Saga Turn Your Face to the Sun (DDC 2015: Obi-Wan) COMPLETE, and please vote for your fave DD2015 fic!

Trouble for the Lars family. I hope Obi-Wan can help

 

I worry for Luke when he grows, that he will not have such close friendships. There are a few children close to his age in Anchorhead, or so Beru tells me, but birthdays are not marked on Tatooine – at least amongst the farming community. I gather than most cannot afford such festivities; the only event on which precious resources are spent being one's wedding.

It is nice of Obi-Wan to worry, but his worries are not appreciated by everybody as it seems.

 

I caught up (again!) on the last two entries.

21 May: This was d'awww and squee all over the place. Baby Luke is just perfect and now I want to go and visit my niece downstairs, but of course she's already asleep. There was the usual Obi-Wan LOL moment ("The woman already thinks of me as some crazy wizard, telling her that I do in fact have two others to talk to, but one is dead and the other is halfway across the galaxy may not improve my standing" ) and Beru's kindness and compassion really touched my heart.

And this:

... was also very touching, even more so after I read the next entry, when it becomes clear that Beru and Owen may actually need Obi-Wan's presence, but the thought hasn't even crossed her mind.

28 May: Well, Kenobi may be the Great Negotiator, but this exchange:

... was definitely a misstep. He doesn't seem to have entirely understood that Beru and Owen aren't just looking after Luke -- the three of them are a family now, and there's no going back. *thinks of the Old Republic Jedi and rolls eyes*
I'm very, very curious to see what is happening behind the scenes here. There's any number of bullies on Tatooine that could be causing trouble for the Larses, and there's a lot of potential for Ben to engage into "aggressive negotiations."

 

Thanks everyone for reading and commenting!

Obi-Wan's first priority is Luke, and he's going to make sure that he's safe over and above anything else.

And they say nothing ever happens on Tatooine...

Well, the mystery will be solved in the very next entry, but I wanted to keep it ambiguous to start with, since Obi-Wan's completely in the dark. You are right though, they are on civil terms now, but a break in the relationship is coming...

I love writing baby!Luke, it's a real doll.

Yep, even if they don't want Obi-Wan's help, he's going to find a way.

He's going to make sure he does! He didn't exile himself to the desert to let anyone get in his way

Owen and Beru are very protective of him, since they have to guard his secret, which is sad for lonely little Luke.

I think they're of a quite similar temperament and would really get along well and enjoy each other's company.

Absolutely - as smart as Obi-Wan is, he was still brought up to believe that everything of that sort was dangerous, and he feels what happened with Anakin only proved those teachings right. It's very sad, but I don't think Obi-Wan ever quite "got it" at least until after he was dead and watched Luke prove him wrong.

Ah, yes, the rift! It is coming (eventually) but while Luke is young and probably wont remember Owen and Beru are more likely to allow Obi-Wan to hang around.

Well, I think she had thought that they may need his help, but there's a good reason they've refused it

[/quote]28 May: Well, Kenobi may be the Great Negotiator, but this exchange:

... was definitely a misstep. He doesn't seem to have entirely understood that Beru and Owen aren't just looking after Luke -- the three of them are a family now, and there's no going back. *thinks of the Old Republic Jedi and rolls eyes*
I'm very, very curious to see what is happening behind the scenes here. There's any number of bullies on Tatooine that could be causing trouble for the Larses, and there's a lot of potential for Ben to engage into "aggressive negotiations."[/quote]

Oh, yes, even the best negotiators misstep on occasion - as you say, he's not quite grasped that they are not just Luke's caretakers now but his family, they love him and aren't about to give him up.

 

Tags: Findswoman, K'Tai qel Letta-Tanku, serendipityaey


Dear Qui-Gon,

I am sure that you have been watching over the events of the past few days, since they have been the most harrowing and dangerous of my time here on Tatooine. Clearly I have come out of it unscathed, for am able to write these words! But I find the transcription to be just as helpful as meditation in making sense of my new life here under the twin suns, and I am sure you will want to know what I was thinking. It was a risk, and perhaps Qui-Gon you approve of me. I know Yoda was not impressed, as he so informed me during our most recent commune. But I recall your wont to gamble, particularly when the stakes are high, and flatter myself that you would have made the same choices.

But I am getting ahead of myself. I took your advice regarding the issue at the Lars farm and spent my days is distant observation. Of course I continued to visit Beru and Luke every few days and did not question her as she indicated when my presence would not be required. She was full of easy excuses – visits planned by her sister Dama in Anchorhead or her friends the Darklighter’s at their own nearby farm.

On those days I made sure to sequester myself on the nearest ridge armed with drinking water, a hat and a pair of macrobinoculars. The conditions were harsh but I was determined not to move from my position in case I missed some vital clue which would reveal the reason for the Lars’ distress.

