Baggage

Ooouli looked puzzled. "They did not leave, silly! They are still at the house."

The second jolt of adrenaline felt more like nausea. Ben scrabbled for the lightsaber at his belt and at the same time wondered whether he ought to try and stand now, or stay where he was until they were actually attacked, to preserve his strength. Ben cursed himself under his breath. He had known that this was going to happen; he had decided days ago that the humans would find him eventually, and yet still he had seen fit to stay with the family.

Shaarm must have felt the children were in danger to send them out here. Although, granted, the danger was not immediate as she had clearly kept them at home until after dawn when any roaming narms would have returned to their nests. But the girls were still out here alone, and Shaarm had not followed them. And where was Chana in all this? The family were under threat again, and all because of Ben. What the blazes had made him stay here? Fear? Pride, perhaps? Or a dangerous attachment?

"What is going on?" Yanto was complaining, towering above Ben. "Why are we debating this?"

"Shaarm needs to see to Nenka's injuries." Kerra added, in support. "Let us go on. They are only Pechnar. It is not as if they are a threat. "

Ben shook his head and would have argued back, but his nose suddenly began to bleed again. He jammed his hand over his nose and just slumped back against Pakat's forelegs. The Kheelians did not understand.

There was a brief but intense discussion. Eventually it was decided that the main group should wait on the road while just one of them went down to the house to check that Shaarm and Chana were all right. Then they should report back on whether help was needed, or if the group should go on to Tszaaf without further delay. The debate had just got to the point of deciding who was going to go and who should stay with the children and injured, when they all heard the sound of footfalls on the road ahead. The Kheelians tensed or spun around. Ben pushed himself forwards, and raised the 'saber. Grandmother grabbed the children's hands, pulling them behind her, and-

Shaarm came over the crest of the ridge. The assembled group let out a collective sigh of relief, and Ben slumped back, arms shaking. The Kheelian woman did not look surprised to see them; her eyes taking in the scene at a glance. She took Pakat's hand and squeezed it briefly, and then patted Ooouli's head.

"You made it," she said, although her eyes fell on Ben, nursing his bleeding nose and leaning limply against Pakat, and Nenka unconscious on the stretcher.

"Barely," Grandmother answered. "What is going on?"

"We need to move off the road," Shaarm said, instead of answering. "In case they decide to leave the house. Follow me, everyone."

Pakat lifted Ben, tucking him into the crook of his arm, and set off after Shaarm. The group followed, as stealthily as a party of seven Kheelian adults, two children and one human could. Shaarm led them from the road and around the back of the ridge behind the house. Keeping out of sight of the many windows, the group cautiously made their way down the side of the dell, and behind the cover of the outhouses and sheds at the back of the garden. Dega peered around one wall up at the house, but all seemed still.

"We are all right," she said. "I do not think anyone saw us."

"Go and ask Yanto to tell Tiki a story," Shaarm instructed Ooouli, with a quick nod.

"Yes, Mama," Ooouli agreed, and, with a curious look back, led Tiki away from the group. Without another moment's hesitation, Shaarm hurried straight over to Nenka.

"What happened?" she asked Grandmother as she quickly surveyed the youth for wounds.

Grandmother gave a hasty summary of the night's events, focussing on their peace agreement with the narms, Nenka's injuries, and Ben's miraculous intervention. Shaarm cast him a shrewd glance but did not ask for any clarifications.

"And you?" Pakat urged. "Is Chana all right? What are the Pechnar doing here?"

"They came to the house at about 23 turns," she answered, counting Nenka's pulse under her breath. "Three Jedi. They were looking for their friend who crashed his ship on the moor. We told them nothing, of course, and that we had never heard of you. The lead Jedi, he said they had been told we had a human staying with us. I told him that a work colleague of Pakat's - a Pechnar - had returned to the city the previous week and perhaps they should try there. Then he asked whether, as it was late, they could stay the night before continuing their search in the morning. Of course, we could not refuse."

"But what about all the salvage?" Pakat asked, sounding fretful. "We are using a piece of the ship's hull as a front door! They must have seen that instantly."

