Chapter 38: A bump in the way forward

13 BBY – 11 months – 27 days

~ on the planet Yemer ~

Varda woke in the dark, her ears filled with a drumming roar. She blinked a few times before the noise resolved itself into the sound of driving rain. The wind howled over the little half-underground guesthouse where she had slept for a second night on her visit with Ava Gerges.

A flash of lightening lit up the room in the same instant as thunder crashed overhead. In the swift light, Varda looked across the room and saw that the cot Cheethwet had set up to spend the night was empty. She sat up in bed, pulling the light covers close around her for comfort more than warmth, and watched out the window as lightening strike after purple lightening strike cracked the red-black sky and lit up an alien world of rain-lashed rocks and cacti sitting immovable amid swaying broom and sagebrush dashed back and forth in the wind. This was the beginning of the rainy season, and Varda had never seen it like this before, not out here with the open desert plain stretched out beyond her window.

What time it was, Varda didn't quite know, but it felt in her bones like early morning, the morning of the day Ahsoka was supposed to pick her up and return her to Nechako – not just her, but the starship for Devin and Shie, if Ahsoka had indeed found a replacement for the one she blew up on Takodana. It occurred to Varda, as she watched the storm, wishing she could stay longer, that she wasn't sure she would be able to get back to the exact spot where Ahsoka dropped her off and Ahsoka didn't have the coordinates to pick her up anywhere else. Reluctantly, she turned from the flashing light of the storm and squinted into the little backlit screen on her comm.

She tried Ahsoka's contact code more than once, but each time was the same error message: no reception. She held the comm right up against the glass window, but still no result. Varda scowled and sighed through her nose. She had been hoping to spend some more time in Ava Gerges' garden, but finding a way to contact the young Jedi – former Jedi – would need to be her priority after sunrise. Lying down again, she pulled the covers over her head and decided to get some more sleep.

Now-now-now-now! Like a thousand voices all talking excitedly at once. That was the Force-feel in the air when Varda woke again in the pale pre-dawn light to the woody ring of the singing stick beating out a rhythmic call to the Morning Chant. She quickly pulled on her clothes, brushed her teeth at the basin of water set out on the side-table and scraped her hair into a tight little bun, then stepped out into the new morning.

Varda took a deep breath. The sky above was deep turquoise streaked with pink clouds and the air felt like something she could drink, crystal clear and still laden with moisture, smelling of pungent herbs and wet ground. Everywhere she looked, the form and hue of things was altered. Smooth rocks that yesterday were mottled grey-brown now bore tiny forests of black moss and creamy lichen. The broom trees bore a fuzzy crop of little new dark green leaves and the long spikes of the Vitalis plants, as she walked past and ran her hand along them, were turgid with water, full almost to bursting and already sprouting feathery flower-stalks at the base of each huge spike. This was what Varda loved about the desert; it knew how to bide its time through a dry spell and then burst back to life as soon as the rain returned.

Halfway along the narrow trail to where Ava Gerges waited beside the tall cactus, where yesterdays' chants and rites had been carried out, Varda heard the rapid padding of bare feet on wet ground coming up behind her. Turning, she saw Cheethwet, the hood of their brown cloak thrown back, carrying a big clay urn on one shoulder, round eyes shining in the pale morning light. As they came closer they slowed down and stopped where Varda was, making a little upward nod of their head, a Yemerian greeting.

Varda gave a little bow in return. "My friend Lu Mang told me that the beginning of the rainy season is a very special time here. It's the first time I could witness it in person."

Cheethwet took the urn down from their shoulder and produced a ladle. Dipping it into the urn and saying something that Varda took to mean Drink!, they held it out to her. Varda took it. The liquid inside the wooden bowl of the ladle was clear. Lifting it, she carefully poured a bit into her mouth without letting it touch her lips.

It was what she thought it was, but it still sent a pleasant shiver down her spine and made her eyes feel even more wide-awake open than before: water, pure water. "From the rain last night?" she asked.

Cheethwet nodded enthusiastically, opting for a foreign gesture this time, and they walked on together to meet Ava Gerges for the Morning Chant.

The Morning Chant flowed with all the freedom of water, Ava Gerges and Cheethwet smoothly alternating Basic and Yemerian as the sun's gold disc broke into the sky. Varda even sang along softly to the parts that were in Basic, whenever she knew the words, and even though her voice was rough it still somehow felt right. She ached to stay in this place, not to go back to Nechako, to call Ahsoka and tell her that no, she did not need to come and pick Varda up. But even as that fantasy grew vivid in Varda's mind, she realized it was pulling her out of the very moment she craved to be in, and brought her thoughts back to where she was, standing beside Ava Gerges and Cheethwet, the oldest and newest members of the monastery, there in the light of the rising sun.

But once the Chant was finished and they were all walking along the narrow path back to the low mound of his house together - first Ava Gerges, who tended to walk rather quickly with his long legs, then Varda and last of all Cheethwet, who, though faster than Varda even with a water jug to carry, had gestured for her to go first – Varda decided she had better find a way to contact Ahsoka sooner rather than later. She cleared her throat. "Ava Gerges, I have a small problem," she began.

