Chapter 49
Tempt Not a Desperate Man

Balanced near the edge of the hut's roof, blade to blade with Palpatine, Anakin sensed the Emperor's strength fading, but slowly. Perhaps too slowly. Their locked lightsabers sputtered and hissed, an audible expression of their loathing for one another. Ahsoka attacked from Palpatine's rear, but he shifted so he could engage them both.

Without warning, an engine thundered to life. Palpatine dropped his guard slightly as the shuttle rose into the air mere meters from their rooftop battleground, but Anakin was too distracted by a rush of fear for the twins to take advantage of the opening. Meanwhile, Ahsoka had to duck and jump backward to avoid the shuttle's unfolding port wing.

Anakin, heart in his throat, sent a quick probe toward the twins. They blazed with life, so he forced himself to push the fear away. As Obi-Wan had reminded him, he had a job to do right now and it required all his concentration.

His distraction, fleeting though it was, had given Palpatine an opening, and Anakin had to throw himself backwards to avoid a beheading. Even so, the tip of the Emperor's blade scored a burn across his left shoulder.

"First blood," Palpatine crowed.

"It's last blood that counts," Anakin panted, falling back still further to gain a moment to regroup.

Ahsoka recovered her balance and renewed her attack, but within a few blows she too had fallen back. Frustration surged through Anakin. This wasn't working fast enough. Palpatine was weakening, yes, but so were they all. He needed a different strategy to speed this to its conclusion.

He darted in, hammering Palpatine with the Force as well as with his lightsaber. Was it his imagination, or had Palpatine faltered under that first blow from the Force? He wondered vaguely how much oxygen he had left. It wasn't beeping, so he wasn't critically low yet. He could only pray it would hold out.

Sidious trapped his blade, whipping the Dark Side into a frenzy. Anakin pressed back with the Light, raining rhythmic Force blows against Sidious's mental shields. He began to vary the tempo in an effort to break his opponent's concentration as Ahsoka augmented the mental attack. The Dark Side swelled with fury, even as it quivered under the blows.

In the wake of every strike, Darkness clung to Anakin's mind and emotions, crooning its siren call to power and destruction. The fear that crouched behind his shields called out to it, and old habits pulled hard. Resistance required ever more attention.

On an impulse, he withdrew a step, reaching for the crystals that powered his blade. Singing with power and perfection, they distilled the immense, unshakable strength of the desert into a condensed stream that a mortal could, if not grasp, then shape and direct. Snarling, snapping, the Dark tendrils recoiled, hissing in fury and revulsion. Grounded by a power greater than himself, Anakin feinted. Palpatine was undeceived by the ruse and parried the follow-up stroke. The blow jolted through Anakin's shoulders and neck, but he leaned into the pressure. In the periphery of his vision, Obi-Wan's head cleared the edge of the roof.

The blades remained locked for an eternal space, Light against Dark.

With the measureless might of the desert and the Force surging through them, the twin crystals amplified their resonant frequency until, with a nearly audible shriek, Sidious's crystal shattered. Shards of the hilt lacerated his hands and scorched his sleeves. Both Anakin and Palpatine recoiled.

Sidious stared at him in shock. Anakin and Ahsoka seized the opening, blades swinging to bisect him. Sidious leapt heavily to the top of the dome and poured lightning down on them.

They deflected it as Obi-Wan recovered from his stupefaction sufficiently to ascend the rest of the ladder and sidle around the dome. Ahsoka slowly paced the opposite direction.

Palpatine, still hurling lightning, swelled with relentless Darkness. The three of them braced themselves in the Light. He intensified the Darkness, casting it outward indiscriminately. The Force pulsed with the conflict, and the roiling energy began to overwhelm his opponents' capacity to contain it. Metal screeched behind Anakin. Something large hurtled toward him. With the barest sliver of his attention, he ducked and shoved. The object—whatever it was—bounced away to hurtle down the steep cliff toward the Dune Sea.

Palpatine abandoned the lightning to concentrate on projecting Darkness made almost tangible. Dark and Light scrabbled for purchase against each other.

The air stirred up a small cloud of dust as the struggle spilled over from the spiritual plane into the material. Getting air into motion, even with the Force, took herculean effort, but once it was moving, it was possible to direct its flow to some extent. Palpatine seized on the unexpected opportunity and drew on the air until it orbited him. He crowed with triumph. With a sharp gesture of his hands, he lifted smaller rocks to join the growing cloud of dust lazily circling the roof.

A flash of panic lanced through Anakin. "Let go!" he cried and released his own grasp on the Force to crouch, curled as tightly as possible, into the meager shelter the roof dome provided. As he tugged his scarf up to protect his face, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan followed his lead.

