Chapter 46
Our Doubts Are Traitors
Silence held sway in the shop for some time—heavy and stagnant, as though Skywalker's departure had left them all in limbo, unable to do more than hang in suspended animation now that his galvanizing purpose had been removed.
Luke and Leia, arms still wrapped around each other, stood with their eyes fixed on the doorway where Skywalker had disappeared. Banai and his wife looked sympathetic. The Pantoran girl waited quietly behind the counter. Rex's expression was impassive, but he twiddled with the snap on a utility belt compartment, always a sign of perturbation.
Cody shook himself out of his absorption to nudge Rex. "Looks like the time has come to call in the Marines, wouldn't you say?"
Rex was slow to respond, preoccupied with whatever thoughts were troubling him. Cody nudged him again. "Huh? Oh. Uh—yes. This will be a complete foxtrot if we leave them to it."
"Did he say where he's going?"
"Nope." Rex looked at the twins. "What about you kids? You know anything?"
Luke and Leia fidgeted uneasily.
"Umm," Leia said, a shadow of guilt in her eyes, "I think he's going to our hut. He asked Uncle Ben to describe the area, and he seemed pleased. Something about nothing larger than a shuttle fitting on the bluff. Um." She darted half a glance at her brother. "That was the last thing we heard before he caught us listening."
Rex smothered a grin. It was evident he was relishing the way the kids were running Skywalker ragged.
Cody hid his own amusement by rubbing a finger on his jawline. "Hmm. Where is this hut? Could you show us on a map?"
"Sure."
He pulled out his datapad and stepped forward to place it on the counter. He called up the topographical map they had used to plan Jabba's assassination. "All right, alor'ika, where is it?"
She gave him a puzzled look.
"Don't you know how to read a map?" Cody asked.
"What? Oh, no, I do. The hut is there." She pointed to an area with closely packed elevation lines nearly on top of each other. "But what does lor-eke mean?"
"Alor'ika," Rex pronounced slowly. "It means little commander. Cody is inviting you to be part of our planning session, since you're the general's kids and you have firsthand knowledge of the terrain. Now, let's see that map."
Cody and Rex bent over it. After a few moments of study, Cody said, "What do you think? Can we do it?"
"It looks promising…Hey, Commander Leia" —Rex grinned and winked at her— "is this canyon the only way up to the plateau? Are there any other paths?"
"No. The ground to the northwest is too cut up for travel, even though it's at roughly the same elevation. I suppose someone with climbing equipment might be able to scale the north cliff, but it would be pretty dangerous."
"Good. That's good." Cody rubbed his thumb along his chin.
"You think it might work?" Rex traced the path of the ravine on the screen.
"It's risky. No guarantees. But we could at least buy the generals some time. I'd do it in a heartbeat, except…" Cody looked at the twins.
Rex tugged his ear. "I know."
"What?" Luke said. "What are you talking about?"
Rex ignored him. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to do it without me. I promised both Skywalker and Ahsoka I'd stay with them."
"I know," Cody said with a sigh. "I'll miss you, but your job is vital."
"What are you going to do?" Leia demanded. She also was ignored.
"Ke'sush, vod'e! Listen up." Cody took stock of the other men scattered around the shop. The vod'e had straightened up at the command and now gathered in a half circle around him and Rex. Even Banai drew closer to hover just outside their group. "Rex and I agree the generals need backup and we have a plan to provide it. Our objective is to buy enough time for the Jedi to kill the Emperor. I'm not going to lie to you—there's a good chance this is a suicide mission—but I consider it worth that cost."
"What do you want from us, al'verde?" Scratch asked. "Whatever you need. I've already committed to seeing this through."
A murmur of agreement rippled among the men.
"Skywalker is setting his trap for the Emperor on top of a remote plateau several hours from here. Strategically, it makes sense—limited space with a single access point. However, we all know that isn't going to stop His Imperial Majesty from bringing along his legion. A few units will be dropped at the entrance to this canyon to march up there. The rest will encircle the escarpment to prevent any attempts at escape." Cody held their eyes intently. "I propose that we guard that canyon. Even a few men should be able to hold it for half an hour or so."
"But what about the troops encircling the plateau?" Hex gestured for the map. After a frowning moment of study, he pointed to the lines representing the north cliff. "Scaling this might be dangerous, as the alor'ika says—" he shot Leia a crooked grin and she blushed, "—but stormtroopers won't balk at it. If you don't do something about them, we could hold that path and the Jedi could still end up facing down a company of troopers."
