by Troy Denning
“So we remove Raynar, and they unlearn the behavior?” Kenth asked.
“Exactly,” Jacen said. “Raynar’s ability to project his will through the Force is what binds the individual nests into the Colony. If we remove that, the nests will need to survive on their own.”
“The nests will either return to their normal state or starve,” Kenth said. “Either way, the problem takes care of itself.”
“Not exactly,” Corran said. “You’re forgetting the Dark Nest. By all accounts, they’re already running the Colony from behind the scenes. If we take out Raynar, what’s to prevent Lomi Plo from taking over?”
“We have to take her and Alema Rar out, too,” Jacen said. “I’m sorry, I thought that was a given.”
When no one objected, Luke asked, “So everyone agrees on that much, then? The Dark Nest must be destroyed.”
“Assuming we can,” Han muttered. “We’ve tried that before, remember?”
“We’ve learned a lot since then,” Jacen insisted. “This time, we’ll succeed.”
“I’m glad you’re so confident, Jacen,” Kyp said. “How about letting the rest of us in on the secret?”
“I already have,” Jacen said. “We’re going to eliminate Raynar and his nest, too.”
This drew a pair of snorts from Tesar and Lowbacca, but a warning glance from Luke was enough to silence the two Jedi Knights.
“Now I’m really lost,” Corran said. “If we have to destroy the Dark Nest anyway, why don’t we just stop there and reason with Raynar?”
“I wish we could,” Leia said. “But Raynar’s mind was shattered by the Flier’s crash, and the Killiks have a very fluid concept of truth. When you put those two things together, you can’t count on him to behave rationally. We only persuaded him to abandon Qoribu by convincing him that if he didn’t, all of the nests there would turn into Dark Nests.”
“That’s true, Mother,” Jacen said. “But the real problem is you can’t destroy the Dark Nest without killing Raynar. As long as there is an Unu, there will be a Gorog.”
“That’z zilly,” Tesar scoffed.
“Not at all.” Cilghal spoke in a soft voice that had a quieting effect on the whole argument. “I began to suspect the same thing myself when the Dark Nest reappeared in the Utegetu Nebula.”
Corran, Kenth, and even Luke looked stunned.
“Why?” Luke asked.
“Do you remember our discussion about the conscious and unconscious mind?” Cilghal replied.
Luke nodded. “I believe you put it this way: ‘Like the Force itself, every mind in the galaxy has two aspects.’ ”
“Very good, Master Skywalker,” Cilghal said. “The conscious mind embraces what we know of ourselves, and the unconscious contains the part that remains hidden.”
“I thought that was the subconscious mind,” Corran said.
“So did I, until Cilghal explained it,” Luke said. “The subconscious is a level of the mind between full awareness and unawareness. The unconscious remains fully hidden from the part of our minds that we know. Right, Cilghal?”
“You have an excellent memory, Master Skywalker,” she said.
“Wait a minute, Cilghal,” Kyp said. “You’re saying that Jacen is actually right? That even if the Dark Nest didn’t exist, the Colony would create one?”
“I am saying that Jacen’s theory fits what we have observed,” Cilghal replied. “To the extent that the Colony is a collective mind, it makes sense for it to create an unconscious. And you cannot destroy an unconscious mind without also destroying the conscious mind.”
Cilghal paused and swiveled one bulbous eye toward Tesar, Lowbacca, and Tahiri. “I am sorry, but if this theory is correct, it is simply impossible to destroy the Dark Nest without destroying the Colony. One accompanies the other.”
“Then Jacen’s theory is wrong!” Tesar rasped.
“That is always possible,” Cilghal admitted. “But it explains everything we have observed, and that makes it the best working theory we have.”
“So we kill one of our own?” Corran shook his head harshly. “I can’t believe that’s our best option. It goes against everything I feel as a Jedi. We’re not assassins, we don’t betray our own, and we don’t destroy entire civilizations.”
“Corran, we talked about that, too,” Leia reminded him. “It’s because Raynar is a Jedi that we must act. He’s become a threat to the galaxy, and it’s our responsibility to stop him.”