He looked back over his shoulder, eyebrows doing a little dance as his mouth attempted not to smile. "A small one only? That's excellent!"

Varda laughed. "I hope it's small, as in I hope it can be easily solved. I had asked someone to pick me up and she doesn't have the coordinates for where I am now. I need to contact her but I can't seem to get any reception here. What might I do?"

Ava Gerges sighed. "I'll admit that's part of why I chose to live out here, but it is rather inconvenient for my guests. However, I'm heading to the mountains today – it's time I did another retreat – and I could take you partway along to a spot where reception might be better."

Varda was about to thank Ava Gerges for the suggestion when Cheethwet tapped her shoulder and then broke in with a string of clicks and whistles.

"Oh, if you're going that way, that would be perfect!" Ava Gerges said, walking sideways now so that he could half-face Varda more easily. "Varda, Cheethwet is heading to the river today – its the beginning of the rainy season, and the Yemerians have a ritual for welcoming the return of the flow of the water – and you'll get reception faster if you head that way with them."

"Oh, thank you!" Varda said, turning to give Cheethwet an appreciative nod and smile before sucking in a sharp breath. The pain in her hip, usually ever-present but dull and bearable, came in a sharp stab radiating up into her back this time.

Cheethwet held her arm to steady her. "Are you alright?" Ava Gerges asked, looking concerned. He stopped in the middle of the path to wait for her.

Varda drew a deep breath and willed the pain away. "Yes, I'm alright," she insisted.

Ava Gerges scowled, eyeing Varda's uneven gait critically now as they went the last few metres to his house. "It might be good to get that looked at," he told her. "How long has it been like this?"

"A while," Varda said, which was true. She had started noticing one leg being more reluctant to move than the other early in the summer back on Hokto, which made it at least a standard year if not more, though to be fair, it hadn't been this bad for that long. Perhaps the sudden change in the weather had affected it. Probably she had been a little rough on her joints the day before, walking up and down the slanted sides of the hollows in Ava Gerges' garden. Certainly the fight with the Inquisitors, just a few days prior, had taken its toll.

The Inquisitors. The thought of them passed through Varda's mind like a heavy cloud, darkening the bright morning. She made a mental note to talk more with both Devin and Ahsoka about that threat when she was back on Nechako. She would need to be in better condition if she had to face another fight.

"I'll try to see a doctor sometime soon," Varda said aloud, bringing her thoughts back to Ava Gerges' concern. She wondered, privately, whether there was a doctor on Nechako or not. It seemed rather remote, that place where Devin lived, hardly another dwelling in sight on the flat prairie.

"Well, please do take care of yourself. Remember what I said about being well!" Ava Gerges told her.

When goodbyes had been said and Varda riding along in the passenger seat of Cheethwet's boxy cargo-speeder, she watched the desert scrub whizz by – broom and cacti, sagebrush and succulents all wet and glistening in the morning sun – and wondered yet again if there weren't some way to come back to Yemer to stay. Not right away perhaps, but if she could finish giving Devin the help he needed with his soil contamination problem, and set him up to be ready to defend himself if the Inquisitors came again, then she could make her home base here on Yemer as she continued work on the other projects she had promised herself to.

By the time Cheethwet pulled the speeder to a stop, huge cumulus clouds were gathering in the sky again. The sun too was half-shrouded, and the way its silvery light reflected off the grey rain-heads gave the desert plain an ominous feel.

Cheethwet pointed to the sky and mimed one-finger typing something onto their wrist the way they'd seen foreigners make calls from their comms. Glancing up at the forbidding sky, Varda pulled out her comm and narrowed her eyes at it. It beeped. There was a message from Ahsoka, and Varda hoped she hadn't made the younger woman worry.

Just wrapping up some business, it read. Will be in-system within a few hours. Where should I pick you up? Please text coordinates.

"Is it OK for my ride to pick me up here?" Varda asked Cheethwet, remembering that there were certain areas where the monastery preferred to restrict air traffic.

Cheethwet, who had been rummaging through compartments in the dashboard of the speeder while Varda read the message, pulled out a piece of slate and a stick of chalk and brandished them proudly. "YES," they wrote in awkward Basic characters.

Varda smiled fondly as she thumbed in a quick reply to Ahsoka on the comm's tiny keyboard. She input the coordinates from the comm's navi-link, hit Send on the message and then put her comm away.

Cheethwet, meanwhile, was diligently scribbling on the slate tablet. They handed it to Varda with one hand while pointing into the distance to the right with the other.

Varda's distance vision wasn't what it used to be, but there did seem to be a domed structure of some kind some kilometres away on the desert plain, and she could sense what felt like a cluster of sentient life in the same direction. She looked down at the tablet and read the message.

Hospital is there. Maybe go and look at bad leg?

Varda glanced at Cheethwet. Yemerians didn't really smile but her companion was sitting up with a bright look in their eyes, as if rather pleased to have made the suggestion.

