Oh, but I find it more than personally satisfying when one's suspicions are justified... even if that justification did nothing more in the long and the short of it than prove a sudden brainstorm true....

I wiped my grimy hands against the smooth leather of my Sith flightsuit, straightening up and putting a hand up against my eyes to block the brilliant sun which, though setting, was still managing to shine directly into my eyes. Beside me I heard the most astoundingly quiet shuffle of feet against rock; this quieted further as the rising sensation that I had company caught my attention.

No surprise, actually, to find that I did. I turned to look at the Kaminoan who now was standing next to me, peering out with those large and shining of eyes he bore with an intensity to rival that of the lowering sun's rays. But if those immense eyes managed to bring him any other information than mine had already brought to me, he didn't say anything of it. He just let out a small noncommittal noise, brushed his hands delicately together, and grew still. Those eyes of his now bore down on me as if to say, well, I got us this far. Where do we go from here?

I let out a sigh of my own, unconsciously mimicking his gesture by brushing my own palms together. Bits and pieces of rock and sand grains cascaded from them, while the sweat which dripped onto my hands from my brow mingled with the grime of generally blasted rock to form a thin sheen of gook there. The mere thought sent my gaze flicking to the outline of the device the scientist wore so casually beneath his robes; the mere memory of how that thing got us out of where we were to where we now found ourselves sent a little judder through me.

Gads, and I thought these Kaminoans were peaceful, research-oriented types....

I shook that from me, took another look around, now letting my senses expand outward to take in all they could. Around us, rock and sand and a strangely ancient, moaning wind. The dying rays of the sun hit us with the intensity of a blast furnace, which told me that being up and about during high noon would probably not be in our best interests. Other than the sighing wind, there was nothing to break the ominous silence but the occasional skirl of sand against stone, and the gritty crunch as the Kaminoan moved a foot a bit from it's original stance.

That and a distant low, snarling growl I couldn't quite place, but which somehow sounded very familiar.

I sighed again, and put my hands on my hips. Jerked my eyes to the scientist.

"Well," I opened with a casual air which belied my inner and exponentially growing trepidations.

"I haven't a clue where this is. Looks pretty barren; all I can suggest is that we figure out a direction which would be the best one to travel in and well... just go. Maybe we'll get lucky and hit civilization somewhere...."

Or water. Gads, we had to find water. Logic said there was water here, for hadn't it been dribbling down the wall of my cell?

That little thought cheered me immensely and I gave a definitive nod. Then without waiting for the scientist to determine which direction we should take off into I just stepped out, trying to lighten up and stay cheery, even though I couldn't erase from my thoughts the dread that all the water within reasonable hiking distance would be underground in the rock.

I sighed, but kept doggedly onward, moving across the dusty terrain in a steady marching pace, shoulder hunched and head bent a bit down so as to let momentum take the greatest advantage and keep me going in a manner less tiresome.

Physically tiresome, I should say.

The soft rattle of stone against stone assured me that my Kaminoan pal was still on my heels. I shook my head to myself, wondering at this.

So the nek can change its spots after all, ey? I muse, thinking about this. With the Kaminoan's long legs it would have taken him but two steps to catch up with my lead, one more to take it, and not to many more to accelerate ahead of me at a pace I would find daunting to maintain. Yet he persisted in taking what amounted to baby steps for him, and not only that, remained behind me instead of travelling at my side, like a companion would.

I didn't much like the implications in that, but oh well. There really wasn't much I could do about it anyway, and I didn't want to annoy him to where he might indeed change his mind and take off on his own. Already he had come in handy, using that inherent ability all scientists bear of deductive reasoning to find us water.

Maybe he's a geologist.... I thought, smiling briefly at the incongruity of the thought to the actuality of Kamino. What on earth would a water world be doing with a geologist...?

I was pulled from my thoughts as a cool, long-fingered hand touched my shoulder. The other was pointing off ahead of us to where a brilliant glint promised yet another body of water. I let a gust of breath escape me; having no means of carrying water with us, finding it on a daily basis was of dire importance. I grinned as I stared down at the small lake toward which the scientist pointed, laying there in a large natural depression, its shores quiet and rimmed with white.

