Please Pass the Salt

“Well, Artoo, if Tatooine is the farthest planet from the bright center of the universe, then Dagobah is the armpit of the galaxy.” Exhausted from his early morning run, Luke Skywalker lay stretched out on the first spot of dry ground he'd found. "Damp and smelly."

The little astromech blew a derisive-sounding raspberry.

Luke raised up on his elbows. "Hey, no comments on my personal hygiene." He glared at his friend, then reluctantly sent a sniff toward his own armpit. "Even if it's true."

Both Luke's head and Artoo's dome swiveled to acknowledge the stooped figure shuffling silently across the clearing.

"Sleeping, still, hmm?" Yoda none-too-gently rapped his gimer stick against his student's shin, and Luke did his best not to grimace. His fledgling healing skills got a daily workout, fading the red marks on his legs. He suspected that was Yoda's intent, as there was usually a twinkling smirk in the venerable master's eye even as he wielded the gnarled weapon.

"No, Master," Luke said, jumping to his feet. "I've just returned from a run," he added unnecessarily. He knew that Yoda knew exactly where he'd been. Master Yoda always seemed to know what Luke was up to, how he was progressing, even when the wise old Jedi was no where nearby.

"Good," Yoda pronounced, already turning toward the worn path leading to a grove of twisted gnarltrees. "Warmed up, your muscles are. Ready for today's lesson."

Luke stifled a sigh. There was never any rest for the weary, or for the Jedi trainee. "Coming, Master," he murmured. "Coming."

~~~

Over five hours later, Luke thought his joints had never ached so much. Five hours of leaping, bending, pounding. Pulling himself up vines with Master Yoda strapped to his back. Deflecting blasts from seeker balls that gave no warning. Dodging leg-sized limbs that flew at his head out of nowhere.

Right now he was leaning against a meter-wide tree trunk, too tired to move. Too tired to think. Too tired to … Luke inhaled as a slightly pungent scent wafted his direction. He hauled himself upright, stretching.

He was never too tired to eat.

~~~

"Master, this smells …" Hunched over the swinging cooking pot, Luke ladled a bowl of steaming rootleaf stew. 'Delicious' wasn't quite the right word. Better than usual, though. He took a tentative bite. The stew actually seemed to have some taste.

"Savory, hmm?" Yoda's lined face crinkled in amusement.

"I was going to say palatable," Luke returned wryly. He'd learned early on that Master Yoda took great delight in Luke's dislike of his culinary offerings.

"New seasoning, I found." Yoda served himself a generous helping, then found a seat on a nearby log. It was a rare day without rain, so master and pupil were taking advantage by dining outside.

Luke downed another spoonful. Unfortunately the stringy texture hadn't improved any. "Found? Found where?"

Yoda waved his spoon randomly through the air. "Dagobah."

Rolling his eyes, Luke opted not to pursue the question. He'd decided after his first meal in Yoda's cramped mud hut that sometimes it was best not to know exactly what he was eating.

At the end of lunch, Luke dutifully gathered up the bowls and stewpot, taking everything inside for cleaning. On the chopping board in the small area that served as a kitchen, he found dried purple husks scattered about. Some still contained white pods, and several pods were in Yoda's worn mortar. Another vessel contained a white granulated powder, apparently pods that had already been crushed. Obviously this was the much-welcomed new seasoning that Yoda had found. Luke dipped one finger into the powder for a sample, then made a face at the aftertaste. A little bitter – not what he was expecting. Perhaps it took the hot water to bring out the flavor. He looked around as he was cleaning up, not seeing anything else new, so this definitely had to be Yoda's latest discovery. Well, whatever it was, it helped the taste.

Yoda took it easy on Luke during the heat and humidity of the afternoon, even if his definition of 'easy' didn't quite line up with his student's. Synchronous meditation and levitation took up the bulk of the time. Luke's pleased mood at his perceived progress, however, came to a screeching halt when he was unable to lift his sinking ship from its watery grave. Yoda didn't try to hide the disappointment he felt, and Luke spent the next hour just sitting, wondering at his chances of ever being a true Jedi.

When there was no welcoming scent to greet Luke when he trudged back to camp, he remembered that it was his turn to fix the evening meal. Having already been a let down to his master in his training, Luke was determined to not foul up such a simple task as making dinner.

