"Dad?"

Eight years. Luke could still remember the day of his son's birth as though scarcely a week had passed. There had been many tears that day, so much violence in those dark months, such monumental loss and grief and rage. Yet here he was, here they were, happy and healthy and a family again with hope for a peaceful future. Ben had been such a blessing then, a ray of sunshine in the gloom, and he still was. To this day a small blossom of delight never failed to warm his heart each time his child uttered that address.

Luke Skywalker looked down at his young son from the open doorway of his bedroom. "Yes, Ben?"

"Dad...could I ask you something?"

That delight quickly became a mild queasiness in the pit of his stomach. Children often had the endearingly annoying habit of dredging up the most uncomfortable issues possible. Having to explain the origins of conception to the once six-year-old boy, even with the help of Mara, was by far the most excruciating task he'd ever undertaken. Thankfully his wife had the prudence not to make terrible fun of him when the ordeal was over.

Luke led the boy into the room and let the door slide shut. "Of course you can. That's what fathers are for."

Ben flopped onto the edge of the bed, small hands clasped tightly in his lap and a look of obvious reluctance in his gray eyes. He radiated turmoil in the Force like a signal beacon, instantly triggering Luke's concern. There were times in the past where he had felt so afraid for him... "What's wrong?"

"Well...I don't know if I oughta tell you. You won't like it."

"Ben, don't ever hesitate to tell me or your mother anything. We're here for you, always. It's all right."

He squirmed as Luke sat down beside him. "Okay. It's about school."

One graying eyebrow sidled upwards suspiciously. If this had anything to do with trying to buck out of arithmetic assignments again, it certainly wasn't going to go in Ben's favor. Right away his son rolled his eyes and sighed, "Not that, Dad. Something else."

The boy caught on quick. "Oh. What, then? Or would you rather I try to guess?"

"No. Wouldja quit messing around now?"

"All right, all right. I'm sorry. Go ahead."

Ben sighed again, and suddenly seemed to grow old beyond his scant years. "You know...it feels funny being your kid."

Luke did a mental double take. He hadn't expected him to say anything like that. "What?"

"It doesn't feel the same. When I go to school with the other kids, they've all got normal families just like everyone else. You know, normal. And I feel...weird."

"Ben, that still doesn't tell me anything. And you're not weird, no matter what anyone says or thinks."

"Dad...it gets weird when I end up having to study about you in history class."

That brought Luke up short. "Oh. Ah. But...well...I didn't know they updated the curriculum that fast. I must be getting old sooner than I thought."

"I mean...when we started learning about the Galactic Civil War, the first time the teacher said your name, everyone started looking at me funny, like I'd turned into an alien right there in front of them. I guess they felt kinda creepy around me all of a sudden."

"Did they say anything to you?"

"It's not that they all hate me or anything. It's just...they feel like there's something strange about me, just because I'm your kid." Ben gazed forlornly up at his father, his voice low and grave as he divulged his innermost secrets. "They've been saying things to me since I started school, since two years ago. Nobody tries to hurt me, though...they try to avoid me. Some of 'em think I'm some kinda spoiled Jedi brat who wouldn't wanna be friends with anyone. I can hear some whispering around me, talking about me doing magic tricks and being lazy. And when I go up to other kids I don't know and ask if they wanna be friends with me, they say things...about you."

Luke drew a slow breath to attempt pacifying the involuntary, protective anger that flared up in his son's defense. The very quality that gave children their precious virtue could also easily give them the most merciless cruelty of all the ages. He suddenly began to wonder if Leia's children had ever experienced anything of this sort in their own youth. He'd seen so little of them then it had never occurred to him. "Me? What do you mean?"

The little boy's fidgeting only intensified. "Dad...I don't wanna say it. It hurts."

Luke leaned in closer to him, not to intimidate but to reassure. "Ben, you need to tell me. If anyone is hurting you in any way, even just with words, I need to know. You shouldn't keep this tucked away inside yourself. It'll only make everything worse."

