Chapter 9

The pallies had taken on a deep green hue over the past week, indicating that they were ripening. Lorna hummed a familiar, pleasant tune to herself as she reached up to a fruit on the vine, rubbing its smooth, fuzzy skin with her thumb. There was a slight softness to the fruit's flesh which, according to Obi-Wan, signaled that they were ready to pick. She carefully plucked the pallie and placed it into the basket balanced on her hip.

Their days had settled into a routine. They meditated at sunrise, then worked on the homestead before the suns inevitably grew too hot. In the evenings, they shared a quiet meal before collapsing into their respective sleeping locations–Obi-Wan had fashioned a makeshift cot for himself next to the bed, which he still insisted on yielding to her–too tired from the day's work for much conversation.

It was a peaceful lifestyle, one for which Lorna was grateful. The fresh air, sunlight, and lack of tavern patrons were a welcome contrast to her life before. Perhaps it was even what she had needed this past week. Yet she found herself growing restless, for, despite his promises, Obi-Wan had made no move to begin her training in earnest. Aside from the occasional lecture on maintaining focus during meditation, he had not initiated any lessons or exercises.

There had also been no mention of her ship or how she was going to repair it. They hadn't even been back to check on it.

All morning she had been gathering her courage to speak up about the training. His demeanor was far from cold, yet Lorna persistently sensed that her presence was an annoyance to him. The way he had acted put out by her request to bathe only solidified this. She still relied on his hospitality and did not want to wear out her welcome.

She continued humming as she watched Obi-Wan wanderingalong the rows of pallie vines, tenderly palming the fruit to test for ripeness and filling his own basket. He appeared deep in thought, his lips pulled into a slight frown, a crease forming at the center of his prominent brow.

"Ben?" she started, and his eyes met hers as she pulled him out of his thoughts. He said nothing but glanced at her with raised brows to signal that she had his attention as he pulled another pallie off the vine.

"We've spent a lot of time the past several days working on these tasks. Perhaps we could add some training exercises to our daily routine?" She tried to maintain a nonchalant tone.

"How do you know these tasks have not been your training exercises?"

She wasn't sure if he was being serious. His eyebrows quirked sardonically as he peered at her through the vines, but his tone was unreadable. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You consider picking pallies and shoveling eopie droppings training?" she asked.

"Engaging in practical tasks in close proximity with the natural world are excellent opportunities for attuning your focus with the Force," he replied. "Not to mention it fosters patience and discipline."

"Of course," she replied, then bit her bottom lip to contain her agitation. "It's just that… I cannot defend myself from an Inquisitor with pallies."

"Perhaps not, but you can avoid ever seeing one in the first place with them."

Lorna swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat as she struggled to contain her disappointment. With each passing day, the legendary Clone Wars hero she had idolized seemed to fade further away, replaced by this cautious, hesitant man before her. She wondered if asking him to train her had been a mistake.

She considered the weight of his grief and thought with empathy of the burden it must place on him. The fall of the Jedi Order and the rise of the Empire had left her raw and aching, too. Yet where she felt a need to act, Obi-Wan seemed content to remain in withdrawn solitude. It seemed unfair that he would hide in despair behind farm work while she did not allow hers to prevent her from doing something about the situation. Besides, she needed to try and find Niko and Sinya. Which meant she needed to be prepared.

"Well, I'm not staying here to become a farmer," she said, teeth clenched. "That's why I asked you to train me. I need to be prepared to be on my own." Her voice carried a bitterness she hadn't meant to convey. The way he was acting–she was beginning to feel like she really was still on her own. And to think she'd been so relieved when she found him here.

"Then you can start by learning some patience," he replied, his voice raising slightly in annoyance. The set of his jaw and the shuttered look in his eyes told her she wasn't getting anywhere with this line of reasoning. She needed a different approach.

"We should probably go check on the Comet," she said after a moment. "Make sure it hasn't been swallowed by the sand, ensuring I never leave here." Perhaps that will motivate you to focus on something other than farming, she thought, glancing at him sideways

"We wouldn't want that," he replied wryly as he set another pallie in his basket. "Very well. I need to make a trip to Mos Eisley tomorrow to trade the pallies for supplies. On the way there, we can stop at your ship to make sure it has not, in fact, been swallowed by the sand."

He fixed her with a look that told her she was testing his patience, but she sighed in relief, ignoring the faint sting of his ire as she selected another ripe pallie.

Conversation was minimal as they traversed the flat terrain on the eopie, which was loaded with sacks of pallies to trade in the Mos Eisley marketplace. The desert stretched into the horizon, with nothing but the occasional gently sloping dune or slight dusting of sand on the breeze to break up the view. With little to distract her from her thoughts, Lorna ruminated on her conundrum with the Comet.

Obi-Wan had told her to trust that the Force would provide a solution to her lack of finances, but the Force could not materialize credits from nothing. He relied on the profits from his homestead to make a living, so she would need to find other work to save up credits.