I watched Owen tend to the barren fields where the moisture vaporators pulled what little they could from the atmosphere. It was harvest season and Owen was busy, toiling away all the daylight hours with the few droids he had for assistance. Although I know little about farming to my eyes the harvest seems bountiful, which was at odds with the family’s impoverished conditions. This solidified in my mind that there were external forces at play, and I watched all visitors to the homestead over the course of a week.

Most I recognized – Dama Whitesun, Huff Darklighter and his young son Biggs, the Loneozner couple who ran Tosche station. I had vetted all of those in Beru’s circle, although I had never met any of them other than in passing in Anchorhead – Owen did not think it best to introduce me and I agreed. They were simple folk who would not question Owen and Beru’s story about poor Shmi’s son, who had been making his living out in the stars and left behind an infant boy. Luckily Anakin had been a secret Shmi had kept close to her heart, and news of the Clone Wars had been scant to reach Tatooine. These desert-dwellers seemed to take no side, and had no concern for the galaxy falling apart outside their borders. Many of them had never even heard of the Jedi, let alone The Hero with No Fear or his origins among them. The only connection these people have with the name Skywalker was Shmi, and the fact that Luke inherited her name was unsurprising and of little interest to them.

However, there was one set of visitors that gave me cause for concern. They came from the Dune Sea, a human male wearing rancor hide and a bulky Gammorean in a dusty speeder. Owen saw them too, and I watched him hurry down from the south ridge so he could make it inside the homestead.

I was anxious to join them as well, but clearly Owen and Beru had not wanted my help. I had to reason that there was just cause for this, and I would perhaps walk into a situation without knowing that facts and therefore make the matter worse. Although I desperately wanted to know what was happening inside that homestead I forced myself into inaction – to watch and to wait.

The visitors stayed perhaps half an hour, although it seemed like a lifetime. When they left it was towards Anchorhead, although the plains between the Lars homestead were too open and if I followed I would surely be detected. I readied Rooh for travel, and waited until I sighted the speeder again some time later, travelling back across the Dune Sea and through the Jundland Wastes. Rooh was thankfully swift, eager for the run after a day of inactivity.

When the speeder docked at the great palace of Jabba the Hutt, I was unsurprised. Who else could be responsible for such suffering, leaving Owen and Beru without recourse? In my isolation I had forgotten how cruelly the Hutts ruled Tatooine, although I had thought the Lars’ small farm would be beneath their notice – evidently not.

I watched Jabba’s goons over several days, making the rounds in Anchorhead and the surrounding farms. It was extortion, pure and simple, and I no longer wondered why Beru’s storecupboard was bare. And yet what could I do about it, without exposing my identity and threatening Luke’s safety? However I knew I could not stand idly and allow it to continue – I needed to formulate a plan.

When I next visited Beru I waited for her to relax, pretending not to notice her gaunt face or that she had no tea to offer me. I had been to Anchorhead and used the last of my credits to buy supplies – cured bantha meat, flatbreads and dune beans. I placed the food on the table and took Luke from Beru, commanding her to eat.

“You look as thin as a Kaminoan,” I told her in a tone that did not warrant argument.

However this did not stop Beru. “You presume too much, Ben,” she said softly, with her eyes downcast.

“No,” I told her. “I presume just enough.”

“It is not our way to accept charity,” Beru’s voice was brittle, and when she looked up at me her eyes were bright with tears. “And yet I am grateful, for Luke’s sake.”

“It’s not for Luke,” I told her, bouncing the young boy in the crook of my arm. As usual, he had stuck his sticky fingers into my beard, but I tolerated it for my attention was for his caregiver. “I can tell he is well fed, I suspect with food meant to be shared between all three of you.”

Beru nodded, although she seemed not to have heard me. “Owen has been working so hard in the fields, he will appreciate the extra strength this will provide.”

“It’s not for Owen either,” I told her sternly. “At least not all of it. I am going to sit here until you eat a decent meal, Beru.”

In the end she took little convincing – probably from her obvious hunger which had left her weak and frail. She took small bites of the flatbread, as if rationing the meal to last as long as possible. Then she ate the dune beans one by one, and finally she cut off a slice of the cured bantha meat and nibbled on it like a bird.

“I know about Jabba,” I said when she had finished eating to my satisfaction.

Beru paled and trembled, struggling to maintain her composure. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the two goons who came to see you last week,” I said. “Who then visited the Darklighters and the Gamoots and the Loneozners and the Sunseekers. It’s them ho have been taking a cut from your harvest, leaving you with barely anything to live on isn’t it?”

Beru nodded, nervous patting down the braids in her hair. “Our farm used to be too small to bother with, but the harvest was good this year." She sighed, and I could sense she was relieved to unburden herself. "Owen tried to explain that we have an extra mouth to feed now, but it was no use. They say that Jabba protects us from the Empire, and so we must show our gratitude.”

Luke had started to whimper in my arms, his keen senses picking up on his aunt’s distress. I soothed him by brushing back his soft hair and sending a calming wave through the Force.

