Kenobi

by John Jackson Miller

  —and stared, mystified, at the gaderffii in his hand.

  “That’s also from your stash,” Ben called from above.

  He’s using the loudhailer, Orrin realized. Somehow, the man had returned to the floor of the rift on foot in the smoky chaos and switched the gaderffii for the loudhailer. But there wasn’t time for Orrin to contemplate that. Half the posse was staring at him as he held the Tusken weapon.

  And wherever Kenobi was, he saw it.

  “They’re interested in your collection, Orrin. The weapons and clothing you’ve taken from Tuskens in the past. That you’ve used—you and your family—in strikes against your neighbors!”

  Aware of the stares, Orrin threw the weapon to the ground, repulsed. “What a crazy story,” he said, forcing a chuckle. “Dancing with Tuskens is Kenobi’s game!”

  “You have me wrong,” Ben said, his voice coming from everywhere and nowhere. “I only wanted to live here in peace. You’re the one who’s making war, all to sell your protection service!”

  “It’s not ours,” Veeka yelled, clearly rattled. “Tell them, Dad!”

  Orrin looked urgently toward her. Shut up, he implored with his eyes. I have to do the talking!

  “He’s wrong,” Orrin said, facing the others. “We keep some trophies, sure. Who wouldn’t? But he got this stuff from his friends back there, who sent the banthas. And the Settlers’ Call Fund isn’t ours, either. It’s a public trust!”

  “Then tell them the balance,” Ben said. “Tell them you haven’t been stealing from it to pay your debts. Tell them you didn’t attack Tyla Bezzard’s father when he wouldn’t join, leaving the man hobbled and unable to save himself later when the Tuskens attacked for real.” His voice grew louder. “Tell them you didn’t attack the Ulbreck place yourself, last night. Tell them you didn’t flee, when I happened along!”

  Orrin straightened, searching for a friendly face on which to fix his gaze. There weren’t many. One settler after another looked angered, agitated, or bewildered. And Wyle Ulbreck looked ready to explode. “Is that true, Gault? Is that true?”

  Mullen looked at his father, mortified.

  But there was a way out. Orrin fished for his best smile, and found it. “People, people. I’m a farmer,” he said, shouting so all could hear. “Like you. I get water out of the air. That man—he gets stories out of it.” He shrugged theatrically. “You’ve enjoyed my generosity. You know I do well enough on my own. I have all the money I would ever need!”

  “That’s excellent news,” came another amplified voice, this one from the desert. Orrin looked back, suddenly aware of the large hoverskiff floating outside the rift. On its deck, flanked by gun-toting thugs, was Mosep Binneed. He wore a neck brace and held a loudhailer in front of his mouth. “Jabba wants his money, Orrin Gault! And he wants it now!”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  A’YARK STOOD FLAT AGAINST one of The Pillars and looked down the rocky incline to the settlers far below.

  “The Hutt’s people,” she said, her voice dripping with disgust. “We can smells them.” The Tusken cast her eye across the natural corridor. “You said there would only be settlers.”

  Ben crouched nearby, holding Orrin’s green sound device and surveying the scene below. Beneath his cowl, Ben had wrapped a loose cloth over his lower face in deference to the Tuskens’ sensibilities; now he pulled it down and scratched his chin. The human seemed startled by the appearance of the skiff. “This wasn’t in my plan.”

  The war leader’s ire boiled. “You told us—”

  “I told you I’d bring Orrin Gault to justice. He could choose between his people’s justice—or yours.” Ben shook his head. “I thought he’d turn back.”

  A’Yark didn’t care what the settlers wanted. Ben had brought the enemy to their gate, as promised, but they’d come in far greater numbers than the clan could oppose. A’Yark had stationed the few warriors she had at the other access points, but if the settlers really wanted to follow Ben up into The Pillars, nothing could stop them. The high camp would be overrun.

  Ben had acted quickly then, calling for the Tusken women and children to herd their precious banthas down into the arroyo. Many of the banthas had lost their riders in the gorge massacre, and A’Yark had been pleased to see them getting some small revenge. The animals had bought them precious time. But now the arrival of the Hutt’s minions had compounded the danger. The criminals did not fear the Tuskens, as all should.

