags: @Findswoman @gaarastar58 @Briannakin

Entry 13

Dear Qui-Gon,

Kiffu is an interesting planet, although perhaps a bit too volatile for my taste. When close in orbit to her sister planet Kiffex the most incredible electrical storms are produced, bright bolts of lighting streaking constantly through the sky. A phenomenal sight perhaps, but the noise wears a bit thin.

I hadn’t had the best luck tracking my quarry, a Pa'lowick in the employ of Jabba’s rival Gardulla the Hutt. The ongoing feud between them kept many a bounty hunter occupied over the years.

But that was not what had brought me to a bar housed at the top of a great tower in the city where a transparisteel dome allowed for viewing of the electrical storms – I was assured that an outer shield prevented the building itself from being struck. I had sensed another presence, muted and slightly distorted, but still recognisable and I have to admit, immensely comforting.

Quinlan Vos was seated at the edge of the room, feet up on the table before him as he gazed out at the lighting storm which lit up the yellow sky. I wasn’t sure it was him at first, his black hair cut short and his once muscular physique somewhat diminished. But as I reached him, the yellow tattoos on his face and presence in the Force gave no doubt as to his identity.

I waited for him to glance up from his drink and notice me, which took almost a full minute. No doubt he knew I was there but perhaps he thought I would go away and leave him alone if unacknowledged.

“Kenobi,” he said eventually, as he looked up with something of his old charm. “You’re alive then.”

“And you Vos,” I said, taking a seat next to him even though he did not offer it. “Thank the Force.”

Vos snorted into his drink. “I don’t think we have much to thank the Force for at all these days.”

I wasn’t surprised by his attitude, given his descent during the last days of the Clone Wars. His love for and ultimate loss of Asajj Ventress had deeply wounded him, perhaps even more than his fall to the dark side. I have to admit I’m not quite sure he ever fully recovered from that, although I did not sense any lingering darkness in him.

“So you’re a bounty hunter now?” Vos asked, looking at my attire with a smirk. “I’ll be honest with you, Obi-Wan, I don’t quite believe my eyes.”

“You’re right not to,” I told him, relaxing slightly and indicating to the serving droid to bring me and Vos another drink.

“Oh?” He seemed interested. “You’re not a Jedi anymore, I know that.”

“I will be a Jedi till the day I die,” I challenged him, surprised by my own vehemence.

Vos began to laugh, throwing his head back. “Ah, Kenobi. I am happy to see you.” His gloom seemed to dissipate, and I saw again the man I had known before the darkness had taken him. “So what are you doing here, dressed like that?” he asked, taking a fresh cup from the serving droid and clinking it against mine.

“Can I trust you, Vos?” I asked, leaning closer to him. “I’m being serious.”

He stared at me for a few moments, and when he said yes I believed him.

“Anakin had a son,” I told him, my voice hushed. “He’s being raised by family on Tatooine and I am watching over him. I’m chasing bounties for Jabba to keep the boy safe.”

Rather than being surprised by the knowledge, Vos nodded his head in understanding. “The Senator? I always thought there was something between them.”

“The boy must be protected at all costs,” I told him.

Vos chuckled and shook his head. “You think one boy is going to bring down the Empire someday? You’re an idealist, Kenobi.”

“Perhaps,” I said. “But it’s better than the alternative.”

Taking a long drink, Vos became somber again. “Do you ever wonder if any of it was worth it?” He sighed and looked up at the storm above, the lightning dancing around the domed roof. “Ventress died to save my life, but what was the point? Any battles I won were made worthless by the rise of the Empire, so what was it for?”

I didn’t have an answer for him – it was a question I asked myself constantly. “I don’t know Vos,” I told him. “But if I can keep this boy safe, it will be worth it.”

He seemed to accept that, and we drank in silence for a few moments before Vos spoke again. “I can guarantee I’m a better bounty hunter than you, Kenobi.”

“I do not doubt it.”

“So tell me about your bounty,” he said, patting me on the arm. “And I’ll help you.”