Varda looked back down at the tablet, brow furrowed. She did want to get her hip looked at, and would rather go to the monastery hospital than anywhere else. Yet it hardly seemed fair to take up space that might be needed for local patients, given the difficult circumstances around the Dead Zone.

Cheethwet drew their cloak closer around them as a chill wind began to sweep up from behind the parked speeder. Varda looked up at the sky, then at the landscape immediately around them. Rain clouds were gathering overhead, and there was nothing but broom and sagebrush for cover in the couple of hours she would have to wait before Ahsoka showed up. Then she had an idea.

"Thanks, yes, I think I will visit the hospital while I have the chance," she told Cheethwet, who immediately restarted the engine. The best way, Varda decided, was to split her risk. She could go to the hospital, ask if they had time to see her. If they did, good. If not, she could ask to wait out the rain there. As the speeder ate up the distance to the hospital and the next onslaught of rain began to fall, Varda texted another message to Ahsoka, letting her know where she would be.

The hospital seemed oddly quiet as Varda made her way down the stairs to the disinfectant-scented waiting room after saying goodbye to Cheethwet. In fact, there was not a single person sitting on any of the empty benches there and even the intake room sat open and empty.

Varda poked her head down the hall nearby. Several of the cubicles, curtained off in green drapes that reminded Varda rather distinctly of military medical units she'd been in, were open but she didn't see anyone who looked like staff.

"Is anyone here?" she called.

"Just a minute!" a female voice replied from down the hall, and in a few minutes there was Dr. Unayat, in green medical scrubs rather than grey monastic robes now, though her lekku were still tied back in a headscarf and she still wore her stone amulet, plain to see next to her stethoscope. Her face lit up and little crow's feet crinkled in the corners of her eyes as she gave a broad smile.

"Varda! So good to see you again!" she sang out, but then her brow furrowed. "Nothing is wrong, I hope?"

"Nothing new, at least. If you have space today, I was hoping that someone could advise me on how to take care of a problem I've been having with my hip."

"Of course! The clinic is closed today – it's a local holiday, the first day of rain – and Dr. Gunma is out on some emergency calls, but I'll be with you as soon as I can."

Varda followed Dr. Unayat down the hall. Most of the cubicle doors were open, privacy not being a big concern for most Yemerians, and Varda glanced curiously from one side of the hall to the other. All the patients she could see were quite small for Yemerians, maybe sixty centimetres tall if they were to stand up, and she remembered what Dr. Gunma has said about the children of the Dead Zone needing treatment. She felt a little sick, seeing this in person, but tried to focus on the positive: they were getting care, and the weave of the Force around her spoke of their resilience in the face of their ill fate.

Midway down the hall, Dr. Unayat gestured to an empty cubicle. "Please take a seat. I'll be with you as soon as I can."

Varda went in and sat down on the edge of the hospital bed, running her hand along a bed-spread made of material the same colour and texture as the green cubicle curtains. Definitely military surplus, though not from the clone wars. The memories in the fabric of the Force were of a smaller, more local conflict, just barely discernible under the more recent impressions of doctors and patients from the monastery hospital.

Yet in that unsurprising tangle of Force-impressions, one thing surprised Varda. Somewhere in that web of energies, Varda felt something of Eo.

She gave her head a hard shake, but the irrational feeling didn't go away. It unsettled her and made her eyes prick with tears. She didn't want to bring those tears to her consultation with Dr. Unayat, and so she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Searching for something more rational, she reminded herself, like Ava Gerges said, that whatever she felt was normal. It was normal for the mind to fabricate the presence of someone they missed, neurons misfiring in an effort at consolation.

Soon there were footsteps in the hall, and the Twi'lek doctor was walking into the room, datapad in one hand for taking notes. She pulled up a little stool and sat down.

"Tell me about your problem," she said. "I see that the way you walk is uneven. Does it give you much pain?"

Varda winced. As a Jedi, filtering out pain was something she was very good at, so saying it didn't usually hurt much wouldn't give a very accurate picture.

"It hurts sometimes more than others. This morning it was particularly bad. I was helping in Ava Gerges' garden yesterday, and doing some other...strong physical activity a few days before that," she said, deciding that Dr. Unayat didn't need to know about the Inquisitors.

"How long has it been like this?"

"I first noticed it a year or two ago."

"And how would you describe the pain?"

"Sometimes it only feels stiff, sometimes it's a dull ache, sometimes it's a grinding pain. But sometimes it kind of stabs all of a sudden down through here," she brushed her palm from her left hip down along the outside of her thigh, "and into my knee and here," she gestured vaguely to her left buttock.

"And is it worse when it rains?"

Varda had to think. Prior to today's rain, the last rainy season on Hokto was at least a year ago in standard time. "I would say so, though I haven't been around rain much for the last while, except here today."

Dr. Unayat scribbled a few notes on the datapad and then got up from her seat. "I'll need to do an x-ray, but first, a physical examination. Can you lie down?"

