Tatooine Ghost

by Troy Denning

  “Yes. I’ve told you that.”

  “So you have.” Watto seemed to sag in the air, then he glanced at his chronometer. “Let me see the lens. I need to hurry if I’m going to catch the buyer before he goes to Pavo Prime.”

  “First you give me the deactivator wand,” Cliegg said, “and tell me where the transmitter bomb is hidden.”

  “It’s behind her jaw, on the left.” Watto touched his own chin to illustrate, then reached into his vest and produced a small electronic wand. All of the status lights were dark. “Here’s the wand, but you won’t need it. I deactivated her transmitter a long time ago.”

  “What?” Shmi gasped. “When?”

  “A few months after I lost the boy.” Watto turned away and looked as though he was wiping his eye. “The way you were moping around, I was afraid you would get yourself blown up.”

  “You mean I could have left? Anytime?”

  Watto shrugged. “But you didn’t.”

  Watto passed the wand over to Cliegg, then fluttered down to the box and reached for the lid clasps.

  “Watto!” Shmi called. “Wait a—”

  But Watto was already opening the box. A spray of iridescent light spilled out beneath the lid, and the journal display erupted into brilliant flashes of color.

  Watto’s voice could barely be heard. “You’ve blinded me!”

  The entry dissolved into a white blur.

  “The lens,” Han surmised. “I’ve heard about those. They were used to power the old Renatta photon drives. They say a good Tobal lens could convert heat to light at close to a hundred percent efficiency.”

  “My data banks indicate that it could be fully one hundred percent,” C-3PO reported. “Depending, of course, on the skill of the gemologist who shaped it.”

  Herat started to ask something, but was drowned out by an urgent growl from Chewbacca. Han turned to find the Wookiee pointing into the sky behind them, where the twin efflux needles of a nearby TIE were making a slow curve across the night. After their little show depicting the Tusken assault, it was probably attempting a “rescue.”

  They watched in breathless silence as the needles vanished behind the wall of the ravine, then waited another two minutes for the TIE to return. When the sky remained dark—or at least free of TIE efflux—Han cautiously moved the hoverscout up to the gully rim.

  “Anybody see anything?” He and Leia had to lower their projectile-webbed windows to get a clear view of their own quarter of the sky. “Take all the time you need.”

  After ten minutes of looking, they were finally convinced the TIE was gone. They emerged from the ravine, and Han started for the oasis again.

  They had traveled only a few minutes before Leia said, “Han, maybe we should duck over to Obi-Wan’s and give things a few hours to settle down.”

  Han took a moment before answering, not trying to decide whether Leia was right, but wondering what had come over her. She was not the type to get her circuits shorted by a close call.

  Finally, he said, “Kitster may not have a few hours. And your boss will be recalling the Wraiths in twenty-two hours.”

  Leia sighed, then nodded. “I know that. But there’s something I really need to tell you.”

  Alarm whistles started to go off in Han’s head. “Again?” He glanced over at Leia, who was biting her lip and staring at the floor. “Now? It’s a little late to be telling me the Provisional Council wants you to swing by Obi-Wan’s and pick up an old lightsaber.”

  Leia shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “There’s always a second time.”

  “Han, there just hasn’t been a chance to tell you.” Leia gestured at the windscreen, reminding Han that he was piloting. “Since we came to Tatooine, I’ve been having, well, some Force-experiences.”

  “Force-experiences?” Han asked, once again paying attention to the terrain display. “Like what? Waking up in midair? Talking to dewbacks? Accidentally moving sandcrawlers around with your mind?”

  Leia took a deep breath, then said, “Visions. Sensations.”

  “My wife has been seeing things?” Han asked. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “It’s more complicated than that,” Leia said. “That dream I had on the way insystem? It was Luke wearing Darth Vader’s mask. At least, I think it was Luke.”

  Han began to worry. “But it was only a dream, right?”

  “That’s what I thought,” Leia said. “Until I saw your swoop abandoned in the desert.”

