The ship shuddered violently as another bolt of lightning split the sky, the blinding flash reflecting off the cockpit glass in jagged white streaks. Sebul jerked the controls instinctively, pulling the vessel sharply to port as the thunder rolled so loudly it felt like the sound was inside the hull rather than outside it. The rain hammered against the ship like thrown gravel, and the dense fog swallowed everything beyond a few meters.
"Stars above…" Sebul muttered, his webbed Rodian fingers tightening on the controls. "That's the third lightning storm we've flown through since entering this cursed atmosphere."
Another flash illuminated the endless swamps below — black water, twisted trees, and thick mist that seemed alive.
"And two entire fog belts before that," he added, exhaling sharply. "Kenobi, remind me again what we're doing on this nightmare of a planet? Because if this is sightseeing, I'm kicking you out of my ship."
Behind him, Obi-Wan Kenobi sat very still in the co-pilot seat, eyes half closed. His hood was drawn low, but even in the dim cockpit light Sebul could see the tension in his jaw.
"We are looking," Obi-Wan replied quietly, "for an old friend."
"That friend better appreciate the effort," Sebul said dryly. "Because Dagogah — or whatever name you call it — is trying very hard to kill us."
The ship lurched once more before finally emerging from the worst of the storm. The lightning faded behind them, though the fog remained thick and oppressive. The sky here never seemed fully bright, as if the sun itself struggled to penetrate the heavy clouds.
Sebul leaned back slightly, letting out a long breath.
"This planet is wrong," he said. "Fog, lightning, swamp gases… and my instruments are useless. Navigation sensors keep glitching. Even the Force readings are… scrambled."
Obi-Wan nodded slowly.
"That is why he chose it."
Sebul turned his head.
"Who?"
Obi-Wan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes fully and attempted once more to reach out through the Force. The effort was exhausting. The swamp seemed to swallow perception itself. Every attempt to sense life, energy, or even direction became muddled, as though the planet resisted awareness.
"It is difficult to explain," Obi-Wan said finally. "Dagobah is strong in the Force… but not in a way the Jedi usually prefer. It conceals. It distorts. It protects."
Sebul frowned.
"So we're searching for someone in a planet that actively hides things? That sounds like excellent planning."
A faint smile tugged at Obi-Wan's lips.
"Yes. It does complicate matters."
For several more hours they flew low over the endless marsh. Then Sebul suddenly leaned forward, adjusting the visual magnification.
"Hold on," he said. "There's something."
Through the thinning fog, a small structure appeared below — little more than a crooked hut perched on a rare patch of solid ground amid the swamp.
"That has to be it," Sebul said. "Unless someone here really enjoys terrible real estate."
Obi-Wan's expression softened instantly.
"Yes," he whispered. "That is it."
Sebul guided the ship down carefully. Landing here was no easy task. Much of the ground was unstable, a deceptive mix of mud, water, and tangled roots. He circled twice before spotting a slightly raised patch near the hut.
"I'm staying in the ship," Sebul said firmly. "If this place starts swallowing landing gear, someone has to keep us airborne."
"That is wise," Obi-Wan agreed.
The ramp lowered with a hydraulic hiss. Damp air flooded the interior immediately — warm, heavy, carrying the smell of moss and stagnant water.
Obi-Wan stepped down slowly.
The moment his boots touched the ground, something shifted.
The Force surged around him like a tidal wave.
And suddenly…
He wasn't on Dagobah anymore.
Heat.
Blinding heat.
Lava rivers glowing orange beneath a volcanic sky.
Mustafar.
The memory hit him with brutal clarity. Anakin stood across from him, eyes burning yellow, face twisted by rage and pain.
"You were my brother, Anakin!" Obi-Wan heard himself shout again, exactly as he had years before. "I loved you!"
The words echoed, overlapping with the present.
And then the duel replayed.
Lightsabers clashing. Sparks flying. The roar of lava. The desperation.
Obi-Wan staggered, dropping to one knee in the swamp mud as the vision intensified.
