"He has haunted eyes." Her awed murmur was lost, adrift in the heated afternoon air of Tatooine's desert wastes. "I didn't think..."

Beru Lars did not complete that sentence. The desolate, grey-green eyes of a battered soul stared back at her, their very depths swimming in pain and bottomless despair. Holding her gaze, mesmerizing - they were all she could see. Not the compact body of a warrior standing there so superb and still, not the greying hair intermingled with copper wire of youth, not the unhappy mouth even now giving way to age and ruination and death. She saw only the haunted eyes and remorse that clung to every movement.

She watched him turn away then, his head bowed in shame and grief. General Obi-Wan Kenobi, hero of the battle of Tanub, bringer of the Peace of Sullust and the last of the Jedi Knights, was defeated. And it appeared to be eating him alive.

Wanting to give him support and some comfort in this hour of sorrow, she stepped forward. She knew that he had nothing left - no friends, no home. There was nothing but a single small hope, even now sleeping quietly in his arms. But the durasteel hand of her stubborn husband held her tight.

"No, Beru," Owen Lars said with cold disdain. "Don't. He does not deserve our help. He brought this all on himself, him and his damned Order."

"Owen..." Horrified, her voice sharpened with reproach. She had no idea that her gentle husband could be so cruel. For a brief moment, her eyes flashed again toward the quiet Jedi. It was clear that he had heard Owen's rebuke and accepted it as truth; the devastating guilt seemed to sink into his skin like a shroud.

Ignoring her, Lars growled back. "No, let him come to us. We are the ones that will pay the price for his self-righteous delusions."

Frowning at the hostility so clear in his voice and unhappy that he was the one to cause such pain in another, Beru shook her head, "Owen, shame on you. Master Kenobi..."

He cut her off. His razored fury only seemed to swell as she tried to defend the Jedi. He spat out, "Master! Master of what I'd like to know. Shmi worshiped her little boy and look what he became when he went to the Jedi. That damned Temple turned that nice kid into a demon and..."

Abruptly, Owen turned away. She tried to reach for him but he pushed her aside. One hand raised and swiftly lowered in the baking air as though trying to bat away the memories of death and old loss, he walked a few steps and stopped. Looking towards the gravestones in the harsh desert sands with their sad shadows lengthening toward him in the coming sunset, he stood there and remembered the unhappy past. Folding his arms about him as if to ward off some chill, he seemed immovable.

Finally, twisting around, his narrowed eyes glaring at Kenobi, he said, "And he's to blame." Raising his voice, he called out, "Is that what you are, Jedi? A Master? A sorcerer capable of turning a child into a monster?"

Even as Obi-Wan bowed his head, the caustic denunciation still echoing in the air, Beru refused to back down. "Stop this, Owen. He is our guest. And he's brought us a precious gift."

It was apparent that Owen thought his wife had gone mad. "Gift! No, not a gift. He's here to drop his problem into our lap. Nothing more and nothing less. If it wasn't for the fact that he has my stepmother's grandchild in his clutches, he'd never be allowed near either one of us. Death seems to follow him wherever he goes. Can't you see that?" With a quick shake of her head, he muttered, "Well, I won't have it."

She was determined to break through his fury and fear. She could be just as stubborn as he when she wanted something this badly. And she wanted a baby, this little boy, very much. Her voice was flat, firm and resolute. "You promised that we would take the child. And we are going to keep that promise."

"But Beru..." Ignoring the angry mutter, she walked toward the Jedi, standing there so still and silent. The few steps seemed like a lifetime but she was determined.

Reaching for the child, her arms aching to hold the innocent babe, Beru Lars murmured, "Please, Master Kenobi. We will keep our word." Looking into the stoic face of the last of the Jedi Knights, her soft eyes met his in understanding. "Please let me have the boy."

With a gentle sigh, the Knight looked down at his young charge. So much pain, so much sacrifice for a simple child and yet, Beru could see that Obi-Wan had grown to love the little one in the few days since his birth. She watched as he hesitated, just for one brief moment, as if he were tempted, ever so slightly, to keep him for his own - redemption in the bright new hope lying so peacefully in his arms.

But when the Knight gazed up at her once more, there was nothing but determination in his face. Swallowing whatever doubts still haunted him, he carefully placed the boy in the loving arms of his Aunt Beru.

"His name is Luke." Obi-Wan paused, watching Owen Lars carefully as he said, "Luke Skywalker."

The frenzied storm of emotion raged across the frowning landscape of Owen's worn face. "Skywalker? Are you insane?"

Shuddering with anger, Lars walked quickly toward the Jedi and stood there, large hands tightly clenched in a fierce attempt to keep him from throttling the fool. "You blasted fraud. Beru, can't you see?" As she shook her head, he plowed on. "He's bait. Luke is going to be dangled in front of Vader like a piece of meat. It's all an elaborate trap and we're dead center in the middle of their little Sith war. He's bait and so are we."

Beru watched as Obi-Wan stood quietly, not arguing or pleading with her husband as Owen's venom spewed out, but in resignation. She knew that it must have cost Kenobi much to come here, to beg for their help in this. She knew, too, that Padme would not have wanted her son and Anakin's to bear any other name but that of his father, no matter the price.

Gently, she said, "Owen, perhaps it was Padme's idea..."

Kenobi nodded, "She wanted Luke to have something of his, if only a name."