  “What do you mean, ‘saw’?”

  “In front of my face, Han, like a hologram. It looked exactly the same as when we found it with the Darklighters.” Leia paused, as though she was going to add another example, then said simply, “I’ve been having Force-visions.”

  Chewbacca groaned a question.

  “I’m not as sure of the sensations,” Leia said. “I just keep finding certain things here on Tatooine familiar… and I’m fairly sure the Force has been guiding—make that pushing—me much of the way. My father has popped up too many places in this journey for it to be coincidence.”

  “Let’s talk about the oasis again,” Han said. “You’ve seen something bad there?”

  “This is more of a sensation,” Leia said. “Like going there now is a bad idea.”

  “I could’ve told you that without the Force,” Han said. “But I don’t see that we have any choice—or that things will settle down if we wait. When that TIE doesn’t find us, the Imperials will get suspicious. And those Tuskens didn’t just happen to be camped nearby when we stopped. They were watching their back trail.”

  Chewbacca groaned his agreement, adding that the sooner they hit the oasis, the better Kitster’s chances—and theirs. Chances of what, he did not say.

  But Herat had a completely different idea, which C-3PO explained after the Jawa’s long jabber.

  “Herat thinks it is incumbent upon you to turn around and help her reclaim her clan’s sandcrawler from the Squibs, as your assurances that they would never activate the reactor core are obviously without merit.”

  “Not a chance,” Han said.

  “How can she know it was her sandcrawler the TIE was following?” Leia asked.

  Herat chittled a reply.

  “How many sandcrawlers do you think such a small area can support?” C-3PO translated. “One.”

  “Then we won’t have any trouble finding it later, will we?” Han retorted.

  He continued toward the oasis, troubled by what Leia had told them, but uncertain as to what else they could do. The Squibs knew this country. There was a good chance they had figured out what had happened to the painting and were on their way to the ghost oasis. And that meant the Imperials soon would be as well, given that they were tracking the sandcrawler from the air. Han and Leia’s best chance—probably their only chance—was to beat everybody else there. But they were still an hour away.

  After a few minutes of travel, Leia seemed to decide that Han was right about the detour and resumed viewing her grandmother’s journal. Focusing on the terrain scanner, Han listened with half an ear as Shmi described her hurried move to the Lars moisture farm. She took only her clothes, her journal, and a droid Anakin had started building years before.

  The next six months of entries were more sporadic and filled with data skips. But Han caught enough of the story to know that while Shmi loved both Cliegg and Owen deeply, she missed Anakin more every day. Her nightly entries grew longer and more filled with reminiscences about his childhood, and she sometimes lapsed into speculation about what he might be doing at the Jedi Temple, or where he might be traveling in the galaxy.

  Finally, Leia came to an entry that was completely intact.

  20:07:22

  Annie, today your mother is a married woman. Cliegg waited until last month to ask me—I guess he wanted to be certain it was him I loved and not just freedom. It was a simple ceremony in Anchorhead. Owen came, of course, and a few of Cliegg and Owen’s friends
. Kitster, Wald, and Amee were there, and they asked about you. I wish you could have been there, but I know the Jedi wouldn’t have allowed it, even if the message we sent had been accepted. And I understand, I truly do.

  I just wish you could have been there.

  Watto surprised us all by showing up uninvited. I thought he would make a scene when he saw Owen, but he just squinted and said, “You!” Then he offered Cliegg a discount on used parts and told me that if times grew hard on the moisture farm, Wald wasn’t doing such a good job as his assistant. He still hasn’t found a buyer for the Renatta needle ship—but he’s asking a million credits! Who does he think is going to buy it?

  Shmi fell silent a moment, then continued.

  Owen makes me miss you so much, Anakin. I can’t look at him without thinking of you—not that I see you when I look at him. That’s not what I mean. Owen is strong like his father: pragmatic and certain of his ways, grateful for simple joys and for his life on the moisture farm. Your eyes were always on the stars. Even as a young boy, you had to prove yourself to everyone you met, be the best at everything you did. To you, this wonderful place would have been a prison.

