12 - Sifting for Clues
A hazy, lingering fog just above the surface of the still waters below muffled the near silent movement of the Outrider as it coasted along, scanning the edge of an enormous lake on Dathomir. Half-submerged wreckage and debris from battles long over, revealed itself from within the opaque haze in the shallows. The mangled remains of snub-ship fighters of various origin and model lay scattered just below the glassy surface. The head and forward cannons of an All Terrain Armored Transport broke the surface, frozen in time and thrust skyward like a metallic beast struggling for air.
Rendar had heard of the savage battles fought here, and from the widespread abundance of twisted remnants, he could tell it was one that raged on for some time. As the gossamer mist thinned and burned away under the heat of the emerging sun, the faint outline of a huge luxury sail barge was visible in the distance, floating just above the water. He maneuvered his ship over to it, taking note of its excellent condition as he floated past. Somehow there was very little, if any damage visible from the outside. Either her crew had been killed and it was left unattended, or it had been accidentally set adrift during the battle. Regardless of how she came to be in this ship graveyard, Rendar knew he could sell her easily on the open market. The retractable awnings and masts on the upper decks would have to be stowed in a swept-back position for transporting, he thought as his brain raced with the possibilities. He tried desperately to think of someone that owed him a favor; someone with a transport large enough to contain her.
There was a filthy-rich, Hutt crime lord back on Tatooine that would pay generously for such a high-profile display of wealth, possibly even generously enough for him to finally purchase a second ship. As he contemplated going onboard to look for salvageable cargo his scanner blipped, reminding him of the immediate reason for being here. There was a gathering of large lifeforms just ahead on the shore of the lake.
The Outrider stealthily
pulled away from the barge as Rendar keyed its position into his ‘nav computer.
He would be back. As for this current trip, if all went well with the capture,
he would be on his way back to Tatooine soon with his quarry. A high-pitched
chorus of cries rose from the shoreline. The gathering of beasts he was
tracking had made a kill, and they were fighting over the spoils. Rendar
cinched his chest armor down tightly, checked his holstered blaster, and
energized the powerful stun rifle leaning against his instrument panel. He had
to capture a young one, and it had to be alive.
* * *
I later came to discover that this inner city portion of Mos Eisley was locally known as ‘Pirate City.’ This area surrounding the spaceport had earned the nickname by playing host to pirates, smugglers, guns for hire, and those who sought out their less-than-reputable services. As relaxed as the ‘Pirate City’ patrons of Chalmun’s Cantina appeared to be, they definitely sat up and took notice a bit when five Sandtroopers entered and spilled down the steps into the noise and smoke. The pulsing beat of the music slowed a bit, but quickly recovered as Dan and the ‘Nodes kept the music playing while watching us slip in among the crowd.
Ddraig fell back and stood by the ‘droid detector, covering the
front door. I worked my way quickly around to the back of the room to cover the
rear exit, and Etz stepped up to the bar to ask Wuher about our two marks.
Topolev and Falker stepped into the thick of the crowd, watching the faces of
those around them as Wuher spoke to Etz. The Hammerhead, Nadon, was easily
found, seated in the corner booth, sipping on a drink. They watched him
intently as they moved in closer to his table. Etz moved away from the bar, and
as he made his way past Falker and Topolev he indicated a human in a flight
suit seated at a card game near the back of the room. The three of them moved
toward me. Etz looked over to Ddraig, motioning to his eye lenses with two
fingers, and then to Nadon, for him to keep an eye on the Ithorian. Ddraig
nodded. Falker stepped up to the game table, “BoShek?”
Falker cut him off, “This isn’t about your ship. We need answers about someone you know, and we need them now.
Falker nodded, “OK, let’s step outside then, nice and slow, and keep your hands where we can see them.” Etz, Falker, and Topolev stepped back as BoShek stood up from the table. He gathered his credits and cautiously surrendered his thigh-holstered blaster to Falker as the four walked past me out the front door.
I motioned to Ddraig, waving him over. Together we approached where the Ithorian was sitting. Ddraig positioned himself to one side of the booth, and I stepped up to the other. “Mamow Nadon?” I asked.
His tired eyes blinked twice as he looked up from his drink and fixed his sight on us. “Yes?” came the stereo response from his dual mouths.
“We need information about someone you have been seen with over
the years.” The aging Ithorian sat upright, and looked at me, speaking slowly
with calculated clarity. “Oh? I do hope this person hasn’t gone and done
something foolish. Who is it you are inquiring about?”
