5/13/23: Edited and chapter order swapped

Chapter 16
Stopping by Caves on a Sandy Morning

Vader had traveled eastward across the dunes through two full nights, in response to some inexorable power—whether the Force or some other call—that urged him into the desert relentlessly. His way was illuminated by the waxing spheres of the Three Sisters as they advanced toward one another.

Ghomrassen and Ghermessa, the primary and secondary moons, met often in the skies and their conjunctions were considered propitious but not remarkable. Tiny Chenini, however, wandered far in her elliptical orbit, so her appearance and disappearance were notable events among the inhabitants of the desert. Although he no longer assigned significance to their rare triple conjunctions—had not done so since the night of his mother's death—they were believed to herald especially auspicious times. Endeavors succeeded. Crops flourished. New businesses prospered. Children born under their light were considered especially blessed.

By far the most auspicious conjunctions were those that occurred in the Great Krayt, which lay near the peak of the southeastern sky at this season. Among the slaves, the constellation was particularly noteworthy for the krayt's mythical role in assisting runaways to freedom across the desert. An escape attempt was thought to be more likely to succeed when begun under the blessing of the Great Krayt and the Three Sisters. He himself had never witnessed a Grand Assembly—the last such meeting had taken place on the night of his birth—but it featured in many tales.

Absorbed in the final stages of planning for Jabba's assassination and the coup, he had not paid particular attention to the preparations for the festival. He wasn't certain, but it appeared the conjunction might coincide with Boonta Eve itself.

No wonder Kit had been so pleased with their plans to overthrow Jabba at the Boonta Eve Classic.

The moons were hanging just over the western horizon behind him and dawn was painting the outline of the Mospic High Range against the sky ahead of him. He quickened his pace, eager to reach the day's shelter. The escarpment was pierced by ravines of varying widths. Many led deep into the badlands while others led nowhere. He selected a narrow, dead-end gulch pocked by several depressions and small caves. He would camp for the day in one of the shallow cavities, where he could be certain nothing could sneak up on him from any connected cave systems.

He was debating whether to choose a location on the north or the south side of the ravine when he noticed sand skittering by his feet. A quick glance back out into the open desert revealed a blur against the horizon. As the sky brightened, the tell-tale smudge became more pronounced. A sandstorm was heading his way, and while any of the hollows would be better than camping in the open, none had as much shelter as he would like.

He hurried along the foot of the cliff, examining each fissure for one that would lead deep enough for adequate shelter. Every few minutes he scanned the horizon, trying to judge how much time was left before the storm arrived. He pulled his scarf over his mouth and nose and tugged his hood down to shield his eyes as the dust began to swirl higher above the ground. He didn't have much more time.

He almost passed the cave by. The narrow cleft in the rock was masked by a pair of boulders and was so low he had to bend nearly double to get inside. Afterward he never could explain what prompted him to examine it more closely. It felt nothing like the nudges he was accustomed to from the Force. His best explanation was that whatever had called him into the desert had led him to the cave.

As soon as he had pulled his pack through the opening, he shed his cloak and did his best to secure it across the entrance. It was not much in the way of shelter, but perhaps it would keep the worst of the sand out of the cave. Though the first sun had now risen, the light was dim through the storm and the cloak. He pulled his lantern out of his pack, hoping this cave was not already in use by a canyon krayt or a plague of womp rats. He was relieved to find himself the sole occupant except for a small colony of rock beetles and some fungus growing up the rear wall. It was reassuring to know that he had food resources if he needed them.

He made camp swiftly, setting up his vaporator and bedroll. In spite of the cloak, there was a fair bit of airborne dust in the cave. After a brief debate with himself whether eating was worth the sand he would get in his mouth, he decided it wasn't necessary. He drank half a water ration and lay down to sleep.

He awoke some hours later to the same roar of the wind and harsh scraping of the sand along the cliff face that had lulled him to sleep. Sand was collecting around the cloak and swirling in the air. Despite its small entrance, the cave had a high ceiling, and as the air seemed to be clearer closer to the ceiling, he stood at the farthest corner of the leeward side to eat his ration bars.

There was nothing to do once he had eaten. It was pointless to clean his prosthetics until the storm died down, though sand was beginning to grate in his joints. Idly he rummaged through his pack and found a small roll of tools and parts. He was not certain why he had brought them. He would need a lightsaber when he faced Palpatine, of course, but as he had no crystal, he could not complete it. Still, in lieu of any other employment, this would do. He sat on a small shelf of rock on the leeward side of the cave. Maybe it would lift him far enough off the ground so that the components would not pick up too much sand.

He worked for hours, unaware of the passage of time, slipping in and out of a light meditation. He had barely touched the Force in the past year, intent on leaving no traces of his presence for Palpatine to track. But this sort of listening to the Force's direction left little mark in its wake, and in any case, he only intended to hide long enough to lay his plans before he forced a confrontation with his master. So he allowed the Force to direct his hands as he assembled the shell and the wiring until he had proceeded as far as he could without the crystal.