  But I love you both so very much, and I’m sure that if—no, when—you and Owen finally meet someday, you will be great friends.

  Leia asked for the next entry, then cursed.

  Han glanced over to see datelines blinking past with no entries, or entries so filled with electronic snow that it was impossible to see a face.

  “More data skips?”

  Leia nodded, then asked, “Han, do the heads-up displays in Imperial hoverscouts have retinal trackers?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Then I suggest you keep your eyes on the terrain scanner,” Leia snapped, “because I can’t see a thing in the dark!”

  Han looked forward and casually steered them around a bantha-sized boulder he really hoped no one else could see.

  Leia continued to struggle with the journal. Finally, a year later, she began to reach intact entries again. Mostly, they were typical farm stuff—talk about crop plantings, the low moisture content in the air, worries over market prices.

  20:32:23

  Today started a disaster, Annie. I opened the number three growing vault to discover I hadn’t set off enough stink capsules the night before, and profoggs had ruined a whole crop of tangaroots. It was too much for me. After the dry winds and the pallie blight, I began to feel like I had brought a curse to the farm. I just sat down in despair.

  And that’s how Owen found me. He is so kind, Annie. He told me it wasn’t my fault, that he had checked the vault the night before, too. I don’t believe him, but it was a nice thing to say. We started to clean up, and I asked how we were going to stop the problems we have been having.

  Do you know what Owen did then? He caught a pair of profoggs, then held up the scaly little beasts and offered to show me how to make profogg stew.

  It wasn’t until evening that I began to see what he was really trying to say, Annie. The three of us were eating the profogg stew—and it tastes even worse than it sounds—and Cliegg and Owen were talking about the low price of water, and about how we wouldn’t make much recapturing the moisture from the ruined crop. Cliegg shrugged and said, “We don’t own the farm, it owns us.”

  Then Owen slurped down a big spoonful of stew, made a satisfied sound, and said we were looking at this the wrong way. What we really needed to do was start a profogg ranch! You had to be there, eating that awful stew to understand, but we all broke out laughing, and we didn’t stop until tears came.

  That’s when I finally understood the secret of being a moisture farmer, Annie. You can’t fight life out here. You just take what Tatooine gives you and find a way to use it.

  Leia shut off the journal and fell silent. Han started to ask if something was wrong, then noticed that the terrain was starting to break up into ravines ahead—a sign that they were moving closer to the edge of the Dune Sea.

  “Mine,” Leia whispered. “Mine.”

  “What?” Han asked.

  “Nothing.” Leia shook her head. “Sorry. Just something I’ve been trying to understand.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll tell you when I do.”

  When Han glanced over, her eyes were closed, her head tipped back as though her mind had retreated to some other world.

  “Mine,” she whispered.

  “Yours?”

  Leia’s eyes snapped open, and she pointed into the darkness on her side of the hoverscout. “Turn here.”

  “Turn?” Han looked over. When Leia did not immediately remind him to watch the terrain scanners, he knew it was important. “Here?”

  Leia nodded and continued to look out over the dark desert. “We have to stop at Obi-Wan’s.”

  “We talked about that.” Han continued on his current course. “The sooner we get there, the—”

  “Han, trust me.” It was not a request. “We have to stop at Obi-Wan’s. We’re not going to save Kitster or anyone else unless we do. There’s something there we need.”

  “What?” Han demanded. “A spare lightsaber? Wookiee armor? Assault artillery?”

  “I don’t know,” Leia said. “I have this feeling. I have to trust it.”

  Chewbacca howled disapprovingly.

  “Indeed,” C-3PO agreed. “I have always had the utmost faith in Mistress Leia’s feelings. Especially when it means not rushing into combat.”