"I failed you…" he whispered hoarsely.
The image of Anakin — broken, burning, screaming in fury and betrayal — haunted him. That moment had never left him, but here on Dagobah it was amplified, unavoidable.
"I should have reached you," Obi-Wan said softly, tears slipping down his face. "I should have saved you."
Back in the cockpit, Sebul saw Obi-Wan collapse.
"Kenobi?" he called through the comm. "You alright out there?"
No response.
Sebul frowned but didn't leave the controls. The ground still looked treacherous, and lifting off quickly might become necessary.
Outside, Obi-Wan remained kneeling, breathing unevenly. The vision gradually faded, replaced once more by the murky swamp and dim light.
He wiped his eyes slowly.
Dagobah wasn't just hiding things.
It was confronting him with them.
Testing him.
A small ripple disturbed the swamp water nearby. Obi-Wan looked up sharply, sensing a presence — ancient, powerful, but familiar.
A faint smile returned.
"Master Yoda…" he said quietly. "I hoped you were still here."
From somewhere within the fog came a soft rustling sound, followed by the gentle splash of something moving through shallow water.
Sebul's voice crackled again over the communicator.
"Kenobi, if your friend turns out to be a swamp monster, I reserve the right to say I told you so."
Obi-Wan actually chuckled.
"Your caution is noted, Sebul."
The fog thickened briefly, and then a small, green figure emerged from the shadows, leaning on a gnarled walking stick.
Yoda's ears twitched slightly.
"Long time it has been… Obi-Wan," the old Jedi Master said.
Obi-Wan bowed his head deeply, relief flooding him.
"Yes, Master," he replied. "Far too long."
Sebul guided the ship down slowly, following Master Yoda's directions with extreme caution. The swamp world of Dagobah was treacherous — solid ground was rare, and what looked firm often turned into sucking mud the moment weight was applied.
Yoda stood outside, small but steady, pointing his stick toward a slightly raised mound covered in moss and twisted roots.
"There… land you should. Stable, the ground is there," Yoda instructed calmly.
Sebul adjusted the descent thrusters carefully. The landing struts touched down with a soft hiss, and for a tense second nothing happened. Then the ship settled fully without sinking.
Sebul let out a relieved breath.
"Finally," he muttered. "If this place swallowed the ship, Harry would never forgive me."
He powered down the engines and stretched his arms above his head.
"After flying through lightning storms, fog banks, and Force-scrambling swamps, I definitely need to stretch my legs."
Obi-Wan smiled faintly. He understood the feeling. Dagobah had a way of draining even experienced Force users.
The air was thick and humid, carrying the scent of wet soil, algae, and decaying vegetation. Strange insects buzzed lazily around them, and the distant croak of unseen creatures echoed through the mist.
Ahead stood Yoda's hut.
Or what passed for a hut.
Sebul tilted his head as he studied it.
"Is it just me," he said slowly, "or does that thing look like a bog monster?"
From a distance, the hut really did resemble a creature. The rounded front curved outward like an open mouth, and the tangled tree roots crawling over its surface gave the impression of veins or claws gripping the structure. Moss hung down like unkempt hair, and the whole thing blended so naturally into the swamp that one might easily mistake it for part of the landscape.
"Camouflage," Obi-Wan said softly. "Intentional, I suspect."
Yoda only chuckled.
"Hide well it does. Seen by those who should not see, rarely."
As they approached, the strange illusion grew even stronger. The doorway, dark and low, truly looked like a gaping maw. Sebul hesitated briefly before ducking inside.
"Well," he said, "if this hut eats us, at least we'll know why."
Inside, the space was cramped.
Very cramped.
Obi-Wan immediately had to bend slightly just to stand. The ceiling was low, the furniture simple, and the walls curved inward in a way that made the room feel even smaller.
He tried to settle cross-legged on one of the floor cushions but shifted uncomfortably.
"I didn't know how… compact your home is, Master," Obi-Wan admitted.
Yoda's eyes twinkled.
"Size matters not, hmm?"