“And if you don’t pay?” I asked.

Beru bit her lip, taking a moment before answering as it clearly upset her. “The Sandspinners a few farms over refused, and a squad of stormtroopers raided their homestead only a week later.”

Of course Jabba was in collusion with the Imperial forces, I realised. They wanted use of the trading routes in Hutt space, and so likely permitted him to continue to govern as he saw fit, sending as squad troops when he asked to do whatever dirty work required of them.

“So you see you cannot help,” Beru insisted. “There is nothing you can do.”

“There is always something to be done,” I promised her, although the situation was difficult. I held Luke closer to me, and tried to soothe him further but the boy was agitated, flailing about in my arms and unwilling to be calmed.

There was a great clattering from outside, and I heard the sound of heavy footsteps on stone. Owen ran into the room, red and panting, taking in my presence, and I felt a sharp spike of fear.

“Get out of here, Kenobi,” he growled, stepped forward and roughly grabbing Luke, who had begun to cry in earnest. “They can’t find you here.”

“They are here?” Beru stood, her face stricken with fear. “But they are not due to collect until next week!”

“I don’t know,” Owen said, grabbing my arm and leading me towards the back of the homestead. “I don’t want any lip, Kenobi, go out the back way so you won’t be seen.”

I wasn’t going to protest, but when I reached the rear entrance I found the way blocked by the Gammorean, who growled at me and pointed with his axe that I should return to the main room. When I did Beru was holding the bawling Luke to her chest, trying to soothe him while Owen was arguing with the human goon in rancor hide armor.

“Where’d you get the creds for this, eh?” Rancor-hide sifted through the remaining food I had brought on the table. “You been holding out on us, Lars?”

“It was a gift,” Beru tried to explain.

“Ain’t no one around here who can afford to buy you food,” Rancor-hide ransacked the store cupboard to see what else he could find. The Gammorean behind me grunted, drawing Rancor-hide’s attention. He narrowed his eyes as he turned, scrutinizing my appearance. “Who are you, then?”

Owen cleared his throat. “That’s my brother, Ben. Visiting from Mos Espa.”

“Bearing gifts?” Rancor-hide’s smile was vicious. “So that’s your Eopie outside, then?”

“That’s right,” I said, affecting the best ‘Rim accent I could. I remember Anakin used to mimic my Coruscanti accent all the time as a boy, and when I tried to repay the favor he laughed and said I sounded like a dying frog.

Rancor-hide seemed unconvinced, and he turned to Beru. “Is that right, little lady?” he leered at her. “Has your brother in law been bringing you gifts while your husband is working the farm?”

Owen lunged at Rancor-hide, but the goon was too quick for him, landing a punch to his cheek and sending him sprawling to the floor. I tried to assist, but found myself restrained by the Gammorean.

Rancor-hide laughed, and approached me with a smile that showed his yellowed teeth. “You know, I almost could believe you could be his brother,” he said conversationally. “You look a bit alike. But I know you from somewhere else.”

“Do you go to the podracing in Mos Espa?” I asked in a last-ditch attempt at misdirection. “I have a stall there.”

“No,” Rancor-hide shook his head, and retrieved a datapad from his robe. He spent a few minutes flicking through various pages, and my heart sank as I realised what he was doing. Owen had picked himself up from the floor and taken Beru and Luke into his arms, embracing them protectively and shooting me an accusing look from behind Rancor-hide’s back.

“Here you are,” Rancor-hide stopped scrolling through is datapad, and then held the screen up next to my face. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight. Wanted for high treason against the Empire. That’s you, eh?”

“No,” I told him firmly, planting the lie in his mind. “My name is Ben.”

For a moment it almost worked, but Rancor-hide shook his head and cast off my Force probe. “Don’t try anything funny, Jedi,” he spat at me. “I’ve heard about you.”

The wild thought crossed my mind that I should call my lightsaber from within my robes to my hand, and cut down Rancor-hide and his Gammorean friend. But that would be pointless, I realised. Jabba would only send more goons, and the Lars family would be punished. But if I could at least save them…

“Fine,” I said to Rancor-hide. “I’ll come quietly – but leave them alone.” I nodded to Owen, Beru and Luke.

Rancor-hide laughed as if I’d told a particularly hilarious joke. “No way,” he said. “You’re all going to Jabba, because I think he’ll be very interested to know why a Jedi is hiding out with moisture farmers.”

The Gammorean squeezed my biceps and pushed me outside as Rancor-hide drew his blaster to force Owen and Beru to follow. Luke was screaming now, and Beru was frantically trying to calm him as they lead us outside to the speeder. I glanced over at Rooh and nodded at her to stay where she was – there was enough drinking water and shade for her at the homestead. Hopefully I would be able to return to retrieve her at some stage, but in that moment I feared I would never see the dear creature again.