Gathering up whatever edible-looking ingredients he could find in the food bins, Luke's eyes fell on the small pot of white seasoning. His cooking needed all the help it could get, and he scooped up the pot along with the armful of foodstuffs.

How could I doubt Master Yoda? Luke mused while crossing back to the lake-side cooking site. How could I doubt the Force? I- "Ack!"

Startled by a sudden movement at his feet, the normally sure-footed Jedi stumbled forward. Roots and herbs and tubers juggled loose in his grasp, but he managed to catch them all. All except the tiny pot of seasoning powder.

"No!" Biting back a Huttese curse that his aunt would have never approved of, Luke saw the pot, and its contents, fly through the air and land with a soft 'plop' into the murky water of the bog. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the scurrying lizard that had caused the culinary catastrophe. "Blast it!"

Artoo-Detoo rolled forward, tweedling in concern.

"No, I'm not going to really blast it." Luke glared at the hapless reptile as it peeked out from a clump of weeds. "Lucky for you, I don't have my blaster with me."

Shaking his head in frustration, Luke dumped the stew ingredients into the hanging pot of water and lit a fire underneath. Wincing as he stuck his hand in the swampy muck, Luke groped around until he found the small pot. Rinsing it off in the bucket of clean water next to the hut, he went inside. But rummaging through every cupboard and crate, Luke could find no more of the purple-husked pods. Yoda had apparently ground the last of them into the granules that were now dissolved in the pond.

This just wasn't Luke's day.

He considered calling out for Master Yoda, to ask him where the plants grew. But he hesitated to disturb his master's meditation in the jungle over something so trivial. He remembered what the purple husks looked like; surely he should be able to find a few on his own.

"Watch the fire, Artoo, while I see if I can find some more of those plants."

The astromech blurted an objection.

"I know we could do without them," Luke returned in a huff. "I just … I just want some, okay?"

Artoo wasn't satisfied with his master's feeble excuse. He toodled out another bleat of disapproval.

"Yes, I know it will be dark in an hour. I'll be back before then." Luke sighed in annoyance. "Just tend to the fire, and stir the pot every so often."

Why he wanted the flavoring so badly wasn't easy to justify. He'd already eaten weeks of meals so bland he could barely choke them down. What was one more? Luke stomped off into the trees, his thoughts as tangled as the dense underbrush surrounding him. Because I want to prove I'm not useless? Not incompetent?

Luke had gone nearly a quarter of a kilometer before he realized he'd been so preoccupied feeling sorry for himself that he hadn't even been watching for the purple-husked plants. All his life has he looked away … Never his mind on where he was, on what he was doing.

He was living up to Master Yoda's expectations all right – expectations that weren't very high.

From the deepening shadows under the forest canopy, Luke knew sunset was looming ever closer. In fact, it seemed closer than he'd been anticipating. And there was a familiar feeling of humidity in the air.

*splat*

*splat, splat*

Luke closed his eyes and groaned as increasingly large raindrops hit his nose, his shoulders, his boots. He knew he shouldn't be surprised. He couldn't remember a single instance since he'd arrived that it hadn't rained at least part of the day.

Forcing his attention to the self-appointed task at hand, Luke scanned his surroundings for any sign of the elusive purple-husked plants. He mentally berated himself for not asking Master Yoda for a more detailed explanation of where they grew. He'd headed out in the direction that he usually saw Yoda take on his daily meanderings. But even as long as Luke had been on planet, he still found navigating the jungles of Dagobah to be a challenge. Perhaps he should just give up and go back—

Eow-ooh

Luke froze as the eerie, inhuman cry penetrated the hum of the rainfall. He'd encountered many predators while on his training exercises. He knew there were many, many more that he hadn't come face-to-face with yet. Lightly brushing the reassuring weight of the lightsaber dangling at his hip, Luke slowly began backtracking toward camp. A rustling in the undergrowth halted his steps, and two cold yellow eyes peered at him in the swirling mists. Blinking, he rubbed the raindrops from his lashes, but the mysterious eyes were gone.

Darkness was fast approaching, and Luke didn't relish making his way through the jungle after sunset. Unclipping his lightsaber, he ignited the blade for the sole purpose of providing light. At least that is what he kept telling himself, even as a low growl to his right instinctively had the shimmering blade swinging that direction.