Varda shifted and stretched out on the hospital bed. Dr. Unayat took her left foot in one hand and her left knee in the other. "Tell me if it hurts," the doctor said, and began to move Varda's leg into various positions, bending and straightening it.

Varda made a face. "It hurts the whole time, but it hurts more when you bring my knee up to my chest."

"I see." The doctor gently brought Varda's leg back to rest. "I suspect you have rheumatoid arthritis, but I would like to do an x-ray to confirm."

She pulled out a green bundle from under the bed. Varda sat up.

"Please change into this medical gown. I'll be back shortly with the x-ray machine."

Dr. Unayat whisked out of the cubicle. Varda peeled out of her tunic, slipped the medical gown over her head and then took off her shoes and pants from underneath, folded the taken-off clothes nicely and set them on the bed beside her, and proceeded to wait.

It was still there, just like Eo. Quiet. Determined. Far more going on beneath the surface than met the eye. It felt like more than a trick of her mind, but Varda accepted it for what she thought it was: her subconscious self trying to process. It brought a gentle ache, but she didn't want to ache to go away. It was nice, almost, to feel like Eo was here and Varda didn't want that to go away. Eo had wanted to go to Yemer, after all.

The anti-grav of the x-ray machine trolly groaned as Dr. Unayat pushed it into the cubicle. "It's old, but it works," the doctor said, almost apologetic. It was a grey-brown metallic column almost as tall as Dr. Unayat herself. She undid a series of latches down one side and it expanded out, accordion-like, to become two flat panels facing each other. A short cord connected her datapad to one of them.

"Please stand in the middle," Dr. Unayat instructed.

Varda obediently sidled between the twin plates, bare feet cold on the clay floor. Soon she could feel a slight buzz through her body as the radiation turned on. She tried to hold still.

The doctor smiled reassuringly. "Until when are you staying with us?" she asked, by way of small-talk.

"I'm leaving today, unfortunately."

"Oh, so soon! What a pity! You must come again and we can talk more next time."

"I hope to come again for Cheethwet's vow-taking ceremony," Varda said, still trying to place why Dr. Unayat remembered her so strongly, then something niggled in her mind. "You took your vows sometime not long after we last met, didn't you?"

The Twi'lek's head-tails twitched slightly and her smile turned rueful. "Yes, right on the one-year anniversary of my divorce!"

Varda felt the x-ray buzz go out of her body, and tried to think of the right thing to say. "I don't know whether to say I'm sorry to hear it or congratulations, but perhaps both are in order."

"Some things are better ended," Dr. Unayat said softly. "He donated the things for the hospital, from his military unit, so I can't complain. I was glad though, to have the chance to talk to you back when I was in the midst of it." She motioned Varda back to the hospital bed, disconnected her datapad and began folding up the machine.

"I'm glad that we could talk, and I'm glad we could meet again," Varda said, remembering at least a little now of the middle-aged Twi'lek woman she'd shared a room with on one monastery visit, dark purple bags under her eyes from too many tears and too little sleep.

A much calmer and more well-rested Dr. Unayat got those little crows feet in the corners of her eyes again as she smiled warmly. "Do come again!" she said. "But in the meantime, I regret this does not look good."

She passed the datapad to Varda. "As I suspected, you have developed rheumatoid arthritis. The cartilage here has worn thin," the doctor explained, tracing her finger along the black-and-while x-ray image of the ball-and-socket joint where Varda's thigh bone met her pelvis a little too closely.

"I see," Varda said. "What should I do?"

"Cartilage is very difficult to regenerate, especially as we age, but I can give you some exercises that will help your muscles support the area better. And I can prescribe a few things to slow the degradation and help with the pain."

Varda felt more daunted than she cared to admit; she chided herself inwardly for forgetting that she was old enough now that problems like this weren't going to go away. But she cooperated as the doctor guided her through a series of leg lifts and knee bends that she could do lying down, and accepted a slim disc with her prescriptions on it.

"I should continue with my other patients, but it's good that you came for help. And good to see you again."

"Thank you!" Varda said, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed again now. "I wonder, may I wait inside until my ride comes? I think it's still storming outside."

"Yes, of course!"

"And where might I find the refresher?"

The doctor gave her a blank look. "Oh, you mean the toilet!" she said, trying not to laugh. "It's at the end of the hall. Please make yourself at home."

Varda gave a little chuckle herself, remembering now that Dr. Unayat had lived her whole life on Yemer, whether in the capital or here at the monastery.

After saying goodbye to the doctor, Varda took her time, pulling on her pants and then her shoes before taking off the hospital gown and putting on her tunic. When that was done, she got up, a little sore from the range-of-motion exercises, and set off down the hall. The olive-green curtains that formed the cubicles on either side of the hallway definitely had not only the look but the feel of military surplus: the stress and grind of battle still echoed beneath more recent imprints in the Force that spoke to the care and pain of the current hospital setting.

Physically and in the Force, those walls were thin. Varda could hear, not too far ahead of her, Dr. Unayat's voice speaking in Basic to a patient: "How are you feeling?" A humanoid voice growled something unintelligible in response.

