The Evil Experiment

8

Obi-Wan and Astri hitched a ride on a tech transport to Sorrus. The planet was a large one, with varied climates. Over its vast surface were rugged mountain ranges, huge deserts, and sprawling cities. Large bodies of water were scarce, and a complex irrigation system crisscrossed the planet in an intricate series of waterways and pipes.

The pilot of the tech transport landed in Yinn La Hi, one of three capital cities. Obi-Wan thanked him for the lift.

The pilot gazed out at the city. “Good luck to you. I hope you know where you’re going.”

“A desert region called Arra,” Obi-Wan told him, picking up his survival pack. “Are the Sorrusians a friendly people?”

The pilot grinned. “Sure. As long as you don’t ask them any questions.”

Obi-Wan understood the pilot’s words within a short amount of time.

He asked three different passersby for information on where to find transport to Arra. Each Sorrusian ignored him.

“Friendly place,” Astri said. “I can see where Reesa On gets her sparkling personality.”

Ahead Obi-Wan glimpsed a transport center. There, a clerk behind an information desk directed them to a public air transport that made one stop at an outpost in the desert of Arra.

Although it was customary throughout the galaxy for Jedi to hitch rides on public transport without payment, here on Sorrus there was no such courtesy extended. Astri and Obi-Wan paid for their seats with their few credits.

It was a journey of several hours to the desert. The cities thinned out and the landscape became rugged. They flew over a mountain range. On one side were green fields, on the other desert. Dunes stretched as far as the eyes could see, with not a green plant growing. All Obi-Wan could see were rocks.

The transport pulled up to a desolate landing platform. Obi-Wan and Astri were the only ones to exit.

The air transport rose and disappeared. They stood on the platform and gazed at the sea of sand. The wind blew pellets into their faces, and they pulled up their hoods.

“What now?” Astri asked.

“I have the coordinates of the last-known camp of the tribe,” Obi-Wan said. “Let’s start walking.”

“I’m beginning to worry that this might be a waste of time,” Astri said as she trudged beside him. “We might not find the tribe at all.”

“It’s too soon to worry,” Obi-Wan answered. But he, too, felt uncertain. There wasn’t a sign of life anywhere, not even vegetation. Who could survive in such a harsh land? Perhaps the tribe had moved on.

They hiked to a sheltered canyon near the foothills of the mountain range. The coordinates matched what Tahl had given him, but there was no sign of a tribe. Obi-Wan slogged through the sand, looking for a clue.

“If they were here, they aren’t now,” Obi-Wan said. He kicked at a rock. “I don’t know how any living being could survive here. There’s no food, no water.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Astri bent down and showed him the underside of the rock. It was covered in a greenish substance. She grinned. “Hungry?”

Obi-Wan smiled and turned to scan the walls of the canyon. “I think there might be caves in the canyon wall.”

Astri squinted. “Perhaps they take shelter there during the hot part of the day.”

“It’s worth a look,” Obi-Wan agreed.

Suddenly, an eerie, high-pitched sound split the air. Obi-Wan could not tell if it was the wind, or some strange being.

“What was that?” Astri asked fearfully.

He glanced around, searching for movement. His hand went to his lightsaber. He sensed danger, but he did not know where it was located.

The Force whirled around him, pulsating with the rhythm of the moving sand. He saw a flicker of movement high above. Something was flying down toward him from the canyon wall. Then, more and more shapes filled the air.

Not shapes. Sorrusians. Obi-Wan and Astri were under attack!

Obi-Wan leaped backward as one Sorrusian nearly landed on top of him.

They were armed with weapons Obi-Wan had never seen before. They were carved from bone and sharpened on each end. His attackers whirled them in a circle so fast that the sharpened ends were just a deadly blur. There were ten, eleven, twelve of them. He was vastly outnumbered.

Unused to battle, Astri stumbled backward, panic on her face at the numbers of Sorrusians. She fumbled for her vibroblade.

Obi-Wan needed to move fast to cover Astri. He leaped and spun, neatly cleaving his opponent’s weapon in two.

“Stay behind me, Astri!” he called. She moved a few steps backward, already slashing with her vibroblade at an attacker from her right.

