Chapter Text
The unforgiving rays of Tatooine’s twin suns beat down onto the sand. Obi-Wan wiped the back of his hand across his brow and raised the hood of his cloak. Despite the heat, the layers of clothing were necessary to protect one’s skin against the suns and sudden sandstorms.
A hellish planet.
Obi-Wan had thought it hellish all those years ago when he had first set eyes on it as just a Padawan. More extensive time spent seeing more of the planet had not altered his opinion. Small wonder Anakin loathed every one of their missions to a desert or even a beach. It had hardly been three months, and Obi-Wan already felt weary down to his bones. If the heat did not exhaust him during the day, the chill of the night came quickly to compound his misery.
Then there was the isolation. Although not averse to time on his own, the vast emptiness of the Tatooine desert sometimes leeched onto him and left him lonelier than ever. If he had followed his original plan to lay low in a cave or abandoned hut, he might have even felt the beginnings of despair. A slight injury and the unexpected kindness of others spared him from that.
While Obi-Wan still thought poorly of much of what passed for civilization on Tatooine, the farmer who had taken him in was a good man. An unfortunate tumble with Tusken Raiders had resulted in a badly sprained ankle. Obi-Wan had faced much worse, but alone in the desert, such an injury could have eventually led to his death. He passed out from dehydration and awoke on a bed in a small but clean room.
The farmer would not hear of Obi-Wan’s attempts to leave, insisting on seeing him able to stand on his own two feet before setting off on his own.
“Or try it,” the farmer shrugged. “But I won’t drag you back here when you collapse out there on your own.”
Obi-Wan croaked out a chuckle at the man’s bluntness. “I take your point, Mr…?”
“Lars.” The man offered his hand. “Cliegg Lars. My son and his wife are around here somewhere.”
“I’m Ben.” Obi-Wan shook Cliegg’s hand and promptly fell back asleep.
With the Lars family’s help, Obi-Wan was able to recover quickly. The son, Owen, treated him politely enough, but didn’t bother to hide his distrust of strangers. Beru, his wife, was quiet yet kind.
Aside from inquiring if he had any family in the area, they didn’t ask Obi-Wan much about himself. They knew from their years on Tatooine that anyone found alone with no connections would likely prefer to keep their past to themselves.
Likewise, he did not ask about Cliegg’s wife, although her picture sat by Cliegg’s bed and he saw the man holding it when he thought no one was looking. At night, Obi-Wan sometimes heard Cliegg talking to her softly. That was how he learned that her name was Aika. No one mentioned her during the daylight hours. Some griefs could not be told.
Obi-Wan’s mission was pressing, but once he regained the ability to walk unaided, he lingered one more day to assist with the farmwork as a way of expressing his thanks. Owen eyed him warily and accepted his help with reluctance, but gave him a nod of respect at the end of the day when the work was over.
Cliegg offered to let him stay a while longer, but Obi-Wan refused. His presence put them in danger as the Hutts would not look kindly on anyone who aided a Jedi in their territory. He had been sent undercover and was unlikely to be found out, but the risk was still there.
Not to mention the supposed Sith he was meant to be tracking. The Jedi Council often received reports of Sith sightings from all over the Galaxy. While most were questionable, they could not afford to ignore the ones that had even a little merit. Obi-Wan had spent weeks searching and still could not turn up any hard evidence. He remained patient but dubious, although remembering the Sith that Qui-Gon had encountered here all those years ago troubled him. They believed the Sith to have followed them to the planet, but perhaps not. Qui-Gon had taught him not to believe in coincidence. Perhaps it had been the will of the Force that brought them stumbling across each other’s paths.
Qui-Gon…
He tried not to think about his former Master, usually centering himself in the Force and letting the thoughts drift from him, but now, staring out into the dunes, Obi-Wan wondered where Qui-Gon might be. What mission he was handling. If he was well.
They never returned to the Temple at the same time. Both of them kept busy on the active Knights roster accepting mission after mission and taking their leaves elsewhere. The avoidance had been necessary at first but then became a habit. Obi-Wan no longer knew how he would feel seeing Qui-Gon again. He dreaded discovering if Qui-Gon did not wish to see him.