A sharp pain in Varda's hip forced her to stop for a moment, one hand bracing against a support pole between the curtains. As she stood there alone in the hall, steadying herself with one deep breath after another, Varda had a growing sense yet again of Eo, like a scent in the air, unseen but unmistakable. If the Force-feel of those military surplus hospital curtains brought with it faint images, barely discernible, of soldiers gritting their teeth in pain from blaster wounds and worse, this other Force-sense of Eo brought with it sharply clear images of Eo and water: Eo rowing the boat across the lake to get parts from the wreck of Ava Yen's starship, Eo lugging water up from the lake to pour at the feet of thirsty plants in the garden, rain falling around the little hut back on Hokto as Eo held her digital file reader up to the pale light, trying to read.

"If you really wanted to help me, you would give me more sedatives." The voice came from a cubicle somewhere nearby, ahead and to the left of Varda.

"You don't need more sedatives," Dr. Unayat's voice came, stern.

"I'm awake. That means I need more sedatives."

Varda scowled. There was something just a little familiar about that voice that she couldn't quite place. Familiar and infuriating.

Dr. Unayat didn't answer, and the conversation between doctor and patient fell silent. Varda was left with only the sound of her own muffled stump-step gait along the packed clay floor.

A few steps forward down the hall, and that sense of Eo was so strong that, without thinking, Varda turned her head to her left, where the feeling seemed to come from.

The curtain of the cubicle was just slightly open, but open enough for Varda to see. And when she saw, her stomach lurched. The ground felt like it shifted sideways under her.

There, on the other side of the curtain, sitting upright on a hospital bed, was Ry Kyver. Her dark wavy hair was cut short and stood out around her oval head, quite unlike the long mane she had sported earlier, but her face was the same grey face Varda had seen in the vision on Iwaki, and her eyes were the same yellow eyes, dull and sullen rather than flashing in triumph now, but still the same eyes. Ry was glaring at Dr. Unayat, whose back was turned to Varda as she changed the dressing that covered the IV drip connection to Ry's left arm.

For a moment, Varda just stared. It was all she could do.

As if sensing something, Ry turned her head to look at the gap in the curtain where Varda was standing. Varda quickly moved aside.

"Wait, who is that?" Ry demanded.

"Another patient," Dr. Unayat said. "Never mind."

"She looks like someone I know."

"I doubt it. Now get some rest."

"Tell her I want to talk to her."

Varda didn't hear Dr. Unayat's mumbled reply. She shut herself in the little curtained-off lavatory cubicle and sat down on the cold duraplast toilet seat with her head in her hands and tried to think.

Ry Kyver was here.

Last week, this knowledge would have driven Varda out of her mind. Now, she found that she could indeed think clearly and rationally. Now, it was not about her own anger or her own vengeance. Ry Kyver was here, and she was no small danger to this tiny Siluan community, no matter what unfathomable circumstance had brought her to the hospital. One way or another, the Siluans had to be protected.

The simplest way to deal with the problem, Varda reasoned, would be to kill her. Then she could do no harm of her own, and she could inform no one who could bring harm to this place either.

Varda did indeed have her lightsabre with her, but to kill Ry that way would be too obvious. With the Siluan ethic of nonviolence, Varda would rather Ry's death seem accidental. She remembered seeing an alcove in the hallway with shelves of towels and linens. If Ry would indeed fall asleep, there might be a chance, Varda thought. If she used the Force to place a wet towel over Ry's face...would Ry suffocate before she woke up? Before Dr. Unayat came by again and saw what was happening?

Muffled yet distinct came a voice from the hallway: a voice Varda didn't know chirping in Yemerian, Dr. Unayat offering a halting Yemerian reply in exchange, talking to fellow hospital staff, perhaps.

At the sound of their voices, Varda shivered and realized what she was doing. Finished with the lavatory, she washed her hands slowly, turning the hard bar of tan-coloured soap around and around in her hands under the thin stream of cold water at the ceramaplast sink.

If this was indeed about protecting the Siluans, if this was indeed about preventing further harm, then how?

Varda wiped her hands on a rough brown paper towel and remembered: she had allies now. Bail had spoken of wanting to know Ry's whereabouts. He wanted to see her brought to justice and he was a man of no small resources. If he would agree, there might be a way to take Ry into custody. It would not be legal, not under Imperial rule, but it would be just.

Varda stepped back out into the hallway, weighing her options as she stood for a moment in the hallway. In the Force she could feel several people: Ry surprisingly indistinct, that sense of Eo surprisingly strong even though it made no sense, a number of patients – some more conscious than others - and Dr. Unayat, calm, caring and professional. It was for her sake, hers and Dr. Gunma's and the patients they tended, that she needed to act, yet Dr. Unayat and Dr. Gunma were also part of the problem. The Siluans had an ethic not only of radical nonviolence, but of radical hospitality. As long as she was doing no active harm, they would not force Ry out against her will, or permit her to be forcibly removed either. Unless Varda was willing to completely shatter her relationship with them, she would need their cooperation. She gave a tired and frustrated sigh and set off, stump-step, down the hall.