Then I was running down the slope, leaving the scientist yet standing upon the apex of the small foothill-type of geomorpholical feature we had been standing upon, gaining the lowest point separating that one from another, smaller, one. A short but strenuous hike, my steps slowed by the steepness this side bore, and I soon topped a rise and stopped.

It lay below me, shining diamond bright, promising life in the otherwise deathly terrain all around us.

I licked my parched lips as best I could, and raced down the final slope toward this life's offering. Soon my feet were crunching across the whiteness that framed the lake's shores; I ignored that and plunged onward, plunged into the waters, plunged my face into them as I let my body fall.

Came up spluttering and spitting and grimacing.

Salt water. Great Khaandon's Ghost, but this was salt water!

But I was so thirsty. It would only take a small bit to quench that thirst, to revive me to where I could go on and maybe find good, fresh water elsewhere….

The Kaminoan, bless his coldly logical lil ol heart, kept me alive. He had read my intentions; how, I couldn’t imagine, but those large eyes of his saw everything. Straight into my brain, he must have looked, carried there by the stance of my body and the language it was crying out. Maybe I had reached for that lake; whatever alert I had given was really inconsequential, I suppose, but the fact remained that suddenly I had found myself being dragged bodily away from that illusory shore, large shining eyes staring sternly down upon me.

“That is not safe to drink, Galen,” he had said then, before simply falling silent and leading me back up the steep slope away from the lake which had no outlet. I guess I had nodded then, stumbling there alongside of him and forcing myself onward though the specter of death by dehydration loomed larger and larger with every passing moment. Then again, such things are truly relative; to tell the truth I can’t recall him appearing worried in the slightest at that point in time. I remember he paused for a moment, cocking his head and looking down at me once again before suddenly stooping and picking me up bodily.

The next thing I was aware of was that my eyes must have closed, for suddenly I was opening them to the sight of something dusty green.

Green? How refreshing….

I blinked gooey eyes and tried another look. Yup, there was something green laying there at an odd 45 degree angle to my line of sight. It took another moment before I realized that I was laying down, that sand and rock was pressing insistent little sharp-edged fingers into my cheek, and that the green blurry thing I was staring at was a scrubby plant of some kind. I groaned and licked my lips as best as I could, then my attention was captured by a strangely gentle susurration. It had been too much of an effort to actually turn my head, but by straining a bit I could capture the source of that sound in my peripheral vision.

The Kaminoan scientist was down on his knees, his white robe besmirched and raggedy. He was digging into the sand for all he was worth, kicking bursts of it behind him like a nek burying a favorite bone. I recall thinking that this was not where I had planned to be buried, let alone die, when he sat back, turned an intent look my way, then cupped his three-fingered hand and pressed the back of it down into the depression he had made. He raised it carefully, and pressed it to his lips.

The next thing I knew was that I had somehow been transported to that depression to find my face plunged into a very tiny pool of water. It wasn’t very deep, it was gritty and dirty and tasted like rock.

It was wonderful.

After a length of time, time in which I must have dozed off, the scientist came up to me and sat down by my side. He held out a small white thing and nodded.

“The green plant has a root which is edible. While perhaps not as suitable to your palate as other foods, it is at least nourishing. Galen, you must eat of this, as have I. We must regain our strength.”

The root did not exceed his analysis, nor my ensuing expectations. But though it was tough and stringy and tasted like dewback droppings, it did hold a bit of moisture in its flesh and went a long way towards finally reviving me. I don’t know how many I devoured, alternating once or twice with some sort of insect he would place into my hand after a brief hiatus from my side, but finally I found myself feeling, well….

Something like my old self once again.

I remember looking up into the scientist’s eyes at that point, my face suddenly hot and stinging, my chest tightening. I hadn't cried though; my body couldn’t afford so frivolous a use of precious water. I merely nodded to him in thanks before joining him in digging up as many of the stringy roots that we could find. If we couldn’t carry water with us, this would have to do.

It hadn’t taken long before the ground was bereft of all it could offer us. We had camped there then, partaking of as much water as we could dig down to, resting and restoring our strength before finally feeling fit enough to continue upon our journey. We had chatted a bit, and he had finally broken down and introduced himself as Rhua Ki. I smiled at that; suddenly he seemed a bit more than merely a travelling companion to me.

And that is what brought us to our present location, here upon the lip of this great and apparently unassailable canyon which stretched out into hazy obscurity before us.

