Chapter Four: Siblings

The day after his reunion with his brother, Owen awoke to find himself in bed in a darkened room. The only other person present was a small boy, seated cross-legged on the floor. I must be dead, Owen thought vaguely. Because he's glowing. He looked around the the room. I guess I didn' t go to heaven, unless heaven is a lot drearier than I thought. He glanced back at the boy, and noticed than he was now standing beside his bed. He still glowed, with a transparent golden light shining about him, like a pale aura.

"Shall I get Obi-Wan?" the child was asking. He had a Tatooine accent, yet he was dressed in a distinct Core World style that Owen did not recognize, with a short braid on one side of his head.

Obi-Wan is my brother's Jedi honorific. I remember that now. But who is this boy?

"I"m Anakin Skywalker," the child answered his question, though Owen could not remember speaking it aloud.

"If your name is Skywalker, why are you dressed like that?" Owen said, startled by the raspy sound of his own voice. "That's a Tatooine name."

"I'm from Tatooine," the boy said, "and I'm dressed like this because I'm Obi-Wan's padawan learner."

Owen saw a carafe of water on a small table by his bed. His throat was terribly dry. The child followed his glance, and immediately poured out a glass of water and handed it to him.

I don' t even have to talk to him. It's creepy.

"You're broadcasting," the child said matter-of-factly.

"Broadcasting?" Owen asked.

"Loudly," the child said, smiling a little. "In your mind. I can hear it."

Owen sipped his water. "You seem a little young to be a padawan," he observed. "Don't they start at twelve?" He remembered this stray fact from his parents. His mother, in particular, had been bitter than Ben had been taken by the Jedi at six months, when they did not even intend to apprentice him until adolescence. What was the point of that? she had wondered. Owen wondered, too. And he wondered why the rules did not seem to apply to this boy, who looked no more than ten or eleven.

The child's face clouded. "They weren't going to let me be trained, because I was nine when I joined the Order," he said. "But they changed their minds."

"Why?"

The child's voice dropped to a whisper. "Qui-Gon asked Obi-Wan to train me. Qui-Gon was Obi-Wan's Master. And Obi-Wan convinced the Counsel to let him do it. It's because I'm really strong with the Force."

Owen felt rather amused by the child's air of juvenile self-importance. "How nice for you," he commented dryly.

The child sensed, perhaps, that Owen was making fun of him. His eyes flashed. "I can do other things, too!" he cried. "I was a pod-racer when I lived here!"

Owen's amusement vanished. "That's a lie," he said flatly, feeling tired and no longer interested in the conversation. "There are no human pod racers."

"I won the Boonta Eve race two years ago!" the child said, angrily. "I won my freedom!" He stopped abruptly.

A slave, then. He wasn't going to tell me that, either.

It's none of your business!" Anakin shouted.

"Don't yell," Owen muttered. "My head's throbbing as it is."

The child stormed to the door, and managed to collide with Obi-Wan in the process.

"Hold on, Anakin!" he said, surprised, catching him by his shoulders. "What's going on?"

"He insulted me!" Anakin said, clutching Obi-Wan's sleeve, and pointing at Owen, who was still in bed.

"Sit down," Obi-Wan said to the child. Owen could sense that he was trying to be patient. "I' m sure Owen didn't mean to hurt your feelings." He looked pointedly at Owen.

"I didn't say anything," Owen said sullenly. "He kept reading my mind." Obi-Wan looked surprised, but said nothing. Owen looked back at him and was astonished all over again that this glamorous stranger was his brother. There was nothing of the moisture farmer about him at all. Nothing of Tatooine. Nor could Owen see any obvious sign of either of his parents.

"This isn't the medcentre," Owen asked, "Is it?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "No. They wouldn't keep you. With the plague so wide-spread, they had no room for convalescents. This is a hostel. Not a good one, as I'm sure you've noticed. The good ones were afraid of infection."

Anakin tugged Obi-Wan's sleeve again. "Obi-Wan!" he exclaimed. "Is the Mos Espa quarantine lifted yet?"

"No, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, gently. "Not yet. Just be patient. Go and see if they are serving dinner yet."

Anakin made a face at Owen as he departed. Owen felt too tired to be irritated. Obi-Wan sat down at Owen's bedside. Gracefully, as he seemed to do all things. Owen stared at him.