Palpatine, too enthralled by the forces he was channeling to heed anything else, continued to whip up the wind. A vortex formed above his head.

"No! Don't!" Anakin called in desperate warning.

Perched on the dome, splayed hands straining as he summoned yet more power, Palpatine took no notice.

"Take cover!" Anakin yelled. He shoved his lightsaber under his tunic and buried his head in his arms against the dome. The heat radiating from the permacrete threatened to scorch the skin of his face and chest, but he preferred that discomfort to what was coming.

The wind rose remarkably quickly, carrying tiny pellets with it. In moments, the air was choked with dust. Even with his arms protecting his face, the grains of sand lacerated the bare skin around his eyes and worked their way beneath his wrappings. He recalled how much sand had collected in his prosthetics during that storm he had waited out in the shelter of the krayt's cave. Would he be able to move once this was over?

Palpatine obviously did not understand the fatal mixture of wind and sand. A cry choked off above and more malevolence poured into the Force, raising the wind to greater ferocity. It drummed on the vaporator and solar arrays and screamed through the canyon below. An eerie keening, like a forsaken soul wandering the Wastes, filled the air.

About the time Anakin was certain the situation couldn't grow any worse, his chest tightened and vibrated uncomfortably to the thrum of inaudible engines. He wasn't sure what would happen if he accessed the Force right now, with all the wild energy Sidious had stirred up, but he couldn't help reaching toward the twins. His heart stuttered with relief when he perceived them glowing with steady concentration, although sharp flashes of trepidation spiked every few seconds, augmenting his own fear.

What idiot was trying to land a ship in a sandstorm? And why? Something crunched loudly enough that he could hear it over the wind, but the immediate wave of relief from the twins let him draw another shallow breath. Reflexively at the sensation, his hand clapped to his hip. He forced it away. He didn't dare swap the canister in the midst of a sandstorm. Its mechanism was well-protected when the system was sealed, but who knew what would happen if he opened it right now. And he couldn't even be certain whether his oxygen was low in the first place. His tight breathing might be caused by the fear battering him. Better not to risk it until absolutely necessary. Nevertheless, Anakin concentrated on breathing as gently as possible, just in case.

Somewhere above him, metaphysical Darkness and physical pain rolled off Sidious in equal measure as the fool kept fueling the Dark Side. He poured his pain and fear into the storm until at last he lost his grip on the Force entirely. Deprived of its energy, the gale began to slacken immediately.

Anakin's head had begun to swim, despite his careful breathing. His fingers twitched and he snatched a spare canister from his belt, although he still did not quite dare to make the exchange.

Wailing, the wind fled down the canyon, carrying its cargo of sand on its wings. Within a couple of minutes the storm had died away completely, and the grains of sand, heavier than the dust, fell back to earth.

The sharp warning of the low-oxygen alarm was finally audible. Gasping a little—out of time and hoping he could cling to consciousness just another half a minute—Anakin fumbled to remove the old canister. Black dots obscured his vision before he managed to snap the new one into place. He waited tensely for the flow of air to resume. Provided, that is, that the mechanism hadn't become clogged with sand during the brief exchange. His whole body relaxed as the familiar coolness of supplemental oxygen struck his starving lungs. The tightness in his chest eased and he rested against the dome for another minute as his vision cleared.

Crisis averted, if just barely, he cautiously lifted his head. Haze obscured everything; he could not even see the edge of the roof. He brushed sand out of his scarf and lowered it enough to drink some water. After a quick check that his lightsaber was functional, he hung it at his belt and rose to assess his mobility. His stumps ached with weariness and his prosthetics were a little heavier than normal, but he could compensate.

Squinting against the dust, he groped forward. A dim shape emerged, hunkered down against the dome. He touched the figure's elbow, and Ahsoka screeched.

"It's all right." His voice was husky. "It's just me."

Cautiously, she raised her head, eyes barely cracked open.

"Rinse and spit before you try to talk." He held out a water bulb. She eased her scarf down and took a cautious sip. "Check your lightsaber, then we need to find Obi-Wan and check on Luke and Leia."

"Shouldn't we be looking for Palpatine?" she asked as she ignited her blade before she returned it to her waist.

"I think the shuttle crashed during the storm." He led the way around the dome, peering through the gloom. "I can feel that they're alive and probably all right, but—"

"Oh. Yeah. Definitely." She fell silent to concentrate on keeping her footing over the complicated maze of the rooftop solar array. "Did Palpatine create that sandstorm?"