This time she purposely looked into each open cubicle, hoping to catch the doctor's attention, but didn't see her in any of the rooms nearest the lavatory. She soon came to where Ry was again. The curtain was still half open. Ry was lying on her back now, one arm up over her head, staring at the rain falling on the skylight in the dun ceiling, listening to something, with wires reaching from a clunky datapad to little wired soundbuds in her ears.

There was something cold and hollow about Ry that made Varda's skin crawl and her stomach turn, and yet, there was again that sense of Eo. There was nothing to see, nothing remotely like the Force-ghosts that Varda, years later, learned that some Jedi had become, but it was still plain for her to sense in the Force with all its awful dissonance: Ry was wearing Eo's Force-signature like a borrowed jacket.

It filled Varda with cold fury. Ry had no right to do that, no matter how such an unfathomable thing had come to be. Varda had heard of monsters like that, but only in story: darksiders who could take the Force abilities of their victims, rogue Force-users who, in taking a life, could add the powers of that life to their own. It was some time before Varda managed to remember what she had told herself, that it was not about her own revenge now, and went on looking for Dr. Unayat.

With her hip complaining at her, it was hard to move quickly. As she made her way down the hall, Varda turned her thoughts to how exactly she would handle the conversation with Dr. Unayat. The point was to get Ry into custody before she could do any further damage, and before she could be discharged from hospital and go off doing harm someplace where Varda couldn't find her.

She found the doctor not far away, emerging from a patient's cubicle with a scowl on her face as she checked something off on her datapad.

Her face brightened when she saw Varda. "Have a good trip to wherever you're going, if I don't see you before you head out."

"Thanks," Varda said. "But I wonder, if you have a few minutes, may I have a word with you?"

Curiosity mixed with concern on the Twi'lek's face. "Of course! Come, we can sit in the intake room."

"Out of earshot of...others, if that would be possible," Varda added.

Dr. Unayat looked puzzled, but opened a curtain to a short side-passage. At the end, a few steps led up to a door. Opening it, the patter of rain and a sharp whiff of fresh air greeted them.

"I'm sorry, this is the only place to sit if you'd like to speak privately." She gestured for Varda to take a seat on the wooden bench under the awning where she had napped on the first day she arrived at the monastery.

"Thank you," Varda said, relieved that she didn't have to worry about Ry overhearing anything.

Dr. Unayat settled herself on the other side of the bench, crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

Varda sighed and wondered yet again where to begin. The best place to begin, she decided, was with what the doctor already knew.

"I happened to notice, as I was going down the hall, that you have another human patient here. Perhaps you also observed that she noticed me. She happens to be someone I know."

"Oh, do you want to talk to her?"

"No!" Varda said quickly. "No, I don't think that would be wise, for a number of reasons. But I did want to speak with you about her. I am concerned that she may be quite dangerous. If you don't mind my asking, how much do you know about her?"

Dr. Unayat shifted uncomfortably, but her voice remained gentle. "Most of what I know is a matter of patient confidentiality. What is your concern?"

Varda carefully kept her hands folded in her lightly in her lap, though they wanted to grip the bench beside her if only to express her tension. She disciplined her breath, too, to be relaxed and even. Remaining cool and collected, that was her best chance at persuading Dr. Unayat to accept her plan.

She answered at a measured pace, "The reason she recognized me is that she was once a Jedi. I taught her, in fact, in some of her academic classes. But she later chose the way of a Darksider, and became quite high-ranking within the Imperial administration. She has done a great deal of damage to no small number of people, and she will kill for mere spite if it suits her. She..."

Varda paused. Something niggled in her mind. Did Ava Gerges know Ry was here? He had asked her not to tell the others what he knew about Ry's involvement in creating the Dead Zone. Varda wavered for a moment, but decided to respect his wishes as she continued, "...she seems to have a particular crusade against Lightsiders, of any kind whatsoever. And so I fear she may be no small danger to you here."

Dr. Unayat, whose eyes had gone wide when Varda said the word Darksider, now looked down as if searching the ground for some meaning other than the one Varda's words actually carried. "There must be some mistake," she said. "She came first to Ava Gerges asking for asylum. He didn't say for what, and we didn't ask. Surely he would know if there was something that...wrong with her?"

"I deeply respect Ava Gerges, but even a trained Jedi can be fooled." Varda spoke evenly, but her mind was racing: Ava Gerges did know and yet hadn't told her...a flash of anger clouded her mind before the doctor's accented Twi'lek voice brought her back into the moment.

Dr. Unayat pressed a hand to her chest. "I knew she was an Imperial official, but surely she can't be all bad. She's...difficult, but she helped a family member of Ane Gabran's extract a prisoner from an Imperial work camp, his brother actually. That's how she got injured, that's why she's here now. So she must have changed, don't you think?" She searched Varda's face, lekku twitching slightly, almost begging Varda to agree with her.