"I've talked to the Darklighters," he said, mentioning a large family who farmed near the Kenobi smallholding. "They lost one of their sons--he was your age--in the plague, and they seem interested in taking you in.

Ferin. It must be Ferin. Everybody loved him, so of course, he's the one who died.

"Owen?" Owen tried to pay attention. He nodded, and his brother, reassured, continued:"They'll run the farm and keep its production until you're old enough to take it over. It seems like a fair exchange."

"Why does he glow?" Owen heard himself asking. Obi Wan paused, giving Owen a confused glance; then he stood up and stooped over Owen, feeling his forehead.

"You don't seem feverish---"

"That boy," Owen said. "Why does he glow like that?"

"Anakin?"

"Yes. A sort of golden glow all over, you can see through it."

"He doesn't---" Obi-Wan stopped. "I guess you need some rest, Owen."

"Maybe," Owen muttered into his pillow.

Obi-Wan paused and then went on: "We can't expect the Darklighters to take you until you're fully recovered. So here we are until you are. The doctors say you need three to four weeks of convalescence."

Owen didn't bother to reply; he simply closed his eyes. After a minute or two, Obi-Wan took the hint. He rose, and Owen could hear him leaving the room. He never mentioned our parents; not once, he thought bitterly.

Owen was asleep; well---not actually asleep, but in that drowsing period between sleep and waking--- when a shriek exploded in his mind. He became instantly awake. It was---he thought---early morning. The room was grey and empty. He rose quickly and staggered to the door, opening it. The hallway, too, was empty. There was no reaction from the other rooms in the hostel; no one else appeared to have heard what he had. Maybe, he thought, as he leant trembling against the door frame, it was a dream. He was looking doubtfully toward his bed when another shriek nearly drove him to his knees. He fumbled for his leggings and tunic and hastily put them on. When he peered out into the hallway, he still found it deserted. Had everyone left him alone? Another fear assailed him; perhaps everyone else had died of plague, and he was truly alone. Just as Owen began to panic, Anakin burst around the corner of the hallway at a dead run and cannoned into him, knocking him over, and falling over him. Obi-Wan was close behind the younger boy. He caught Anakin around the waist before he could get to his feet, and bore him, kicking and struggling, into Owen's room, and motioned to his brother to shut the door. Owen did so, feeling more and more mystified.

"What is it?" he asked Obi-Wan. "What's wrong?"

Obi-Wan didn't answer--he was obviously having a difficult time controlling Anakin. The golden light that surrounded Anakin when Owen looked at him had turned harsh and blinding. The child's eyes were shut tightly and his arms and legs were moving so fast they were blurring in Owen's sight. Obi-Wan was holding on to him, but just barely. Yet another shriek seared through Owen's mind; it was much more painful than the other two. Closer range, Owen thought: it was Anakin he had heard. If he does that again, I think he'll kill me. He leant against the wall and closed his eyes. In his mind's eye, he saw a brilliant light, roiling feverishly over a dark sea. The light was growing ever brighter, and instinct warned Owen that he must stop it before it exploded. He imagined the sea rising up and smothering the light, dashing against it; eventually extinguishing it entirely. The blasting light slowly faded and then disappeared. Owen opened his eyes. Obi-Wan was on his knees on the floor, cradling an unconscious Anakin in his arms. He was staring at his brother.

"How did you do that?" he asked, sounding astonished.

"Do what?" Owen asked. He slid slowly down the wall and sat on the cold, dusty floor. Obi- Wan gathered Anakin up and laid him gently on Owen's bed. He then seized a blanket and wrapped it around Owen.

"I'm taking him to the medcentre," he said. "Wait here."

As if I could move, anyway, Owen thought dully. Eventually, Obi-Wan did return, and helped Owen back into his bed, and sat down beside him. He regarded his brother in silence.

"Is he alright?"Owen asked eventually.

Obi-Wan sighed. "I hope so. They've sedated him."

What's wrong with him?" Owen asked.

"I had promised him he could visit with his mother, who was living in Mos Espa," Obi-Wan said, clasping his hands together. They were trembling, Owen noticed. "I don't know if you know this, but she's a slave." Owen nodded. "That area was quarantined, so we had to wait. Today, the quarantine was lifted, and we found that the slave quarters had been fired by the Hutts when the plague hit. With the sick people still inside them."