He could feel the pain building in his son's heart, tangled in a web of confusion and longing. But that pain, oddly, was not directed on behalf of his own troubles; rather, it was a sense of pity directed solely at Luke. "They say I don't have a real family. That their parents have told them things about our family, how messed up we are and how we don't fit in. They say we came from horrible people and it was our fault so many people died back in the big War and that we didn't do enough for everybody when the Vong aliens came. They call you "stuck-up" and "hermit" and a bunch of other things I can't say, 'cause they're too nasty."

At first Luke was genuinely shocked at what those children were conjuring up. Conversely, he realized exactly who these little demons were: the offspring of slighted political officials and citizenry who had once (and still did, personally) supported the conservative factions of the floundering government during the darkest times of the Yuuzhan Vong war. Strait-laced and narrow-minded folk who, like ex-Chief of State Pwoe and Senator Fyor Rodan, were left bitter over their loss in the power struggle and had no outlet for revenge left but to poison their own children against the victors. He couldn't imagine anyone scraping much lower than that. And to think he believed the Jedi were now welcome to the galaxy with open arms, after eight long years, to boot!

"Dad?"

Luke shook himself out of thought. "Ben?"

"I know you and Mom've already told me some things about us. But I also know you haven't told me everything 'cause you think I'm too little, and you don't wanna scare me. But I'm not too little anymore." Ben drew himself up slightly as if to emphasize his point, sticking out his poke-cleft chin. Then he deflated and put a hand on Luke's bionic one, whispering, "I wanna know why they say those things. I wanna know why I can feel you hurting sometimes, when you think I'm not looking. Tell me why you hurt, Daddy. Please. I'm ready."

Luke didn't realize he was trembling until he saw his own hand shaking beneath his son's.

Several years back the arguments had begun. By the time Ben was old enough to talk and toddle around their home of his own volition he and Mara had introduced the Debate: whether or not to tell their son someday about his family's entire history and lineage, and when to do it. Luke supported the notion of making everything known to Ben in due time, while Mara had taken the same side Leia had once put her foot down firmly on, in which to keep the worst of their secrets locked away in mystery or even subterfuge. Her initial standpoint had been little more than an obvious display of overactive motherhood, though he certainly couldn't blame her for wanting to shield their son from their past tribulations. However, he'd argued, what would become of Ben if the day ever arose in which someone would bring about a past subject beyond his knowledge? Lying as a means of protection, no matter how justified it seemed, would only drive him further away from them in a time of turmoil. These disputes had been some of the most heated and torturous battles they'd ever shared, each spouse screaming over the other until Ben would start to join in the din, forcing them to desist. Eventually they both agreed that getting so catastrophically infuriated wasn't going to be of any help to Ben, a boy who despite his age could sense every nuance of emotion his parents experienced and could easily be influenced by their mood. Their compromise had been to wait for him to reach a considerable level of maturity before either one of them explained the darkest aspects of their past. Ben needed to know a clear definition of right and wrong in order to properly grasp the complexities of the Force and their heritage.

And here he was, all of eight years and three months old, claiming to be ready.

Ready? My own council will I keep on who is to be trained!

Both his uncle Owen and Obi-Wan had lied to him to ensure he would not run off to seek his father like a lost whisperkit. Yoda had not intended for him to know the truth until his training was complete. And that had been so despite his considerably ripe age of late adolescence. Yet Ben's life and destiny did not currently hinge on some insidious piece of knowledge as his own had more than two decades ago. Would it truly harm him to know?

Vergere, the mysterious avian defector of the Yuuzhan Vong, had once imparted to him her philosophy of living in the moment, of renouncing all pretenses in order to act with the purity of self-knowledge. Choose, and act, she had said simply, one profound answer of the universe bound up in that insignificant phrase. The only fault with that belief was a complete obliviousness to the end result. If he chose to tell everything to his son now, he might not experience the consequences for years to come, when it was far too late to make amends.

Luke was suddenly beginning to realize why Vergere had criticized his decision to have a child. The responsibility was overwhelming. The thought of his young son deformed into a creature of darkness nearly made him retch in fear.