"They did," Shaarm agreed. "Chana said we had been sold the scrap metal by a passing trader, but I do not think that they believed us."

"Did they threaten you?" Ben asked. The adrenaline buzz was fading fast. Pakat had gently sat him against the wall of the shed they were all hiding behind, but Ben's arms were starting to go numb again, like before, and he could tell he was listing to the side. He was so damn tired. "Did they hurt the girls?"

"No, of course not." Shaarm said, shortly. "They are Jedi! The leader, the one that talked the most, he got rather angry when we claimed we did not know you. Or frustrated, perhaps I should say. But one of the others, a female I think, calmed him down."

"I'm pleased to hear it," Ben said, "but I fear it is only a matter of time."

No-one replied. Shaarm straightened, having finished her examination of Nenka, and turned her attentions to Ben. He allowed her to take his pulse and temperature, and then waved her away. "I'm all right. I just need some food and sleep."

For once, Shaarm did not disagree. Yanto found the bottle of biscuit-tea slop that they had mixed earlier, and Ben slowly finished off what was remaining. The concoction was so vile that he almost wished he was fully paralyzed again.

"What are we going to do?" Grandmother asked, after a moment of silence.

"I have to get Nenka to the medcentre, and the landspeeder is still down at the house." Shaarm said. "His life might not be in danger at the moment, but a successful recovery might be time critical."

"As long as the Jedi are here, you will all be in danger," Ben said.

Pakat shook his head, but said nothing. Shaarm crouched down at his side. "The Jedi. They told us that they were your friends, Ben. You are so certain that they are villainous? That they mean you harm?"

Instead of replying, Ben closed his eyes. What did he really know, after all? Nothing more substantial than fragments of nightmare and the scars on his body. But someone was searching for him. He could remember that presence, the mind pushing against the weakened walls of his psyche like burning torchlight. And though he couldn't sense anything right now, too wiped out to feel more than a buzzing of static, he couldn't dismiss that constant thrum of warning he had felt before; the Force ringing like the tolling of a bell, heavy with foreboding.

He did not want to be found.

"No," he sighed eventually, looking up at her. "I'm not certain. I don't know anything. But my instincts tell me that these Jedi are fierce and ruthless, even if I can't be certain of their intent. And I am, therefore, absolutely certain that I don't want them anywhere near you and the children."

And with that statement, he realised his course of action was clear.

"Go back to the house," he instructed Shaarm, authoritatively, gathering his shreds of strength around him. "Tell them you just found me living rough on the moor, or hiding on the farm. Or in a speeder wreck. Anything you like. I'll go with them and find out what's going on. Once they have what they want they will leave you alone."

"Ben, that is madness!" protested Pakat. "You just said yourself you think that they mean you ill."

"If it gets them away from here, it will be worth it," Ben answered, intractable. "Please, don't argue. We need to do this my way. Besides, I have the lightsaber. I can defend myself," he lied.

Shaarm sat back on her haunches, folding her forearms. "Can you walk?"

Ben didn't answer her.

"Or perhaps stand?" She persisted, merciless.

"I tried," Ben admitted, reluctantly. "But no."

"Can you even sit up at the moment?"

"I am sitting up now!" Ben protested.

"You are leaning against a wall." Shaarm pointed out. "That does not count. But either way, you are not strong enough to crush a jubaberry at this moment, let alone defend anyone."

"Aren't you listening to what I'm saying?" Ben snapped, tiredness making him waspish. "We have to get Nenka to help, and we have to get the Jedi away from here. They'll leave as soon as they have me. It's the only way."

There was silence, but Ben knew it was no good. The Kheelians were not going to see sense. Blast those Jedi for arriving now, while he was so helpless! He hated to admit it but Shaarm was right. How could he possibly hope to handle this situation when he was too exhausted to access the Force, and when he still couldn't move anything below his arms? Partial paralysis was not a good way to begin any conflict. They needed a plan, a damn good one, and quickly. Nenka was running out of time.