"Yes. Showy Force displays are one of his favorite techniques. They overawe the common people, you see. But while a Force storm on Naboo or Imperial Center makes an impressive exhibition and a formidable weapon, here it just picks up all the sand. And sand is no respecter of persons."

She laughed at his mangled Alderaanian proverb. They had reached the other side of the dome and caught a glimpse of movement. Their cautious approach revealed Obi-Wan curled over his knees, arms covering his head. In response to Anakin's tap on his arm, he peered at them through the murk. Once he had cleared the sand from his mouth, he said, "Where's Palpatine?"

"I don't know. He isn't on this side of the dome."

They inched through the murk to the ladder. "Maybe he fell and broke his neck?" Ahsoka asked optimistically.

Anakin shrugged and started down the ladder.

Cody was down to only one spare blaster pack and was beginning to evaluate the merits of a dash out of cover to grab more from their fallen opponents when a gust of wind blasted down the canyon, accompanied by a strange rattling sound. Banai darted in from his left.

"Sandstorm!" he yelled over the combined cacophony of wind and battle. "We need shelter!"

Cody tapped his helmet to indicate he understood and ordered his team to take cover wherever they could. Dash and Scratch were the biggest concern, up on the heights. He remained in the open as the wind picked up, laying down cover fire while the snipers scurried down. When they hit the canyon floor, the three of them ducked into a small depression in the rock wall. With the cessation of opposing fire, the Imps began clearing a track through the bodies, ignorant of what the wind heralded.

With almost no warning, visibility dropped to zero. If Cody had not seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed such a thing. He found himself grateful for the armor, which protected his skin from the tiny pellets. His air supply grew stale as the sand caught in his armor's intake valves. It was a relief when the small supplemental oxygen supply kicked in.

The storm continued for several minutes, before the wind dropped abruptly, dying away almost as quickly as it had risen. Dust hung in the air and figures could be made out only with great difficulty. He switched his HUD to the infrared display. Grabbing his weapon, he motioned stiffly for Dash and Scratch to follow, only to discover he could do little more than shuffle. Had he sustained an injury unknowingly? He looked at Dash and Scratch, also shuffling awkwardly, and understood. The sand had clogged not only the air filters but also the joints in the armor. No doubt a thorough cleaning would render the armor functional again. Pity that was not an option at the moment.

He removed his armor, and Dash and Scratch followed his example. The helmet was a low-end model with only a minimal HUD, but the magnetic shielding seemed to have protected the mechanism from damage, so he kept it on to protect his eyes and nose from the airborne dust. He tried to comm the rest of the group to notify them to check their equipment, but the comm wasn't working, either because the storm was blocking the signals or because that system was mounted near the surface of the helmet and therefore had not been as protected. Skywalker's laments about sand didn't seem so unwarranted anymore.

Silence lay heavy all around, eerie and unsettling in the dim light. The dust began to clear, revealing a grim scene out of the past. Armored bodies lay in heaps all across the mouth of the canyon. Beyond them the remaining stormtroopers (about half the original complement, Cody estimated) hobbled around their dropships which sat like dead hulks amid the destruction wrought by the storm.

The sound of an approaching speeder broke the spell. Cody motioned sharply for his men to stay out of sight. He himself crouched behind a boulder as he tracked the speeder's path with his blaster. Their enemy did not expect the new arrival either and raised their weapons but held their fire. The speeder made straight for the ravine.

"Halt." Cody stepped out into the center of the path, firing a warning shot over the driver's head. Or at least, he tried to fire a warning shot. The firing mechanism was jammed.

The speeder jerked to a halt in front of him. A familiar face was at the wheel.

"Rex!" Cody yanked off his helmet. "What are you doing here? Where are the alor'ike?"

"Abducted," Rex said grimly. He wore a bandage across his right temple. "Royal Guards broke into the house at midmorning and stunned everyone. When we woke up, Luke and Leia were gone."

Cody took stock of the stormtroopers. Their weapons were still raised. Had their rifles also malfunctioned? He wasn't inclined to take the chance. "Pull farther in, out of the line of fire." He covered Rex's six until the speeder rounded the curve in the ravine and drew to a stop again. The other men had removed their helmets and gathered round Rex.

"You think they're up there?" Dash pointed in the direction of Kenobi's homestead.

Rex nodded. "It's my best guess. What else would the Emperor do with them? I was hoping to warn Skywalker, but I guess it's too late for that."

"Lalla? The children?" Banai's lips were pinched and bloodless.

Rex shook his head, then stopped with a wince. "The children weren't home. Lalla and Yenzon were stunned, but they're fine." He pressed a hand to his head. "Well, they probably have the mother of all headaches, but that's normal after a stun bolt."

Banai's expression eased, although concern still shadowed his eyes.