With a sharp frown and narrowed eyes filled with mistrust, Owen glared at the Jedi. He spat back, "His father's dead and the Jedi killed him. You killed him, Kenobi - you and your Force. Anakin should have stayed here and not gotten involved." Raising his hand, he pointed his accusation at Obi-Wan. "Because of you, he's dead and there's only Vader now. A monster that you people created."

Beru looked once more into those desolate eyes.

She had heard of the hatred and outrage from highborn and low in the days following the fall of the Order and the slaughter of innocents. There was a bounty on every Jedi's head and it was no small feat that he had managed to come to Tatooine without a legion of hunters after him. It would have been easier for the Knight to run away, to hide from all concerned but he had not done that.

Instead he had come here, and allowed her husband to berate him with poisoned words, for the sake on one small child.

Beru realized then that Kenobi wanted to be blamed for all this, that he accepted the pain as part of the infinite darkness spilling forth upon the Galaxy since Anakin's turning, that he thought he should be punished for his hubris. That it was his fault, that it would always be his fault.

She wanted to help him somehow, but there was nothing she could say. She could not bring back the dead or turn the hands of time to a gentler age. She could only accept the gift of life, even now squirming in her arms, and allow the Knight his time to mourn.

But as she was about to remind her husband of his promise to her, Obi-Wan quietly replied, "Master Lars, the child needs a home. And a name. His mother begged for this one thing. That her love and his be remembered in the boy. In Luke Skywalker."

Owen snorted at that, scowling his disbelief. "And if Vader comes back?"

The world seemed to hold its breath; the nexus of events to come wheeled around in the moment - a knife-edge of decision.

Carefully, Kenobi replied, "He won't. I'm sure of it. He had vowed never to return here. He will keep that promise."

"Oaths won't help us if he does." Owen folded his arms, immovable. Death would surely follow the footsteps of that armored fiend and no promise would keep Vader from destroying all that Owen loved if it suited his purpose.

But Beru would not be denied. A nebulous tomorrow was not as important as one small life, even now squirming fitfully in her arms. She looked down into the blue eyes of her future. "Owen, I want this baby." Looking up again at her husband, her warm face sunkissed in the late afternoon light, she pleaded, "Please, I can't have my own. Let me have this one thing. Please."

His voice gentled at her request. "Beru, you don't know what you are asking."

Smiling, she moved closer, tilting the bundle slightly to show her husband the joy of life in one small boy. "Yes, I do. I'm asking to help a child, Shmi's grandchild. She would want you to do this.

"This is a mistake." The reply was half-hearted. Beru knew then that he would give in this once. She asked for so little, giving back all and more for his sake; he could not deny her. And deep down, she recognized that he wanted a child as much as she did.

"No, Owen, he's just an innocent. Don't let your hatred for the Jedi blind you to the love this baby can bring. Please..."

Owen Lars looked at the golden-haired boy, so full of life and potential. And Beru's gentle smile was worth the risk. But it seemed that he could not let the Jedi off so easily. "My missus wants him, against my better judgment."

The farmer turned then, his jaw clenched in solid resolution. Staring unblinking at the Knight, making absolutely sure that the former Jedi understood just what the bargain would be, he said, "Don't think I'm doing it to help you, Kenobi. I'm doing this for Shmi and Beru and even the kid. You Jedi have mucked it up and we're going to pay for your mistakes. But this boy won't. We'll keep him safe but only if you stay away, far away from here."

Obi-Wan began to protest, "We had an agreement..."

But Lars interrupted, bluntly cut him off. "I'm altering the deal. Take it or leave it." Beru knew that the Jedi would have to agree. There was nowhere else to go.

"He will need... training when he's old enough."

Barking with derision, Owen's voice grew colder and cuttingly sharp. "No, no training. He's going to be a farmer, not a Jedi that will go off on some damn foolish idealist crusade and get himself killed or worse." He looked out toward the Tatooine sunset, the twin suns beginning to dip below the horizon. The fiery light washed his face in blood. "You destroyed one young life. You'll not destroy another." Turning back toward Beru, he spat out, "I won't have you filling his head with all this Force nonsense. No training, period. Now get out and don't come back."

"The boy needs to be taught..." Obi-Wan drew in a horrified breath. "Master Lars, you can't mean this."

Now, Owen stepped forward, "Watch me, Jedi. You come back here, endangering this family, and I'll kill you myself." Throwing out one arm, pointing toward the sunset, he spat, "Now, get off my farm."

With that, Owen turned away. Grabbing Beru and the baby, ignoring her protests and the beginning wail of a unhappy child, he marched his family into the house and clanged the door shut. The harsh sound reverberated in the still air of coming night - deep and very final.

Even as Beru tried to comfort the young boy in her arms, the child that would enrich her life for all the days to come, she gazed back through the window at the lone Knight.

Surrounded by the shadows of the coming night, all color leaching away into the creeping darkness, Obi-Wan Kenobi stood there alone, silent and seemingly defeated.

But around him gathered - something, something she couldn't quite grasp. She was of the soil and reality, no mystical energy fields for her, but now, she could almost feel the past and future began to merge into one moment, one place. Here, the tainted beginnings of Anakin's fall to Darkness warred with the shining beacon of a baby's tomorrows. Here, the patterns of the Force widened and curled into unknowable futures. Here, perhaps, the fate of the galaxy would rise or fall.

A baby's cry and she blinked suddenly, drawing back into the now. And looked out to see Obi-Wan staring back at her in thanks. Bowing slightly, he nodded once and turned away. Not looking back but always forward, he headed out toward the Jundland Wastes.

Beru knew then that a new hope had come to Tatooine and... Kenobi's eyes were haunted no longer.