“I understand that he’s a threat,” Corran responded. “But if he’s as shattered as you say, we shouldn’t be trying to kill him—we should be trying to help him.”
“May the Force be with you on that!” Han scoffed. “You’ll need it. Raynar’s more powerful than Luke, and he doesn’t want your help.”
Luke cocked his brow at Han’s assessment of his relative strength, but looked more surprised than insulted and did not protest.
“Corran, think about what you’re asking,” Leia said. “Exactly how do you suggest we help Raynar? You know how difficult it is to hold a regular Jedi against his will, and Raynar’s resources are immensely more vast. I’m afraid we have to face the reality of the situation.”
“So you’re agreeing with Jacen?” Corran asked. “You think our only choice is to kill Raynar?”
The question struck Leia like a kick in the stomach. She had known Raynar since he had come to the Jedi academy on Yavin 4 as the haughty child-heir to the Bornaryn Shipping Empire, then watched him mature into the sincere young man who had volunteered to accompany Anakin on the ill-fated strike mission to Myrkr. The thought of actually sending Jedi against him made her lips tremble with sorrow. But she had seen for herself, when the Killik fleet attacked in the Murgo Choke, that he had no such qualms about assaulting his former friends.
Leia nodded sadly. “Yes, Corran,” she said. “I think Jacen is right. Our best option is to take out Raynar. In fact, it is our duty.”
Corran’s face reddened, and Leia knew the exchange was about to get rough.
“Our duty?” he demanded. “What about Jaina and Zekk?”
“What about them?” Han shot back.
“They’re Joiners, too,” Corran pointed out, still looking at Leia. “Will you be so eager to kill them when they take Raynar’s place?”
Luke raised a hand in an effort to restore calm, but the damage had already been done. The question had heated even Leia’s blood, and Han immediately went into full boil.
“They’re not going to take Raynar’s place!” Han shouted.
“You can’t know that,” Corran replied. “Jaina has always done as she pleases, and now she’s with the Colony.” He turned back to Leia. “So I want to know: will you say the same thing when we have to go after Jaina and Zekk?”
“That’s a baseless question, and you know it!” Leia said.
“Not really,” Kyle Katarn said. “I, for one, would find your answer relevant to Raynar’s case.”
“Huttwash!” Kyp protested. “Jaina and Zekk have already demonstrated that they’re Jedi first. It’s not relevant at all.”
“Then why aren’t they here?” Kyle pressed.
“Probably because they’re trying to stop a war,” Han retorted.
And they were off, voices rising, tempers flaring, gestures growing increasingly sharp. Corran continued to press the Solos about what they would do if Jaina and Zekk were running the Colony instead of Raynar. Han and Leia continued to insist it was a moot question, and Kyle, Kyp, and the rest of the Masters continued to line up on both sides of the issue, taking increasingly rigid positions.
Within minutes, it grew apparent that they had reached an impasse, and Leia sensed her brother’s frustration building. His attempt to unite the Masters had failed miserably. They were no closer to reaching a consensus now than they had been while he and Han were trapped in the Utegetu, and even Leia could see the situation was only going to grow worse.
“Thank you.”
Though Luke spoke so
ftly, he used the Force to project his words into the minds of everyone present. The effect was immediate; the argument came to a sudden halt, and the entire group turned to face him.
“Thank you for your opinions.” Luke stepped back onto the dais. “I’ll consider them all carefully and let you know what I decide.”
Kyp frowned. “What you decide?”
“Yes, Kyp,” Mara said. She stepped toward him and locked eyes with him. “What Luke decides. Don’t you think that’s best?”
Kyp’s brow rose, then he looked around him at the faces of the other Masters—many still flushed with the emotions of their argument—and slowly seemed to realize what Leia already had: Luke was taking control of the order.
Before Kyp found the breath to answer, Han turned and started up the aisle toward the exit, his boot heels clunking on the wood floor. Leia started after him, almost running to catch up. Luke seemed content to watch them go in silence, but not Saba.
“Jedi Solo, where are you going?” the Barabel demanded.
“With Han,” Leia replied. “To get our daughter back.”
“What about the order?” Saba asked.