“We need to know about Ben Kenobi, the hermit living in the hills, out in the wastes.”
Mamow Nadon stiffened slightly. Kenobi had warned him that this day would come, that it was just a matter of time. The Ithorian had seen his friend looking for passage off-world with the young boy, Luke. Ben had told him ‘When and if I leave the planet, it will be with the boy. Once I am gone, should anyone come asking about me, save yourself and tell them anything they want to know. By the time they ask, it will be too late for your information to be of any assistance to them.’
Nadon took a sip of his drink, “Ben Kenobi . . . Ben Kenobi. I can tell you what I know about him, but let’s go out to the street. There are far too many ears in here.”
* * *
The Outrider was camouflaged like a ghost in the lush, dense foliage near the water’s edge. Rendar exited his ship and moved cautiously along the shore, quietly parting the tall grasses as he advanced on the feeding herd ahead. There were approximately nine of the beasts, with the largest of the males and females ripping the kill to pieces, devouring their meal and throwing the occasional small piece to the gathering of young ones several meters away.
He was much closer than he cared to be, but this proximity was necessary to observe them and single out the best choice for capture. There were three youngsters watching their elders, but two of them had pushed the smallest one to the back of the group, leaving him relatively unattended. Lifting his rifle, he cocked his head and closed one eye, peering through the scope and taking aim on the small one in the rear of the pack. With it squarely in the sight, he toggled a switch from disintegration to high powered stun and waited, listening to the grunting and snarling as the group fed. One of the larger males swiped at another, growling and howling loudly, the sound echoing off the water. As it did, he fired at the small one, unleashing a stream of pale blue light rings that silently slapped the creature on the back, dropping it to the ground. The others continued eating, completely unaware that the youngest lay unconscious on the ground.
Dash reached into a pouch on his belt, withdrawing a small capsule, and moving as close as he dared to the rear of the herd, he silently activated and hurled the capsule into the foliage beyond them. There was a brilliant flash of light. As the startled herd looked up from the meal to address it, he boosted the four foot ‘baby’ Rancor off the ground, threw it over his shoulder, turned, and ran as fast as he could toward his ship. He was almost to it when one of the older, 10-meter tall males caught sight of him running, and let out a horrific howl before crashing off through the underbrush after the stolen youngster, followed by the rest of the herd. They tore through the muddy vines and grasses quickly closing the distance between their now-forgotten meal and Rendar, who raced through the marshy terrain and foliage, vines ripping at his face and arms as he ran for his life. The dead weight of the unconscious Rancor over his shoulder slowed him down immensely.
His foot hit the bottom of the Outrider’s ramp and he glanced back over his shoulder at the rapidly gaining herd. As the interior hatch slammed shut and the ramp lifted to seal, he flung the rancor off his shoulder, dropped his rifle, and ran for the cockpit. The engines lay waiting on standby until he slammed a control lever forward, raising them to full power as he jumped into his seat. One hand instinctively found the throttle, the other took the directional yoke. The engines fired as the repulsors pushed hard against the muddy ground. The landing gear feet pulled clear of the thick mud, retracting as the ship rose into the air. There was a horrible scraping sound as the huge claws of his pursuers squealed across the lower hull as the ship ripped away toward the sky. His breaths were deep and his heart pounding as the Outrider streaked away from Dathomir. The ‘nav computer beeped confirmation as he entered the coordinates for Tatooine. With a safe course plotted, he gently pulled back on the twin center-throttle controls, initiating the hyperspace jump. The dim starlight outside his cockpit window streaked into long, stretched star lines as the Outrider was flung out of the Quelii sector, disappearing into the brilliant vortex of light speed. His body adjusted to the increased velocity as he made his way back to the hold to secure the deliverable.
“Easy money” he muttered to himself, grinning as he snapped the
stun collar around the neck of the Rancor.
* * *
Wailing winds whipped across the open expanse of the Tatooine desert
as an early-afternoon sandstorm advanced rapidly across the flats. 4120 lowered
the shuttle to the ground near the domed entry to the underground Lars
homestead as the front edge of the storm swept over the ship and engulfed them. The small band of troops descended the lowering
ramp into the raging wind and churning bite of the sand. They were barely able
to make out the shapes of several local people braving the harsh conditions to
move two large bundles down into the shelter of the underground dwelling. Their
loose desert clothing flapped wildly in the strong gusts. Danz sprinted ahead to
hurry the locals out of the storm and down into the homestead. The rest of the troops
crossed the open space through the sandy onslaught
to the relative protection of the entryway, before making their way down the stairs into the darkness below. The stone steps had been placed by hand when the dwelling was built. Their sharp edges had worn smooth over the years, and there was now a slight depression in the heavily-traveled center of each stone.