"Should we head up to help Skywalker? At least some of us?" Hex asked.

"Do we even have working weapons?" Cody frowned grimly. "My firing mechanism is jammed."

A brief inspection revealed that all the blasters were nonfunctional. An attempt to clean them out sufficiently to restore operation was unsuccessful. Theec and Banai, more familiar with the effect of sand on exposed machinery, had lain on top of their slugthrowers, leaving them with the only functional weapons in the group. Hex had one case of grenades he had not yet opened. The good news was that the Imps were probably in the same boat.

"I'd like to send some of you up to the plateau," Cody said slowly, "but I don't dare leave this ravine unguarded. Even if we can't do much without weapons."

Banai and Theec exchanged a thoughtful glance before studying the troops on the plain speculatively.

"You know what," said Banai, "I think I can get those guys to surrender."

Cody was tempted to scoff. Instead, he said, "What's your plan?"

Luke pushed himself to his feet with trembling hands. "I have to know what's happening."

Leia peered out the viewscreen, but only a bit of light eked its way through the dust. Luke, trailed by Artoo, strode toward the rear of the ship and slapped the ramp release. The hydraulics groaned, steam billowing to further obscure visibility.

"Wait!" She rushed after him. "It's not safe."

The warning came too late. As soon as the ramp was stable, Luke had started down it. By the time she reached the hatch, he had drawn back in a paroxysm of coughing, his eyes streaming.

Artoo tried to reverse direction. He squealed indignantly as his wheels spun in the sand that had already collected on the ramp. Leia drew a deep breath, closed her eyes tightly, and stuck her head out long enough to pull him back into the shuttle.

She slapped the unresponsive ramp control. With an oath Uncle Ben definitely didn't know she knew, she pulled Luke into the galley opposite the ramp and closed the door. Spurred on by his continued coughing fit, she rummaged until she unearthed a water bulb, which she thrust it into his hand. "Water. You can rinse your mouth and eyes."

Dutifully, he rinsed his mouth but choked when he tried to swallow.

"Spit it out."

He hesitated another moment, then did as she said. When his mouth was clear, he said, "But it's the personal ship of the Emperor."

She stared in disbelief for a moment before she took the bulb and gently squirted his scrunched up eyes, brushing the sand away with care. "You already wrecked the thing, now you're worried about spitting on his floor?"

Luke laughed, breath catching slightly in his irritated throat. "I guess that was stupid." She motioned for him to drink.

As abruptly as it had begun, the wind died away. So did the hissing of sand against the hull of the shuttle. The tinkle of tiny pellets striking metal persisted for another minute, but finally even that ceased.

"That's strange," she murmured. "I've never heard of such a short storm before." Cautiously, she opened the galley's door. Dust hung in the air, but the storm truly was over. "We need to cover our faces before we leave the ship."

"No kidding."

There was nothing suitable in the galley. "Hold your breath and cover your mouth," she said. She led the way back into the main cabin and rummaged through the cabinets, although she didn't find anything suitable there either.

"What are you looking for?"

"Cloth. Something we can breathe through, but thick enough to filter the dust." They ransacked the room and began opening the doors to various small bays and closets.

"What about medical gauze or bandages?" Luke said. "Artoo, can you unlock the door?"

The medical bay turned out to have a sort of soft, gauzy fabric that came in long rolls. Leia showed Luke how to wrap it around his neck and head to leave as little skin exposed as possible. The fabric was undoubtedly very expensive, but she decided she didn't care how much of it they used. It wasn't like Palpatine was a friend. And he certainly wasn't due any of the courtesies of the desert.

Luke was clowning it up a bit, making a fair bit of noise. The guard had regained consciousness and glared at them from the bunk. Unexpectedly, he smiled rather nastily.

A dry, raspy voice said from the doorway, "How discourteous of you to leave without a proper dismissal, but I shall excuse you this once."

Without thought, Leia snatched for her lightsaber. Unpracticed in the motion of pulling it off her belt, she fumbled. That was all the opening the Emperor needed. He snatched it from her hand. The next moment it was pointed at her neck—unignited, but in clear threat. "And now yours, young Skywalker."

Luke eyed Leia with fearful eyes and slowly handed over his weapon. Palpatine chuckled in self-satisfaction. "You needn't look so disgruntled. You won't be needing these. And as your faithless father has had the temerity to destroy mine, it seems most fitting that I shall end Anakin Skywalker once and for all with his own lightsaber. I might even term it poetic justice. Now, you will come with me, my Apprentices."

"We will not," said Leia indignantly. "We'll never be your apprentices."

"Oh, but you will, my young friend. You will. I have foreseen it."