Inside

The large trunk was rather old and worn. It had weathered many risings and settings of the twin suns of Tatooine and had never protested. There it sat filled with things that wouldn't really mean anything to a curious person going through his belongings looking for treasure, but to Ben Kenobi, they were the things that reminded him of the life he once had.

A life which seemed to be very distant from the sand beaten hovel he now inhabited where sand piled up like the memories of his days in service to the Republic. A life where he had been one of the most important men in the galaxy. A life where he had made mistakes which now made him live the life of a hermit on Tatooine. A life that he sometimes missed in the darkness of night when he was lonely.

An age worn hand reached out and opened the large lid to the trunk. He wasn't able to remember when he had turned from that fit young man who had commanded troops on the battlefield and into this older sand beaten man with the weight of the world on his shoulders . It had happened overnight in his perception. One day he had auburn hair and the next stark white. The old man who now looked back at him from the mirror reminded him of that younger man, but this man had seen much more in the way of hurt. The eyes gave away the pain which was still locked somewhere deep in his heart. The pain that was best forgotten until it was needed again.

The hinges on the trunk did not protest as the lid came to rest in its open position displaying all the items inside. They were laid out neatly inside of the large trunk as they had been for many years. When he wanted to remember those days, he would take out each item and look at it, recalling those times fondly and sometimes with tears.

Ben uncoiled the braid that he had worn so proudly all those years. It now laid in the trunk and reminded him that he too had many things left to learn even this late in life. Qui-gon always reminded him that there was still so much to learn about the force and what it could do. As Ben held the braid up it shone in the light of the twin suns which sifted through the window of his hovel. It was the color that he remembered his hair being when he was younger. It even had the highlights that it had gotten while he had been on Tatooine right before his knighting.

Placing it to the side, Ben reached into the trunk and pulled out a small piece of worn cloth. He remembered the day he had taken it from Qui-gon's body. Padme had asked that a piece of cloth be removed from the jedi master's tunic. She had told him it was a Naboo tradition to keep a piece of the clothing someone was buried in. It was a reminder that they were still with you in some way even if only in your heart. Her kind words had been a comfort to a soul which seemed sore and worn, even then.

When he stood in the room with his still master, Ben had approached the body cautiously at first. Finally he reached out hand and touched Qui-gon's face. It had been his first experience around a dead body. There had many since then throughout his service in the war. Jedi weren't scared, but Ben's heart had raced as he had taken the scissors Padme's handmaiden had given him and cut a piece off the hem of the tunic. As he went to the door to the chamber, Ben had looked over his shoulder once more at the body laying there as though Qui-gon was asleep peacefully. It was the last time they had had alone together and he still treasured that moment in his memory.

Without thought, Ben rubbed the coarse cloth between his fingers truly feeling the roughness. It had become rather thread bare in the years he had kept it, but it still comforted him. It was as close as he could be to his master when not communing directly with the force.

Laying the cloth in his lap, Ben pulled a Qui-gon's lightsaber from the large box. The pommel felt good in his hands, heavy and well used. It was the lightsaber he had used to strike down his first sith and the lightsaber his master had carried with him when he had taken the last sith from Tatooine. It had seen great triumph and also great despair, just as Ben had. It had been the original lightsaber Qui-gon had constructed as a padawan to Count Dooku. It still amazed Ben that it had never faltered in all those years, just as Qui-gon never had.

He depressed the button and the familiar snap hiss of the blade coming to life comforted him. The sound was the sound of truly being a jedi and even though he was in hiding, sometimes knowing that his former life was a mere switch of a lightsaber away, felt good inside.

Deactivating the lightsaber and placing it to the side, Ben pulled another lightsaber from the box. This lightsaber was Anakin's. It was the lightsaber he had fought next to Ben with for many years and it was the lightsaber he had used when he had tried to kill his former master. The ache inside from touching the object almost made tears stream down sun wrinkled cheeks, but he could not let that ache win. There was still time to make it right. When Luke came for the lightsaber, it would once again rest in the hands of a Skywalker and it would sing as it had when Anakin had wielded it.

His heart longed for that day when he could see Luke fulfilling what had weighed so heavily on Anakin's shoulders. Perhaps the upbringing Luke had received would make it easier for him to shoulder that burden and not be drawn into darkness by all that it entailed.

Ben placed Anakin's lightsaber on the table and reached into the trunk again, his hand brushed against the next item. He had to reach another hand in and pull it out. The T-visor of a clone's helmet now stared back at him. It sent a chill through him even in the heat of the desert planet. Those who had served valiantly in the war and had turned on the jedi so quickly. Ben had kept this one relic of those men to remember those who had died in service to the Republic. Ben considered them comrades even if their brothers had turned on the jedi, but it wasn't their fault and they should be remembered for all the good they had done. Ben felt it was his duty to remember those who had been lost.

Laying the helmet to the side, Ben pulled out a well worn leatherbound book. Unclasping it, he opened it to the pages of neatly scrawled handwriting. It had first been Qui-gon's and then it had become his. It's where they had kept their journals of their teachings. Teachings that were now lost to all the jedi who had been slaughtered. Ben felt that it was his duty to pass these teachings along to Luke. There would be questions he would have and there would be things that Ben could not be around to answer. This book would be the lifeline to what the jedi had been. Luke could use it to hone his skills and learn from the lessons of the jedi before them.

Latching the book again, Ben placed the book back into the box. He filled the rest with the other items which would wait until there was someone to tell his story to. Someone who would feel that pull that was the force. Someone who was making preparations now for the life he would soon live.