Varda rubbed her forehead. It made no sense that Ry would help anyone escape from a work camp like that. But was that why there was a bounty out for her? Yet surely seeking asylum at a Siluan monastery could only be a ruse.

"I don't know what game she's playing at this point, but her track record is such that I would not trust her. She has destroyed places with ten and a hundred times the numbers of people you have here. She may do the same again, or, she may betray you to Imperial agents if it suits her better. I don't want to let that happen to you. If you are willing, I have a proposal. My associates and I may be able to take her into custody so that no further harm can be done. She will be treated fairly, and there will be no torture or other harm done to her."

That made Dr. Unayat collect herself. She squared her slender shoulders, resolute. "No, no, Varda. You know our way. We can't give up someone who came to us seeking refuge. Especially not when she isn't well," Dr. Unayat reproached.

"I understand," Varda said, doing her best to sound soothing, putting just a little of the Force into her words, "but don't you think this is a special circumstance? I cannot stress how dangerous she is. The monastery is vulnerable right now, with so few people. And you have patients who need to be protected as well."

Dr. Unayat looked down, scowling and blinking her eyes as if slightly confused. Then she shook her head. "No, Varda. What is the point of having a monastery if we aren't going to keep our ways? And besides, maybe we live, maybe we die; either way, yet shall the Light be unbroken." Her voice carried a matter-of-fact tone, as if this was the final word on the subject.

Varda barely suppressed a sigh of frustration. "I understand," she deadpanned, "but may I at least leave my contact information with you? At least, if any trouble were to happen, I would like to offer such aid as I can. As a Jedi Knight," she added quickly, remembering that Dr. Unayat had thought she was with the AgriCorps.

"Yes! Please," Dr. Unayat said quickly, relieved. Relieved to have someone to call on, or relieved that Varda had offered her a way to cooperate without agreeing to anything against her monastic vows, Varda wasn't sure. Either way, her own promise felt hollow. If Ry did choose to do them harm, the best Varda could do would be to show up after the damage was already done.

She would have to talk to Ahsoka, she decided, to see if they could do better than that.

"What, she's here?!"

"Yes, she's at the hospital run by the monastery. I saw her myself."

Ahsoka looked completely flabbergasted. "Did you talk to her?"

"No, I felt that revealing myself to her would be unwise," Varda said, deciding not to bother explaining how Ry very nearly recognized her when she was standing in the hallway.

"But you talked to the hospital staff, right? Do you know how she got here?"

"Yes, I talked to one of the doctors. They say she was aiding a family member of one of the monastics in some endeavour or other, in which she was injured and later brought to the hospital here. Prior to that she apparently came to the monastery and appealed for asylum."

Ahsoka got up from her seat and, with her arms crossed over her chest, started pacing back and forth in the little lounge area of her starship, which was still parked some distance from the hospital where she had picked Varda up by speederbike not long earlier.

Varda watched her pace and waited, quite surprised that Ahsoka was reacting so strongly to the news of Ry's presence on Yemer, but hopeful that the younger woman would indeed be willing to help with her plan.

"So for some reason she walks away from this high-level position with the Empire," Ahsoka mused, gesturing broadly now as her military-style boots clipped along the hard floor. "They put out this ridiculous bounty for her and she ends up hiding out here." She paused, arms crossed again, eyes to the floor, one finger tapping on her lips, then turned and looked straight at Varda. "This could actually be a really good opportunity," she said.

"No!" Varda's answer was quick and firm. "No matter how big the bounty is, we must not under any circumstances turn her in. She knows this place now. I don't want her putting the monastery on the Imperial radar."

Ahsoka gave a grim little laugh. "Are you kidding me? There's no way I'd let the Empire get her back if they want her that badly. I was thinking there might be a way to get her to cooperate. I overheard more than one bounty hunter talking about her at the Wheel. Just the threat of being turned in should be enough to make her willing to talk. And the kind of information she could hand over...we don't get that kind of chance every day."

Varda took a moment to digest this. From bits and hints in what Ahsoka had said since meeting Varda, Varda gathered that the Togruta was somehow seeking ways to undermine Imperial rule, and that Bail Organa was in some way wrapped up in the same venture also. It hadn't occurred to Varda before, but someone like Ry would certainly know a great deal that might be of use to those seeking intel for anti-Imperial operations – if she could be trusted to share what she knew truthfully.

"I should warn you that she is very dangerous," Varda said. "I wouldn't put it past her to intentionally lead you astray with whatever 'information,' so-called, that she might choose to share. She's a Dark Jedi, after all."

Ahsoka shrugged and sat down again. "A lot depends on what her goals are now. But what do you have in mind for her?"

Varda sighed. "I was hoping that we might ask Senator Organa for assistance to have her put in custody, indefinitely. I don't imagine it could be done officially, legally I mean, but I was hoping we could lock her up quietly, out of the way somehow. She's very dangerous – destroying the old monastery site here was just one of many things she's done - and I would rather not have her able to do any further harm."