The locals had gone with Danz and were waiting in the corridor ahead. 0600, Rogue, 4120, and Blade followed, with Felth bringing up the rear. He had his E-11 drawn and leveled at the others in the corridor as Rogue stepped forward, “What’s your business here?”
The older man in the front of the group pulled his goggles up into his dark hair, “I might ask you the same thing. I’m Huff Darklighter, I own several neighboring farms that share borders with this one. Several of my farmhands were out repairing ‘vaporator units yesterday and reported seeing smoke over this way. They rode over in their ‘speeder to check things out and made a gruesome discovery. My friends Owen and Beru Lars had been savagely murdered, and the farm had been left burning and was in smoking ruins. I just heard about it this morning when I returned from a business trip in Mos Espa.”
A second, younger man in the group stepped up, removing his goggles. “I bet you did this. The timing fits perfectly with when we were questioned at the power station”, indicating the others behind him.
The young woman next to him now raised her goggles and pulled his arm to hold him back, “Fixer, don’t.”
“We were here”, said Rogue, “And we spoke to the Lars’ about the same missing ‘droid you were questioned about. Mr. Lars said he had sent the two ‘droids he’d just bought to Mos Espa for refurbishing and memory wipes. It wasn’t until we started asking about their nephew, Luke, that they both became defensive. Mrs. Lars held us at bay with a thermal detonator, and inadvertently vaporized herself and her husband when she . . . dropped it.” It was a partial truth, but the gist of the chain of events was accurate.
The younger man edged forward, again held back by Camie, “You expect us to buy that?”
Rogue turned to him, stepping closer “I don’t care if you buy it or not, that’s what happened. I don’t answer to you and I certainly don’t owe you any explanation where sensitive Imperial business is concerned.” Fixer stared back intently as Huff placed a firm hand on his shoulder, silently reigning him in. Another young voice spoke up behind Camie, “So where’s Wormie?”
Rogue leaned his head to one side to see past Fixer, “You mean Luke?”
“Yeah, no one’s seen him since a couple of days ago when he came blasting into the station bragging about seeing a battle beyond the atmosphere” said Windy, realizing (just as Biggs had) that Luke HAD been right.
“Yeah”, echoed Deak.
“That’s actually why we’re here” said Rogue. “We’re looking for more information about Luke and the hermit, Ben Kenobi.”
All faces went blank as a silence fell over the group, then Deak blurted out, “I knew that old freak would crack up one day and do something like this.”
Huff Darklighter rolled his eyes “You don’t know that he . . .”
Deak continued, cutting him off, “I overheard my parents talking to the Lars about him once. He came here several times over the years, asking about Luke, bringing him gifts, how creepy is that? Owen didn’t like him much, and finally ordered him to stay away from the farm and Luke. Beru seemed to always feel sorry for him.”
The wind howled outside, spraying sand down the steps behind them.
4120 stepped up a bit closer “What have you got there in your bundles?” nodding toward the darkness of the floor.
Huff leaned closer, “That’s what’s left of Owen and Beru. We were about to bury them when the sandstorm rolled in. We’ll finish when it passes. These small storms don’t last long, not like ‘The Teeth of Tatooine’ do.”
All the troopers turned to the older moisture farmer, ‘The Teeth of Tatooine’?” asked Danz.
Darklighter nodded, “That’s right. There are several massive desert regions that make up the Dune Sea. For the most part, Tatooine is uninhabited by humans. Only Sandpeople and some Jawas venture out beyond the edges of the settlement areas. Not far from here is a transitional area where two of these regions converge. One is on a higher plateau than the other, and when the afternoon comes, the changing temperatures and air pressures cause the cooling air of the higher desert to shift and rush down into the lower plateau in a blinding daily sandstorm. Its winds are powerful enough to hurl sharp rock shards along that sloping region, shredding anything left out in the open, hence the name.”
0600 tapped Rogue on the shoulder, “We should get back to why we came, and see if anything was left behind that might help us. The tech dome and power generator are total losses. The oil bath and fuels from the ‘speeder and Skyhopper out there made for a pretty intense fire, but the living quarters and the hydroponic growing rooms down below us may still be somewhat intact.”