Sebul, on the other hand, looked perfectly comfortable. Being shorter than most humans — though still taller than Yoda — he found the hut cozy rather than restrictive.
"This is actually nice," he said.
A small cooking fire flickered in the center, and the smell of roasting fish soon filled the hut. Yoda had apparently caught them from the bog just outside.
"Food first," Yoda said simply, handing them each a piece of freshly cooked fish.
Sebul took a bite.
And instantly spat it out.
"By the stars—!" he coughed, grabbing a cup of water. "That's… that's… wow."
Obi-Wan wasn't much better. He managed to swallow his first bite, but his expression tightened noticeably.
Both of them had grown accustomed to Winky's cooking — rich stews, perfectly seasoned breads, carefully balanced flavors. Compared to that, this swamp fish was… primitive.
Sebul wiped his mouth.
"Sorry, Master Yoda. No offense," he said quickly. "I just… I forgot what survival food tastes like."
Yoda shrugged serenely.
"Hungry enough, tasty it becomes."
Sebul laughed awkwardly, then forced himself to try again. This time he kept the bite down, though his face clearly protested.
"You're right," he admitted. "We still have supplies on the ship, but wasting them would be foolish. Out here, you eat what the world gives you."
Obi-Wan nodded slowly, continuing to eat despite the taste. Discipline returned quickly once necessity was acknowledged.
Yoda, meanwhile, seemed perfectly content. He ate with calm enjoyment, completely unbothered.
"Delicacies you speak of," Yoda said after a moment, glancing at Sebul. "Better cooking, hmm?"
Sebul brightened slightly.
"Oh, you have no idea. Our friend Winky cooks food that could make the emperor cry. When you taste it, Master Yoda, you'll understand what real delicacies are."
Yoda chuckled.
"Perhaps… one day."
After the simple meal, Yoda turned serious.
"Now tell me… why come you have, Obi-Wan? Expected you I did not. Guarding the boy, your task was."
Obi-Wan exhaled slowly. This was the difficult part.
"Things have changed, Master. There is… someone new. A powerful Force-sensitive named Harry Potter. He saved Luke from Imperial Inquisitors and has begun training him."
Yoda's ears twitched.
"Harry Potter… strong in the Force, he is?"
"Very," Obi-Wan replied. "But he approaches the Force differently. Not purely Jedi. Not purely Sith either. Something… broader."
Sebul added quietly, "He combines Force techniques with what he calls magic. And honestly, some of it is extraordinary."
Yoda closed his eyes briefly, sensing.
"Unusual… but wrong, not necessarily," he murmured.
Obi-Wan continued.
"We want to rebuild the Jedi Order. A better one. One that learns from past mistakes. Luke is already training, and others may follow. We need guidance, Master. Your guidance."
Silence filled the hut for several seconds.
Then Yoda's eyes opened, brighter than before.
"New Jedi Order… hmm. So soon, I expected not. Hope, this brings."
A distant rumble of thunder echoed outside, as if on cue.
Yoda tilted his head.
"Storm coming… powerful one. Leave soon, you should not."
Sebul groaned.
"Of course. Lightning storms everywhere we go lately."
"Stay here until it passes, you can," Yoda said calmly. "Fish, gather food, prepare. Safe enough, this place is."
Obi-Wan nodded.
"That may be wise. Rushing into hyperspace during a storm could damage the ship."
Sebul reluctantly agreed.
"Fine. Temporary fishing vacation, then. But once the storm clears, we leave."
Yoda smiled.
"Patience… useful skill, that is."
Harry Potter walked steadily along the crumbling stone pathway that cut through the ancient ruins of Bogano. Time had worn these structures down into haunting shapes — broken arches swallowed by creeping vines, cracked pillars leaning at impossible angles, and faded carvings hinting at a civilization long vanished.
Close behind him trailed Luke Skywalker.
The boy was only seven, small for his age, wrapped in a loose cloak to keep the chill off, and clutching a plasma blaster far too big for his hands. The weapon had once belonged to a Sith trooper Harry had killed a month ago. Luke held it nervously, fingers tight, eyes constantly scanning the shadows.