  It was the Hutts that had killed Sharad Hett, years earlier.

  A’Yark knew that Ben deserved death for bringing this upon them. She would give it to him, were it in her power.

  But in the light of the suns, she had to admit their fall had begun long before he arrived.

  “It went wrong,” she said, not knowing why she was speaking. “We are so weak—Tuskens are all so weak—because of what happened, more than three cycles ago.”

  Ben looked at her, curious. “What happened?”

  “There was another massacre,” she said. “A camp of mighty warriors, wiped away. The women and children, too.”

  For some reason, her words seemed to strike a target deep within Ben. “The children, all killed?” He swallowed. “A krayt dragon? Some other predator?”

  A’Yark shook her head. “A predator, yes. But death came on two legs,” she said. “We know.”

  “But the children,” Ben said. “Settlers don’t usually kill them, do they?”

  “Settlers orphan, settlers abandon,” she said. “Predator slaughtered.”

  Ben paused, as if seeming to piece something together. “I wonder …”

  A’Yark saw his eyes fix forward, filling with dread. It looked to her as if Ben was in another place, now, imagining—or experiencing—something that filled his mind with horror. “What?” she asked.

  Ben regained his composure. “Something I’m going to have to look into at another time,” he said. “I’m starting to suspect the Sand People’s confidence may not have been the only victim of that event.”

  “No matter now,” she said, withdrawing from the lookout point. “I must hide my people.”

  “I’ll help,” Ben said, rising to follow. “Protecting homes is my speciality.” With that, he turned back and followed her up the incline.

  * * *

  Mullen gaped at his father. “Jabba’s people? It’s too soon! We’ve got five hours yet!”

  Orrin stared wordlessly at the new arrivals. More landspeeders laden with lowlifes arrived behind the skiff. But why now? And how did they know to come?

  Settlers trained their weapons on the skiff, keeping the criminals at bay. The vigilantes, already made restless by the banthas and Ben’s words, looked positively rattled now. Jabba’s thugs lived right alongside Tuskens in the settlers’ list of enemies. Both lived by a strange code in a world to themselves—until they came out to terrorize the peaceful. Now they’d blocked the settlers’ access to the desert, even as they themselves had trapped Ben.

  Waller goggled. His crimson eyebrows flared as he looked at Orrin. “Jabba? You dealt with Jabba?”

  Before Orrin could think of a response, Mosep spoke again. “I was told you were taking an army—such as it is—back into the hills. Now, why would you do such a thing when a bill is due today?”

  Veeka looked at her father, concerned.

  “It’s an old story,” the Nimbanel accountant continued, from the deck of the skiff. “People refuse their obligations and try to run. Some take up arms and try to fight.” He snapped his hairy fingers, and Jorrk took up station at the skiff’s deck gun. “The afternoon deadline is rescinded, Orrin. You will pay us now.”

  “What’s this about?” Orrin yelled nervously. “Did the Tusken-lover bring you here?” Elated to have hit on another tactic, he brightened as he looked around. “I guess Kenobi works with scum, too!”

  “I don’t know who you mean,” Mosep said, growing impatient. Behind the skiff, another vehicle was arriving from the north. “Your neighbor c
alled me.”

  My neighbor? Orrin swallowed, his throat dry. He had rivals among the farmers, here. Did one of them know something? He looked around in shock and surprise, anxious to make a good show of it. “Is one of you here trying to set me up—to embarrass me with this nonsense?”

  The landspeeder that had been racing up from behind now passed through the criminals’ line of vehicles. Settlers raised rifles against the hovercraft entering their midst—and then lowered them, as they recognized the driver.

  Navigating among the overturned landspeeders, Annileen brought the ruby JG-8 to a stop near one of the pathways leading up the rift. She stepped out near the Gaults and held a red comlink high. “I called them,” she said.

  Aboard the skiff, Mosep raised an identical communicator: the one Orrin had dropped in his lair. He smiled toothily. “Good to see you, Mistress Calwell.”

  Orrin gaped at Annileen. “Y-you?”

  “Yes.” Catching her breath, she turned to the vigilantes. “Ben’s innocent. I heard what Orrin said back at the Claim. Now you should hear the real story!”