I gave him all the details, including my failed attempts at tracking which seemed to amuse Vos greatly. Unfortunately I did not have any objects belonging to the bounty so he could use his psychometry but his insights and local knowledge were invaluable. After many drinks we felt like old friends, not that we’d ever been close, but I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be with another Jedi. It was like reuniting with long-lost family.

Eventually I told him about my quandary with Marei, hoping he could bring his rogue point of view to the situation I had failed to remedy.

“Have you considered simply buying her?” Quinlan asked when I had finished relating the tale.

I was surprised, and it was a few moments before I could respond. “No…I actually hadn’t thought of that.”

Quinlan shrugged and took another sip of his drink. “Seems to be the simplest solution.”

I remembered that it was the same method Cliegg Lars had used to obtain Shmi’s freedom, and I was slightly perturbed that the option had never crossed my mind.

“There is a difference, I think,” I said carefully, “between helping someone escape slavery, and simply purchasing them in order to set them free. An inherent disrespect, an acknowledgement of the system that binds her.”

“Do you think the manner of obtaining freedom matters at all to her?” Quinlan asked, his features set in a frown. “Think of it this way – say you discover the key to neutralizing her tracker, and help her flee the planet. The girl will spend the rest of her life watching the shadows, fearing that every bounty hunter she sees is there for her. She will never truly feel free.”

“But allowing Jabba to profit from this?” I queried. “To contribute to his slave trade, in effect to legitimise it? It seems wrong.”

“You are a man of great compassion, Obi-Wan,” Quinlan said with a shake of his head. “But all too often that is at war with your principles.”

I stroked my chin, almost offended by the insinuation. “I don’t see the two as mutually exclusive.”

“Of course they’re not,” Quinlan said with a smile and I think he was humoring me. “But you’re so concerned with your lofty ideals and proper way something should be done, you forget we live in an unjust galaxy and don’t see that the practical solution is often the best.”

I took another drink, and blamed the alcohol for my inability to come up with a response.

“Tell me this,” he continued. “Do you think slavery is legitimate, that the practice is in any way a natural law? Do you think you would actually own this girl if you paid Jabba for her?”

“Of course not.”

“So she is not a slave, she is a prisoner,” Quinlan reasoned. “And if paying a ransom is the only way to get a prisoner released, so be it.”

“Maybe it’s the drink, Vos,” I said. “But you’re starting to make sense.”

“Of course I am,” he patted my arm again fondly. “But I think you’ve had enough. Come on, you can stay at my place.”

“But Jabba won’t just let me buy her freedom,” I argued, although I let Quinlan pull me to my feet and hold me steady when the room spun slightly. “If only out of spite.”


“So you get someone else to buy her for you,” Quinlan reasoned, throwing credits on the table for our drinks. “Lucky for you, I’m ready to get back in the hero business.”

Or at least that's what I think he said. I confess I don't remember it exactly.

Obi-Wan Kenobi

 

love to see Vos and Kenobi and their planning

 

Loved seeing Quinlan and Obi-Wan working together! Obi-wan needs a bit of a rogue to help him see the edges of things, such as the solution to Marei's predicament. Quinlan is right; Marei will never feel secure if she escapes. It has to be an official break from Jabba. I just hope that he can save her in time, before Jabba sells her to some far less scrupulous being or simply kills her for the entertainment of watching her suffer.

The description of the electrical storm was very cool. I can imagine such a spectacular sight must have impressed Obi-Wan.

 

Great discussion and nice to see Vos again. Very thought-provoking questions and genuine feelings -- i.e., if everything you fight for is thwarted by the rise of a dictatorship, is everything you've sacrificed and lost worth it?

 

Argh, I missed two updates! How could I!

*almost goes unconscious

But I am happy this diary is back and I am not that dreadfully behind. I started reading the "Ventress & Vos" novel recently and when you mentioned Kriffu, I thought: "Could Quinlan still be alive?"

And there he is, straight written in one of the best conversation scenes ever. I especially liked:


“Maybe it’s the drink, Vos,” I said. “But you’re starting to make sense.”

“Of course I am,” he patted my arm again fondly. “But I think you’ve had enough. Come on, you can stay at my place.”