Beside him, Artoo twittered a question. “I thought Yoda might have left some tapes or books behind,” Luke explained. “Something that would tell me more about the methods of Jedi training. Not much left, though, is there?”
In response, Artoo extended his little sensor plate. “Never mind,” Luke told him, starting forward. “As long as we’re here, I guess we might as well take a look.”
It took only a few minutes to cut a path through the bushes and vines with his lightsaber and to reach what was left of the house’s outer walls. For the most part they were rubble, reaching only to his waist at their highest, and covered with a crisscrossing of tiny vines. Inside was more vegetation, pushing up against, and in some places through, the old stone hearth. Half buried in the mud were Yoda’s old iron pots, covered with a strange-looking moss.
Behind him, Artoo gave a quiet whistle. “No, I don’t think we’re going to find anything useful,” Luke agreed, squatting down to pull one of the pots out of the ground. A small lizard darted out as he did so, and disappeared into the reedy grass. “Artoo, see if you can find anything electronic around here, will you? I never saw him use anything like that, but …” He shrugged.
The droid obediently raised his sensor plate again. Luke watched as it tracked back and forth … and suddenly stopped. “Find something?” Luke asked.
Artoo twittered excitedly, his dome swiveling to look back the way they’d come. “Back that way?” Luke frowned. He looked down at the debris around him. “Not here?”
Artoo beeped again and turned around, rolling with some difficulty across the uneven surface. Pausing, he swiveled his dome back toward Luke and made a series of sounds that could only have been a question. “Okay, I’m coming.” Luke sighed, forcing back the odd sense of dread that had suddenly seized him. “Lead the way.”
The sunlight filtering through the leafy canopy overhead had become noticeably dimmer by the time they came within sight of the X-wing. “Now where?” Luke asked Artoo. “I hope you’re not going to tell me that all you were picking up was our own ship.”
Artoo swiveled his dome back around, trilling a decidedly indignant denial. His sensor plate turned slightly—
To point directly at the cave.
Luke swallowed hard. “You’re sure?”
The droid trilled again. “You’re sure,” Luke said.
For a minute he just looked across through the mists at the cave, indecision swirling through his mind. There was no genuine need for him to go in there—of that much he was certain. Whatever it was Artoo had detected, it would not be anything Yoda had left behind. Not in there.
But then what was it? Leia had referred to a Bpfasshi Dark Jedi who’d come here. Could it be something of his?
Luke gritted his teeth. “Stay here, Artoo,” he instructed the droid as he started across to the cave. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Fear and anger, Yoda had often warned him, were the slaves of the dark side. Vaguely, Luke wondered which side curiosity served.3
Up close, the tree straddling the cave looked as evil as he remembered it: twisted, dark, and vaguely brooding, as if it was itself alive with the dark side of the Force. Perhaps it was. Luke couldn’t tell for sure, not with the overwhelming emanations of the cave flooding his senses. It was, clearly, the source of the low-level pressure he’d felt ever since his arrival on Dagobah, and for a moment he wondered why the effect had never been this strong before.
Perhaps because Yoda had always been here before, his presence shielding Luke from the true strength of the cave’s power.
But now Yoda was gone … and Luke was facing the cave alone.
He took a deep breath. I am a Jedi, he reminded himself firmly. Slipping his comlink from his belt, he thumbed it on. “Artoo? You copy?”
The comlink trilled back. “Okay. I’m starting in. Give me a signal when I get close to whatever it is you’re picking up.”
He got an affirmative-sounding beep. Returning the comlink to his belt, he drew his lightsaber. Taking another deep breath, he ducked under the gnarled tree roots and stepped into the cave.
This, too, was as bad as he remembered it. Dark, dank, alive with skittering insects and slimy plants, it was generally as unpleasant a place as Luke had ever been in. The footing seemed more treacherous than it had been before, and twice in the first dozen steps he nearly fell on his face as the ground gave way beneath his weight; not badly, but enough to throw him off balance. Through the mists ahead a well-remembered spot loomed, and he found himself gripping his lightsaber all the more tightly as he neared it. On this spot, once, he’d fought a nightmare battle with a shadowy, unreal Darth Vader.…
He reached the place and stopped, fighting back the fear and memories. But this time, to his relief, nothing happened. No hissing breath came from the shadows; no Dark Lord glided forward to confront him. Nothing.
Luke licked his lips and pulled the comlink off his belt. No; of course there would be nothing. He had already faced that crisis—had faced it and conquered it. With Vader redeemed and gone, the cave had nothing further to threaten him with except nameless and unreal fears, and those only if he allowed them to have power over him. He should have realized that from the start. “Artoo?” he called. “You still there?”
The little droid buzzed in reply. “All right,” Luke said, starting forward again. “How far do I have to—?”
And right in the middle of his sentence—practically in the middle of a step—the haze of the cave abruptly coalesced around him into a flickering, surreal vision …
He was on a small, open-air ground vehicle, hovering low over some sort of pit. The ground itself was indistinct, but he could feel a terrible heat rising all around him from it. Something poked hard in his back, urging him forward onto a narrow board protruding horizontally from the vehicle’s side—
Luke caught his breath, the scene suddenly coming clear. He was back on Jabba the Hutt’s skiff, being prepared for his execution in the Great Pit of Carkoon—
Ahead, he could see the shape of Jabba’s Sail Barge now, drifting a bit closer as the courtiers jostled one another for a better view of the coming spectacle. Many of the barge’s details were indistinct through the dream mists, but he could see clearly the small, dome-topped figure of Artoo at the top of the ship. Awaiting Luke’s signal …
“I’m not going to play this game,” Luke called out toward the vision. “I’m not. I’ve faced this crisis, too, and I’ve defeated it.”
But his words seemed dead even in his own ears … and even as he spoke them, he could feel the jab of the guard’s spear in his back, and could feel himself drop off the end of the plank. In midair he twisted around, grabbing the end of the board and flipping high over the guards’ heads—
He landed and turned back toward the Sail Barge, hand extended for the lightsaber Artoo had just sent arcing toward him.
It never reached him. Even as he stood there waiting for it, the weapon changed direction, curving back toward the other end of the Sail Barge. Frantically, Luke reached out for it with the Force; but to no avail. The lightsaber continued its flight—
And came to rest in the hand of a slender woman standing alone at the top of the barge.
Luke stared at her, a feeling of horror surging through him. In the mists, with the sun behind her, he could see no details of her face … but the lightsaber she now held aloft like a prize told him all he needed to know. She had the power of the Force … and had just condemned him and his friends to death.