by Troy Denning
Luke, of course, had anticipated this, too. Lomi Plo had no power over him. He simply stepped inside her attack and flicked his wrist twice, first sweeping his blade upward, then whipping it around in a backslash, and she landed at his feet in four parts.
Luke stood looking down at the pieces for a moment, half expecting them to turn to smoke and vanish, or to dissolve like a bad HoloNet signal. It was hard to believe that a woman of mere flesh and blood and chitin had caused so much trouble—had brought the galaxy to the edge of eternal war—but of course, beings of flesh and blood were always starting wars. That’s why the galaxy needed her Jedi.
Luke reached down and retrieved the two lightsabers Lomi Plo had been wielding. He tucked the white one inside his flight utilities and hung the green one in its proper place on his belt, then returned to the side of his former student.
Raynar was still unconscious, but his vital signs were stable, and he did not seem to be in any great danger.
Luke broke out a medkit and started to work. “Let’s get you patched up, son,” he said. “We’re going home.”
EPILOGUE
The air had long since grown stale and the caf bitter, but the mood in the Megador’s cramped briefing room remained upbeat. Aristocra Formbi was more than two standard hours late for the long-distance conference, but no one was surprised. The Chiss had taken a battering even after the Alliance arrived, and the Jedi had prevented the deployment of their “secret weapon”—the insidious parasite bombs. Without a doubt, the Chiss were going to make their displeasure known, and Leia was just happy they were not doing it with megamasers.
Finally, Admiral Pellaeon’s comm officer announced that Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano had opened a channel. Formbi’s jowly blue face appeared on the giant vid display hanging at one end of the room. He did not bother introducing himself—or apologizing for his tardiness.
“The Ascendancy is ready to hear your peace offer,” Formbi said. “But I warn you, we are not interested in any proposal that fails to eliminate the Colony threat.”
“We understand that,” Leia said evenly. “And we have already done so.”
Formbi’s eyes grew suspicious. “Really.”
“As a matter of fact, yeah,” Han said. He pointed a thumb at Luke, whose arm remained in a sling from the injuries he had suffered aboard the Ackbar. “Luke killed Lomi Plo, and Raynar’s going back to the Galactic Alliance with us.”
Formbi’s face showed his alarm. “You’re taking Raynar Thul into Alliance space? I thought you had killed him!”
“We’ve neutralized him,” Luke said. “Raynar realizes that his continued presence can only bring more disasters like this one down on the Killiks.”
“Besides, we have him buttoned up tight in a special brain hood Cilghal designed,” Han said. “If he even thinks about a bug, he gets zapped with dazers.”
Formbi frowned. “The Ascendancy would feel more comfortable if he were dead.”
“He will be, if we find our measures are insufficient to keep him isolated until he recovers,” Luke said. “Rest assured, the Colony has been destroyed. The Jedi will do whatever is necessary to ensure that Raynar Thul never troubles you again.”
Formbi’s brow shot up, but he quickly caught himself and assumed a doubtful scowl. “What of the Twi’lek Jedi?” he demanded. “This Alema Rar? Isn’t she a Dark Nest Joiner?”
“She was,” Leia said. “As of now, she is presumed dead.”
Formbi’s scowl deepened. “We Chiss prefer certainties to presumptions, Princess.”
“As do we all,” Leia said. “But I’m afraid that’s impossible in this case. We were unable to locate her body, and I’m fairly certain that’s because she was eaten.”
Formbi was too shocked to feign disbelief. “By what?”
“Some sort of spider sloth,” Leia said. “I can’t actually name it. All I can tell you is that we were fighting on Tenupe when the creature attacked. I escaped and Alema didn’t. The creature disappeared into the jungle with her upper body in its mouth.”
“If that is what you Jedi mean by destroying the Colony, then I must inform you that your definitions are not acceptable to the Chiss,” Formbi said. “If she survived and returns to the Dark Nest, she could restart the entire Colony.”
“No, she couldn’t,” Luke said. “I assume you’ve been briefed on the nanotech environmental defense agents of the Utegetu Nebula?”
“Of course,” Formbi smirked.
“Then you’ll be reassured to know that as of our last report, Jedi teams have seeded more than half of the Colony’s planets with the appropriate nanotech agents,” Luke said. “Before we’re done, that number will be as close to a hundred percent as our knowledge of Colony territory can make it.”
“The Killiks won’t be able to reconstitute the Colony,” Leia said. “If they start to overpopulate, their own worlds will bring the nest down to a manageable level.”