  Mullen started menacingly toward Annileen. “Woman, you’d better not!”

  Annileen turned to see Veeka approaching from her other side. Veeka clutched at Annileen’s arm. Her eyes looked wild. “Think about that whelp of yours!” Veeka said.

  Orrin could only look at Annileen imploringly.

  Annileen pulled her arm free from Veeka’s grasp. Staring at Orrin, she spoke with an assurance he’d heard before—the tower of power he’d often described her as. “I’m not going to let you hurt someone whose only crime was to help me,” she said. “I do care about my family. But what you’ve done is wrong!”

  Ulbreck stepped forward, rifle in hand and clearly flustered. “I don’t know what in blazes is going on here!”

  “I think I do,” Waller said. He shook his head at Orrin. “We trusted you.” All around, settlers began to turn their weapons away from the skiff and its associated hovercraft and toward the Gaults.

  Orrin looked to his right. There was the USV-5, where it had come to rest after the stampede. He started toward it—

  —only to see his precious hovercraft explode in a blossom of metal and flame.

  Spun around by the shock wave, Orrin saw what had happened. On the skiff, Mosep gestured to the Klatooinian at the smoking deck gun. “Jorrk’s an oaf, but with a big enough gun, even he can’t miss,” the accountant said. “You people can’t have Gault until we’re finished. He owes us money!”

  Ulbreck shot a hateful look at the Nimbanel. “You pirates don’t have any say here! This is the range!”

  The old farmer’s companions raised their rifles. “Our justice comes first!” another settler said.

  Mosep glanced up at the suns and mopped sweat from his fuzzy face. “You really are a trying lot,” he said. “I told Orrin’s handler it was a mistake to offer credit to any of you.” He turned the loudhailer to address his thugs. “Try not to kill the human woman who just drove up,” Mosep said. “She brought us here. It wouldn’t be polite.” He tugged at his neck brace and looked back at the settlers. “I’m sorry, but if you insist on making this unpleasant—”

  A blaster rifle sounded, followed by a high-pitched crack to Mosep’s side. Startled, he twisted his torso to see what had happened. There was Jorrk, staring stupidly at what was left of his exploded and smoking deck gun. Another shot sounded—and the Klatooinian fell backward, dead. Mosep looked toward the settlers.

  “I killed me a room full of Tuskens,” Ulbreck shouted, rifle sight set on the skiff. “I ain’t gonna let you people push me around!”

  At the sound of the old man’s words, all the settlers reached the same conclusion. As one, they turned and fired at Jabba’s thugs. Return fire came in, sending others to dive for cover behind the upturned landspeeders. On the skiff, Mosep screamed and hid behind the nearest Gamorrean, only to be flattened when the green thug took a blaster shot between the eyes.

  Stuck in the open, Orrin grabbed at Annileen, pulling her from the crossfire. For a second she looked at him, speechless—until his hand tightened around her arm.

  “Kids! Let’s go!” Orrin yelled.

  Startled, Annileen tried to pull away. But now Mullen grabbed her other arm. With blaster shots from the thugs coming into the rift, Orrin shoved her toward the JG-8, still parked nearby.

  Annileen yelled, but in the din, only Waller and two other settlers, crouching in cover, heard.

  Waller turned. “Orrin, stop!”

  With his free hand, Orrin pulled his pistol and placed it at Annileen’s head. “We’re getting out of here,” he said, pushing her toward the landspeeder.

  Veeka threw an armload of weapons into the front of the vehicle and slid behind the controls. “We can’t get through all that,” she yelled, pointing back at the raging battle.

  Orrin had no intention of going that way. He pointed to the sloping corridor leading upward, the rocky path Ben had taken up into the formation. “There! Go!”

  Under fire from Mosep’s henchmen, Waller could only watch as Orrin’s daughter gunned the JG-8 up the impossible terrain. The hovercraft whined in protest, slamming against ground it had never been designed to navigate. Stray blasterfire struck nearby. A steering vane caught against an outcrop and snapped off. Then the landspeeder left the battle behind …

  A’Yark ran across the high camp, robes flying.

  “To the caves!” she yelled, herding elder and animal alike. Children and scaly canine massiffs squealed and ran, leaving chores and meals unfinished near the sacred well.