Leia did not even turn around. “What order?”
THREE
The Yuuzhan Vong’s attempt to reshape Coruscant into the image of their lost homeworld had brought many good things to the planet, and fresh y’luubi was one of the best. Taken from Liberation Lake no more than three hours before smoldering, it had a rich, smoky flavor that filled Mara’s entire head with pleasure. She held the spongy meat on her tongue, allowing it to dissolve as she had heard was proper, and marveled at the succession of spectacular tastes. The flavor went from smoky to sweet to tangy, then ended with a sharp, spicy bite that made her mouth water for more.
“The y’luubi are unbelievably wonderful, Madame Thul,” Mara said, addressing their host. She and Luke had barely been back on Coruscant for a week before Madame Thul arrived aboard the Tradewyn and sent a message to the Jedi Temple inviting them to dine with her.
“The whole meal is,” Luke added. “Thank you again for insisting that we meet here.”
Aryn Thul—Raynar Thul’s mother and the chairwoman of the board of Bornaryn Trading—smiled politely. “I’m so pleased you’re enjoying it.” A gaunt, almost frail woman with gray hair and durasteel eyes, she carried herself with a dignity and grace appropriate to the shimmersilk gown and Corusca gem necklace she had chosen for their “casual” dinner. “I was told Yuza Bre is the finest restaurant on Coruscant.”
“By all accounts,” Mara said. “I understand reservations are usually required months in advance. I can’t imagine why it’s deserted tonight.”
“You can’t?” Tyko Thul asked. A large, round-faced man with short graying hair and hazel eyes, he was the brother of Madame Thul’s late husband—and the chief operating officer of Bornaryn Trading. He turned to Madame Thul and shared an arrogant smile. “It appears the Jedi are not quite as all-knowing as we are led to believe.”
“We shouldn’t judge that on the basis of a restaurant, Tyko. I doubt corporate acquisitions are very high on their list of concerns.” Madame Thul turned to Mara. “As of this morning, the Yuza Bre is a Bornaryn property. Buying it was the only way to guarantee our visit would remain private.”
“Buying a restaurant was hardly necessary, Madame Thul,” Luke said in a guarded tone. “If there’s something you need to discuss in private, I would have been happy to meet you aboard the Tradewyn.”
Given the argument among the Masters over whether to eliminate Raynar, both Mara and Luke had found the timing of Madame Thul’s dinner invitation suspicious. But Luke had been a friend of the Thuls since Raynar attended the Jedi academy on Yavin 4, and Mara had convinced him that if Madame Thul knew about the argument, declining the invitation would be viewed as evidence that he agreed with those who felt the only way to resolve the Killik crisis was to kill her son.
Madame Thul frowned. “Luke, we have been friends since before Bornan died.” Her tone remained nonchalant, but Mara could sense her anger—and her fear—in the Force. “Surely, you know me well enough to realize that if I wish to discuss something with you, I will.”
“Does that mean you don’t wish to discuss anything?” Luke asked.
“It means that you aren’t the primary reason I bought Yuza Bre.” Madame Thul allowed herself a guilty smile. “This happens to be Chief Omas’s favorite restaurant. As you can imagine, from now on, he is going to find it difficult to make reservations.”
“That seems rather petty,” Mara said. Madame Thul struck her as a woman who appreciated frankness, so she spoke bluntly. “And it’s hardly likely to sway his attitude regarding the Colony.”
Madame Thul shrugged, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “I have been trying to be heard on this for months, but that Jenet assistant of his refuses to schedule an appointment. This seems as good a way as any to make my displeasure known.”
“I’m sure it will accomplish that,” Mara said. “But if feeding y’luubi to the Skywalker family is how you show displeasure with the Jedi, I’m sorry to inform you it isn’t working.”
She smiled, expecting Madame Thul to do likewise and utter at least a polite little laugh. Instead, the chairwoman fixed her with a steely-eyed glare.
“I really don’t understand, Mara.” She turned to Luke. “Is there some reason I should be displeased with the Jedi?”
“That isn’t for us to say,” Luke answered. “You’re certainly aware of the Jedi’s role in the recent trouble between the Colony and the Alliance.”