The thought of returning to a life of pouring drinks for unsavory characters made her stomach churn. But the skills she possessed, the skills of a Jedi, she was loathe to put to use in ordinary occupations. She had no doubt her combat experience would make her a fine bounty hunter or mercenary, but that would mean turning to a life of crime and brutality. The Jedi had rescued her from that world once before—she wouldn't return to it if she could help it. A Jedi was supposed to use violence only when necessary for the greater good, a principle she refused to abandon.

There was her talent for music, she realized. Could she take gigs singing in cantinas for credits? She didn't hate the idea of performing for others, but she thought about the types that frequented those cantinas, like the pilots from whom she had tried to procure passage to Jabiim, and how they treated her. Music, the one thing that was closer to her heart than being a Jedi, would be turned into a means of drawing more unwanted flirtatious attention. She imagined herself on a stage, baring her truest self with her voice, while hungry eyes roamed her body and lewd thoughts—which their owners mistakenly believed she couldn't sense—pressed against her consciousness. The image made her skin crawl.

"Everything alright?" Obi-Wan asked.

She realized he must have felt the involuntary shudder of revulsion that coursed through her, physically and emotionally, as the scene played in her mind. She was suddenly aware of their closeness on the eopie, his chest brushing gently against her back as their mount swayed, his arms encircling her waist to hold the reins. Blood rushed to her cheeks and she noted that the contact did not evoke the same revulsion her singing vision had. She found herself welcoming his firm, anchoring presence around her, despite the friction in their conversation the day before.

As if sensing her thoughts, he suddenly pulled back slightly, widening his grip on the reins to distance his arms from her waist. Her blush deepened. She quickly reinforced her mental shields, trying not to think about how much he might have perceived.

"Just having negative thoughts. I know I should avoid dwelling on them," she answered.

His arms relaxed again. "Do you wish to speak of them? If you need to unburden yourself, I am here." His tone was soft, understanding, unlike when they had spoken the day before while harvesting pallies.

"I have… unpleasant memories from the time I spent in the Coruscant Underworld," she answered slowly.

"Why do I get the feeling 'unpleasant' is an understatement?"

His quip brought an unexpected smile to her lips. "You have no idea," she replied.

"I was assigned a mission in the Underworld once, as a Padawan. It's a dreadful place. And in such close proximity to Imperial forces…. it's a testament to your resilience and resourcefulness that you survived there for a year and managed to escape it."

The unexpected praise caused her emotions to swell, and tears pricked her eyes. She blinked them back rapidly before they could spill out.

"I hated every moment of it," she continued, her voice tight. "The violence and crime were bad enough, but the patrons at Evo's... they behaved like Corellian hounds on the hunt for prey. I know those who aren't Jedi often give in to their…physical desires, but those people were consumed by them. The kind of things that go through their minds…" her face twisted in disgust. "You saw how inappropriately those pilots behaved at the cantina."

"I'm sorry you had to experience that. The Jedi way teaches us to respect the inherent dignity of all beings." His voice lowered, his disdain evident. "It's a sad truth, especially in the seedier parts of the galaxy, that many men seem to lose all sense of self-control around beautiful women. Especially where drink and unsavory company are involved."

"Exactly. It's obscene," she added, then paused as his words sunk in. Had he just implied he thought her beautiful? The idea conflicted her. She had been called beautiful many times, but the flattery had always fallen flat. Her appearance was often the least of her concerns. The Jedi taught that beauty was transient, something that could be appreciated but not given undue importance. Yet coming from Obi-Wan, the subtle compliment stirred something within her she couldn't quite name. She pushed the feeling away, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle.

"Ah, there's your ship," Obi-Wan said, lifting a finger to point out the freighter as it came into view. Lorna was grateful for the timing of their arrival.

The Comet sat just as it had the last time she'd seen it, though the exterior had a fine coating of dust on it and sand had started to collect where wind had blown it into the crevices. She dismounted the eopie and began inspecting the hull, hoping that there had been no further damage after the Jawas' ransacking. She walked around the port engine side, staring ruefully at the cavity where the thrusters should have been.

"I should take inventory of everything that's missing so I know what needs to be replaced," she told Obi-Wan as he began his own inspection of the starboard side.

"Good idea. There's a datapad in that leather pack in front of the pallies on the eopie, if you want to use it," he replied.

She retrieved the device and began cataloging the missing parts.

"Add the starboard energy capacitors and outer radiators to the list. The Jawas somehow missed the starboard landing gear hydraulic rams, those are still here," Obi-Wan called out to her as he inspected, facilitating the process. Once they finished the exterior they moved inside.

"Was there anything in the cargo holds when you arrived?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Only a few basic supplies—there were no goods for transport. Niko said his last job would be picking up a shipment here on Tatooine and then delivering it before we could head to Jabiim," she answered, moving into the port cargo hold.

"Did he say anything about what he was picking up? Or from whom?"