Obi-Wan cleanly sliced another Sorrusian’s weapon in two, and sprang to protect Astri from three Sorrusians advancing from different directions.

Astri’s vibroblade came down on the sharp blade of the Sorrusian weapon, slicing it to a dull end. Lightsaber pulsing, Obi-Wan whirled and dispatched two opponents with a sky-to-ground sweep followed by a quick reversal. He dropped to one knee and sliced the weapon of the third.

The others had seen what the lightsaber could do and began to retreat. Obi-Wan saw this with relief. He did not want to harm any members of this tribe. Any chance he had of cooperation would be lost.

One of the robed members of the tribe raised a hand and emitted a harsh, cawing sound. Simultaneously, the rest of the tribe dropped their weapons.

“We do not bring trouble to your people,” Obi-Wan said to the Sorrusian who had raised his hand. “We come for help.”

“We do not help strangers.”

There was a gasp when Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber and it disappeared with a buzzing sound.

The Sorrusian leader circled around Obi-Wan and Astri. He said something in a dialect Obi-Wan didn’t understand. His gestures indicated that they had hoped to find something worth stealing and were disappointed.

Obi-Wan reached into his survival pack. “I have food capsules.” He held out a handful of capsules, and they were quickly snatched away. A female handed them out to the children first.

Obi-Wan watched the tribe eat hungrily. There wasn’t much to satisfy them. He wished he had more food. Astri quickly distributed her rations as well.

Obi-Wan took a few steps toward the leader, who had refused the rations and watched the tribe eat.

“Why do you stay here if you are starving?” Obi-Wan asked. “Across the mountains is a fertile valley.”

The leader said nothing. Obi-Wan feared the stony Sorrusian silence would not crack. But the leader must have felt he owed Obi-Wan a response since they had given a gift of food.

“You think we remain here because we choose to do so?” He shook his head. “Once there were fertile patches in the desert as well. We planted and had plenty to eat. It was a hard life, but it suited us. Then ten years ago a dam was built. The water was diverted from our lands. Harsh winters have followed, one after another. What little land we were able to cultivate has dried up.”

“Then why do you remain?”

“We have tried to move to more fertile lands, but are constantly driven back by other tribes. We are too weak to take land by force.”

“The government of Sorrus will not help you? The planet has an irrigation system—”

The leader gave a harsh laugh. “The government of Sorrus built the dam. And worst of all, our tribe voted for it. We were told it would benefit us. But to get irrigation systems, one must bribe officials.”

The members of the tribe began to drift back toward the canyon wall.

“We have come looking for someone,” Astri said to the leader.

He did not answer, but kept his glance on the sandy expanse.

“She uses the alias Reesa On,” Obi-Wan said. “She is a bounty hunter. She is about my companion’s height and size, but with a shaved head. You must know her. She comes from your tribe.”

The leader did not answer this time.

“Please help us,” Astri said quietly. “Lives of those we treasure depend on it.”

The leader simply walked away.

Astri looked after him, distress on her face. “Make him tell us, Obi-Wan. We can’t just give up. “

No, they couldn’t give up. But what could they do?

A Sorrusian boy a little younger than Obi-Wan came forward. “I know who you are looking for,” he told them. “I know her real name and things about her. I can tell you things.”

Obi-Wan gave him a shrewd glance. “What do you want in return?”

The boy pointed to Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. “This.”

No Jedi was ever willingly separated from his lightsaber. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force. He turned his attention to the boy’s mind.

“You admire the lightsaber, but do not want to possess it,” Obi-Wan said. “You will tell us the information freely.”

The boy looked puzzled. “No, I won’t. I just told you that. It’s a trade, or nothing.”

It never failed to amaze him. Just when he began to feel confident of his Jedi abilities, he was reminded that he was only an apprentice. He could not access the Force as surely as Qui-Gon. He could not affect the boy.

“Come on. What do you say?” The boy’s avid eyes rested on Obi-Wan’s lightsaber, tucked securely in his belt.

Stricken with doubt, Obi-Wan hesitated. He could not give up his lightsaber. It was unthinkable. But was it the only way to save his Master?

He felt trapped between centuries of Jedi tradition and his own anguish. The dilemma squeezed the air from his lungs. He could not speak.

He could not choose.

And meanwhile, his Master could be dying.