As Beru was soothing Luke and Rancor-hide yelling at the Gammorean when the speeder false-started twice, Owen grabbed my arm and growled harsh words in my ear.


“This is why I told you to stay away.”

 

I do not like this at all.

 

Yikes! Oh, boy, they're in a pickle now. I have a bad feeling that this is the reason, or one of them, that Obi-Wan is no longer welcome around Luke.

I liked Owen saying Ben was his brother–nice little reference to the ROTJ novel, there.

 

My goodness! Talk about an edge of seat situation!

Kenobi couldn't certainly leave things be, but things definitely are a tangled mess of ness!

 

AHHHH! What a horrible turn of events! I can't wait to see how Obi-Wan gets them all out of this mess!

 

Uh-oh. This is not good I can't wait to read how Obi-Wan found his way out of it. The Negotiator with a capital N again?

It's interesting how you have Owen display more common sense than Ben here -- of course Jabba's people would know the face of a famous Jedi general, even if the average resident of Tatooine doesn't. Also, the crime boss being in collusion with the Empire was a nice touch.

 

This isn't good. What will Obi-Wan do?

 

“Here you are,” Rancor-hide stopped scrolling through is datapad, and then held the screen up next to my face. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight. Wanted for high treason against the Empire. That’s you, eh?”

“No,” I told him firmly, planting the lie in his mind. “My name is Ben.”

For a moment it almost worked, but Rancor-hide shook his head and cast off my Force probe. “Don’t try anything funny, Jedi,” he spat at me. “I’ve heard about you.”

Funny, that it is Obi´s "famous" past throwing its shadows on the Lars farm.

I also fear that Hutts know no end to their greed.

The Lars family will heard from the palace again, sigh!

 

I'm very interested in the impact Hutt rule had on Tatooine, and young Luke's life in particualar which adds such an interesting dimension to when he meets Jabba in ROTJ, and how effectively and rather remorselessly he destroys Jabba's court. It was such a harsh life which really shaped who Luke was, and with Jabba so close (and so ruthless) it made sense that he'd take advantage of the Empire's new regime to run a protection racket with the moisture farmers.

No, although obviously Jabba using Gammoreans as guards/muscle is from ROTJ - I don't know if they are resistant to mind tricks, but I think most of Jabba's goons wouldn't be fooled if only because they're naturally suspicious.

Is is weird that I enjoy this?

I thought it was a cute little nod - and I actually do think Ewan McGregor and Joel Edgerton having a passing similarity, so it kind of makes sense as a cover story.

He can't help himself, he's a meddler

Obi-Wan always has a plan...half a plan...kind of an idea

As strange as it is, this is much more in Obi-Wan's comfort zone than what else he's been doing Tatooine - getting out of tricky situations is one of his specialties in a way that childcare and farming are not...

I actually really love Owen, and think he's a smart, capable and practical, although his love and concern often comes across as overbearing and overprotective.

Tatooine has always seemed a bit of a strange outlier planet, not under the control of the Republic and in Hutt Space, and I think at this point the Emperor woudn't be messing with that status quo although there is the constant threat of them encroaching on Hutt territory, so for now they're in an uneasy kind of alliance.

They don't call him the Great Negotiator for nothing

The Hutts are nasty creatures, and Jabba one of the worst of them. Obi-Wan's past is catching up with him, unfortunately for the Lars', but whether Owen admits it or not, they do need his help.

 

Tags: Findswoman K'Tai qel Letta-Tanku serendipityaey

_______________________________________________

I tried to reassure Owen and Beru in the speeder ride to Jabba’s, but Owen kept his face turned deliberately away and Beru was struggling to settle poor Luke. He was sobbing, burying his wet face into the shoulder of Beru’s homespun robe while she tried to soothe him with her sweet words and the soft stroking of his hair. I would have offered to settle him with the Force, but I doubt Owen would have allowed it and my position was already precarious enough. Rancor-hide and the Gamorrean believed me to be Obi-Wan Kenobi, renegade Jedi, but they could not confirm it. Using my powers to calm Luke would leave no doubt in their minds.

“It will be alright,” I said to Beru softly as she hugged Luke close to her, rocking back and forth slightly in the seat to see if that would calm him. “Trust me, I’ve been in worse situations than this.”

She turned to me with a fierceness in her eyes. “No matter what happens, you have to protect Luke,” she told me firmly, low enough so that two goons in the front of the speeder couldn’t hear. “If you have to use your…powers to take Luke away and leave us to them, promise me you’ll do it.”

“It won’t come to that,” I assured her, although I sounded more confident than I felt.

Beru pulled Luke tighter against her and kissed the top of his head. “He’s so special,” she whispered, her words barely audible over the roar of the speeder engine. “Not in the way you think he is, though. If the worst happens…just say you’ll love him.”

I almost choked on the surge of emotion following her words. I looked down at the young boy, finally calm, his head pillowed on Beru’s breast and gazing at me with wet eyes so strikingly blue it seemed almost unnatural.