"Very well," Shaarm said, drawing Ben from his reverie and seamlessly supplanting his tenuous authority. "This is what we shall do."

The other Kheelians, sensing a decision had been made, gathered around.

"I told the Jedi that I was leaving the house because I had received word that someone had been injured and needed medical attention. It will not seem strange if I return with someone who is indeed wounded. We will all go back as a group to the house. I will tell Chana that his nephew has been hurt in an agricultural accident, and that we must accompany him to the hospital in the town. The Jedi must realise that they cannot stay at the house without us, if we are all leaving. They shall have to go. Perhaps they will go on to the village, and leave us alone."

"You couldn't just tell them to leave?" Ben asked. "It is your house."

The Kheelians all looked scandalized. "Ben! Of course not!" Grandmother said. "They are guests! Hospitality must be maintained."

Of course. Ben had forgotten the importance of hospitality.

"And what if they don't leave?"

Shaarm looked a little lost. "Well, we cannot make them. That would be-"

"Uncivilised. Of course." Ben sighed.

"What I don't understand," said Dega, "is why wouldn't they leave? If it is your Ben that they are searching for, well, Chana told them turns ago that he was not in the valley. Why are they still here at all?"

Because they don't believe you, Ben thought. Even if Jedi can't sense prevarication, which he was fairly confident they could, the Kheelians were not natural liars. And even if they had believed that falsehood about the salvaged components of the ship, the house would be full of the signs of Ben's presence – the makeshift chair at the table, the small cup and plate, a set of Kheelian clothes hanging up to dry, adapted for a slight, human frame. Oh, they know all right. They know.

He shivered, and turned his attention back to the conversation. Yanto, who had come back to join them, was speaking.

"...are six of us, seven with Chana," he was saying, stoutly. "Three Pechnar cannot think to hold out against seven Kheelians, Jedi or otherwise."

"Unless they know that we do not condone violence," Grandmother asked. "And that any show of strength will be a bluff. Our peaceful ways are no secret. And what about Ben? We will have to leave him here alone, or he will be seen."

"No, that is no good." Pakat spoke up. "The Pechnar may want to accompany us when we take Nenka to Tszaaf, and then we would not be able to go back for Ben without raising the alarm."

"Besides," Shaarm added, "although Ben denies it, I expect the idiot probably needs medical attention again too."

"He can hear you, you know." Ben added, archly.

Shaarm ignored him. Instead she looked about her, crossed the grass, and picked up Pakat's backpack which he had discarded against the wall. She turned it over, shaking out all the carefully packed belongings onto the grass, and held it up, critically. "I should think one small Pechnar would easily fit inside this," she said. "You would have to sit quite still though, to avoid detection."

Ben smiled, weakly. "That is not going to be a problem right now," he acknowledged. He eyed the backpack Shaarm was holding. It probably was large enough for him to sit inside, if he folded up, and then he would be stuck, unable to see or move, and lumped around on Pakat's back like a sack of sand.

So they were going to finally challenge the Jedi who had been pursuing him for weeks, who had tormented him and kidnapped him and threatened the people he cared about, and he was going to spend the confrontation stuffed in a bag?

Outstanding.

It was a terrible plan, but it was the only one they had, and there was little else they could do without risking a full confrontation with the Jedi. Before he could come up with any further protests, Shaarm and Grandmother were holding the empty backpack steady and Pakat carefully lowered Ben inside. With some shuffling, they got his knees tucked up in front of him, and then Shaarm packed a rolled-up blanket and a coat around him so that he wouldn't slump too much to one side. Once they were done, Ben looked up. The Kheelians' faces were staring down at him through the circle of daylight outside the canvas.

"Are you all right?" Pakat asked. "Comfortable?"

Ben grimaced. "Let's just get on with this, shall we?"

Shaarm nodded. "Very well. Here." She handed down the lightsaber. Ben clutched it as firmly as he could in his weak grip and glanced up at her again.