The animal life, respect you must. Master Yoda's gravelly voice echoed in his mind. Their planet, Dagobah is. Mine, it is not. Yours, it is not.

Luke backed away slowly from the latest perceived threat, until the branch he was backing up against began slithering around his waist. Spinning outward in escape, his blue blade barely missed slicing through the giant python hanging from an overhead limb.

Another deep guttural growl, this time much closer, had Luke switching directions yet again. The lightsaber's glow revealed a mouthful of fangs protruding from a deformed head that looked like it was molting. Luke had no intention of hanging around to see what the rest of the creature looked like. He took off running in the opposite direction, concentrating on keeping his footing in the mud and wet leaves. It wasn't until a giant knobby something clattered in front of him that Luke skidded to a halt. A white spider, almost as tall as he was. But not nearly as friendly.

Reversing course again, Luke realized in dismay that he wasn't certain if he was going the right way to reach camp. He reached out with the Force to sense Master Yoda, but the old Jedi's presence was hidden. Yoda couldn't have known that Luke would venture into the jungle when he was supposed to be making dinner, but Luke certainly wouldn't put it past his master to turn the ill-fated foray into yet another test.

And he had no idea if he was passing or failing.

The downpour was getting more intense, and Luke's progress through the muck underfoot was gradually slowing. He didn't care what Master Yoda said – this whole planet was a slimy mudhole. And as night began to fall, the temperature dropped considerably. This was one of the few things that Dagobah had in common with Tatooine – no matter how hot the days were, nights were always much colder. Luke already regretted not grabbing his jacket before taking off.

Luke's unsettled feeling of going the wrong direction grew stronger when he found himself gingerly making his way downhill. He was certain that he never went uphill on his trek outward. Some Jedi he was turning out to be. Lost in his own backyard, so to speak.

And lost, once more, in his own self-deprecating. So much so that he didn't sense the jubba bird until it flew mere centimeters from his face. Losing his footing on the slick leaves, Luke began accelerating downhill before he could catch himself. The slope steepened, turning into a full-fledged mudslide. Concentrating only on keeping hold of his now-deactivated lightsaber, he squeezed his eyes closed and held on for the ride.

It wasn't the soft landing that Luke was hoping for. A murky bog welcomed the unfortunate apprentice with a muffled splash. But it wasn't the mouthful of pond scum he gagged on that surprised Luke, nor the strands of algae clinging to his head and shoulders. He'd had plenty experience with both during his stay on the swamp planet. No, it was the dull metallic clunk under his boots as he struggled to find enough footing to wade to shore. Metal? On Dagobah?

His curiosity overcoming his discomfort, Luke took a deep breath and ducked back under the dark water. Keeping his eyes shut, he ran his hands over the surface of the mysterious object, building an image of its shape in his mind's eye. It felt like … a ship! For one insane moment, Luke thought he'd gotten so turned around that he was exploring his own X-wing. But Master Yoda had lifted his fighter onto what passed for dry ground that very afternoon. And the dimensions of whatever was stuck in the muddy bottom of this bog had little resemblance to his own ship.

Pushing himself to the surface, Luke gulped in a breath of air, then made his way to the bank. His lightsaber hilt was lying nearby in the mud, and he re-ignited the blue blade. It wasn't as effective as a glow rod, but it did illuminate enough of the area that Luke could make out a portion of the object jutting out from the bog. It appeared to be a ship, of a design that Luke was not familiar with. All thoughts of returning to the mudhut disappeared as he peered through the rain at his discovery. If only he could see the entire craft. But it would take a crane to lift a ship that large from its sunken resting spot. If only—

Luke yowled in dismay at his own obtuse blindness. Did he not have this very task demonstrated to him but a few short hours ago? It wasn't to Master Yoda that he had to prove he was capable of using the Force. It was to himself.

Taking a deep breath, Luke calmed his racing nerves. He felt the Force flowing into his mind, his limbs, his very soul. There would be no trying to lift the ship. He was going to do it.

Extending one arm to aid his focus, Luke ignored everything around him – the sizzle of the raindrops hitting his saber blade, the stinging scratches on his arms and face, the squawks and howls of the creatures witnessing his feat. There was only him and the ship. Envisioning the craft as he imagined it looked, he pictured it rising from the bog. Unlike his effort with his X-wing, he shunted from his mind any thought of the weight of the ship. It wasn't important. He didn't stop to congratulate himself when he heard the water churning with movement. It wasn't important.

