The weary woman sat down gratefully in her modest kitchen. Time to prepare the next meal. She was weary in mind and body, but not in spirit. Her son toddled into the room, instantly lifting her heart. She anxiously grabbed him up in her arms and cradled him there for a moment. Though he was already two years old, he had not yet been named. It was not abnormal for parents on the planet of Cress to ponder a child's name for up to a year after birth, but never two years. People often questioned their slowness in selecting a name, which was a very significant condition on Cress. They just shrugged it off. To them, he was "son". Nothing mattered more than that name. As she stood up and opened the food cabinets, her husband and other son came throught the door. Her husband, a medium sized man with brown hair and eyes, a supervisor at the local farmer's market, hung up his overcoat. She greeted them with a broad smile and quickly closed the door as the cool air rushed in. Winter was approaching swiftly on Cress. Snowan looked around and felt completely satisfied. She'd had a good life, starting with her full childhood, her happy marriage to Obidan Lars, the birth of her first son, Owen, and then the arrival of her second happy child.

"Oh mother!" Owen gasped as he ran up to her. "You would have been so proud of me! Today at work, father left me alone in the warehouse while he went to do take care of something, and while he was gone, a prarie tiger somehow got in."

"Owen!" She gasped.

"Listen mother! I got the hidden emergency vibro-shiv from the cabinet before it could get too close. I killed it before it could hurt anyone or eat any of the fruit, and I did it all by myself!"

Snowan didn't know what to think. Obidan laughed and hugged Owen.

"That you did, son." Obidan said. He looked at Snowan as if to tell her not to scold Owen for dangerously facing the tiger alone, just to let that part go.

Snowan must admit; she was proud of her brave son.

"You are a brave boy, Owen. I'm very proud of you." She gushed. And it was the truth. She listened as he continued to tell her all about the rest of the day he spent at work with his father, whom he adored. Owen, while only 7, was shaping up to be as simple, resourceful, and single minded as his father, and every bit as brave, as he'd proven today. He and his father then went down the hall, and she could here them speaking to her other little son and she could hear him laughing as Owen tickled him.

She suddenly wondered how her younger son would grow to be: Perhaps like Owen and Obidan, or maybe quiet and reflective like his grandmother, like herself even, eager to please, yet shy and polite. Or perhaps, she thought with a frown, like his great-grandfather, Tam. Though he was her grandfather, she'd only seen him once, though stories and rumors filled her ears all her childhood. She knew he was basically good, but rash and impatient. This much about him was certain: He'd been approached as a 5 year old and, as the rumor went, practically forced away from his family to train in the Jedi Temple. He was an apt pupil, and though his parents rarely saw him, he made them very proud. He was eventually Knighted, but fell out with the Jedi Council when, on a whim, he abandoned a mission to Dantooine and married a runaway slave from Kessel. This was not the first time he'd disobeyed direct order and failed to follow procedure. He began to feel that he should work a little harder towards his own personal gain. He was not heard from in nearly a year. The Council feared he'd turned to the Dark Side. His family feared he was dead. When he reappeared before the Council, now with a wife and daughter, he intended to make everything right and continue his Jedi service. For he was indeed strong with the Force. Though he was truly sorry for his rash behavior, the Council, led by Yoda, immediately banished him. Had Tam turned to the Dark Side, he would have sought revenge on the Jedi. But he did not. He felt terribly guilty, but harbored anger. He moved his family out of the galaxy so that he might never have to face the Council again. He never even spoke of that part of his life ever again. Only once did Tam revisit that galaxy. It was when he was nearly 90 years old and he attended a birthday celebration on Cress for his little grandaughter, Snowan. He died not even a month later, having basically shut himself away from his wife and daughter, who eventually moved away and had her own grandchildren. She herself carried a grudge against the Jedi and accused them of mentally scarring her father and forcing him into exile. Snowan sighed. She had no use for any Jedi herself. Perhaps, if it weren't for them and their strict ways, she would have known her grandfather. It was truly a fantasic story, but she needn't worry. Nothing that extraordinary could ever touch her little son.

After their meal, she put her little son to bed. He reached up to her with his tiny finger and grabbed her wrist. She loved him so much. She stared at him, hoping to see herself. Yes, she definitely wanted him to be like her. She also wanted to see some part of her in Owen, but it had been obvious right from the start that his mannerisms belonged soley to his father. She turned and walked from the room as she watched him close his lovely blue eyes and sleep. She, Obidan, and Owen went for a walk, despite the fact that the temperature was dropping. They enjoyed what was left of the normally lush greenery that was now folding up for winter. The area they lived in, somewhat in the suburbs of the city of Guche, was unusually lush, while Cress was maily rolling plains. She and Obidan walked on as Owen stopped to investigate a falled sapling off to the right of the path. Snowan thought that now would be a good time to discuss the matter of their son's name with Obidan. She wasn't afraid to bring it up, for Obadin was a meek as a rabbit, but strong and fair. He was sturdy, but not at all intimidating. And he loved her.

"Obadin..." She began.

"Yes?" He answered quickly as he seemed to see she was concerned. He could never bear the thought of anyting troubling her.

"Our son...he needs a name." She said.

"Indeed so." Obidan responded. "He is already growing into a fine young boy."

"Have you considered anything?" Snowan asked.

"No. I haven't." Obidan lied. He had mused over his sons name many times. Owen had been named for Snowan's father and he'd hoped to have this son named for him.

"Well", Snowan started. "I've been considering Macen, after my brother."

Genuine regret registered on Obidan's face. He tried not to show his disappointment. Snowan had known him for more than 18 years, so he couldn't deceive her. She read his face completely, picking thought after thought from his every feature.

"Or..."she continued "We could simply call him Obidan, after you."

"Oh, no." Obidan returned sincerely, for he was honorable. "I could not take the honor away from your brother." The regret did not vanish from his face. Snowan could see that Obidan wanted desperately for the child to be named after him. She could see the love for him in his eyes. She felt it. The bond between father and son was strong. For one blinding moment, it made her jealous. But it vanished completely as quickly as it had come. Obidan looked at her with the hopeful face of a child. She smiled. "Let him be named for you."

"Only if you..." Obidan started, but Snowan cut him short.

"It will be as it should. You are his father." She said.

"What exactly then." Obidan said. "Not my name exactly, but something similar." Obidan was clearly excited. His eyes fixed expectantly on Snowan as she made her suggestion.

"Obi." She whispered.

Obidan gazed at the ground as he turned the name over in his mind. It grew on him every second.

"Obi. The first three letters of my name." He said. "Wan. The last three letters of yours. Just as you and I are the others beginning and end, let our names both be recognized in our son's."

Snowan, her eyes producing emotional tears, was first to breathe their son's title: "Obi-Wan."