"You're right," said Cody. "I'm hoping to recruit some vod'e and the Wookiees to handle that. But if we can only do one thing, guarding this trail is the highest priority. Who's in?"
"I'm almost offended you're asking that, sir," Hex said. "We all are."
Cody shook his head. "We're not conducting operations that way anymore. Every one of you needs to make his own choice. The vod'e are done doing things because someone else forced them to."
"We owe Lord Vader a debt." Dash glanced around the group. The others nodded. "If he needs us to guard his flank—even if he didn't ask us to—I'm going to do it."
"Me too." Scratch crossed his arms. "No other way I'd rather spend the Anniversary."
"Seems fitting," Chatter said laconically. "What goes around, comes around. It couldn't happen to a more deserving chakaar."
"'Lek," grunted Hex.
"Good." Cody's smile showed all his teeth. "Let's make the last Empire Day one for the history books."
"Excuse me?" Banai said from his place just outside the circle of clones. "I want in. I'm pretty sure Theec will, too."
"Kit!" Lalla's lips pinched in fear.
Banai stepped up to the counter to take the hand she had stretched out toward him. "Ani's our friend. I don't understand a lot of what's happening, but I know the Emperor is a slaver, and I swore to free slaves."
Lalla searched his face with desperate intensity. He leaned forward, cupping her face in his hands. Her shoulders drooped and she nodded. "Go, Kit. Only—come home. Please," she whispered, with a soft caress of his cheek.
"I'll do what I have to," he murmured. He leaned closer for a brief kiss, then released her. "I'm not a soldier," he said to Cody, "but I can shoot a slugthrower. Theec hasn't had a lot of opportunity to shoot, but he'll do whatever you tell him."
Cody nodded wordless agreement. "Glad to have you. We have preparations to make. We'd better move out."
Luke and Leia held an uncannily silent conversation before turning to him in eerie synchronicity.
"Leia and I are coming, too."
"No." Rex stepped between them. "You have no combat experience—"
"We destroyed the Death Star!" Leia protested.
"All right, let me rephrase that. You are not trained soldiers and have no relevant combat experience." He frowned mightily.
"Trying to keep you alive will distract us from defending that bottleneck," Cody added. "The General wants you safe so he can do what he needs to do. We are certainly not taking you to a firefight."
The twins looked rebellious.
"Promise me." Cody put all the earnestness he could into his voice. "This is important. We aren't trying to hold you back. But we saw a lot of our brothers die on their first missions because they were too inexperienced to survive. This mission we'll be five—that is, seven—against perhaps hundreds."
Rex faced Luke and gripped his shoulders. "I know you've trained with Ahsoka. But deflecting bolts from a training remote in a controlled situation is very different from doing it under live fire. If you miss a training bolt, it stings a little. If you miss a blaster shot, it could kill you—or someone next to you. For once in your life, don't follow the example of the Senator and the General. Stay where it's safe while you have the chance."
Rex held his eyes for a long moment.
The boy deflated with a heavy sigh. "Okay. We promise. Right, Leia? No tricks. No evasions."
"I know it doesn't seem that way, but every job matters to this effort. Yours is to stay away so everybody else can focus on theirs." Rex pulled him closer into a brief hug.
"Don't you want to go, though?" Leia asked.
"Of course. I could make a difference out there. But your father asked me to protect you both, and that makes a difference too." He turned to Cody. "Give 'em hell. And you'd better come back too. Although don't expect me to kiss you."
The other vod'e laughed at Cody's sour expression.
"I'll pass, thanks."
Rex sobered and put his arms out, palms up. "Koy'acyi, vod. Don't let your brain cell get lonely."
Cody gave a crooked smile as he clasped Rex's forearms. "Count on it. I'll see you on the other side."
Anakin stared at Chenini, hanging in solitude above the eastern horizon. Unlike her sisters, she was still nearly full, ten days after the Grand Assembly. In the western sky opposite, the last radiance of dusk was fading. He settled more comfortably on the boulder that commanded a panoramic view of the Dune Sea. The temperature was pleasant now, with the relief that came after the suns set but before the sands and rocks released all their stored heat. The scent of water was in the air and the vaporator on the other side of Obi-Wan's hut hummed to life. To the west and south, the Jundland Wastes were coming alive with the skittering of tiny feet, the occasional bellow of a spiny-collared toad, and the sough of the breeze through the ravines. The trumpet call of one of the larger predators—he wasn't sure which one—woke the echoes. The faint roar of engines in the distance, somewhere out in the Dune Sea, drew nearer, then stopped in the shadows beyond the base of the plateau. Some caravan must be making camp for the night. Distantly, he wondered at anyone camping so near Tusken Raider territory before the passing thought faded into insignificance against the press of his own apprehensive reflections.