Having already scouted out a small clearing adjacent to the bog, he concentrated only on moving the ship to its new home.

And move it he did. Slowly, steadily, and accurately. It wasn't until the craft's momentum came to a halt did Luke exhale in relief, letting his arm drop. But he didn't feel the expected exhaustion. He felt exhilarated.

So involved had Luke been in getting the ship out of the bog, that he hadn't considered until now how the ship had gotten into the bog. Could this be how Yoda arrived on Dagobah? He couldn't imagine the shrewd old Jedi making anything less than a dignified landing on dry ground, unlike Luke's own plummet into Dragonsnake Bog. So did Yoda submerge his vehicle into the water in an effort to hide it? Or more likely, had this area originally been dry ground, filling with swamp water over the years?

Stepping up to the craft, Luke surveyed it carefully. It appeared to be a Republic-era shuttle of some sort. Four huge arms served as landing skids for the rounded body, and oval nodes protruded from the top. In a way its shape reminded him of those pesky knobby white spiders. He found the outline of the hatch, then reached up and pulled algae away from the lockpanel. Yoda hadn't specifically taught him how to break into electronic locking pads, but he knew it was possible with the Force. All he had to do was concentrate …

With a grinding creak, the ramp began lowering so soon that Luke jumped back in surprise, despite his confidence that he could trigger the lock. He hadn't been as sure that the hatch would open at all, having been underwater for so long. But never one to waste an opportunity, Luke scrambled up the ramp, closing the hatch behind him.

Holding his saber up for illumination, Luke looked around until he found the auxiliary lighting control. Hoping for the best, he punched the switch, then blinked as a bank of lights flickered on. The inside of the ship was in near pristine condition, and the mechanically minded young man scanned the old-fashioned switches and levers in awe. He was almost ashamed to desecrate the gleaming deck with his muddy boots.

His eyes roaming across the panels, Luke's breath caught when an identification plate caught his attention:

Shuttle C49G6ZWH

Property of the Royal House of Organa

Planet of Origin: Alderaan

Yoda had known Leia's family? And they had helped him escape to Dagobah?

Luke had never really considered the circumstances that brought his master to this desolate wasteland. Yoda had mentioned in passing that he'd been here nearly twenty-two years. Luke had just turned twenty-two. It couldn't be a coincidence. He knew that the Jedi of the Republic had been hunted down, many by Darth Vader, who had murdered Luke's own father. He knew even Force-strong children had been hunted and killed, which in retrospect explained why Uncle Owen had been so determined to keep Luke out of the Imperial Academy.

But was Master Yoda hiding out on Dagobah, afraid to face Vader or the Emperor? No, that couldn't be true. Luke couldn't conceive of Yoda, or Ben Kenobi, being afraid of anyone. One of the cardinal rules Yoda had been drumming into Luke's head was that fear leads to the dark side. So was it that Yoda didn't believe he could defeat the Sith? Maybe he'd even confronted one or both of them, and had lost.

Dropping into the single pilot's chair in the middle of the shuttle, Luke continued to let his imagination surge. So Ben was charged with watching over Luke, while Yoda escaped to Dagobah. But not to hide, exactly. To wait. Ben and Yoda were both waiting … waiting for Luke to grow up. But if they couldn't defeat the Emperor and Vader, how …

Luke rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Master Yoda and Ben thought that Luke could be powerful enough to succeed where they couldn't. They were placing their hope – the hope of the galaxy – in him.

Was it fair to place that much burden on his shoulders? Did they think that a desire to avenge his father's death would spur Luke to victory? Luke shook his head. No, that didn't seem right. Revenge being of the dark side was another lesson croaked into his ear while running through the jungle. So perhaps he was simply the only choice, the only Force-strong being left to train.

It didn't matter. The burden was his, and he would succeed. There could be no misgivings in his mind. Just as he'd failed to lift his X-wing because he had left room for doubt, he would fail against the Sith if he only tried. Luke looked around the silent shuttle. He'd raised it up because he knew he could.

He had to cling to that same faith in a much more important task. He had to. For Leia. For the Rebellion. For the galaxy.

He had to.