Rogue nodded in agreement, motioning for the others to follow. “You civilians wait here. When the storm passes, bury your dead and be on your way, this homestead is part of our investigation now and is off limits until further notice.” He eyed Fixer as he headed down the hallway, “Off limits.”
The other troopers followed through the hall until he stopped at a portion of the tunnel that had collapsed. “We’re going to need to dig in from here. Luckily, 0600 and I have a bit of experience with that.” He pulled off his helmet and slapped 0600 on the shoulder. “Right?” Setting his helmet down, he began clearing away some of the larger stone pieces, passing them back to the others to be placed along the edge of the corridor. “It looks like just pieces of the tunnel frame casing broke loose from the explosion. The sand above here is hard packed almost as tight as rock.” 0600 pulled off his bucket and set to work dong the same.
*
The slow-moving Ithorian moved a few feet further into the alley, off the main street and away from anyone who might have wanted to overhear. He leaned against the back wall of the Mos Eisley cantina, feeling the vibrations from the music inside in his bones. “Ben Kenobi, huh” he sighed deeply. Silently he gathered his thoughts for a moment, while mentally apologizing to his old friend, whom he still felt he was betraying, regardless of what he had been told. “I met Ben Kenobi almost 20 years ago now, right here in this bar” he said, slapping the wall behind him with a bit of an unfocused, far away look in his eyes as he recalled the past. “The day had been long, full of intricate experiments with my Bafforr trees, and I had come in here for a drink to help me relax and re-focus . . . .”
“You ever do anything except mess around with those plants?” asked Wuher.
“You ever do anything except mess around with those drinks?” replied Nadon, sardonically, tipping up his glass.
Wuher snorted. “Touché, but mark my words, one day I’ll find the perfect blend, that perfect drink that Jabba won’t be able to resist, and he’ll bring me out to work at the palace as his personal bartender. I’m a young man, I’ve got time to figure out what he likes, and when I do, I’ll be out of this place. What’s so interesting about those plants anyway?” he said as he continued mixing and concocting the next drink.
Nadon tasted his own drink as he formulated his response. “These trees are special. They are conscious. They have a living awareness, not just a shadow in the Force, but a presence in it all their own.”
Wuher laughed, “You a mystic too? Or a Jedi? I could use the money I’d earn by turning you in” he laughed.
Nadon laughed as well, “No, my friend, I’m hardly Jedi material, although I’ve had no problem feeling the Force, at some times stronger than others.” He didn’t notice the cloaked young man further down the bar taking a sudden interest in their conversation. The music streamed across the open room and smoke hung thick in the air tonight. Wuher was busy keeping up with the drink orders for the heavy crowd as he continued. “I paid a pretty credit for each of my trees, and have been experimenting with their Force-presence and the effects of Ysalimiri on them and the Force around them.”
Wuher had stopped mixing the drink and was staring blankly with a dense expression on his face. The conversation had suddenly taken a turn, shifting far above his comprehension level. Nadon smiled a small smile, “It’s not terribly important work, but it keeps me interested, busy, and out of trouble.” He raised his cup and downed the last of his liquid intoxicant. “Thank you for the drink, but it’s time I was on my way.”
As he stood up from the bar, Wuher absently waved once with a free hand as he mixed yet another new drink, another step on his quest. The Ithorian ascended the steps to the front door, and the cloaked patron further down the bar lay several credits down, threw back the rest of his drink, and made his way toward the door to follow. The dark-goggled Kubaz at the table in front of the band turned to watch. Nadon was on the darkened, empty street making his way toward his speeder when the human stepped out of the bar several paces behind.
As the Ithorian climbed into the speeder, the human quickly drew nearer, “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear about your interest in Bafforr trees and Ysalimiri.” Nadon turned his head ‘round trying to make out the face of the cloaked figure in the pale moonslight. The human sensed his uneasiness and reached up, pulling back his hood, revealing a gentle, bearded face. “Hello there. Don’t be afraid, I mean you no harm. I’m interested in your discussion with our bartender friend. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the presence of a Bafforr tree, and was curious about your findings, with the Ysalimiri. I’ve heard rumors, but do they truly emanate an area where the Force cannot exist?”