"Good luck," he said. She nodded grimly, and then closed the lid of the pack, buckling the straps and sinking him into gloom. Ben shifted around as much as he was able in the small space and leaned back into the canvas to wait. Outside, he could hear muffled voices as the Kheelians readied themselves for the upcoming confrontation. Somewhere to his right Ooouli was talking. He couldn't make out what she was saying. A small stone wedged in his boot was digging into his ankle. His head ached, but at least the nosebleed seemed to have stopped.

A slim beam of light fell onto his sleeve, and Ben saw a narrow tear in the fabric of the backpack to his right. Reaching over, he poked at the gap, pulling out a few threads, until it was wide enough that he could peer out across the grass. Shaarm was crouched over Nenka, administering a painkiller that the youth so clearly needed. Her face was taut and worried. Behind her, the other Kheelians were gathering.

So now Ben could see what was going on, and he could just about hear, he was hidden and he was armed. Now he just had to wait. But his anxious, exhausted thoughts could not be quietened.

Was this the right thing to do? Should he really be letting the Kheelians stand between him and the danger he knew the humans presented? Ought he to have insisted that the Kheelians do as he had instructed, and hand him over to these Jedi? He might not have been able to defeat Shaarm's iron will, but Grandmother might have been persuaded, if he used the right argument. Force alone knew the last thing he wanted was to end up back in the Jedi's clutches. But anything was better than letting them stay here, near the Kheelians. Near sweet, bookish Pakat; dependable yet irreverent Chana; stern, compassionate Shaarm. Near the children.

If he could stay hidden, it might just work. It might work if the sheer number of Kheelians now at the house was enough to intimidate the Jedi into leaving. If the Jedi didn't know the Kheelians were non-violent. If they didn't know how helpless Ben was. If Nenka could hold out that long.

A wave of guilt, ugly and malignant, threatened to suffocate Ben; curdling in his belly, coating his tongue with a miasma of self doubt and fear. His arrival on this planet and every subsequent action had led from one crisis to another, and then inexorably to this point; to his family in danger and to one young Kheelian who might already die. This was his fault.

Ben clenched his fist as tight as he could, and breathed deep. Peace, serenity, harmony. There is no emotion. He must focus on the here and now. Mindful of the present. No use dwelling on his past failures. Nor, indeed, on that constant if, if, if...There were a hundred possible futures and they all really came down to one probability. This was going to go badly. He needed to be ready for when it did.

The Jedi, in Tszaaf. He had been like a tempest in Ben's mind, a turbulence of raw power. And he had sensed Ben too, he was certain of that. Would these Jedi be aware of Ben as well? If so, this whole farce with the backpack would do no good at all, and would only serve to both implicate the Kheelians in his concealment, and to impede his ability to fight.

Ben cast out with his stunted senses, but could feel nothing. His own nebulous grasp of the Force was so slight, so ephemeral, that it slid through his fingers like water. Perhaps this weakness would be to his advantage. Perhaps they would only sense from him what he himself felt; a blurring of vague static in the mind. Perhaps his attempt to heal Nenka had weakened him so much he would be all but invisible in the Force, like an echo. A ghost. He could only hope so.

Wait – the Force? When the blazes had he started calling it 'the Force'?

Before he could even begin to start considering that startling realisation, the canvas around him suddenly shifted as someone grasped the backpack. Ben's world pitched and swayed as he was lifted off the ground. As the bag was swung dizzily around, presumably onto Pakat's back, he tried to brace himself, letting out a small "Oooph!" as his own elbow collided with his ribs.

The bag suddenly stilled. A voice, close by, said; "Ben? Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm – ooph! – wonderful," Ben reassured him. "Just don't drop me."

Pakat, muffled, said, "Sorry, Ben. Right. We are going to set off. I am going to stand up now, so get ready."

"After you," Ben said, dryly, and Pakat rose up onto his four legs. Ben just about managed to avoid re-breaking any ribs as the world tipped weirdly onto its side and he slumped against the canvas. He braced himself has best as he could his unresponsive limbs, and then Pakat began to walk. The bag rocked oddly from side to side with the motion.