Before my eyes there exploded layer upon layer of rock, exposed by the artistry of erosion, their edges fringed by lacy frills and undulations brought on by the rush of falling water. Reds and mauves and deep, greeny-black was offset by pale grays and the creamiest of white; beside me, Rhua Ki stood in silent appreciation, although I wasn’t fooled in the slightest.

A part of him wanted to go down amidst that great splendor as badly as I suddenly wanted to.

I hadn’t a clue as to why I felt that sudden urge. Perhaps it was due to the rising wind behind us, wind which brought the sting of sand to the back of my head and any exposed flesh; this great and grand canyon would afford us respite from that. Perhaps it was simply due to a primal urge to dig deep, dig down, and by thus doing so hide away from those enemies who sought us.

Surely someone will be coming after us, the thought burst into my head. Surely our absence will be noted, and we shall be tracked… perhaps we are at this very moment.

A little shiver rippled through me, and I wrapped my arms about myself. The wind rose with a piercing whine, whipping my hair about my face. I raised an unconscious hand to capture those strands and tuck them behind my ears, and contemplated the glories of the canyon further.

Perhaps it was simply because it was so sheer, so awe-inspiring, to find such utter beauty hidden away amidst all this sere and stinging desolation.

Whatever the reason, I knew I could no more remain on the edge of this precipice than a womprat could single-handedly stand off a sand panther. I nodded, more to myself than to Rhua Ki, coming to a conclusion brought on by that which was spread out so enticingly before me.

“We have to go down there, you know,” I said simply. Then I began scouting around for a place where we might stand a ghost’s chance of actually descending all the way to the bottom of the mighty gorge.

Rhua Ki spoke up, surprisingly, albeit with a touch of hesitation.

“Do you think we should, Galen?”

My head jerked as I sent a sidelong glance toward him. He was standing there, that mirrored and haunting yearning in his eyes dimmed a bit as the logic within him rose up to the occasion.

“Well… it’s a good place to hide.”

“It could become a trap.”

“I don’t think so; it seems pretty large, and I’m sure there’s a stream there. Isn’t that what carves out these things?”

“It may be erosionally dead; we cannot see deep into its innermost depths.”

At that I turned and fully faced him. He stared at me with his large, limpid eyes, wide of stance and stoic of demeanor. He even went so far as to cross his arms in front of himself, trying to present a logical image with did nothing more than war with what I read in his eyes.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he finished with, blinking.

Now it was my turn to pause, my own doubt rising with the escalating wind. My hair flung itself away from my ears, and eluded every attempt of mine to restrain it once more.

Sheesh, what I’d give for my Sith helmet, came the incongruous thought. I pushed that away, gave up on my hair altogether, and jerked my head toward the canyon even while my other hand made an expansive gesture to take in the desert which surrounded us on all other sides.

“Look, we can’t stay here. There’s no food, no water, a storm is coming, there’s no shelter.” I stopped flatly with that, crossed my own arms, and returned his stoic stance.

He merely blinked his large eyes, then turned his head to regard our immediate surroundings. His long and slender neck seemed to wave as if assailed by the rising strength of the wind; the idle thought provoked by the undulating movements as he peered into one direction and then another, was replaced by the sudden certainty that I was correct. Strong though this scientist was, he was Kaminoan. Physically weak; if the wind rose high enough it could quite literally snap his neck.

I was about to point this out to him when he returned his focus upon me.

“Very well,” he said simply, although there was something of a sigh of resignation in his voice.

“Good,” I rejoined; then with no further ado turned and began tracing along the lip of the rim. At length I came to a place where stone loosened by erosion had slipped into a reposing slope.

“C’mon, I think we can begin here,” I called out as I gingerly began half-stepping, half-sliding down the loose scree and sand. Behind me I heard a real sigh, and it wasn’t the wind; this was replaced by the scrabble of stone. Then we spoke no more, but leant ourselves to the task of getting to a large and green plateau I saw some six kilometers out and below us.

It had been years since I had scrambled up and down the cliffs of my hometown, years that, although in their passing had been somewhat kind to me physically, still had left their toll upon my body.