Nadon leaned a little closer, “I feel you in the Force, my new friend, quite strongly. In the past I felt others with the same presence as you, another lifetime ago, before the madness. Yes, if I recall correctly, they did have Bafforr trees in the gardens of the Jedi Temple, didn’t they?”
Kenobi straightened up a bit, hand moving to the side of his belt.
“Don’t worry, friend” said the Ithorian, looking around the dark streets, “I am as much a refugee as you are. I pose no threat to you, and have no interests in revealing your presence here.” He paused for a moment as Kenobi relaxed. “Would you like to see them? And perhaps judge for yourself about the Ysalimiri?”
After a brief moment of silence as Nadon’s words sunk in fully, “Absolutely”, came Kenobi’s response.
The arborist motioned for the self-exiled Jedi to join him in the speeder. “We don’t receive many visitors, the trees and I. In fact, you will be the first.” Kenobi climbed into the passenger seat and Nadon pulled away into the darkness heading for his home.
Ben spoke above the sound of the engine, “You said you were a refugee also. What happened to make you seek refuge here?” The speeder glided along as Nadon relayed the details of his life as a High Priest and highly esteemed arborist, and his banishment from his homeworld as they disappeared into the night heading toward his small dwelling nestled in the foothills on the outskirts of Mos Eisley.
* * *
It burned cold now, like icy fire in his veins, racing through him, pulsing with his heartbeat, warming and chilling him at the same time. There could be no doubt that his old master was near, and had been concealed onboard the Millennium Falcon when she was dragged onboard. Tarkin’s ‘effective demonstration’ had most certainly sent shock waves through the galactic community, as worlds from the Core to the edges of populated space were now surely learning of the obliteration of Alderaan. Vader remained silent as Tarkin’s meeting closed and one by one the Moff’s top consultants filed out of the room, with the obvious exception of Director Krennic, whose chair was empty. He watched as the last one, senior Imperial Commander in charge of operations, Admiral Motti, stepped silently into the corridor outside. He was an arrogant peddler of the technological might and ultimate battle superiority that this new Death Star would bring to the Empire. Vader detested him. “I should have strangled him when I had the opportunity” escaped his lips and was faithfully reproduced by the synthetic voice enhancers in his helmet.
Tarkin swiveled his chair
slightly, staring coldly at the Dark Lord as the door to the outside corridor
slid shut. “I trust him no further than I did Krennic, but he’s one of my top
men for a reason.” The vein in his forehead protruding as he spoke. “He
understands the necessary show of power it will take to keep the local systems
. . .”
“He is an imbecile”, Vader interrupted. “A child in an adult’s
arena, but we have more important matters that have surfaced.”
Tarkin stood, his brow
furrowing, “What matters?”
Vader paused momentarily. “I have reviewed the helmet recording
from the trooper on Tatooine. There was a disturbing image on it, one which I
have been replaying over and over, seeking clarity and not reaching any. With
the capture of the Millennium Falcon,
I have determined that my first impression from the recording was true. My
former master is alive, and, HE is here.”
“Obi-Wan Kenobi? What makes you think so?” scoffed Tarkin,
standing up from his chair.
Vader responded matter-of-factly to him. “A tremor in the Force. The last time I felt it, was in the presence, of my old master.”
Memories of the violent eruptions on Mustafar, the searing pain of lightsaber wounds, his split helmet, and Obi-Wan’s pity dissolved as Tarkin replied. “Surely he must be dead by now.”
Adamantly Vader replied,
“Don’t underestimate the Force.”
Tarkin was unimpressed, “The Jedi are extinct. Their fire has
gone out of the universe. You, my friend are all that’s left of their
religion.” As he finished his sentence, the comm on the table sounded. He keyed
it on, “Yes?”
The voice on the line replied, “Governor Tarkin, we have an emergency alert in detention block AA-23.”
The significance of the
number sunk in as he keyed the comm again, “The princess? Put all sections on
the alert.”
Vader took a step closer, “Obi-Wan is here. The Force is with
him.”
Tarkin glared at his dark friend, “If you’re right, he must not be allowed to escape.”
Vader knew better what lay
ahead. An inescapable destiny that had been set in motion when twice Obi-Wan
had foolishly left him alive. “Escape is not his plan. I must face him. Alone.”