Unable to see out of the eye hole he had made from this angle, Ben was forced to just lie and wait, listening to the rustling of the canvas and the sound of the Kheelians moving around him. No-one was talking now; he imagined the anxious faces, tense looks. This was a far from ideal situation.

Without any way to judge the route the Kheelians were taking to the house, the walk seemed to last for an age. Ben lay and just focused on breathing, on trying to push out the tingling in his hands and the weakness in his limbs. It didn't work. His thoughts turned again to that first Jedi, the one that had appeared outside the medcentre in Tszaaf, and how Ben had somehow, instinctively, defended his mind; those impassable stone walls, that fortress that had sealed tight around his thoughts. He focussed his attention inwards and tried to find those same structures, and strengthen them. If he was wrong in his theory about being too weak in the Force for the Jedi to sense, then he wanted to stay hidden as long as possible before they became aware of him.

The rhythm of Pakat's motions changed as his walk slowed, and Ben heard him murmur; "We're arriving at the house." The Kheelians walked on a little further, and then Ben's canvas-clad world lurched upright again as the Kheelian sat back on his haunches. Ben shuffled, trying to both sit so he wasn't putting pressure on his ribs and to line his eye up with the hole in the fabric.

"You should keep still," he heard Pakat mutter, low.

"Easy for you to say," Ben grumbled under his breath, but he stilled, having achieved his goal. He peered out through the small gap. He couldn't see the house of course as Pakat was facing it, but he could see the other Kheelians as they approached like a rearguard. Shaarm must be at the front of the group as Ben couldn't see her, but behind Pakat came Kerra and Dega carrying the make-shift stretcher, and then Grandmother, and then Yanto, who was holding onto the children's hands. The elder came over to Pakat's side, corralling the children until they were safely between the two adults. There was a tense silence, and then Ben heard a knock and the sound of a door opening. The front door to the house.

A nasty, suspicious little thought floated up to the top of Ben's mind at that moment, unbidden. He had made himself utterly vulnerable, first by wiping his powers out with his incautious, extravagant use of Force healing, and then by letting himself be confined in this bag. If the Kheelians decided to sell him out to the Jedi to save themselves, then there was nothing he could do about it. He was helpless, and it wasn't a good feeling. Ben chastised himself harshly - such fears were unhelpful, and frankly, laughable. He was entirely reliant on the Kheelians, but they hadn't let him down before. He had no reason to doubt their intensions. Besides, a few minutes ago he had been trying to make them give him up to the Jedi. Their safety was all that mattered.

Distantly, Shaarm's muffled voice drifted over to Ben's ears. She was speaking to someone at the door. Ben heard an indistinct response; Chana, perhaps? Then a new voice. Quieter, higher pitched than the Kheelians, as if from a smaller creature. A human.

Ben tightened his grip on the 'saber again. All he could see through the hole in the canvas was the top of Tiki's ears, Ooouli's shoulder and beyond them, Yanto. The older Kheelian's expression was tense and worried, but that gave Ben little clue as to what was going on. The girls looked confused and excited and just a little bit scared.

Then, there was movement, and he heard Shaarm's voice, closer and clearer, saying, "He's over here." She was close, and suddenly the light was cut off and Shaarm walked past. Ben saw her shoulder and back, and then for a moment, just light.

Then he saw the Jedi.

Ben slammed closed those solid stone walls of defence around his mind and braced himself, ready for the onslaught...But nothing happened. He could sense nothing from the Jedi but the faintest murmur on the edge of his senses. As he had suspected, his own Force exhaustion was so severe that the Jedi was all but invisible to him and, it would see, he was to them. Ben breathed out his relief, softly, and studied the figure that stood with its back to them, just centimetres from Ben's hiding place. The Jedi was bipedal, like him, swathed in a long cloak and hood of dark brown. He couldn't see the face.

"Here," Shaarm called, and the Jedi moved away, following her over to where Nenka's stretcher lay on the ground. The Jedi crouched down by the stretcher and held his hands out over the injured Kheelian. Ben tensed, instincts warning him to keep the Jedi away. But he held himself firmly still, waiting. Trusting Shaarm. After a moment, the Jedi spoke, and his voice carried over to them, barely audible.