"No, we never got into specifics. He and Sinya had the job planned out before they decided to bring me with them. There was no need for me to know, really. I was just tagging along until we headed for Jabiim. But they did mention they primarily smuggled spice, so I'm assuming that was the cargo."

He bent down to inspect the cargo lift. "How long had you known these smugglers? Add port cargo lift mechanisms to your list."

"They became regulars at Evo's during the last several weeks I was there. They weren't like other patrons. Niko may have been a shameless flirt and Sinya could be broody, but their compassion seemed genuine. They made for an unlikely but effective team," she answered with a fond smile.

"Were the two of them a couple?"

Lorna's eyebrow quirked upwards. She found the question odd, though she kept that thought to herself.

"No. Sinya may have been one of the few females who was immune to Niko's charms. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," he said, shaking his head. "And you're sure you trust them?"

"I sensed no deception in what they told me," she said, walking around the perimeter of the hold and noting the missing instrument panels. "Niko's parents were displaced and then imprisoned by the Empire. And Sinya's son was identified as Force-sensitive and brought to the Jedi. Neither have any reason to love the Empire, and they took a risk in telling me their stories."

"Her son was a Jedi?" he asked eyebrows raising in surprise. "Did she say how old?"

"He would have been seven when…last year."

Something dark flashed in Obi-Wan's eyes, but it passed quickly as he inhaled deeply and covered his mouth with his hand, stroking his long beard in deep thought.

"Before I escaped the Temple, I saw my close friend Trilla and her Master." She paused, taking a steadying breath. She had never spoken with anyone about the details from that night. "They had a group of younglings with them, and were planning on trying to get them out. I don't know for sure but… some of the children might have made it."

"Let us hope so," he said. He briefly placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder before returning his attention to the ship.

"Besides their personal stories, there is also the fact that they saw me with my lightsaber on Coruscant when the Inquisitor attacked. They knew what I was, but they stayed and fought with me when they could have left me there. I see no reason not to trust them."

As she defended her friends, her gut twisted remembering how they came to her aid in the hangar and had gotten themselves captured because of it. While she had escaped. Shame and self-doubt once again tore through her as she thought of that night.

"What's wrong?" Obi-Wan asked.

She looked over to where he stood in the doorway to the cargo hold, his blue-grey eyes regarding her with concern.

She didn't want to know what he must think that she had fled, thinking her best option was to lead the Inquisitor away from her friends. She still had no idea if that plan had even worked. The great General Kenobi would have engaged and defeated the Inquisitor and saved his friends, she was sure of it.

"I'm fine," she lied. "Let's head to the starboard hold." She brushed past him, eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet his gaze.

The starboard hold was practically identical to the port hold, missing many of the same components. As she and Obi-Wan inspected each area closely, something drew her eye to a floor tile next to the cargo lift. It was identical to all the other floor tiles except for some scuffing in the metal along one edge. As if that edge had been used repeatedly to lift the tile.

She pointed it out to Obi-Wan. "Help me find something to lift this," she told him. He quickly located a metal rod thin enough to slide into the gap between the two tiles. Using the rod for leverage, he lifted the tile. It hinged open to reveal a secret compartment in the cargo hold floor.

Lorna's eyes widened as she took in the sophisticated technology concealed within. A refrigeration system lined the walls, along with miniature repulsor lifts. A control panel was built into the underside of the tile itself.

"I see the Jawas didn't find everything," Obi-Wan remarked, peering into the compartment.

"Do you know what this is for?" she asked him.

"No, this tech is unfamiliar to me. Specialized cargo that needs to be kept cold and stable? Could be bioweapons, or illegal cloning tech," he answered.

"Niko and Sinya never mentioned anything like this," she said, carefully lowering the tile back into place. "We should keep it hidden for now. I might need to sell some of these components just to get the Comet flying again."

Together they descended the ramp as Lorna finalized her inventory, fingers tapping at the datapad.

"This is a lot of missing parts. I should get an estimate from a local parts dealer to be sure, but the Jawas might not have been that far off with their offer," Lorna said dejectedly, raking a hand through her hair. Her other hand slumped down to her side. "I don't see how I'll ever make it to Jabiim. I'll never know if Niko and Sinya escaped."

She rubbed her neck with her free hand as her mind started spinning trying to come up with potential opportunities to earn credits.

"Lorna." Obi-Wan's voice was tinged with warning.

Her head snapped to where he was standing just under the starboard engine. He was staring at something on the hull. She came to stand at his side to see what he was looking at.

Attached to the hull plating was a small tracking device. A red light blinked intermittently on it, indicating that it was functioning.

"I performed a detailed check of the ship's exterior when I landed. I made sure I wasn't tracked," she asserted.

"Are you certain?" Obi-Wan asked, the pitch of his voice rising in alarm.

"Yes! Ben, I am certain. This tracker was placed at some point after I arrived."

"We need to be cautious in Mos Eisley," he said. "Be on your guard."

He reached up and pried the tracker off the Comet. Using a combination of the Force and his own strength, he crushed it in his fist