Owen felt his stomach drop. He looked up at Obi-Wan. "And his mother?" Owen asked.

"He found her house," Obi-Wan said, sounding very tired. "It was burnt out. She was inside; or what was left of her was." Owen closed his eyes tightly and tried to forget his own parents.

"At first he was very quiet. In shock, I think. Then he had---an episode? I don't know how to describe it---I've never felt anything like it in the Force before. I tried to calm him, but I couldn't. He was---not hysterical, I suppose---but just wild. Like the Force possessed him completely."

Obi-Wan then looked at Owen. "But you stopped him. How did you do it?"

Owen hesitated. "You know that light I told you about, the one that shines around Anakin?" he said. "This time I could see in my mind. I imagined smothering it..." he stopped, seeing the expression on his brother's face. Obi-Wan Kenobi looked horrified.

"Did I do something wrong?" Owen asked anxiously, after the silence grew rather lengthy. "Did I hurt him?"

"No, Owen, of course you didn't hurt him," Obi-Wan said quickly. "In fact, you saved the day. It's just---"

"Just what?"

"Well, I suppose I should have guessed that you had the Force," Obi-Wan said. His voice sounded strained.

"The Force?" Owen shook his head. "I'm not a Jedi."

"But you do have the Force," Obi-Wan said. "Quite strongly. I can't think why I didn't notice it before, but it's common for Aestri to be latents. Aestri are Jedi that haven't joined the Order as infants, by the way. It's a pity that you weren't taken into the Order when you were younger---"

"They tried," Owen said.

"They?"

"The Jedi. They came to test me when I was a baby. Didn't you know?" And he told Obi-Wan the story. Obi-Wan hadn't known, Owen could sense it. In fact, Owen could suddenly sense things far more clearly and completely than he had in the past. It was, Obi-Wan told him, the Force. Once a latent had been triggered, the Force was with them. It made Owen very uneasy. He wanted nothing to do with the Force or the Jedi, for that matter, as they had been the villains in every one of his mother's stories.

The weary days of Owen's convalescence crawled by. He did not see Anakin, who was still in the medcentre, despite the shortage of beds. Obi-Wan avoided his questions on the subject, and he did not press it.

If he hoped to form a stronger relationship with his brother during these days, he was doomed to disappointment. Obi-Wan was distant and distracted, and spent a good deal of time cross-legged on the floor, doing something he called meditation. Communing with the Force, he told Owen, when Owen asked him what meditation was. Ask a stupid question, Owen thought to himself. An even stupider question was what Obi-Wan was communing with the Force about, and indeed, Obi- Wan had told him that he wouldn't understand the answer.

"Try me," Owen had said, irritated. Obi-Wan hadn't answered, which Owen was to learn, was his usual reaction to questions to which he did not want to respond. But when the fourth week of Owen's convalescence ended, he abruptly announced that Owen would be accompanyingthem back to Corsucrant.

"But, you said--the Darklighters--aren't I staying?"

"I've changed my mind," Obi-Wan said coldly.

Owen felt his spine stiffen. When Obi-Wan had disposed of his future earlier, he had been resigned. He had not wanted to stay on Tatooine; the place smelt of death, and held too many bad memories. He had desperately hoped Obi-Wan would elect to take him off-planet, but when his brother told him his plans, it had never occurred to him to beg him to change his mind. You didn't ask for favors, especially not from strangers, and despite the blood tie, that's essentially what Obi-Wan was to him. Yet now that he was going off-planet, he was afraid. Tatooine was both boring and dangerous, but he knew both the boredom and the danger intimately. The unknown loomed before him like a threat.

"Do I get a vote here?"

Obi-Wan gave him a look that he could not interpret. His expression was bleak.

"Not this time, Owen," he said, very quietly, so quietly that Owen could think of nothing to say. Almost.

"What will I do on Corsucrant?" he asked.

"Join the Order," Obi-Wan said, trying to smile, and not quite managing it.

Owen scowled. "I don't want to be a Jedi!" he exclaimed.

Obi-Wan stood up, with an air of finality. "We leave tomorrow," he said.