  “Oh, a feeling.” Han shook his head in surrender, then started the long swing toward Obi-Wan’s. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Even deep into the starlit desert night, it was clear that Obi-Wan had chosen the site of his hermitage as much for its safety as for its beauty. More house than hut, the dwelling had been built on a promontory at the edge of the Western Dune Sea, high enough above the rolling sands to afford a good view of approaching vehicles and far enough back to avoid being assailed by a constant curtain of blowing grit. The only other approach, the narrow and winding gully up which Herat had guided them, was visible along its entire length from a window bubble near the back of the abode. And with curving lines and a buff exterior the same color as the surrounding terrain, the structure blended into its environment so well—at least at night—that Leia hadn’t recognized the building until the hoverscout passed within three meters of it.

  “I don’t see any spare turbolasers lying around.” Han turned the vehicle around so they could leave quickly in an emergency, then raised the access panels. “Where do we start?”

  “I don’t know.” This wasn’t something Leia wanted to admit. She had hoped that as they drew nearer to the hermitage, her feelings would grow clearer. Instead, her sense of needing to be here—her sense of security—remained strong, but her idea of why had grown more ambiguous. “I guess we just see what we find.”

  “Great.” Han drew his blaster and motioned Chewbacca into the blaster turret. “It’ll probably be a krayt dragon.”

  “Bbberddle awdoway tchters,” Herat chiddled.

  “Kenobi’s house is too small for krayt dragons, but watch out for anoobas,” C-3PO translated. “If you don’t mind, I’ll wait here to help keep watch.”

  After a quick moonlight reconnaissance of the area—there was little to examine but an old vaporator pad behind the house—Leia and Han returned to find C-3PO keeping watch in the blaster turret. Chewbacca was kneeling in the back, reaching into the cargo area behind the seat, where Herat lay tucked into a corner clutching something to her chest. They were snarling and squawking furiously, producing a noise that sounded like fighting womp rats.

  Han opened the rear cargo hatch and plucked Herat out by the scruff of her hood.

  “Are you two trying to wake the whole neighborhood?”

  Herat jabbered something and tucked a military data-pad under her cloak. Chewbacca roared at her.

  “Threepio?” Leia called.

  C-3PO continued to study the sky. “How ver
y interesting. Mistress Leia—”

  “Threepio, will you stop stargazing and do your job?” Han nearly had to shout to make himself heard.

  “Of course, Captain Solo, but this—”

  “Threepio!” Han lifted Herat higher. “What’s Herat saying?”

  “That she found the datapad and it belongs to her.” C-3PO looked back into the sky. “You really should—”

  “Later, Threepio,” Leia said. “We’ll tell you when we want to know.”

  Chewbacca rumbled that he only wanted to see the pad because he saw a picture of Han on it. Of course, the Jawa understood none of this—which, Leia knew, was the problem.

  “Herat,” she said, “we’ll make you a deal.”

  This instantly calmed the Jawa. “M’kwat kenza?”

  “Let me see the datapad for a few minutes, and you can keep it.”

  Herat chittered a long question.

  “She would like to know how much rent you will pay.”

  “How much will you pay me not to drop you?” Han asked.

  Herat pulled the datapad from beneath her cloak and passed it over. Leia quickly found a message titled, “Commander’s Directive TS3519 Re: Suspected Rebels.” In quick succession, the display showed file images of Han, Leia, and Chewbacca.

  A communications officer’s voice identified them by name.

  “Chimaera Intelligence has reason to believe said Rebels are the ones seeking Killik Twilight. Command directs they be captured alive. Any trooper slaying one will cost his platoon a week’s liberty and one month’s wages. Fines are cumulative, should more than one be killed.”

  “They certainly know who we are,” Leia said. “That’s bad.”

  “Yeah, but they’re not supposed to kill us,” Han said. “That’s good.”

  The directive continued, “Command further directs that if they cannot be captured alive, they be slain regardless of the aforementioned consequences. Any trooper or troopers allowing said Rebels to escape will be tried and executed for crimes against the Empire. His platoon will be denied liberty for a year and forfeit their pay for the duration of their service.”