The twin suns rose over the desert landscape, heating the shifting sands. The hatch lifted, exposing the small cockpit to the dry winds. He inhaled deeply before removing his helmet and climbing out of the cockpit of his battle ready X-wing. He looked around, surveying the bleak dunes, remembering this place where he was raised. He didn't consider this home; he didn't really consider anywhere home. Not anymore. His sister Leia had her home on Alderaan before, then found a new one with her husband, Han. He couldn't help but feel a bit of envy at that, but brushed the feeling away. It was not appropriate.
He thought of growing up here, dreaming of distant stars, exotic planets and fascinating people, hoping he would be out there too. He shook his head, clearing the old thoughts from his already clouded mind. He shouldn't be distracted today, not now. Again, it was not appropriate. Making sure his small companion was mobile, he began the lonely trek to the cliffs.
Hours later, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker entered the dusty rooms on Tatooine with a certain reverence. He made this particular pilgrimage once a year to honor his fallen master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He did the same for Master Yoda, trekking through the Dagobah swamps to the small hovel, but for some reason it never held the same significance for him as this simple gesture. Ben had been the one to awaken his force sensitivity and initiated him into the old ways. Now that he was a Jedi and Teacher in his own right, he felt compelled to renew this connection with his own master. He came to this dwelling whenever he needed to escape. This journey always soothed his weary soul, bringing him peace. Today however, was for the master, not the apprentice.
He drew off his cloak and sat in the old worn chair by the door and stared at the old chest across the room. His droid R2D2 moved around the room, its whistles and whirs filling the silence. Ben's spirit would join him today at no specific time. Centering himself, he remembered his former master fondly; remembered how he moved around these rooms. Ben always moved with a quiet dignity, weighing all his words carefully, dispensing his wisdom like a fine wine. Luke admired his quiet ways and he wondered if Ben ever had as difficult a time controlling his impulsiveness as he did. His patience seemed boundless. He thought about the first time they met, when he was given his first lightsaber. It came from that chest, he thought, unconsciously fingering the one that now hung from his belt. Over the years, Luke sifted through the contents of the chest, looking for information he could use in training the Jedi. Ben never minded the intrusion; rather he seemed to enjoy the fact his legacy was living on through the new core of Jedi.
Luke eyed the chest again, feeling drawn to it. The sensation was disturbing. It wasn't idle curiosity, but an impulsive desire to search it again. He felt overwhelmed with the need. Drawing the force around him like a cloak then walked over to the chest and opened it. Obi-Wan chose that moment to materialize. "You've been through everything in there already, Luke."
Luke looked up quickly, closing the chest. "I'm sorry to intrude, master. I just felt..."
Obi-Wan smiled then. "It's all right, Luke. This place and everything in it is yours to do with as you will. I have no need for it." He walked to the chest. "What do you feel?"
"I sense something Master. A disturbance or impulse, I don't know exactly what, but there is something drawing me to it." He opened the lid carefully and knelt in the dust surveying the contents. It was half-empty, just a few brown cloaks folded neatly and stacked against one side. Another small stack of beige clothing lay on top of them. The old weapons and ship diagrams as well as Obi-Wan's journals were gone, stored in Luke's own library. He picked up then carefully replaced the clothing. "I must have been mistaken, Master."
He started to close the lid slowly when it slipped away from his fingers and slammed with a loud snap. The sound of falling rain came from inside the chest. Luke turned to Obi-Wan again with a questioning look, then carefully opened the chest again. Part of the inside lid had broken open, revealing an old hidden compartment, the contents of which now lay in the trunk. Among the wooden slivers were dozens of silicon memory chips, a dark blue glove, and a folder with several pieces of paper inside.
Obi-Wan would have stopped his former apprentice if he could have. They were from another life, foolish dreams from a young and foolish man. They represented one of his greatest hopes and worst nightmares. He'd forgotten he'd hidden those things there. He always assumed they were lost when he fled Coruscant. Now he watched helplessly as Luke sifted through the old memories, feeling his anguish threaten to overcome him again.