They had been happy once. Their natural closeness easily developed into something other than friendship during Qui-Gon’s recovery after the Naboo mission. A different kind of intimacy.
And Obi-Wan had ended it.
He sighed and urged his eopie onward. The Council would be contacting him in a few hours when evening fell. Hopefully, three months of searching with no leads would satisfy them.
Before that, he intended to stop by the Lars home briefly to express his gratitude once more and to make certain no harm had come to them.
When he arrived, he was met by a somber Beru.
“A neighboring woman was taken by the Tuskens. Cliegg and Owen joined the search team last night.” The blaster strapped to Beru’s belt and the dark circles under her eyes showed that the night had been a sleepless one for her. “Owen came back this morning after they found the woman, but Cliegg never returned. Owen just left again to find him.”
Obi-Wan laid a hand on her shoulder. “Where did he go?”
“North.” Beru nodded behind Obi-Wan. “Towards Cliegg’s last known position.”
Obi-Wan turned to follow her gaze, then looked back at her. “Will you be alright?”
Her hand strayed to the blaster hilt, and her jaw set in a firm line. “Yes,” she said, quiet but strong.
“I’ll find him,” Obi-Wan promised.
Beru studied him, raising a quizzical eyebrow, before shaking her head. “I don’t know why,” she said, “but I believe you. Make sure they both come home?”
“I will.”
Obi-Wan turned his eopie north and followed after Owen. As he rode, he loosened his hold on the reins—the animal was well-trained enough to not wander—and opened his mind to the Force. He searched through his surroundings, sensing the life forms nearby. The worry emanating from one familiar being let him know that Owen was not too far ahead of him.
He diverted more of his energy into broadening his reach, looking for another life form that he recognized and trusting the Force to guide him.
Slightly east of Owen, he detected someone in agonizing pain.
Cliegg.
Obi-Wan brought himself back to awareness and clicked his tongue, signaling for the eopie to quicken her pace.
When he drew closer to Cliegg, the Force sent out a warning, and he guided the eopie accordingly, stepping her around traps made of bone and bantha hide covered by the sand. Two of the traps had been sprung. One held a dead man he did not know. The other held Cliegg.
A light dusting of sand covered Cliegg’s face and unevenly rising chest. Lying there sunburnt and unconscious, he was only visible from the waist up. Cliegg’s legs disappeared into the trap’s bloodstained jaws.
Obi-Wan grabbed his water canteen and hurried to the man’s side. He checked his pulse and found that Cliegg’s heartbeat was weak and fast. Dehydration and shock.
Carefully, Obi-Wan eased Cliegg’s mouth open and poured a few slow drops of water onto his tongue. To his surprise, Cliegg stirred and coughed, a harsh, grating sound.
“Ben?” Cliegg wheezed and blinked up at him.
“Yes, it’s me.” Obi-Wan reached out to support his head. “Easy. Easy there. Slow breaths. Like that.”
Cliegg licked at his chapped lips. “Seems we find ourselves here again, only our situations are reversed.”
“It seems so,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Do you know how long you’ve been here?”
Cliegg nodded and took several labored breaths before speaking again. “Since right before sunrise, assuming it’s only been a day.”
“It has.” Obi-Wan winced when Cliegg coughed again. He offered him more water.
“Daven was with me,” Cliegg said.
“I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan glanced towards the dead man. “He didn’t survive.”
Cliegg’s face hardened. “And the woman? Owen?”
“They found her. Owen made it back all right.”
“Good.” Cliegg closed his eyes. “My leg might be gone.”
Obi-Wan looked down at the trap. He couldn’t see much past Cliegg’s upper thighs, but the dried blood was not promising.
“I can’t tell,” Obi-Wan said at last. “I do think the teeth are what’s kept you from bleeding out.” He ripped strips of cloth from his tunic and tied them tightly around Cliegg’s legs, ignoring the man’s grunts of pain.
After examining the trap, Obi-Wan couldn’t find anything that looked like a release. Not that he could be certain of. Possibly the Tuskens didn’t build a release into it.
He knelt above Cliegg’s head.
