A/N: Actually this was meant to go in the next chapter, but I had missed including this in there. I noticed it only after long, and editing there would delete the comments, so I made a new chapter instead.
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By the time he opened his eyes, his back was already complaining. A low, stubborn ache thudded along his spine, punishment for spending the night slumped against a cave wall. He'd actually fallen asleep. Properly asleep, right in the middle of trying to commune with the Force.
A decade of hiding had clearly done more than dull his connection to it. It had also made his body forget every ounce of discipline it once had. Master Yoda would've smacked him across the knuckles for something like that.
Then again, a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his own muttered that Master Yoda never had to deal with Tatooine sand in places no sentient being should have sand.
He was just about to stretch out his spine when a noise cut through the quiet. It was the coughing, sputtering whine of a repulsorcraft engine, the kind that sounded like it was choking on sand and losing. The poor thing was having a worse morning than he was.
Instinct took over before thought did. His hand went straight to the blaster hidden under the thin mattress. His mind ran through the options. Imperials. Maybe they'd found the boy. Or maybe they'd tracked him here after that mistake in Mos Eisley. Or maybe the boy had been caught, and this was the team sent to clean up the mess.
He tried to tell himself he didn't care, but the thought of it sat wrong. Apparently, a decade alone hadn't been enough to scrub out all his bad habits.
The broken engine grew louder, dragging itself closer through the dunes. He gripped the blaster and moved to the mouth of the cave, pressing himself flat against the stone before peeking out.