Luke reached for the glove first, oblivious to Obi-Wan's pained expression. Carefully removing it from the chest, he felt an object inside the aged leather and emptied the contents into his hand. They consisted of a long braid of dark hair twined with a black pendant on a silver chain. He examined the pendant, noting its unusual design. It seemed to be a crest of some sort though he had never seen its like. He felt the braid, then carefully placing the items back in the glove, he reached for one of the chips.
They were old, but still readable, though he could not be certain how complete they would be. He called the R2 unit over and inserted one of the chips. R2 told him it was encrypted and would take a few moments to decode. Luke nodded absentmindedly, reaching for the folder.
Obi-Wan moved to the back of the room, watching Luke examine the newly found items. Seeing the soft braid, he felt wounded, like a saber had burned through his soul again. He would have given anything to touch the braid one last time. But the time for that had passed. Another missed opportunity. He watched with longing as Luke replaced the glove and moved to the sheaf of papers.
Luke carefully opened the folder. It contained several small paintings, landscapes mostly, save for two small portraits. One was of a young Jedi that could have been Ben, with the same piercing blue eyes, light brown hair cut short except for a long braid that hung over his right shoulder, and lips set in a firm line with a slight curve at the edges, hinting at a smile. The second one was of the same Jedi with an older man, also a Jedi, with long brown and silver hair. It was a casual pose, both men seated comfortably, smiling widely at the artist. There was a lightness to the work that made Luke smile as well. He leafed through the rest of the works, taking care not to break the old parchment. The renderings were very good and with Ben's permission, he would have them preserved and place them in his own study. Going to the last painting, Luke felt his breath catch in his throat.
It was done in two layers. The base painting was of a fire orange sunrise over distant mountains. In the foreground, the rays of light reflected in the lake. The grass surrounding was still wet from the morning dew, and two sets of footprints were barely visible in the moisture. The whole painting gave a sense of tranquility; the world just as it awoke.
The second part was done on an almost translucent sheet of parchment. There, a young woman wearing only in an ivory sheet knelt on an old bed in front of a window that overlooked the mountains. The woman looked out from the painting with a knowing smile, as if she were about to laugh at some shared joke. One hand held the sheet to her body. The other hand was low and open, an invitation. With her long dark hair falling loosely over one shoulder and a single braid over the other, she was beautiful, sensual, and seemed to glow in the morning sunlight. Luke studied the painting, feeling the emotion of the artist through the parchment. He carefully turned the work over and saw written in a delicate script, 'Ever yours, Shara.' This was done for Ben, he thought, and suddenly there was another side of his master he never knew existed.
If it were possible for a spirit to cry, Ben would have wept for his loss. The painting brought back memories of the morning it was painted. She captured his image of her, using the Force to draw from him how he saw her at that moment. It was the second most erotic experience he'd ever felt, the first being the moments that took place before the painting.
Their thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice coming from the droid. He turned and saw the same woman in traditional Jedi garb being projected from the R2 unit's lens. She spoke in a light tones:
"Hello Ben, I leave for Malastair today, another boring council assignment. It shouldn't take too long. I'll tell you all about it when I get back. How is Anakin's training coming? Give him my regards and tell him I hope he understands why we check the saber focal point settings. She stifled a laugh. Did you ever get the roof fixed?" She paused for a moment smiling, then continued. "Master Rees was finally promoted to the council, though I'm sure you already heard. He's been as puffed up as usual. Master Yoda finds it very amusing, and Master Rees knows his boundaries, so everyone is satisfied with the arrangement. By the way, Master Windu asked me if I felt comfortable enough to take a Padawan Learner. When I reminded him that most of the trainers were promoted to master before taking an apprentice, he just smiled and said I should meditate on it first and let him know what I felt. What do you think Ben? Should I? Whenever I think about it, I get a blank feeling." She shrugged. "Maybe it's just me. In any case, I'll stop and visit you both after I clear from Malastair. Another pause. Well, I've droned on long enough. I'll see you in a few weeks. I miss you love. Til then." The image faded.
Luke turned to Obi-Wan. "Master?"
Obi-Wan stated in strained, clipped tones, "Shara was a Jedi Knight. She died many years ago." Luke began to speak again but Obi-Wan raised a hand, cutting him off. "Do not ask me more on this. That is all you need to know." With that, Obi-Wan disappeared.
Unfortunately, it only left Luke with more questions.
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