* * *
Dewbacks shifted around, fighting for space in the small pen adjacent to the entrance of the Cantina. BoShek paced back and forth, carefully watching where he stepped. “How many times do I need to tell you the same thing? I knew of him, and flew a few things in for him over the years, but I didn’t know him, I didn’t drink with him, we never played cards together. He had specific requests and paid on time. The old man was a job nothing more.” Falker and Etz kept their blasters low, but trained on him as he continued. “He was in yesterday looking for a fast flight out. I have a pre-paid job that has me leaving here tomorrow, or I would’ve taken him. I had seen Chewie in the back with Solo just before the old guy came in.” There was a long silence until BoShek realized that no one knew who ‘Chewie’ was. “Chewbacca. The Wookiee from Solo’s ship, the ‘Falcon. Anyway, so I motioned for him to join us at the bar. When he came over I moved down to let them have room to talk, and I finished my drink. I didn’t hear any part of their conversation, it was too noisy. Then, the kid that was with the old guy must have upset old Doc Evazon and his Aqualish friend. They were about to bump up the number of death sentences on their heads from twelve to thirteen when Kenobi pulls out a lightsaber slicing Evazon in two, and carving off the Aqualish’s arm. A lightsaber? Who uses those things anymore? That’s when I moved around to get a better look. Doc had eluded many a bounty hunter over the years, but old Ben dispatched him without breaking a sweat. After he switched off the blade and helped the boy up off the floor, the three of them walked past me on their way to see Solo. Now, I don’t speak Wookiee, and I couldn’t make out what Chewie’s part of the exchange was, but as they walked by I heard Kenobi say ‘He is still alive, but that is all I can say, my friend.’ And that’s all I know about yesterday, I swear.”
“You said you shipped in various things over the years.” said Topolev, “What types of things?”
Falker and Etz turned their gaze to the pilot as he rocked his head back, staring up into the sky in thought. Falker pushed one of the Dewbacks away, as it had wandered a little too close.
“It’s been a long time guys, and it was only an order or two. If I remember correctly, on one of the orders he said he wanted some security sentries because he lived alone. Yeah, now I remember. The order was for six or seven seeker remotes with shock and stun settings only, no kill. I was only able to find ones with all three, but he said he could disable the kill function himself. I think there was an order for cable and cable fastening hardware, some tools, and other miscellaneous things. Nothing real exotic or strange.”
Etz interjected, “Mamow Nadon, the Ithorian from the bar, had been seen with him over the years. Do you know anything about him?”
He thought for a second. “I’ve had a few jobs for him too over the years, but then I transported for anyone that could pay, and that included some of the parts suppliers in Mos Eisley and Mos Espa, the B’Omarr monks, and Jabba himself. The Hammerhead paid me to ship in trees, flowers and herbs. He really likes his plants. And there were a few small animals over the years too. I know he’s really into plants, but why he would want to go to all the work to try and keep them alive in a place like this is beyond me. It’s way too much work. I’d just go live somewhere green and lush to start with, it’d be much easier, right?”
Falker spoke up, “What animals did he want?”
“Little, fuzzy lizard-things. I picked them up from a trader in the markets on Corellia. I think he called them Ysalimanders, or something like that, said he got them on Myrkr, just off the Perlemian Trade Route. You know, in the Colonies, near Tenaab.”
Topolev glanced over to Falker and Etz, then turned back to BoShek. “Where’s your current job taking you? We may need to talk again.”
“Bespin. I’m hauling out some mining machinery that was salvaged from the far side of Tatooine near the pit.”
Topolev looked puzzled. “The pit? I thought this planet was only inhabited in the areas around here?”
BoShek grinned. “Well it is now, but during the Clone Wars, when the Empire was busy coring out this rock, there was a huge facility on the other side of the planet. They did the mining and shipping of ore offworld far away from the settlements, so as not to disrupt the locals. Check it out next time you’re heading out, the far side has an enormous coring entry point. It’s big enough to see from orbit. Yeah, this place is essentially a dead planet. A lot of the core has been cut away.”
Falker was staring at the spacer, sizing him up. BoShek laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back after I make the delivery. This is just the first of several runs. One of the Bespin mining operations is having all kinds of supply problems and labor issues. Any automation I can supply, they’re willing to pay quite well for. I’ll be back gentlemen, don’t you worry. I’ve got nothing to hide, and a lot more money to make hauling the rest of the gear.”
Etz nodded at him. “OK, you’re free to go. If we need you, we’ll find you.” The detainee slipped out of the gate and headed back into the bar.
Topolev leaned over to Falker, “What do you think Kenobi meant by HE’s still alive? Who’s still alive?” One of the Dewbacks groaned.