Constructing a lightsaber was a religious discipline for both Jedi and Sith, but the assembly of the hilt was the least time-consuming and least mystical part of the process. The meditations with the crystal, which were what bound crystal and wielder in the Force, usually required weeks, although he had never personally spent so long on the process. At least the hilt components were now ready when he obtained a crystal.

As he worked, his thoughts drifted across the same territory they had been covering for the past two days. He was rather resentful that he owed Kenobi so much, both for his efforts to save Padmé and for raising Leia. They had sorted out none of their differences, and he never wanted to face any version of that conversation. Yet some of the bitterness he had cherished for the past eighteen years had faded, and he felt genuine gratitude that although Leia had been hidden from her father, so she had also been protected from Sidious.

Her safety outweighed the galaxy. He had sacrificed everything in a vain bid to preserve her mother's life and he would do no less for her. Only this time he would make no fool's bargain with the devil. No, this time he would achieve his goals on his own terms. If that required cooperating with Kenobi, he would swallow his rage and his pride. Kenobi's betrayal of their friendship paled next to Sidious's treachery. Palpatine had assisted him in creating a royal mess of his life; the man would never have a chance to do the same with Leia.

His stomach rumbled, and his mouth was parched. It was a surprise to find that the dim glow of daylight had faded. He neatly rolled up the components and tools and felt his way over to his pack. He ate and drank by light of the lantern while he considered once again every potential strategy he could muster to defeat his master. He made no more progress than he had thus far. The Emperor's paranoia was an insurmountable obstacle.

If he were still his master's trusted lieutenant, it would be so simple. He would be able to slip close enough to find or make an opportunity. Program a mouse droid as an assassin, for instance. Or sabotage his bathing unit to drown him. Even march right up and spear him with a lightsaber.

But now he had no access to the heart of the Empire. If he could succeed in infiltrating Imperial Center, he would not be able to enter the palace undetected. All his codes were surely either deactivated or monitored. Or both. Obviously, it would be advantageous to attack Palpatine away from the seat of his power, but the Emperor almost never left the capital.

Irritated by the intractability of the question, he turned his attention to his diminished water supply. The scent of moisture in the air gave promise of a spring somewhere near. He turned to examine the cave's crevices.

It took some time, but as he had nothing to do and nowhere to go, he did not fret over it. On the windward wall, he eventually discovered a fissure in the rock. He made short work of gathering his supplies and shouldering his pack. Picking up the lantern, he squeezed through the crevice until it widened slightly into a tunnel. It continued to widen as he passed through, something he knew more from the Force than from the feeble light of his lantern, which illuminated perhaps a meter in front of him.

The tunnel emerged into a space that felt very large—and he could hear water trickling somewhere nearby. He stood quietly for some moments, trying to pinpoint the direction. The acoustics of the cavern confused his ears, but he finally decided it was to his right. Near the wall, some distance from the tunnel, a tiny spring bubbled up from the ground surrounded by a bed of fungus taking advantage of the precious moisture.

He knelt to replenish his supplies and had just finished returning the bulbs to his pack when something skittered to his left. The lantern did not pierce far enough through the gloom to reveal the source of the sound. The skittering gave way to hissing. Whatever was in here with him was definitely unfriendly. He rose, leaving his pack on the ground, and slowly paced toward the noise, carrying his lantern in his left hand. He rather wished he had a lightsaber to hand. Even a blaster would do.

He had traveled perhaps five meters when he saw something gleaming ahead of him. Eyes. Judging from their position in the air, the creature was not small, although it probably was not terribly large either. He debated. Should he kill it without knowing what it was? A Sith would do it without hesitation. A Jedi would refrain until the creature proved ill intent.

Maybe if he got a little closer, he could see enough to determine what it was.

Slowly he stepped forward. He had gone about a meter when a warning jangled from two directions. He lashed out with the Force as a creature sprang at him, hissing loudly. There were two cries, one right after the other, followed by a pair of wet thumps. He cautiously edged toward the closer one, alert for another attack. It was a womp rat—easily two meters in length—with its neck twisted at an unnatural angle. There was a second one in a similar state behind him. Vigilantly, he moved in the direction the first rodent had come from.

He nearly tripped over the nest. It was probably what had drawn the womp rats in the first place. A depression in the floor of the cave was filled with a spongy substance that he rather thought must be the mushrooms that grew by the spring. Nestled amongst the padding were nine leathery eggs, each about the size of both his fists. He did not know enough about Tatooine's reptiles to be certain which one had laid the eggs. Dewbacks didn't usually live in caves, but he had no idea if they might nest in them. Either type of krayt might also lay its eggs in a cavern this size.

Cautiously he stepped around the nest, searching with his eyes and ears as well as the Force for any other threats. He found nothing and returned to his pack beside the spring. In other circumstances he might carry one of the carcasses with him, but he wasn't equipped to haul it.

He began making his way back to the tunnel. The mother would not welcome his presence in her nursery, and the passageway was too small for whatever had laid those eggs to pass through. The cave where he had been staying seemed the best option for waiting out the storm.

Without warning, a rich, ancient voice rumbled. "Who are you, and why do you disturb my nest?"

Startled, he dropped the lantern. The light vanished to the sound of shattering glass. Heart hammering, he twisted around awkwardly. The echoing darkness gave no clue who had spoken.