He was vaguely aware when Obi-Wan and Ahsoka joined him on his impromptu seat, but his thoughts continued to drift through past regrets and future hopes. They had arrived at the old hut in the Jundland Wastes shortly before sunset, quickly unloading their supplies and making preparations for the next day. It felt very much like old times, united in a common cause and facing an uncertain morrow. He mourned that he had thrown away such comradeship for ashes.
"Do you truly think this will work?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.
"Hmm?" asked Anakin, stirred out of his rather disjointed thoughts.
"Is it enough? Will Palpatine come?"
"I've been wondering," said Ahsoka, "what's to stop him from sending three fleets and slagging the planet from orbit. Or ordering five armies to hunt you down."
"He could do that, of course." Anakin kept his eyes on Chenini. "I'm gambling, a bit. But—I've defied him publicly. He was counting on the Death Star to make him the unchallenged master of the Empire, and I deprived him of it, announced to the galaxy what I'd done, and—worse—encouraged other systems to rebel too. More than that, I made it personal—Sith to Sith, Master to Apprentice. He won't be able to ignore that. Especially if he wishes to train a new apprentice, which he must. So yes, I think he will come."
"But why does it have to be here? The environment's going to be just as punishing for us as for him. And you've never been shy about how much you hate sand. Yet here you are..." Ahsoka waved a hand toward the dim vista of the Dune Sea before them.
"Because I know this territory and he doesn't. If I walked boldly up to the Imperial Palace, he'd have all the advantages. Here, maybe—just maybe—he'll underestimate the terrain and the environment. I hope so. It might even give me an advantage. Force knows I need some of those."
"Speaking of advantages," Obi-Wan said, "even if he comes himself, surely he won't come alone."
"I expect not."
"Yet I haven't seen you take any steps to counter that."
Anakin pulled his cloak closer against the freshening breeze. "He has access to unlimited manpower. I don't. He probably will bring a fleet and a legion. Nothing I do can prevent it or muster the strength to oppose it."
"Couldn't you have asked Cody and the others to help?" Ahsoka shifted restlessly. "And what about Banai's people?"
"The freed slaves aren't trained and don't have much in the way of weapons," Anakin replied. "Why do you think I hired Cody and the others in the first place? And I won't ask the clones to die for my cause. They've given enough to the galaxy—and had enough taken from them. No group I could raise could go head-to-head with the numbers of troops I expect the Emperor to bring with him." His gesture took in the totality of their surroundings. "Hence luring him here. Only a limited number of troops will be able to come to his support, and no one is going to risk catching him in a targeted airstrike against me."
Anakin did not share his secret faith that somehow the desert would intervene. He had taken the Oath and one of the terms was that the desert would help him keep it. The stories emphasized that it was not the Oath-taker's place to determine what form the desert's assistance would take, but they also insisted that help would come. All he could do now was walk forward in hope.
"When do you think he'll arrive?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Tomorrow, I expect. It's Empire Day. He'll like the symbolism."
"We'd better get some sleep, then." Obi-Wan placed his hands on his knees and pushed to his feet.
"Yeah." Ahsoka stretched. "I'm sure ol' Gristle Guts is settling down for his beauty sleep this very minute."
"Gristle Guts?!" Anakin had never dared refer to Palpatine by anything but his title or his name. Calling him Sheev had felt like an act of daring rebellion. Even knowing Ahsoka's penchant for nicknaming everyone, he was shocked by her casual irreverence.
"Pretty sure even a rancor would choke on him, SkyGuy."
The mental image of a rancor spitting out Palpatine's shriveled carcass in disgust was repulsive but hilarious. After a moment's contemplation of it, he chuckled. It was hoarse and unaccustomed and caught unevenly, but it was a genuine laugh. Ahsoka started to snicker, joined by Obi-Wan. Their laughter set his, which had begun to fade, off again, and the more he laughed, the more he wanted to laugh until it burst out of him in a long joyous gale, convulsing his diaphragm and increasing his oxygen consumption. He didn't care. He had even forgotten what had amused him in the first place. He laughed for what must have been the first time in eighteen years, until the tears streamed down his face and hiccups jolted his body. Eventually, the chuckles trailed away into occasional bubbles of mirth.