"Harry…" Luke said quietly, voice unsure. "Are you absolutely certain this is a good idea? Going after something that big?"
Harry stopped walking and turned, giving the boy a patient look.
"Luke," he said gently, "we've tried the bog rats already. You remember how that turned out."
Luke made a face immediately.
"They tasted awful," he muttered. "Like mud mixed with old boots."
Harry laughed softly.
"Exactly. And Winky is absolutely convinced those Ogodo frogs aren't edible either. She tested every cooking method she knew, nothing worked."
Luke nodded. Winky rarely made mistakes when it came to food.
"So," Harry continued, gesturing toward the distant marshlands, "our only realistic source of meat here is the Binog."
Luke swallowed.
The creature they were hunting wasn't exactly comforting to think about. From what Harry had glimpsed during scouting flights — a Binog looked like a cross between a massive fish and a scaled reptile. Long body, thick hide, wide jaw, and easily large enough to feed their entire group for months if properly preserved.
"Just one," Harry said. "That's all we need. They're huge. If we manage to take down a single Binog, we'll have meat stored for a long time."
Luke shifted the blaster in his hands.
"And if it takes us down instead?"
Harry grinned.
"Then we'll learn something very valuable."
Luke groaned.
"That doesn't make me feel better."
They resumed walking. The ruins gradually gave way to marshland — soft earth, shallow pools, strange plants glowing faintly in the dim light filtering through Bogano's thick cloud cover.
Suddenly something darted from the bushes.
A bog rat.
Ugly, aggressive little creatures native to the planet. They had oversized teeth, muddy fur, and absolutely no survival instinct. If it moved, they attacked.
Luke reacted instantly.
He raised the plasma blaster — just as Harry had drilled into him — feet apart, elbows steady, breath controlled.
Two quick shots.
Zap. Zap.
The bograt dropped before it even got close.
Harry nodded approvingly.
Luke lowered the weapon, still tense.
"They don't scare me anymore," he admitted. "Just annoy me."
"That's progress."
Another rustle nearby. A second bograt burst from the reeds. Luke fired again, cleaner this time. It collapsed mid-leap.
Harry smiled slightly.
"Your aim's improving fast."
Luke shrugged but looked secretly pleased.
The boy's training had been intense — unconventional by Jedi standards, certainly. Harry believed fear had to be faced directly. Training only in safe conditions created hesitation when real danger appeared.
Luke remembered that first lesson vividly.
Harry had once taken him to a swamp area swarming with gigantic mosquito-like creatures — the size of a person's head, wings buzzing like small engines. Luke hadn't even known what mosquitoes were until Harry explained Earth insects to him.
"Kill them," Harry had said calmly, handing Luke two blasters. "I'll watch."
Luke had nearly panicked.
But he fought.
And won.
Afterward, Harry simply said:
"You don't conquer fear by avoiding it. You conquer it by walking straight through it."
Luke hadn't forgotten.
Still… Binogs were another level entirely.
They walked in silence for several minutes before Luke spoke again.
"Harry… I get why we need food. And I trust you. Mostly. But a Binog is huge?"
Harry's expression softened slightly.
"We're not here to kill recklessly. Just to survive responsibly."
Luke nodded slowly.
"Still don't want to eat bog rat again though."
"Neither do I," Harry laughed.
A deep rumble echoed somewhere ahead — water shifting, something large moving.
Both froze.
Harry's posture changed instantly — relaxed curiosity replaced by focused alertness.
"That," he said quietly, "sounds promising."
Luke tightened his grip on the blaster.
"Promising for dinner," he muttered, "or promising for getting eaten?"
Harry flashed him a reassuring grin.
"Let's find out together."
They moved forward carefully now, stepping through reeds and shallow water, every sense alert.
Luke's heart pounded, but he didn't freeze.
Because Harry had taught him something important:
Fear wasn't weakness.
Ignoring it was.
Author's Note:
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