“I already do,” I told her hoarsely, and turned away with shame.

When we reached Jabba’s Palace our captors led us down into the throneroom where Jabba was giving audience. The chamber was filled with his court – the stage with the musicians and singers, the floor with the dancers plying their trade and the smugglers, pirates and various other unsavory characters milling around in discussion; trading tips and smoking death sticks. Jabba of course was the focal point of the room, puffing on his hookah with a slave girl chained to the base of his wide throne. Bu his side was his majordomo, a pale-skinned Twi’lek whose name I recalled to be Bib Fortuna.

Rancor-hide gestured to Fortuna, and the Twi’lek made his way through the crowd towards us. I’d pulled up my hood upon entering so no one else would recognize me, but the presence of a human child in Jabba’s Palace was earning from odd looks and interest from the crowd. I reached out through the Force and could not feel any ill-intent, although there was a strong sense of danger. Rather than becoming upset again, Luke looked alert and interested in his surroundings, even squirming in Beru’s arms to try and break free. It was only when Owen’s firm hand grasped his small shoulder and told him to hush that the boy stilled, although he still cast longing glances around at the crowd. The lifeforce in the room was palpable, more than he’d ever experienced, and it seemed to energise and excite him.

After a few minutes of hushed conversation, Fortuna returned to Jabba’s side to repeat the information. The Hutt seemed pleased, his large bulbous eyes locking on us and his wide mouth stretching into a smile that sent a shiver up my spine.

Jabba waved his arm and addressed the room, and through my limited Huttese and the gesture I guessed he was instructing his Court to leave. I breathed a sigh of relief, for if I was to be unmasked it would be only to a select few. Evidently Jabba didn’t trust the bounty hunters, pirates, smugglers and other criminals in his employ any more than I did - once they had the information on who I was they could easily turn around and sell it to a rival Hutt - or worse, the Empire.

To my surprise, Rancor-hide and the Gammorean also left, until all that remained were Jabba, Bib Fortuna, and the Zeltron slave girl lounging at Jabba’s feet. A black-plated protocol droid appeared from the other room to translate Jabba’s Huttese, for which I was grateful. To prevent myself from needing to repeat this each time, Qui-Gon, you can assume that the below conversation took place via that interpreter.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Jabba said. “We meet again.”

Seeing that it was foolish to deny it when Jabba had clearly recognized me, I pulled my hood down and gave him my best appeasing smile. “I go by Ben Kenobi now,” I told him.

“Your circumstances have changed,” Jabba pointed out, his massive tongue escaping his mouth to moisten his slug lips and I tried to not be repulsed. “And yet you have come again to ask for my assistance.”

“We were forced to come here,” Owen spat out somewhat petulantly, his distaste for the Hutt clear.

“And who are you?”

“Owen Lars,” he said. “My wife Beru, and our son Luke.”

Bib Fortuna leaned over to whisper to Jabba, and by enhancing my senses I heard the domo explain to Jabba that Luke was not Owen and Beru’s son but their nephew, and that his last name was Skywalker. By Jabba’s reaction, I saw he had figured out exactly who Luke was.

“I remember Skywalker,” Jabba nodded very slowly.

“He saved your son, Rotta,” I reminded Jabba, seeing an opening to perhaps play on the Hutt’s sympathies.

“And in return I gave the Republic access to Hutt trading routes. That deal was done, and do not expect further lenience because of it.”

Trying another tack, I bowed my head in deference. “We would only ask for your compassion, mighty Jabba.”

Jabba’s gaze was intent upon Luke, and to his credit the boy stared the Hutt right in the face and showed no outward fear.

“So The Hero with No Fear had a son.”

“Even if he did,” I countered, knowing that denial was pointless at this stage. “What use to you is an orphan boy?”

“The offspring of Anakin Skywalker?” Jabba asked. “He could be very dangerous to the Empire. Why else would they be hunting the Jedi down if they did not fear them? The Emperor may pay handsomely for the son of a Jedi Knight. ”

Thankfully Jabba didn’t know just how much Luke would mean to the Emperor – or to Darth Vader. “He will pay more for me,” I told him, stepping forward to block Luke from view. “If I surrender will you leave the boy alone?”

Jabba was silent for some time, and then chuckled to himself. “You are not in a position to negotiate, Kenobi,” he boasted. “What use is surrender, you are already my captive.”

“Perhaps,” I inclined my head towards him. “And yet I am for now a willing prisoner, and I could go along quietly, or I could…cause a fuss.” I drew aside my outer robe to reveal the lightsaber hanging from my belt. Jabba seemed amused by this, and so I pressed the advantage.

“I know you’ve worked out some kind of truce with the Empire, but what will happen if you turn me over, do you think Palpatine will just leave it at that?” I shook my head and smiled. “If he knew one Jedi was hiding here, perhaps he will think there were more…perhaps he would decide that it is more convenient to conquer the Hutts rather than make deals with them. The Empire is not as keen on negotiation as the Republic was.”

