Chapter Text
It took Ben awhile to notice it. An alluring presence in the force, an impression imprinted so long ago that it was easily disguised by the people of Mos Pelgo. When Ben finally did notice it, he was weary of it; afraid that the achingly familiar feeling of the impression was another ghost come to haunt him. Yet, as time passed and he realized that the presence wasn’t changing, neither taunting nor moving, curiosity got the better of Ben. For the presence felt like home; a joyous, innocent feeling that brought to his mind the image of a bright-eyed, brave little boy of time long past.
Ben’s curiosity brought him to the edge of town. Behind one of the far buildings, Ben found CalLix working, his feet sticking out from under a beat up, old podracer. And while Ben had never seen this podracer before, he knew it without a doubt, and he knew it fondly. He knew how long it took to be built, what engine it was built around, how fast it went the first time it raced. Yet while he knew all the joy that this podracer had brought it’s maker, the fact that it’s maker’s joy was so forcefully etched into it amazed Ben, though he knew he probably should be so surprised.
The podracer glowed in the force, calling forth memories of better times, of a brave but naïve boy that had been, and yet would always be, the center of Ben’s world. But it was CalLix’s own force presence blending into it, building upon the joy and love that the podracer carried that caused Ben’s feet to falter. A part of Ben wanted to flee, to avoid yet another painful reminder of the lives lost, of the lives lost. Yet a part of him yearned for a reminder of home, of a familiar soul, of a kind reminder of the good there once was. With an aching heart, Ben caves into his weak heart’s desire.
“Hello CalLix.”
Pulling himself out from under the podracer, CalLix greets Ben with a sure grin but quiet words, “Hello Master Kenobi.”
Returning a soft, if brittle smile, Ben confesses, “I've been told that Master Kenobi is dead. And I've heard from a few more that it'd be for the best if he stayed that way.”
Leaning against the podracer, CalLix inspects Ben thoughtfully. After a second of consideration, he gives a slow nod, and announces, “Then I'll do well to mourn him.” Getting up, he dusts off his hands, letting his serious look melt back into a grin, “That said, it’s good to see you alive.”
“And you.” Ben looks CalLix over, tilting his head curiously, “Though I am surprised to see you here.”
CalLix shrugs with a roguish smirk, “Who would look for a Jedi reject cave gnome on the sunniest planet in the system?” He pauses, then snorts with mirth in his eyes, “Though, I suppose that's why you're here.”
Subconsciously hiding his hands in his sleeves, Ben’s look turns sympathetic, “CalLix, you were far from a reject.”
Snorting, CalLix moves over to his work bench, grabbing a cloth to wipe his hands and busy himself, “Come off it, Kenobi. All us kids thought that the Corps were for Jedi rejects. The whole universe did.” He waves the cloth around before throwing it upon his shoulder, “Hells, with all Palpatine's careful planning, we sure felt like an afterthought to him. By the time he focused on the Pilot Corps, most of us were already gone with the winds.”
Ben’s words are soft with an edge of hope, “Truly?”
“Truly.” CalLix winks, a knowing grin on his face, “Seems being a reject has its perks.”
Returning his smile, Ben tilts his head in acknowledgement, “So, now you are here. Pod racing. Using…” His gaze returns to the podracer, and his words falter with sorrow, “Using…”
CalLix joins him, staring at the aged machine with a wistful smile, “Yeah. Must have been fate I found it… or a cosmic joke.”
In silence, they take in not just the sight of the podracer, but the very essence it bleeds into the force. Speaking quietly, almost tentatively, CalLix confesses softly, “You know I asked him to join me, join the Pilot Corps.”
“I know,” Ben says equally soft, his words kind but remorseful. Not looking at CalLix, Ben still subconsciously leans toward CalLix as if confessing his own secrets, “You were one of the only friends he had made at the temple. When you left, he was quite heartbroken for quite some time.” His words turn wistful as he gently strokes his beard in thought, “I had wondered if things would have turned out better if he'd had left with you.”
CalLix answers firmly, “Me too.” He shakes his head fondly, “I knew he loved flying and building things. And boy did he hate the temple. I had thought for sure he'd join me.” His words turn quiet, another confession, “Thought it’d make him happier…”
When CalLix turns to Ben, a look of conviction forms on his face, “But when I found this podracer, I realized I was wrong.” He looks back at the racer in amazement, “Even after 20 years, this podracer still has his impressions on it. His love of building it, that overwhelming joy at winning, that palpable taste of fame he felt.” The disbelief dancing on his words as he laments, “But all those emotions pale in comparison to his burning desire to help people. When he won that race, he knew his actions would help people for years to come.”
He throws a smirk at Ben before continuing, “And not just someone's current money problem. He knew he was making a bigger difference.” CalLix motions with his arms, as if he was showing off all the accomplishments, “He was showing the world that a child could do great things. That a slave could do the impossible. He was giving hope to the hopeless.” His arms lower as he gently touches the podracer with reverence, his words quiet once more, “Those emotions are burned into this machine, and I doubt they will ever fade.”
The silence that follows is nostalgic, the hollowed warmth when reminiscing on the past. Breaking the silence once more, it’s CalLix’s turn to avoid Ben’s gaze as he says softly, “I don't know what happened to Anakin…” The sorrow drips from his whispered words, “But I can guess.”
He looks up, as if he could see the stars above, and his words come out like wishes, like confessions of the weak, “Anakin wanted a lot of things. He wanted people to be drawn to him. He wanted to light up the dark and give warmth to those that were willing to stand next to him. He wanted to reach the stars and light up the sky. Anakin was a flame that wanted to glow brilliantly.”
Finally turning his gaze to Ben, CalLix smirks, “As a kid I always thought it was funny how you tried so hard to temper that fire.” His tone turns bittersweet, his eyes sad, “But now.. now I see the burns you obtained trying to control a fire that's burned out of control. And my heart breaks for you.”
His gaze turns back to the podracer, his words knowing, “For flames to grow, they must burn. And I’ve seen so, so many of these flames here, bright lives dancing across these sands. Some burn quietly, others burn out quickly. But most.. Most times they just burn violently.” Idly, he scratches a nail against a scorch mark on the side panel, “They will burn everything they touch until there's nothing left to burn, and like a flicker all that remains is ash.” Like a declaration, the desolate sorrow echoes in his words, “Tatooine is a hearth for many a dead flame.”
Giving the podracer a loving pat, CalLix turns to Ben with a solemn look, “So, Master Kenobi, I have no right to say this, but I'm going to say it anyways. Extend yourself some grace.” As the look of disbelief crosses Ben’s face, CalLix continues. “I can feel you blaming yourself for starting the fire, but this planet, this racer proves it was always there. You are just a victim of that flame; just tinder to a burning inferno.”