“I don’t know. What I do know is that we need to attach a homing beacon to BoShek’s ship just to be sure we know where he is”, said Etz. Falker and Topolev nodded in agreement as all three moved out of the pen and headed toward the spaceport.
* * *
Nadon shook his large head, the eyes on his twin stalks blinking slowly, “Has it really been that long? I guess it has. Where has the time gone?”
I pressed him a bit, raising my blaster somewhat. “So, Kenobi was a fugitive Jedi and you did nothing to identify him or turn him over to the local authorities all these years?”
He coughed a bit, then responded. “After we went to my home and he saw the trees and Ysalimiri, the gentle person I had seen in the street was gone. He ignited his lightsaber, held it to my neck and told me that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if I ever revealed his secret, or failed to help him with trees and other supplies he needed. He said I’d never see it coming.” Watching our body language closely, Nadon made certain that his lie was believed. Neither he nor Kenobi had any love for the Empire, and he had certainly never been threatened by Obi-Wan.
Ddraig urged him to continue. “Tell us more about old Ben.”
The Hammerhead drew in a long breath, letting it out evenly and slowly as he remembered the events of the past. He was careful to adjust things ever so slightly, making Kenobi out as a dangerous threat. “When we stepped inside my home he was amazed at the work I had been able to accomplish in such a barren place as this . . . .”
Obi-Wan was astonished at what he saw. “Incredible. You must have
several dozen trees growing in here!”
The Ithorian smiled “Four and a half dozen to be exact.”
Kenobi walked further back into the room, surrounded by the Bafforr
trees. He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes, smelling the richness of the
bark and leaves, sensing the very small, pure presence of the Bafforr stirring
the Force. For a brief instant it felt as if he were in the safety and beauty
of the gardens at the Temple. He missed his home, the only one he remembered
having, and he missed his many friends, now dead. The collective cries of their
voices often rose to an overwhelming roar in his ears.
His eyes flew open as he pushed their screams further back into the
calm of the Force. Memories, he thought. He knew that his friends were no
longer screaming, they were one with the energy of the Force now. The screams
were echoed memories, screams of anguish and betrayal. It was a betrayal by the
Jedi that was his padawaan; his responsibility to raise, and train, and teach.
He had failed so miserably with Anakin, and the galaxy had been made to bear
the burden of that failure. The weight of the responsibility ate at him
constantly, gnawing like a hungry animal.
“Are you all right?” asked Nadon. Ben nodded. Nadon raised his head,
looking up into the branches. “These Ysalimiri, when evenly spaced out, in
relative proximity, not only shroud themselves and the trees from the Force,
they also create an area surrounding themselves that is a deadened zone. In
that space, a Force-user’s presence would be concealed from outsiders. Even a meditating
Jedi could evade unwanted detection. You are more than welcome to come and
meditate here in my home whenever you like. I understand your need to do so
without making any ripples in the Force, giving your presence away.”
Kenobi smiled as he glanced around at the trees, “I imagine keeping
all these plants watered must cost quite a bit.”
Nadon coughed a bit more, as he nodded his head. “I feel like I own
a small portion of Darklighter Water.”
They both smiled. Then Ben
stepped closer to his new friend. “If I were able to secure a way for you to
water your plants without paying, would you grow me several trees and breed
Ysalimiri for each?”
The Ithorian blinked several times at the offer, “You have a way to
do such a thing? The moisture farmers around here own all of the evaporative
units.”
Kenobi nodded his head, “I do. When I first arrived here, I was
given two broken down condensers by an acquaintance who owns a local farm. I
have repaired and restored one to working order, which provides more than
enough water for my needs. I can do the same for the second, and bring it to
you in exchange for the trees and Ysalimiri.”
Nadon breathed in deeply as he contemplated the offer.
Ben continued. “I have a need for an area in which the Force can be
used, without its use being felt or perceived in the slightest outside the
perimeter of the trees, that is of the utmost importance. How many trees and
Ysalimiri would afford me a space the size of, oh say twice the space of
Chalmun’s?”
The high priest from Ithoria calculated the space in his head. “A dozen should work nicely. I’ll get to work on them right away.” Kenobi smiled and twisted a bit of his beard alongside his chin as he began making mental notes for supplies he would need. He only had a short amount of time before the training must begin. That had been the problem with Anakin from the beginning, his age, and too many attachments. He was determined to not repeat his mistakes with Luke or Leia. There was far too much at stake.
* * *