Jabba looked to Fortuna, who again whispered advice in his ear. I glanced at Owen and Beru, the former scowling at me and the latter looking very worried as she held Luke on one hip and stroked his hair protectively.

“Perhaps I should take the boy myself?” Jabba suggested. “I’ve never had a Jedi in my employ.”

“No!” Beru’s outburst was fierce, her lower lip trembling with rage. “You will not take him.”

“Quiet, woman!” Fortuna roared, approaching her in four strides and lifting the back of his hand up as if to strike her. Owen got there first, grasping Fortuna’s hand tightly and then punching him in the face.

“Owen,” I called warningly as Luke began to cry again. But Jabba only laughed at the pathetic form of his majordomo on the floor, felled by Owen’s powerful fist. Owen grunted and kicked at Fortuna for good measure, then stepped back to grasp Beru protectively by the shoulders. I sighed and turned back to Jabba, opening out my palms in a gesture of conciliation.

“That would be of little advantage to you.” I imbued every word with truth and purpose so that deceit could not be detected from my voice or face. “The boy is not Force sensitive.”

To their credit, neither Owen nor Beru reacted, as if sensing the purpose of my ploy. Fortuna had crawled back up to Jabba’s throne in shame, and the slave girl seemed quite amused by his injuries. Jabba, however, looked skeptical.

“They say that Skywalker had the highest midichlorian count of all the Jedi,” he countered, and I cursed Anakin’s hero reputation. Although the farming community had heard little of the Jedi, it seemed Jabba was well versed in the intricacies of the Clone Wars – it was likely more profitable that way. “Wouldn’t his offspring not have the same potential?”

I gave a shrug, clearing my mind of everything but convincing Jabba I was telling the truth. “Since Jedi rarely have children it has not been studied. I tested the boy myself, and his midichlorian count is low - far too weak to be a Jedi.”

“Then why do you bother with him?” Jabba asked, and I forced myself not to react with anger. Owen did not do so well, growling dangerously and placing one arm around Luke to draw the boy and Beru closer.

“Anakin was my friend,” I said truthfully. “It was his dying wish that I look after his son.”

Jabba studied me for a long time, searching for weakness which I refused to give him. Eventually he nodded to Fortuna, who left the room and returned a few minutes later followed by Rancor-hide and the Gammorean who between them were carrying a carved wooden box with a combination lock.

Beru’s gasp and wild look at me gave her away, and I grimaced and tried to gesture that she should stay silent. Jabba however had noticed, and started to chuckle.

“You are very persuasive, Kenobi,” he said as the goons set down the box on the floor in front of his throne. “But we will see what you are hiding.”


Beru held Luke to her and closed her eyes - she’d recognised the box from my hut, and knew the damning evidence it contained. Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber, this journal and worst of all - the results of Luke’s midichlorian test.

 

Ohh, Another cliffie! Everything was going along so well with everyone making just the right points, when Now Jabba will get to see for true and actual fact what the test revealed.

 

Another cliffie. How will Obi-Wan negotiate himself and the ones he is protecting out of Jabba's clutches?

 

It's good to see Obi-Wan so in control. He seems to be in his element now--which is unfortunate, considering his current mandate to lay low and keep Luke safe. Ouch, that cliffie.

 

Oh my gosh, this has gotten so exciting! I can totally believe that the Empire has cut a deal with Jabba. Poor Beru. What an amazing mother, to go to such lengths to protect Luke. And Owen shines too, with his protectiveness towards his wife and son. He loves them and it shows.

Such vivid writing! I can clearly see the entire scene playing out. You have an incredible knack for details that bring ths story to life. Wonderful!

I can't wait to see what happens next!

 

To my surprise, Rancor-hide and the Gammorean also left, until all that remained were Jabba, Bib Fortuna, and the Zeltron slave girl lounging at Jabba’s feet. A black-plated protocol droid appeared from the other room to translate Jabba’s Huttese, for which I was grateful. To prevent myself from needing to repeat this each time, Qui-Gon, you can assume that the below conversation took place via that interpreter.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Jabba said. “We meet again.”

Seeing that it was foolish to deny it when Jabba had clearly recognized me, I pulled my hood down and gave him my best appeasing smile. “I go by Ben Kenobi now,” I told him.

“Your circumstances have changed,” Jabba pointed out, his massive tongue escaping his mouth to moisten his slug lips and I tried to not be repulsed. “And yet you have come again to ask for my assistance.”

This stupid slug is more clever than I thought. And not only has he has a good memory but can draw dangerous conclusions. But I am afraid he has no honour and will "sell" Luke AND Obi to the highest bidder.

