A/N: This story was inspired by the fic "Five Things That Never Happened to Luke Skywalker" by Rynne on the force dot net—check it out! This fan fic is as canon as I could possibly make it. I spent many hours researching online and have read most of the EU novels (go Mara Jade!). I deliberately left all my original characters unnamed and most events take place around the same time that they do in cannon.


This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.

The Hollow Men (Part Three, Stanzas 1 and 2) by T.S. Eliot

The wind that tugs at Obi-Wan's cloak and flings dust in his eyes is uncomfortably hot, even as Tatooine's two suns begin to set. It does nothing to remove the stench of death from the Lars homestead. A scent he has grown too well accustomed to, during the long years of the Clone Wars. The Tusken Raiders have left Beru and Owen's bodies stripped naked, their flesh mortifying quickly in the desert heat.

He is too late. He is always too late.

The infant boy in his arms starts squalling as if he can sense the deaths of his aunt and uncle. Perhaps he can. He is strong in the Force, this one, just like Anakin had been—No, he cannot think of that; not now. He has responsibilities. He hushes the child and sends him to sleep with a gentle Force suggestion. It takes him most of the night to dig by hand two graves through the hard packed sand.

Watching the brilliant suns rise in this beautiful and desolate land, he knows it is worth it.