To his left, Obi-Wan sank back onto his boulder as he wiped the tears from his face, grinning. "What a marvelous nickname for the greatest despot the galaxy has seen in at least a thousand years. You certainly cut him down to size." The old Jedi snorted another gurgle of laughter.
"It wasn't that funny," Ahsoka protested weakly from Anakin's right, which only set him off again. He dashed his own tears away with one hand as he threw the other arm around her. "Snips, I missed you so much."
"You are so strange, Master," she said, leaning into him.
He stiffened. "Don't call me master. I won't ever be anyone's master. What are we doing, if not to free the galaxy."
"You know I didn't mean it like that. But I won't do it again." She relaxed beside him for a while in the pale moonlight. "Do you feel better now?"
"Yes. Yes, I do," he said in surprise.
"Good." She sat up and pulled away. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "You know what they say: laughter is the best medicine." There was a smile in her voice.
Puzzled, he replied. "Um, Snips, laughter isn't medicine at all."
"No, it's not. But I'm glad you feel better—Anakin."
"Come," said Obi-Wan, sobering, "we should get some sleep. Tomorrow is likely to be a long day."
It was not yet dawn when Anakin jerked awake, heart beating heavily in its unnaturally regulated pace. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, panting a little and aching for Padmé's soothing presence. He forced himself to breathe steadily for a few minutes. When his heart had settled back into a less frantic rhythm, he allowed himself to consider the nightmare. Twice before in his life he had dreamed of the terrible fates of people he loved, and both times the dreams had come true. Did that mean this was inevitable too?
Bowing to long experience, which told him that sleep would be unattainable for the rest of the night, he rose and stepped outside. In response to the sharp bite of the light breeze, he tugged the collar of his cloak closed. Ponderously, he trudged in a circuit around the plateau, pausing on the north side of the hut to lean on the wall beside the ladder that led to the roof. He contemplated the waning gibbous bulge of Ghermessa, which hung high in the heavens. Her aloof brilliance bathed the Dune Sea in an otherworldly light. Weary Chenini was approaching her daily rest to the west, while Ghomrassen, an ancient, pale sliver of greenish-blue, peeked tentatively over the eastern horizon.
He struggled to dismiss the fears the dream had awakened. Failing to find any sort of peace, he completed his circuit around the northwestern corner of the hut, squeezing between the vaporator and the speeder parked in its shadow, and then out into the open on the south side of the plateau where he expected to battle Palpatine later in the day. Unfortunately, pacing brought him no closer to settling either mind or emotions. In the end, he took a seat on the east-facing rock where he had watched Chenini rise the previous evening.
The nightmare prowled at the edge of his thoughts, no matter how he tried to ignore it. He could not erase the image of Luke, eyes fired orange by the Dark Side, face twisted into malice, stabbing a crimson lightsaber into Leia's chest as her equally bloody blade sheered through his arm. Screeching with pain, she lurched forward to swing her blade with wild fury into his side. She lacked the strength to complete the blow, but it did not matter. They fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. A few choked breaths and they stilled. From the periphery, where Anakin couldn't see him, Palpatine said dispassionately, "Pity. I did have such hopes."
He had sat long enough that the eastern horizon had emerged from the darkness and his muscles had grown stiff with the cold when Obi-Wan sank down beside him. "Are you anxious about today?"
"No. Or rather, yes, but that's not what woke me up. I—had a dream."
"Oh." Regret seeped into the Force. "A Force vision?"
"Yes."
"Like your mother?"
"Yes."
"Will you tell me about it?" When Anakin did not answer, Obi-Wan said, "I think…" His voice trailed away. He paused as though considering his words with great care. "I think it might help if you tell me about it."
"It never has." Anakin's voice shook. "I have never been able to prevent the terrible things I see."
"Who did you dream about?" Obi-Wan's voice was soft. Soothing.
Anakin swallowed hard. "Luke. Leia." His voice was almost too husky to hear. He cleared it. "They—they killed each other."
Obi-Wan's lips tightened in distress. "Did you see where? Or when?"
"No. They were all I saw."
"Are you sure—forgive me, but—are you sure this dream wasn't brought on by anxiety about Palpatine?"
"I know the difference between a premonition and a nightmare, Kenobi!" The flare of anger burned out as rapidly as it had come.
"Forgive me," Obi-Wan whispered. "I do want to help."
Anakin was silent for a long time. When he spoke at last, he did so without emotion. "I know. It's just—I don't think there's anything that can be done. It will happen and I won't be able to prevent it."
"Do you think you should go back to Mos Espa?" Obi-Wan asked hesitantly.