I, I, I, she'd mocked him shamelessly. Upon you lies the spiritual health of yourself and all those whom you taught. Is that not ego speaking? You are a Jedi Master, not a nursemaid!

Of course, that had not been his son she was referring to. Nursemaid he might not be, but father wasn't that far down the line. Neither he nor Ben was ignorant. Ben's basic Jedi training had begun very early, before he could even feed or clothe himself. This was not schooling in the warrior or even diplomatic arts, but simple exercises meant to teach him the values of compassion, wisdom, and discretion with his growing powers. If Ben decided he didn't wish to become a full Jedi, he certainly had the freedom to pursue any interest that pleased him. For now, at least, the boy seemed perfectly content to follow in his parents' footsteps.

Luke had thus far taken every effort to certify that Ben had a clear picture of ethics-as well as an eight-year-old could comprehend them. This more or less fulfilled Vergere's requirement of awareness. What made the contention nonetheless excruciating was the fact that Ben was Luke's own flesh and blood, not a disconnected pupil. No matter how well he taught his son, he would always feel he bore the responsibility.

He resisted the urge to reach up and massage the throbbing behind his temples. The violent duel of viewpoints ricocheting back and forth in his brain was rapidly climaxing in a tension headache.

"Dad? Are you okay?"

Ben's face came into focus. He'd been staring aimlessly at him for all of a few moments.

"Is it really that bad?"

Luke blinked, caught off guard. Ben had felt the whole thing, or at least the gist of it. The boy's wry remark helped drain a bit of the anxiety from him, and he actually laughed. "I'm sorry. It's just...I carry a lot of weight with this knowledge. And that's a weight I'm not sure I'd like you to carry right now." He slid off the bed and sat cross-legged on the floor beneath Ben, gathering his little face in both his hands. "I know you want to be a big boy. You want to grow up as fast as you can, so you can do everything you've been dreaming of. But you have to believe me when I tell you...that's the biggest mistake you can make.

"You're still a child, and that's the most wonderful thing in the world you can be. Hardly a day's gone by when I've wished I could be like you again, at least for just one day. You need to take advantage of this time. Savor every moment and make it last as long as you can. You've got a long, long life ahead of you. There will be plenty of time later for you to know everything you want to know. For now, be happy. Be a kid. Trust me."

Ben absorbed his advice in silence. After a minute's contemplation, he replied nonchalantly, "Well, that's pretty easy."

Luke laughed and kissed him on the forehead. "Ah, Ben, my little boy. You make a father proud." He added more softly, "I love you."

"I love you too, Daddy."

Ben lowered himself into Luke's arms, and they embraced. Luke kissed the crown of his head and stroked his back, closing his eyes and basking in the warmth of his son's affection that flowed through his veins and cradled his heart in tender joy.

He didn't know how long they remained like that, for it was irrelevant. Eventually Ben pulled back and looked down at him. "But...I still wanna know."

Peace fled from Luke as quickly as birds took flight from a disturbed bough. He sighed, sad to have their fond moment broken. Kids were kids, and above all they were stubborn. There was only one slightly less painful way out of this. "Ben, can you promise me something?"

"What?"

"Promise me that no matter what happens to you in life, no matter how hard or scary or frustrating it is, you'll always remember to be yourself. Even when you have nothing left and no one there to help you, reach deep inside and find what you believe in most with all your heart, and be true to it. You'll know what's right to do. Can you do that for me, and for your mother?"

Ben set his chin firmly, rain-gray eyes piercing into his. "Yes. I promise."

Most any child could have done the same. But, as Luke sensed, only Ben could truly mean what he pledged, the words etched into the fabric of his soul.

And that was the strongest assurance Luke could hope to have.

"Thank you." He let go of him and relaxed his posture. "All right. It's a very long story. Think you can sit through it?"

"'Course I can. S'long as Threepio isn't telling it."

Luke smiled.

The past would no longer hurt them. There was only the uncertain, but gleaming, light of the future left to guide them all.

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Original cover by Julie. HTML formatting copyright 2002 TheForce.Net LLC.