 

Jabba's no fool, for all of Obi-Wan's skills

I think Obi-wan is having a real identity crisis and he's only going to struggle the longer he's on Tatooine - is he still a Jedi is he is no longer serving the Republic? If he's no longer a Jedi, is he still bound by the rules he spent his entire life upholding? What else does he know how to be, if not a Jedi? Those are difficult questions and I'm not sure he ever finds the answers - but yes this event is the catalyst in more ways than one...

Even the Great Negotiator has his limits...

There's certainly a part of him that enjoys the thrill of using his wit again after so long in hiding, I think - in some ways he's far better suited to that role than protector...

I figured Obi-Wan's life had to have a bit of excitement I really, really love Owen and Beru, and they truly are a mother and father to Luke, even if they are aunt and uncle in name. I find the politics betwen Hutt Space and the Republic/Empire interesting - Palpatine probably isn't too concerned with the Outer Rim as it has little value so is happy to let the Hutts retain control...unless of course they prove a threat. The Hutts would know this, and would be cautious about testing the Empire to much.

He certainly has no honour, and will only make deals that prove advantageous to him - he's a formidable ally.

 

Tags: @Findswoman, @K'Tai qel Letta-Tanku, @serendipityaey



Jabba sat patiently on his throne, smoke from his hookah rising silently as he puffed away. Bib Fortuna examined the box which had been retrieved from my hut, trying to determine how it opened.

“How did you find that?” I asked, affronted.

Rancor-hide gave me a grin, showing his stained yellow teeth. “We followed your eopie - those creatures always go home when untethered.”

“You didn’t hurt her?” My words were steel - imprison me, ransack my home, steal my belongings, I can deal with that. But Rooh is innocent, and my only friend.

Rancor-hide hissed through his teeth. “Nah, she’s fine - but it’s you that’s got to worry, Kenobi. About yourself and that boy.”

“I told you,” I said firmly as I turned back to Jabba, imbuing my words with sincerity. “Luke is an ordinary child, no threat to you.”

“You disappoint me, Kenobi,” Jabba said via his translator droid. “Of all the Jedi you were the most revered for your honesty. How the mighty and righteous have fallen.”

“The box is locked, Master,” Bib Fortuna declared, his spindly white fingers running over the seam. “And there is a pressure bomb to deter tampering.”

I smiled, and gave Jabba a shrug. My flippancy earned me a renewed scowl from Owen, his arms still tightly around Beru and Luke.

“Give us the access code,” Jabba demanded, and did not need to elaborate on the threat.

“THX1138,” I said with resignation, knowing that resistance was useless if I had any hope of keeping the Lars family alive.

Fortuna punched in the code, leaning back just in case it exploded in his face. But the box simply popped open, and Fortuna sighed with relief as he craned open the lid to rifle through its contents. He retrieved a leather-bound journal, flipping through the pages and pausing to skim a few entries. Jabba’s droid waddled forward to retrieve it, taking it back up to Jabba so he could read it aloud to the Hutt. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Owen lean forward in curiosity, trying to overhear the droid’s words, which amused me despite the situation.

“Master,” Fortuna called out, a piece of flimsi in his hand. “This is a test for Jedi aptitude.”

Jabba’s grotesque lips pulled back into a wide smile. “You tested the boys blood for...what are they called?”

“Midichlorians.”

“Yes,” Jabba nodded. “That’s right. And how many midichlorians does a Jedi have?”

“It varies,” I stalled, throwing a quelling look to Beru, who had started to cry silently. “Most humans have around 2000 midichlorians per cell, but the Jedi accepted no one with less than 5000.”

“And the boy’s father?”

That was a question I had hoped Jabba would not ask. “Anakin had just over 20,000 per cell.”

Jabba began to laugh so hard he made himself cough. “I see why you called him the Chosen One,” he said, as his large eyes shifted to Luke. “And since he is dead, is this boy the next great hope?”

Fortuna cleared his throat, his eyes fixated on the flimsi in his hand. “It would appear not, Master.” He rose and approached Jabba’s throne, showing him the test results. “3000 midichlorians per cell.”

Confusion passed over Jabba’s face, and he took the flimsi from Fortuna to study it himself. Rancor-hide and the Gamorrean looked uncertain and began to whisper quietly between them. Beru clutched Luke tighter to her and gave me a look of such betrayal that I had to turn away, my cheeks turning red.

“Kenobi has lied to you,” Jabba addressed Owen and Beru, throwing the flimsi down onto the floor. “Listen to how he speaks of the boy,” he gestured to his droid who still held my journal. “Of his burden to watch over a child who can be of no use - who will never be a Jedi, let alone live up to his father’s legacy.”

The droid began to read from my journal, and indeed it sounded damning - entry after entry of my disappointment that Luke was not the child I had hoped he would be, that he demonstrated no talent at all in the Force. Of how much I resented the promise I had made to Anakin before he died, defending the Jedi Temple on Coruscant - how much I hated Tatooine with its heat and desert and uncivilised, unwashed masses. It was a work of art, if I do say so myself.