Ok, so I’m not the spring chicken I used to be, I groused to myself as the third kilometer in our downward trek rose up to smack me in the face. Quite literally, in fact; an insidiously trailing tree-root of some kind had caught me unaware, bulging along the flea-speck of a trail we were scrambling down, and had sent me tumbling to the stone and dirt in an untidy heap.

I sat there a moment, grumbling at the Fates, and looked up at Rhua Ki. I’ll give the scientist credit; not only had he been keeping a steady and seemingly effortless pace, he now stood with hand extended toward me in an offer to assist me to my feet, nothing other than mild concern evident in his large, limpid eyes.

I snorted out a quick laugh, and grasping his proffered hand hauled myself upright. For a moment I just stood there, brushing myself off; then I straightened and looked out over the expanse of laughing kilometers yet remaining in front of us.

“I’ll keep a better eye on where I’m going, Rhua,” I said, turning to face him and letting his hand drop. “But really, we’re going to have to pick up the pace if we want to reach the lower gorge before night.”

He merely nodded in reply; then he dug into his tattered robes and produced some of the plant roots we had dug at our last camp. Nodding my thanks, I took a couple, surprised at how ravenously I devoured them.

Ok, ok… like I said, I’m no spring chicken any longer….

Then I straightened and blew out a determined breath.

“Let’s go.”

Onward we went, down and down, ever down, the trail nothing more than a laughing taunt at that, loose with scree here, and slippery with slickrock there. About us, layers of color proclaimed the history of this place; a little part of my brain took notice of this and marveled at the beauty we were being shown.

Dad would have loved this…

Again, down and down we went, heading out toward our targeted, distant plateau. There, after much sweating effort – for by now we had reached such depths that the adiabatic heating of the air had created an even hotter desert environment than that which existed up on the rim – we finally took a stand and looked down into the guts of this great gash in the earth.

I blinked, stared harder, blinked again.

For, strangely enough, there was nothing below us. And I do mean nothing. Instead of expected rock, a strangely sort of roiling non-ness nestled some 1200 meters below the point upon with we stood, seeming to consist of nothing other than sheer black.

I jerked back in instinctive fear of that non-ness, and sent a fast glance Rhua’s way. He was, after all the scientist in our little party.

“Wha--?” I began, but got no further. For he had frozen in place, his arms wrapped about himself, and was spilling out a terror which was as palpable to me as the cool winds slapping up-canyon against our faces.

Maybe it hasn’t spotted us yet, the thought came to my head before logic rose up to pooh-pooh it.

Galen Jhin’Dar Danner, don’t be ridiculous! It’s not alive…

Is it?

I turned back to Rhua Ki, only to find him heading back in the direction from which we had come, and as fast as he could manage over the rough terrain.

“Hey!” I hollered, heading after him. “Wait just a minute there! What’s the problem? Do you know about that black stuff down there? What is it? Why do you recognize it?”

Puffing, I managed to catch up with him and with a slight lunge reached out and grabbed him by his tattered lab coat. He came to a sliding stop, stones and dust flying about his feet, and whirled to face me.

“You must release me!” he said aloud, grabbing my wrist and yanking for all he was worth to remove my hand from it’s fierce grip. I grunted, and only dug my fingers in deeper.

“Not until you tell me what in Hell’s Seven Circles that is, and why you’re so hell-bent to get away from it!”

The scientist drew in a deep breath, visibly forcing himself to calm, and gripped my wrist even harder. For a moment or two more we remained in this strange impasse, he holding my wrist and refusing to speak, me digging in my feet and fingers and refusing to budge.

Then—

“Strange indeed, your choice of words, Galen,” he finally said, dropping one slender-fingered hand to wave behind him in the direction of that inner gorge.

“For indeed, if there is a Hell to exist at all, it would be there.”

My hand automatically slapped to my blaster… er, that is, to where my blaster would have been had I been wearing one.

“Damn!” I whispered into the sighing echoes left by the wind, and hunkered further, spreading my stance and balancing myself in preparation of springing…

Where? And toward what?

I blinked, and loosened up just the slightest. Beside me the Kaminoan scientist only bore a strange look of mingled terror and surprise upon his pale face. He tilted his head down toward me, questions evident in his eyes.

I sidled closer to him.

“Do you have the feeling that we’re being watched?” I asked from the side of my mouth, still searching every nook and crevice my eyes could find.

Nothing. Only the persistence of this great canyon, the moaning of the wind…