"Like I said, I'm afraid I can't do anything for him."

Shaarm nodded. "I understand," she said, although Ben thought she sounded a little puzzled. "Then we must then take him to the medical centre in the town, immediately."

At this, the Jedi stood up, and turned back towards the house. If he spoke again, his words were lost to the rustles of fabric and Ben didn't hear them. Shaarm followed him, and Grandmother stepped up from the other side. Ben heard her replying;

"I am afraid that is quite impossible..." and then all three of them passed out of Ben's eye line again, and their voices were reduced once more to muffled waves of undulating sound.

The group waited, anxiously. Ben strained his ears, desperate to hear something of what was going on. There was the sound of an engine nearby, as someone brought the landspeeder over. Pakat shifted slightly to look, and the house came into Ben's view. To one side, Dega and Kerra were loading Nenka from the stretcher into the back of the landspeeder. Two of the Jedi were standing in the doorway, watching. The tension was palpable.

A sudden shrieking laugh cut through the air. Tiki was looking up at Ben's hiding place with delight; she must have just noticed his eye peering through the hole in the bag. The suddenness of the sound made everyone start, and the Jedi on the stairs by the house looked up sharply. Ben froze, feeling those cold blue eyes fall on them. For a moment, no-one moved. He didn't dare breathe; surely he was about to be seen and then this would all be for nothing. The blue eyes felt as if they were staring directly at him, and he could do nothing but stare back, unblinking.

Then, suddenly, the gaze broke and looked away. He had not seen Ben after all. The Jedi, the one who had spoken to Shaarm, turned around, walked into the house, and disappeared. The second Jedi sat down on the step outside the house. They weren't leaving. Chana was still inside the house, and the Jedi weren't leaving.

"What's happening?" Ben said out loud, throwing caution to the wind, unable to bear the tension, the not-knowing, any longer. For a moment Pakat made no reply. Then Ben heard his voice, quietly, say:

"The Jedi will not leave. They say there is nothing they can do for Nenka and they have to wait for their friend."

Ben sat forward a little, alarmed. "That's not right," he said. "Shaarm said they would leave. We can't go now."

"I do not think we have a choice," Pakat whispered back, sounding stressed and anxious. "Shaarm says we have to go."

"Chana is still in there. We can't leave him here alone!" Ben hissed.

Then a soft shadow fell across them, and a quiet voice answered; "He will not be alone."

It was Grandmother. She was crouched down at Pakat's side, as if she was speaking to Tiki, though her voice was pitched to carry to Ben.

"Do not worry," she said, and then she laid her hand gently against the bag. Ben felt a soft pressure and the warmth of her hand through the canvas onto his back.

"Be well, Ben," she said, simply, and then she was gone. The warmth faded away.

Before he could even think to react, Pakat was moving again. He said "Come on, Ooouli. Quickly now." The bag swung disconcertingly and then Ben felt it being set down. There was the hum and vibration of an engine: he was placed into the landspeeder. He felt someone sitting down at his side, and heard Ooouli say "Are we going somewhere, Mama?"

Ben shoved the canvas with his hand and a small gap of light appeared beneath the lid of the bag. He peeked out. The backpack was tucked into the 'speeder, the girls beside him, and Nenka laid out in the rear. He could see the house behind them and standing in the doorway was Grandmother, with Yanto, Dega and Kerra at her back. The Jedi who had been watching them looked very small on the steps beside them.

"Take care of them," Grandmother called out as Shaarm and Pakat climbed into the front of the 'speeder, her voice soft and distant.

"We will," Shaarm answered. She revved the engine, and the speeder took off. As Ben looked back, another Kheelian came to the doorway of the house. Chana. Ben saw him wave, once, before the 'speeder rose up over the edge of the hollow and turned the corner.

The house was lost from view.

AN Thank you as ever for all your reviews and comments; they've kept me motivated through some tough times x