“You see?” I said, cutting off the droid when I felt all had heard enough. “The boy cannot be a Jedi, but I am bound by duty and promise to watch over him, and I will do so.”

Jabba was clearly disappointed - having a pet Jedi would have pleased him immensely. “The Empire will still pay well for you, Kenobi.”

“I would remind you that I am still a Jedi, and a Master at that.” My voice became hard, and I rested my hand gently over the lightsaber hilt hanging from my belt. “I could cut you into tiny pieces and feed you to the rancor if I so chose, before your goons could even draw their blasters.”

Rancor-hide and the Gamorrean indeed reached for their blasters, but stopped when Jabba began to laugh again. An easily amused fellow, I thought to myself, and joined him in a chuckle, even though Beru was looking at me as if I was mad.

“I like you, Kenobi,” Jabba said as he began to puff on his hookah again. “You amuse me. But this does not change what is owed by the moisture farmers.”

I nodded, anticipating that additional hurdle. “Let me take on their debt,” I suggested. “Keep my identity a secret, even from your own people, and in return I will...work for you. I’m sure I can save you from doling out exorbitant bounties, and that will more than pay for your silence, and cover the tithe for the Lars farm.” I looked him directly in the large bulbous eyes. “You will have a Jedi in your employ after all.”

“No, Ben,” Beru called out in distress. “You cannot do this.”

I ignored her and kept eye contact with Jabba so that he would know how serious I was. This was the moment, the point in every negotiation when all could be won or lost, and I could not be distracted from my task.

“The moisture farmers can leave,” Jabba decreed. “You have no further business here.”

Beru shook her head, her jaw visibly clenching as she squared her stance. I must say I was touched by her loyalty and concern for me, and I wonder if Rooh is not my only friend on Tatooine after all. Still, her attitude was unhelpful and luckily Owen was practical enough to see that they could not assist me - it was I who must fight for them. He whispered quietly to Beru and she acquiesced, hitching Luke up further on her hip - the boy had quite surprisingly fallen asleep, and I considered that a blessing. They left without further incident, although Owen shot me a look that clearly meant I would have to explain myself later.

Jabba stared at me for some time, and I felt the sweat prickle at the back of my neck. I felt my ruse with the box had succeeded in convincing him that Luke was worthless and not to be bothered with, but whether he felt I would be of more benefit serving him than the reward he would receive from the Empire remained to be seen. I tried not to think of how such service may compromise my integrity and principles, reminding myself that Luke’s safety was paramount.

“I accept your offer, Kenobi,” Jabba said eventually, and looked very pleased indeed.

I sighed with relief, and bowed my head in deference. “Thank you, mighty Jabba. I hope this will prove advantageous to us both.”

“The moisture farmers will be left to your protection,” Jabba added. “Provided I find your service adequate. If not, nothing will save you - or them - from the Empire.”

“You will be more than satisfied with me,” I told him. “But I will hold you to your word, Jabba," I added, my voice becoming hard again so that he could have no doubt of me. "I may have made my reputation on resolving conflicts without using my weapon, but do not think for a moment this means I am unwilling to unleash it. If the Lars family are so much as harassed in the street, I will bring a galaxy of suffering upon you. I will tear down this palace stone by stone and scorch the sand where it once stood, I will destroy you, and your hordes of mercenaries and think it a great service to this planet. Do not test me.”

I was cold in this moment, careful not to feel any anger or hate at the creature before me - and yet I meant every word. What I did next was not the act of a Jedi, but perhaps I am a Jedi no longer. Perhaps everything I had once revered and treasured had been slowly chipped away by the war until all that is left is what I am now - a man willing to do anything to protect a single child.

Before Rancor-hide and the Gamorrean even noticed my movement, I had drawn my lightsaber and ignited the blue blade, sweeping it through the flesh and bone and cleaving them each in two. Bib Fortuna screamed and backed away, but that was insufficient to protect him. I reached out into the Twi’lek’s weak and open mind, rifling through his memories as easily as he had pawed through my fake journal. I plucked at the memory of the past few hours, ripping it from his mind as he screamed and fell unconscious to the floor. I let the memory go, disappearing into the ether where it could be of no trouble.

Now only Jabba knew of our arrangement - and I suppose his slave girl that was still chained to the base of his throne. She turned her large black eyes to me in fear, and I knew I could not bear to inflict pain upon her, although of course Fortuna would be fine when he awoke in a few hours. I trusted I had demonstrated my power enough that she would remain silent, and I had no worry about the protocol droid.

“Do we understand one another?” I asked Jabba, trying not to think about the lives I had just taken in cold blood.


Jabba watched me silently for a few moments, puffing away on his hookah before his lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Yes, perfectly.”

 

Fascinating: the ruse, the agreement, and the demonstration. Compelling and revealing. Kenobi is resourceful & very much still on-task despite appearances.