Chapter 12: Desperation
Location: Jundland Wastes
Four hours later...
Before he knew it the suns had risen, bringing with it a heat that was nearly too much to bear. Ben's movements had become sluggish, and yet the suns were still far from having reached their apex.
"So...hot," the boy complained, trying to keep one foot in front of the other.
The wind blowing across the desolate landscape was the only sound that accompanied his footsteps, drowning out the whir of Artoo's treads. The astromech suddenly let out a warble, causing the young Skywalker to turn in response. His worse fears were realized when the droid jerked forward several times before coming to a complete stop.
"Artoo...?" he asked in concern.
When the R2 Unit failed to respond, Ben was sent into a panic at the prospect at being alone. Rushing over to the droid, the boy grabbed a hold of his cylindrical body and tried to give him a shake.
"Artoo! Artoo! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE!" he begged.
Eliciting no response, the boy pressed his forehead against the astromech's hot durasteel shell, eyes becoming blurred with tears.
"This is all my fault..."
Everything that had happened thus far had resulted because he had wanted to get out of having to farm on Taanab. Jacen was dead because of him, all because of his unwillingness to simply accept his assignment. Unprepared to leave Artoo behind, Ben sat himself down on the sand, remaining just as motionless as the droid. Time became an irrelevant concept for the boy, who only stirred when the voice in his head began to mock him.
"He...is...dead," it whispered, "He is dead..."
"No...," Ben whimpered.
"You allowed him to die..."
"No!"
"You failed your master."
"No!"
"You...will...DIE!"
Looming over him was a figure silhouetted against the blazing sun, a crimson lightsaber held threateningly above him
"NO!" the boy screamed.
Igniting his own lightsaber, Ben slashed at the figure, catching only empty air and causing his weapon to slip from his grasp. It landed a few feet behind him, it's impact muffled by the endless tracks of sand. Pitching forward, he collapsed to the ground, the sinister laughter drifting upon the wind. Oblivion promptly took possession of the boy, and he was grateful for the diversion.
Location: Motesta Oasis
Two hour later...
Ben stirred awake, a feeling of nausea swept over him, quickly forcing him into a seated position. He felt something land in his blanketed lap, a damp cloth that had been resting against his forehead. Distracted from the sickness that he felt, the boy glanced around his unfamiliar surrounds. He was lying on the floor of a covered wagon, the shade a welcome change from the oppressive heat. He became aware that both his boots and Jacen's jacket had been removed, which helped to further cool him down. He spotted a grey robed figure seated against the wall of the wagon, a Whiphid with a conical hat made of straw. Standing directly across from him was Artoo, who had been hooked up to an external power supply. The droid swivelled its head to regard him and twiddled out something that the boy didn't catch.
"You've had quite an ordeal, Benjamin Skywalker," the alien stated, staring at him with yellow eyes.
Flooded with panic, the boy was on his feet, reaching for his lightsaber that was no longer in his possession.
"Calm yourself, Padawan," he advised, "You have heat stroke."
"Who...Who are you?" he demanded, "Where are you taking me!?"
Artoo twiddled out an assurance that he was safe, but Ben's heat-induced paranoia prevented him from letting down his guard.
"K'Kruhk. You may call me K'Kruhk," the Whiphid introduced, trying to get him to calm down, "You're onboard a caravan headed for Anchorhead. Currently we're camped out at the Motesta Oasis."
The revelation only served to increase boy's panic, having missed his stop at Bestine completely.
"I can't be here," the boy declared, "I've gotta get back to Coruscant."
"Not in your condition," K'Kruhk advised, "Sit back down."
The Whiphid exuded calm through the Force, and Ben found himself compelled to comply, despite his hesitance. The boy relented and took a seat back down on the floor, though he continued to eye him with suspicion.
"Tell me, what's a Padawan doing travelling alone in the middle of the desert?"
"You keep using that word," Ben said, "But I don't know what it means."
"It is the rank initiates attain when they pass their trials. You are a Jedi, are you not?" he questioned, producing the boy's lightsaber.
Ben reached out with the Force, trying to seize the weapon telekinetically, but found the action nearly impossible. He became briefly concerned that something was wrong with him, that he was losing his connection to the Force.
"Something has unbalanced the Force," K'Kruhk stated, as if discerning his thoughts, "It's as if every Force-sensitive's connection is somehow being blocked."
"But how?" he asked.
"I do not have the answer to that question," the Whiphid admitted, "All I can say is that began not long after that Force Storm."
"Force Storm?"
"You were no doubt caught in it," he continued, "I've only ever heard of it occurring on Tython, but while we were passing through Carnthout, I overheard spacers talking about experiencing it on other worlds."
"So...you're a Jedi then," Ben stated.
"I've been a teacher in recent decades," K'Kruhk corrected, rising to his feet.
He motioned the boy to lay back down and gently drew the blanket over his semi-clothed form.
"Try to get some rest," he urged, placing the cloth back on his forehead, "Supper won't be for a while yet."
"Okay...," he said with reluctance.
K'Kruhk then headed for the entrance, drawing aside a leather sheet that separated them from the desert. He handed over the boy's lightsaber to Artoo, who promptly stored it away within one of his compartments.
"Grandpa was right," Ben said abruptly, "He said I'd encounter help."
"I'm no help to anyone," he whispered bitterly, vanishing through the doorway.