  The clearing was a somewhat level theater surrounded by more of the great towers of stone, half a kilometer up the formation. Most of the day it was in shadows, but now, at mid-suns, all was exposed. To east and west, crumbling blocks piled against the mountains. Normally, those offered shade and shelter; today, they were the hiding place of last resort. A’Yark shoved blaster rifles into the hands of a pair of nurses heading off to hide the children. She had no confidence they would know what to do with the weapons. She had waited too long to teach them.

  A mechanical noise came from the gap to the north: the downward passage that had been guarded by A’Yark and Ben. A landspeeder, she instantly realized. The ascent should have been impossible! Desperately, she looked to either side. Their few warriors were still down at their observation posts, watching the firefight. There was no way to call them. Time was up.

  She turned to see Ben running with a writhing pair of Tusken toddlers, carrying them to cover. Gaderffii in hand, she dashed toward him.

  Handing off the second child to a Tusken woman in hiding, Ben looked to a wide opening between the titanic stones to the south. “That way?” he asked.

  “Bad country,” A’Yark said. “It is too late. They are here. Quickly!”

  A’Yark and Ben slid over a collapsed pile of granite. Looking back over it, they saw the red landspeeder thumping over the rocky entrance in the north.

  “Orrin,” Ben said quietly. “He just won’t turn back.”

  A’Yark looked out. The Smiling One wasn’t alone. His offspring were in the front seats, and he held Annileen in the back, at gunpoint. Seconds later the landspeeder ground to an anguished halt on the rough terrain, eighty meters from their position. Orrin’s children stepped out and looked around warily.

  The warrior quietly set down her gaderffii. There was a rifle behind her. She reached for it, but Ben touched her gloved hand. “You can’t,” he said. “They have Annileen!”

  “She does not matter,” A’Yark whispered to Ben.

  “I decide that.”

  A’Yark shook her head. Madness. The humans were arming themselves. Would more follow soon?

  Held by Orrin, Annileen called out. “Ben—if you’re here, stay away!”

  A’Yark couldn’t hear what Annileen’s captors said to her after that, but it was clear they were doing nothing to keep her from yelling.

  “They mean to flush me o
ut,” Ben whispered. He felt for the lightsaber beneath his cloak—and then withdrew his hand. “I can’t endanger Annileen.”

  “Then I attacks.” A’Yark clutched Ben’s wrist. “You, too. You have a duty.”

  “Don’t worry.” Ben looked behind, to where three children were cowering beneath an overhang. “I told you, I’ll protect your people if Orrin should—”

  “Not that.” A’Yark looked at Ben, searchingly. Can he not know what all Tuskens knew?

  She spoke quietly but quickly. “Orringault showed his true face. You kills him now, or he pursues you forever!” She pointed to the suns. “It is the way of skybrothers.”

  Ben stared. “This—this is another legend?”

  “It is the legend.”

  A’Yark watched Ben, who contemplated the story. After a moment, he shook his head. “I won’t leave this undone. But I won’t risk Annileen, either.” He looked to the left, to the forest of monoliths piled against the western mount. “Stay here,” he said, crawling away behind cover. “I have an idea!”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  ORRIN SAW NO COLOR in the place, apart from the landspeeder. Even its showroom shine was gone now, buried beneath dust. Veeka knelt beside it, examining an undercarriage battered from the raucous ride up the mountain.

  “Will she run?” Orrin asked, still holding Annileen.

  Veeka shook her head. “Stabilizers are gone,” she said. “You could fly it, if you don’t care where it goes.”

  “There’s nowhere to go,” Mullen said, looking warily around the abandoned camp. “How can anyone live in a place like this?”

  “I wouldn’t call it living.” Orrin sneered contemptuously. He shoved Annileen toward Mullen. “Hold her.”

  Orrin scanned the bases of the stony pylons around them. Reaching a decision, he checked his flak vest and blaster. “Veeka, forget the speeder and watch for snipers. I’m going to try something.”

  Cautiously, he walked across the rubble toward the center of the clearing. A sad well sat there, little more than a jagged hole surrounded by dented tin pots. He turned. “Kenobi!” he yelled.