“Of course,” Madame Thul said. “You were crucial in keeping the nest ships trapped inside the Utegetu Nebula.”
“So the answer to your question depends on you, Chairwoman Thul,” Mara said. “Where do your loyalties lie?”
It was Tyko Thul who answered. “Our loyalties lie where they always have—with Bornaryn Trading. We have outlasted three galactic governments…and we’ll outlast this one.”
“What about family?” Luke asked, addressing the question to Madame Thul. “I’m sure your loyalties also extend to Raynar.”
“Our interests in the Colony are very important to us, yes.” Madame Thul’s voice grew icy. “Obviously, Bornaryn will do whatever we must to protect them—and at the moment, we are well positioned to be extremely effective.”
“For example, Bornaryn has diversified into exotic starship fuels,” Tyko added. “Just yesterday, we acquired Xtib.”
A tense silence fell over the table. Xtib was the processing company that produced TibannaX, the special Tibanna isotope used in StealthX engines to conceal their ion tails.
After a moment, Mara raised her eyes and locked gazes with Tyko. “I hope you don’t intend that as a threat, Chief Thul. We’re a little short on patience these days.”
“Is there a reason Bornaryn would need to threaten the Jedi?” Tyko asked, refusing to be intimidated.
“You’re obviously aware of our discussions regarding Raynar,” Luke said, rising. “Rest assured that the Jedi would never take such an action lightly, but we will do what we must to bring this war to a swift end.”
“Thank you for your frankness, Master Skywalker.” Some of the stateliness seemed to drain from Madame Thul’s bearing, and she motioned for him to return to his chair. “I don’t know why, but I do take some small comfort from the reluctance in your voice. Please stay and finish your dinner.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible,” Luke said.
“But we would like to know how you came by your information,” Mara added, also rising. Her stomach was knotting in anger, though not because of any threat Bornaryn Trading might pose to the Jedi’s TibannaX supplies. Someone—almost certainly a Jedi—had betrayed the confidence of Luke and the order. “Who told you?”
Madame Thul lifted her brow. “You truly expect me to reveal that?”
“You really don’t have a choice,” Mara said.
“This is outrageous!” Tyko sn
apped.
He started to rise, but Mara flicked a finger in his direction, and he dropped back into his chair, paralyzed by her Force grasp. Gundar, the thick-necked bodyguard who had been doubling as their waiter, reached for his blaster and started to leave his station near the kitchen.
Luke wagged a finger at the hulking human, then used the Force to pin him against a wall and looked to Madame Thul.
“I take security breaches very seriously,” he said. “Don’t make me use the Force on you.”
Madame Thul sighed, then looked away. “You mustn’t be too hard on them,” she said. “They were convinced they were doing the right thing.”
“They always are,” Mara said. “Who was it?”
“The Barabel and his Wookiee,” Madame Thul said. “Tesar and…Lowbacca it was, I believe.”
Mara could sense Madame Thul’s truthfulness in the Force, but she still found it difficult to believe—if only because it proved just how deeply divided the order remained even after Luke’s gambit.
“It makes sense.” Luke sounded as defeated as Mara was shocked. “I had just hoped for better.”
“If you are disappointed, perhaps you should look to yourself for the reason,” Madame Thul suggested. “Tesar and the Wookiee have good hearts, Master Skywalker. They would not betray your confidence unless they believed they had no other choice.”
“Or unless they were under the Colony’s control,” Mara said. She turned toward the restaurant’s transparisteel wall and looked across the green glow of Victory Square, toward the golden sheen of the Jedi Temple’s giant pyramid. “They were back among the Killiks for more than a month.”
Luke’s concern—or perhaps it was sorrow—permeated the Force-bond Mara shared with him, but he retained a neutral expression as he spoke to Madame Thul.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” he said. “The y’luubi was beyond description. I’m sure the Yuza Bre will continue to prosper under Bornaryn’s ownership.”
“You really must leave?” Madame Thul asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Luke said. “Until the troubles with the Colony are resolved, it’s probably better for Bornaryn Trading and the Jedi to keep their distance.”