“No way to open it?” Cliegg asked, resigned.
“Not exactly.” Obi-Wan braced his hands on Cliegg’s shoulders and reached out to the Force. “Try not to move.”
Cliegg started to question him, but then the jaws of the trap began to lift, and he gritted his teeth against the pain instead. Obi-Wan worked quickly. Once the jaws opened far enough, he pulled Cliegg clear and moved to bandage the wounds. The left leg had suffered only a few gashes, but the right had been severed from the thigh down.
A glance at Cliegg’s face showed that the man mercifully had lost consciousness. It allowed Obi-Wan to carry Cliegg to the eopie and remount without causing him more pain. He sat behind Cliegg to hold him in place and monitor his vitals. As he turned the eopie towards the Lars farm, Obi-Wan sent up a silent plea for the man to not die on the way.
Cliegg stirred enough on the ride back to mumble. “I really had no idea how much trouble I was inviting on my household the day I saved your skin. Did I, Master Jedi?”
Guilt curled in Obi-Wan’s stomach. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Cliegg attempted to wave a hand. It flopped clumsily against the saddle. “I’d like to think I would have made the same decision had I known. Besides, now you’re saving my skin.”
Cliegg Lars was both strong and stubborn. He survived the trip home and held on until a medic could be brought. He stoically accepted the news about his leg. A small nod and a quiet grunt.
Outside of Cliegg’s bedroom, the medic was not hopeful. Infection had set in, further weakening him and reducing the chances of recovery.
Owen’s face hardened as he was told to prepare for the death of his father. He remained silent while Beru questioned the medic, pushing for more options, but they all knew the reality. Tatooine was a poor planet, and Cliegg needed more care than the Lars could provide for him.
As tears formed in Beru’s eyes, Obi-Wan stepped forward. He had brought Cliegg home, but he had not yet returned the favor of saving his life. Not yet.
He had called in a favor to his friend, Bail Organa of Alderaan. A planet with some of the most advanced medical care in the Galaxy, as well as a much more agreeable climate to aid in Cliegg’s convalescence.
Upon learning of Obi-Wan’s true identity, Owen was far less understanding than Cliegg, but Beru laid a hand on his arm. A few hastily spoken words passed between them out of Obi-Wan’s earshot. When they turned back to Obi-Wan, Owen still did not look pleased, but he accepted the offer with gratitude.
Obi-Wan stayed until the next morning. Just long enough for Bail’s ship to arrive for Cliegg. The delirious man did not seem to recognize his surroundings, but he clung to Owen’s hand for a moment before being carried aboard.
Owen and Beru stood side by side watching the ship prepare for departure. They could not leave the farm unattended to accompany Cliegg.
As the ship disappeared into the atmosphere, Obi-Wan tried to silently slip away.
“Back to your Jedi Temple?”
“Not just yet,” Obi-Wan answered Owen’s biting question evenly. “I have business elsewhere first.”
“Another mission?”
Obi-Wan shook his head. “No, a visit to some old friends.”
Owen raised his eyebrows. “Are the Jedi allowed to have so many friends?”
“Owen,” Beru hissed.
Obi-Wan diplomatically ignored the jab. “The Organas will see to it that you are kept informed on Cliegg’s condition. My best wishes to him and to you.”
“Ours to you as well,” Beru replied. “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”
Owen hesitated a moment, but then nodded.
Obi-Wan nodded back and made his way back to his own ship. The Council had agreed that he had done all he could there and that it was time for his leave.
Once in the cockpit, Obi-Wan set the coordinates for Naboo and settled back in his seat with a tired but relieved groan.
Then he caught sight of his reflection in the console. Although slightly distorted, his face appeared haggard and far more aged than he recalled. Wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes, and patches of gray appeared on his temples. He sighed deeply and looked away. It mattered not.
“The outside mirrors the in,” he muttered, hearing his bones creak as he shifted in his seat. That heavy weariness sank into him once again. “It is the natural way of things.”
Time with the Skywalkers would refresh him. Padmé and Anakin always received him warmly. He hadn’t seen the twins in over a year, but just the thought of their youthful energy lifted his spirits. Yes, the Skywalkers would do him good.