A shiver ran through Luke, and he realized how cold he'd become. He searched through the ship's storage compartments, but found no blankets or clothing. The tattered coverings Yoda had in his hut no doubt were salvaged from here. Luke considered making his way back to camp, but decided he was better off staying put until morning. At least he was dry, and safe from predators. Dimming the lights and curling up on the deck, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

~~~

Artoo-Detoo shined a spotlight into the dense jungle, whimpering a plaintive moan.

"Worry, you should not," Yoda consoled the little droid. "Safe, your master is." His bulbous eyes blinking in the cool night air, the old Jedi hobbled into his tiny hut.

"We must have faith in him," an ethereal voice echoed from a corner of the room.

Yoda's wizened face crinkled in greeting to his old friend. "Faith, he must have, in himself."

"He will," Obi-Wan assured. "He must."

Yoda nodded in agreement. "He must."

~~~

When Luke awoke the next morning, it took him a moment to recall where he was. Stretching stiff muscles, he sat up and took one last long look around his sanctuary. He thought about prying off the Organa nameplate as a gift for Leia, then decided against it. He would leave the shuttle just as it was, with one major exception. It would no longer suffer the indignity of resting in a murky swamp.

Securing the hatch, Luke realized to his relief that he knew exactly which way to head to return to camp. His growling stomach reminded him that he hadn't had anything to eat since yesterday's lunch. Finding a grove of berries that he recognized as safe, he treated himself to a quick snack, then took off at a run.

A little over an hour later, Luke jogged into the clearing in front of Yoda's hut. Artoo squealed in obvious delight, but Master Yoda merely kept stirring the pot hanging on its tripod, the curling of one pointed ear his only acknowledgement of his student's return.

"Master Yoda, I'm sorry I disappeared last night," Luke apologized. He'd already decided on his run in that he wouldn't disclose his unusual discovery, or his successful Force effort. Bragging on one's own accomplishment couldn't possibly be an acceptable Jedi trait. He wouldn't put it past Yoda to know all about it anyway. "I was looking for some more of the new seasoning, and I lost track of time, and …"

Luke's excuses trailed off as Yoda thrust a bowl of grain porridge into his hand.

"For breakfast, time it is," Master Yoda muttered, filling a bowl for himself.

"But I accidentally dropped—"

"Eat," Yoda commanded, rapping Luke's leg with his ever-present gimer stick. "Strength, you will need. Much training today, you will have."

Luke gave up and tasted the stew. It was, once again, better than usual. "You found some more of the seasoning granules?"

"Lost, they were not." Yoda dug a spoon into his breakfast.

"But I dropped the whole pot in the bog," Luke protested. "There wasn't any more left in the hut."

Yoda raised one eyebrow. "Pot of white powder?" he asked.

"Yes. Your new seasoning. From the purple-husked plants."

A fit of laughing overtook the venerable master Jedi. "Seasoning, that was not. Medicine, to soak my feet in, it was."

"What?" Luke's sudden panic that he almost seasoned last night's dinner with foot powder soon gave way to new questions. "But where is your new seasoning? What does it look like? I didn't see anything else in the kitchen."

Setting his bowl down, Yoda shuffled toward his hut, and Luke wasted no time following. Going straight to an alcove in the sleeping chamber, Yoda pulled out Luke's survival pack from the X-wing. Opening the small box of ration bars and other foodstuffs, he plucked out a packet of pala-salt.

Luke's jaw dropped, both in surprise and irritation. "You stole— I mean, of course you can use …" He narrowed his eyes. "You told me you found the seasoning on Dagobah!"

Yoda waved a hand through the air. "On Dagobah, this is."

"But you told me when I got here that we only eat what the planet provides," Luke continued to protest.

"You, the planet caught. Pala-salt, you then provided," Yoda rationalized. "Makes use of all resources, a Jedi does."

Luke shook his head, giving up. If only he'd known these fractured rules, he could've been having tastier meals all along. And he wouldn't have gotten lost in the jungle looking for … foot powder, of all things. He walked back outside, where Yoda was already resuming breakfast. But then, if not for last night's venture, he wouldn't have found the old shuttle. Or his new determination to train as hard and as fast as he could.

Gulping down the rest of his breakfast, Luke quickly gathered the empty bowls and pot. "What's on the training schedule today, Master?" he asked. "I'm ready for anything."

THE END