Chapter Text
Dear Qui-Gon
This place is so barren. I remembered that, of course, from the first time I was here. But then I kept mostly to the ship, with only minimal exposure to the elements. And of course as a child Anakin never shut up about the place - the coarseness of the sand and the harsh twin suns which bleached fabric, burnt skin and cracked the already brittle earth. At first it was in comparison to the sights and sounds of Coruscant and the splendor of the city; Tatooine desolate where Coruscant was teeming with life. Unbearable heat versus climate-controlled, perfect weather. The latest technology of the Core versus equipment and droids cobbled together from numerous sources; where even tech that was barely functioning was highly prized. Wealth and amusements versus a meager living where water was valued above all else.
As the novelty of the city wore off, Anakin would mention the planet in passing, almost as if his hard early life as a slave set him above the other padawans who had all grown up in the Jedi Temple. They had formed bonds with one another as younglings, their clans becoming their families as they grew from initiates into apprentices. Anakin had no such luxury, becoming my padawan immediately - which in hindsight may explain his lack of understanding that to be a Jedi is to be one of a whole rather than a collection of individuals. That is however my failing as a teacher. At the time I did not see his prideful scorn of the other apprentices as indicative of anything darker, I merely thought him competitive. Now that I recall those days, Anakin seemed to despise Tatooine, but also had a strange sort of conceit that it had made him stronger than the others. More hardy, perhaps.
Once his mother died, of course, he never mentioned his homeworld again.
It occurs to me that I am back where this whole journey began. And yet this time the world is to become my new home, even though the heat is almost unbearable and my moisture vaporator keeps malfunctioning. I have never been mechanically minded and I am embarrassed to say that the thing confounds me. If only Anakin were here, he would have it fixed within a few minutes – probably even improve its functionality.
But I must not think that. Anakin is dead.
I visited the boy today. He is so tiny, so fragile. Yet he is a happy enough child, and well cared for by the Lars couple. I went under the pretext of purchasing some water from their farm and asking if they knew of an honest mechanic who could fix my vaporator. Beru seems a sweet girl, and yet also rather sharp.
“Owen is out on the north ridge,” she explained as she let me inside. “But I gather you knew that.”
I had indeed waited until Owen had left for the day and was out of sight of the homestead. Other than my first conversation with him over the comm, the man has not spoken to me, and in fact kept his back turned when I delivered the boy to their care. When I gave them the news of Vader he had said nothing, and simply glowered and left Beru to ask the pertinent questions.
“Forgive me if I am imposing,” I told her, and I regret causing her any distress.
Beru simply handed me Luke as she went to prepare the tea, or rather the Tatooine version of tea made from harvested H’Kak beans. It is orange in colour and not unpleasant, although quite different from the tarine tea I once favoured. Still, I am resolved to acquire a taste for it.
I will not embarrass myself by describing the silly faces and cooing I performed to delight little Luke – I’m not quite sure what came over me, but it suddenly seemed very, very important to make the boy laugh.
“I am trying to talk Owen around,” Beru informed me, as she finished preparing the tea and brought it over to the table. “He does not want you visiting.”
“I understand,” I acknowledged. “I have come here to protect Luke, and if I must do that from a distance, so be it.”
“Owen only wants what’s best for Luke,” Beru pressed. “He already loves the boy so much, and thinks only of keeping him safe. If his father should return…”
“I do not believe he will,” I told her. “And I will feel his presence, if he does.”
Beru looked down at her tea then. “I’m afraid I still do not understand your powers.”
I decided to let the point stand – any good negotiator knows when not to press too hard. “He is a very calm child,” I observed, although not having much experience with infants I had little to compare that to.
“Yes, he is,” Beru said with a sweet smile on her face. I can already tell that little Luke has become her whole world. “Most of the time – but he becomes quite agitated when someone around him is upset, even if they are not holding him.”
“He is attuned to the world around him,” I told her. “He…will have powers, too.”
Both Luke and Leia were tested for midi-chlorians when blood samples were taken soon after birth, and each of them had a count of approximately 20,000 per cell, only slightly less than Anakin. At such levels it is only natural that the twins will start to exhibit abilities congruent with such sensitivity. This was explained to Bail Organa, and I have no doubt that as Princess of Alderaan young Leia will have the royal training required to channel these gifts in perfectly ordinary pursuits unlikely to raise suspicions.
Luke is another matter, especially growing up on a planet where he will be faced with much hard work and little reward. Tatooine is almost completely devoid of life, and I had hoped that this would in fact dampen his connection to the Force. The Force is present in all living things, and it has been my experience that the more life a planet has, the greater connection a Jedi can forge with the Force. On Tatooine, however, there is little life to draw on, and indeed I have struggled to achieve a deep connection with the Force.
And yet as I held Luke in my arms I realised that his potential was undiminished by his harsh surroundings. He shines brightly in the Force; a light aura around him that both thrilling and frightening in equal measure. But how to explain this to his guardians?
“Owen will return soon,” Beru said pointedly. She took Luke from me then, and held him close to her breast, kissing the crown of blonde hair on his head. I decided the let the matter drop for now, in hopes that I will be welcome when I visit again. I sense in Beru I will have a great ally, and will need one to counter Owen’s obstinacy.
For what, though, remains uncertain. As you know, Qui-Gon, a plan has yet to be formed regarding either child. Our first priority is their safety, of course, but what of the future? Are they to be trained as Jedi or kept in anonymity? Either path has its risks, and I do not fancy trying to convince Owen Lars to let me train the boy under any circumstances. And yet I sense that the galaxy will have need of the Skywalker twins, sooner of later, and that it will not always be possible to shield Luke from the burdens of his bloodline. I hope, Qui-Gon, that you will come soon and give me counsel.
Until then I remain ever your apprentice,
Obi-Wan Kenobi