Star Wars - Kenobi

behind the bar.
    Stunned, Ulbreck looked to see if Yoona had seen the same thing. But she was frozen in terror, eyes squeezed shut. Then a blaster shot struck the floor near them. She opened her eyes. With a scream, she shoved the bundle into Ulbreck’s hands and crawled away.
    Ulbreck turned his own frightened eyes back to the brawl, expecting to see the Wookiee beating Jabe to a pulp. He saw, instead, the hooded man—holding Jabe’s blaster and pointing it at the ceiling. The man fired once at the lightglobe suspended overhead. A second later, Junix’s Joint was in darkness.
    But not silence. There was the Wookiee’s howl. The blaster shots. The shattered glass. And then there was the strange humming sound, even louder than the one in Ulbreck’s ears. Ulbreck feared to peer around the edge of the table shielding his body. But when he did, he could make out the silhouette of the hooded man, lit by a wash of blue light—and stray blaster bolts of orange, ricocheting harmlessly into the wall. Dark figures advanced—the criminal Rodians?—but they fell away, screaming, as the human advanced.
    Ulbreck slid back behind the table, trembling.
    When quiet finally came, all Ulbreck could hear was a gentle rustling inside the blanket on his lap. Fumbling for the utility light he carried in his pocket, Ulbreck activated it and looked down at the bundle he was holding.
    A tiny baby with a wisp of blond hair gurgled at him.
    “Hello,” Ulbreck said, not knowing what else to say.
    The infant cooed.
    The bearded man appeared at Ulbreck’s side. Lit from below by the portable light, he looked kindly—and not at all fatigued by whatever he had just done. “Thank you,” he said, taking the child back. Starting to rise, he paused. “Excuse me. Do you know the way to the Lars homestead?”
    Ulbreck scratched his beard. “Well, now, there’s four or five ways to get there. Let me think of the best way to describe it—”
    “Never mind,” the man replied. “I’ll find it myself.” He and the child disappeared into the darkness.
    Ulbreck rose now, turning the light onto the room around him.
    There was no-good Mullen Gault, being revived by his no-good sister, as Jabe limped toward the open doorway. Ulbreck could just make out the Wookiee outside, evidently chasing after Zedd. The bartender was in the back, consoling his wife.
    Jabba’s thugs lay dead on the floor.
    The old farmer slumped back down again. What had happened in here? Had the stranger really taken on the toughs alone? Ulbreck didn’t remember seeing him with a weapon. And what about Jabe, who’d seemed to hang in the air before he dropped behind the bar? And what was that blasted flashing blue light?
    Ulbreck shook his aching head, and the room spun a little. No, truth was, he just couldn’t trust his besotted eyes. No one would risk his neck against Jabba’s toughs. And no one would bring a baby to a bar fight. No decent person, anyway. Certainly not some hero type.
    “People are just no good,” Ulbreck said to no one. Then he went to sleep.
    Meditation
    The package is delivered.
    I hope you can read my thoughts, Master Qui-Gon: I haven’t heard your voice since that day on Polis Massa, when Master Yoda told me I could commune with you through the Force. You’ll remember that we decided I should take Anakin’s son to his relatives for safekeeping. That mission is now accomplished.
    It feels so strange, being here, at this place and in this circumstance. Years ago, we removed one child from Tatooine, thinking him to be the galaxy’s greatest hope. Now I have returned one—with the same goal in mind. I hope it goes better this time. Because the path to this moment has been filled with pain. For the whole galaxy, for my friends—and for me.
    I still can’t believe the Jedi Order is gone—and the Republic, corrupted and in the hands of Palpatine. And Anakin, corrupted as well. The holovids I saw of him slaughtering the Jedi younglings in the Temple still haunt my dreams … and shatter my heart into pieces, over and over again.
    But after the horror of children’s deaths, a child may bring hope, as well. It’s as I said: the delivery is made. I’m standing on a ridge with my riding beast—a Tatooine eopie—looking back at the Lars homestead. Owen and Beru Lars are outside, holding the child. The last chapter is finished: a new one has begun.
    I’ll look for a place nearby, though if I hang around too long, I half expect Owen will want