"If all you want is her locked up, I have what we need on board to take her now."

"The problem is that because she appealed to the monastery for asylum, they aren't willing to hand her over against her will, regardless of her past, especially not when she still needs medical care. We would have to wait and try to catch her once she's been released from hospital – unless she does something sufficiently destructive that they ask for our help first."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "I've met people like that," she muttered, then sat thinking, arms crossed, fingers of one hand drumming her biceps. "Back in the day," she said at last, "I'd say we go and talk to her first, but under the current circumstances, I see your point, I'd rather not reveal anything to her without already having her in binders."

On the hull of the starship was a tap, then another tap, and soon a torrential downpour of rain was roaring around them.

"But what if we do this," Ahsoka raised her voice above the din, "I know you have to get a starship back to that Jedi guy you're staying with, so I picked up something used when I was at the Wheel. Nothing special, older model, pretty small, but it's got a decent hyperdrive. If you want, you could head back to Nechako in it and I'll stay here and check things out. Discreetly, of course. I'm sure we can find some way to deal with her."

For a moment, a slight but defiant scowl hardened Varda's face.

Ahsoka gave her a questioning look.

Varda sighed again, resignedly this time. "Thank you, it's a good suggestion," she said, though her shoulders slumped a little as she said it. Devin and Shie needed the starship soon, and Ahsoka was certainly capable of dealing with the situation at hand, yet Varda still didn't like leaving Yemer without seeing the problem of Ry firmly dealt with.

"Don't worry," Ahsoka said cheerily. "I have some ideas. Even if I can't get in her binders as of today, I have ways of keeping track of her. And I just might have a talk with these Siluans here – if you don't mind me saying I'm an associate of yours. I mean," she added quickly, "I'll use an alias and leave out the Jedi bit, but it might be easier if I could just be up front about how I know she's here, if and when I talk to them."

"That would be fine," Varda said. "They know I'm a Jedi but I told them nothing particular about you. I can send them a message if you like and say that you're coming?"

Ahsoka tilted her head from side to side slightly, weighing this. "Maybe wait. If I need an intro, I'll message you, how about, and then you could do your thing?"

"As you prefer," Varda said.

"Great!" Ahsoka said, then stretched her arms in front and then behind her. She got up lithely from her seat. "Let me show you that starship. I made a few adjustments..."

Varda followed, still reluctant to leave but not seeing a better way.

The flight back to Nechako was gruelling. It was a full three hours, and Varda did her best to use the time well, uploading Dr. Gunma's files from the disc to the computer and trying to study the various academic articles and soil test results he had provided to help her understand the problem of the Dead Zone. But her mind kept on trying to wander back to Yemer, back to that hospital room where she had seen an abomination: Ry Kyver wearing Eo's Force signature. How in all the galaxy, Varda wondered, did that happen? And why, why, why, if anything at all of Eo was left distinct in the Force, did it have to reside with Ry of all people?

The journey was also plagued with more practical concerns. Varda realized partway that she didn't actually have either coordinates or comm digits for Devin's farm, and the navi-computer in the compact little shuttle listed only one coordinate for Nechako, that of its' capital, Bulkley.

She arrived there in the dark to find that even the late-night bars lining the main drag were closed and only a self-serve fuelling station offered a local directory. In that directory, several Devin and Shie Baxters were listed. There was no way to distinguish them in the computer, and when none of them felt like Devin in the Force, she remembered the shield they had put up and understood why the Force was telling her nothing. Shie had said she needed the starship back by the next morning, and so, after a few calls on her comm to other Devins and other Shies who were not happy to be contacted by a stranger at such an hour, and after a few visits to the coordinates of yet other Devins and Shies who weren't answering their comm and whose farms were obviously not the one she was looking for, Varda finally found herself at the door of the little domed house on the prairie that was her home for the time being, just as the eastern sky was beginning to brighten.

As soon as she got in, she shut the blinds to keep out the pale pre-dawn light and threw herself into bed without taking off her clothes, tired enough that even the problem of Ry would have to wait.

But when she woke hours later to the sound of someone knocking on the door and got up to answer it, she did notice one thing and it didn't have to do with Ry being on Nechako. She noticed that even though she still felt an aching grief for the loss of Eo and so many others, and even though feelings of anger at herself and at Ry were still there too, she did not feel like the same person she was when she left Nechako a week or so earlier. She had new connections now, new belonging, new purpose. And the combination of sleep and spatial distance had given her perspective. It was good, she thought, that she had found Ry. Now, with Ahsoka's help, that problem could be dealt with.

She slid the door open. There was Devin, the prairie sky aglow with sunset behind him.

"Hi," Devin said. He stood straight, shoulders back, seemed more at ease than he had been when Varda last saw him. She had expected to come back to find him wanting to cling to her in desperation, and here he was looking calm and confident. Varda wondered what had changed.

"I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner and then we could catch up after the kids are in bed," Devin offered. "I've got a lot to tell you."

"That would be great," Varda said. "I've got quite a lot to tell you too."