Anakin shook his head. "This is my best chance to kill Palpatine. It could be the only thing that might stop my vision from coming true."
"May I…" Obi-Wan seemed to be struggling to find words. Finally, he said, "May I suggest something? If you had—had not turned to the Dark Side…" He placed his hand over his mouth, pulling at his ragged nascent beard. He finished in a burst, "Do you think Padmé would have died?"
Anakin lowered his head. "I don't know. Maybe."
"But you said Palpatine killed her."
"Yes."
"What if—what if—" Obi-Wan broke off, then started again. "Do you think your efforts to avert the vision may have brought it about?"
Anakin jerked his head up. What kind of a fool question was that? "Of course they brought it about. I'm not an idiot."
Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to bow his head. "I don't mean to imply any such thing. I merely wondered if you had considered that—that the dream might have been a warning about what could happen, rather than a prophecy of what would happen. And maybe…maybe this dream too? Maybe it's more a warning to…to be careful than a prediction of an inevitability?"
Anakin kept silent as Tatoo I burst over the horizon. He burned with resentment. If the visions were warnings and not prophecies, why did the Force persist in sending him images of what he could not bear? If he was not supposed to try to prevent the visions, why give them at all? Why not warn him in some other way? And yet, the disastrous results of his attempt to save Padmé haunted him. What if his efforts to thwart this vision led to an equally disastrous outcome? Obi-Wan too sat silently as the light slowly brightened.
"Perhaps you're right." Anakin released a long breath. "But—in that case…what should I do?"
Obi-Wan stirred with a rustle of robes. "I cannot tell you what to do. I can only tell you what I have learned." He shifted until he was half-facing Anakin. "Maybe I never told you that I also was prone to premonitions. They were never so clear as yours are, but I often knew when significant trouble loomed. Qui-Gon did not really understand. He never suffered from precognition. But I have found over the years that his advice nevertheless had merit. He always told me to keep my mind on the here and now. Worrying about what would go wrong only compromised my capacity to face it when it came." He hesitated.
Sensing he had more to say, Anakin gestured to him to continue.
"You have set yourself a task. It will need all your focus. Perhaps—perhaps if you can—" Obi-Wan gnawed his lip apprehensively "—oh, not…not forget about the vision, but…set it aside for the time being. Acknowledge the fear you feel, yet resolve not to let it rule your decisions. Deal with Palpatine in whatever way becomes necessary today. Master Yoda used to say that the future was always in motion. I didn't understand as a young man, but I think I do now." He rested a chilled hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Our choices today will change what the future may hold. Today's premonition may be tomorrow's false prophecy."
Anakin turned to look at him. The harsh light of the newly risen sun cast every wrinkle and crease on the weathered face into sharp relief but also highlighted the wisdom in the piercing eyes. "I never understood, when I was young," he said haltingly, "what you meant when you told me to stay in the present. It sounded like a platitude worn-out masters used to shut their padawans up. But maybe—maybe you're right. I wish I had listened to my visions about my mother. Maybe if I'd come back sooner, I could have saved her. But it's certainly true about—about Padmé. And—And when I found Leia, I realized—even if Padmé hadn't lived—I could have raised our child. It would have been something to make life worth living, if only I could have seen past my fears."
He stared unseeingly toward the east again for a long time. The shadow of loss had haunted him as long as he could remember, driving him harder than any slave master. Perhaps he needed to be freed not only from Palpatine, but also from his own fears. "Very well. I will try to set the vision aside for now in the hope that if I can kill Palpatine today, the future will change."
"You mean if we can kill him." Obi-Wan smiled at him a bit wistfully. "Don't forget: Sith lords are our specialty. We'll take him together."
Anakin smiled shakily. "I was just about to say that." Tentatively, he put an arm across Obi-Wan's shoulders. The other man's smile became blinding and he threw his arm across Anakin's back in return.
"We've sprung many a trap in our time," Obi-Wan said with a touch of humor. "Time to turn the tables, don't you think?"
"More than time," Anakin agreed fervently. The second sun burst over the horizon, bringing the promise of stifling heat but also, he hoped, of the desert's aid against his master.
Mando'a vocabulary:
alor'ika [al-or-EE-kuh] – little/young leader (commander) (an affectionate diminutive)
ke'sush [keh-SOOSH] – Attention
chakaar [chah-KAR] – corpse robber, thief, petty criminal (general term of abuse)
'Lek [leck] – yeah (casual form of elek [yes])
Koy'acyi [koy-AH-shee] – Stay alive!