“You might say it’s a failsafe,” Han said. “It worked like a charm on Woteba.”
“So you say,” Formbi replied. “But I doubt your guarantees will be satisfactory to the ruling houses.”
“They’re going to have to be, Aristocra.” Pellaeon spoke in a gruff, sharp voice that carried a subtle but definite threat. “The Galactic Alliance is ready to wash its hands of this matter, and our fleet will be returning to our own territory as soon as possible.”
“You’ll find no argument from us,” Formbi said. “The Ascendancy never wanted you involved in the first place.”
Pellaeon’s voice grew even more steely. “Perhaps, but we need to deal with current realities. The war is over as of now, Aristocra. The Killiks have no reason to restart it, and very soon they’ll lack the capacity to do so. Therefore, the Ascendancy has no reason to restart it, either.”
“We Chiss are accustomed to formulating our own policies,” Formbi sneered.
“We know that, Aristocra,” Leia said. “But you know that those policies affect your relations with the Alliance—and the Galactic Alliance is not in the habit of tolerating aggressors and warmongers. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact.”
“Take a lesson from the bugs and don’t hold a grudge,” Han added. “They went home a week ago. You do the same, and we’ll all be happy.”
“The Chiss are not interested in what makes you happy, Captain Solo,” Formbi fumed. He paused, swallowing a bit of his anger. “But we are beings who value peace above all else—and we are willing to take one more risk to achieve it.”
Leia breathed an inward sigh of relief, and Pellaeon smiled beneath his mustache. That was nearly the exact statement that Bwua’tu predicted the Chiss would make—just prior to naming their terms.
“We’re very glad to hear that, Aristocra,” Leia said.
“Don’t be,” Formbi growled. “You haven’t heard our terms.”
“I assume you’re prepared to remedy that situation,” Pellaeon said, perhaps a bit too smugly.
“Of course,” Formbi retorted. “The Chiss will agree to your terms, provided the Alliance will promise to come to our aid in the event of another unprovoked Killik attack.”
Pellaeon frowned, pretending to consider a request that everyone in the briefing room already knew he was going to grant.
After a suitable pause, he nodded. “Very well. Done.”
Formbi’s eyes widened just enough to betray his surprise. “You agree? Just like that?”
“Why shouldn’t we?” Pellaeon asked. “We’re the ones who are promising there will be no Killik attacks.”
Formbi frowned. “So you are,” he agreed. “But this is a formal treaty. Don’t you need authorization from Chief Omas?”
Pellaeon smiled broadly. “My dear Aristocra, I came with that authorization,” he said. “There is nothing the Galactic Alliance desires more than a close relationship with the Ascendancy. You’re welcome to send a team of diplomats back with the fleet when we leave, if you’d like to get started on the formal documents.”<
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Formbi looked vaguely uncomfortable, like a sabacc player who just realized he should have called a bluff. “I’m afraid that will have to wait. We didn’t bring any diplomats along on this campaign. We were under the impression we were going to war.”
Pellaeon chuckled. “Well, war can be unpredictable.”
“More so every day, it seems,” Formbi said. “You may assure the Killiks—or whomever—that our fleet will be leaving within a day.”
“Then you’ve completed your search-and-rescue operations?” Leia asked. Her heart was in her throat, for she was thinking of a certain young captain whom she had shot down.
“You would be safe in assuming that,” Formbi replied with typical Chiss evasiveness about military matters.
“Would you happen to know if Jagged Fel was recovered alive?” Leia asked. “As you know, in the past, he has been a close personal friend of our family’s.”
“I also know that the Falcon was the vessel that shot him down,” Formbi replied, a little bitterly.
“So he made it?” Han asked.
“I didn’t say that, Captain Solo.”
“You are not telling?” Saba burst out, speaking for the first time. “Jaina Solo will be a shenbit for a month!”
“I don’t see why. It was my impression that their relationship was over long before her parents shot him down.” Formbi grew thoughtful for a moment, then finally said, “Unfortunately, Commander Fel has not been recovered yet. His rescue beacon is transmitting from a rift valley in accessible to recovery craft. We’ve sent in a team to search for him on foot.”
“Perhaps the Jedi can help,” Luke said. “We might be able to sense—”
“Your help would not be welcome,” Formbi interrupted. “It has cost us too much already.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Luke said. “Please let us know if you change your mind.”
“We won’t,” Formbi assured him.
“Be that as it may, Jaina still regards Commander Fel fondly.” Leia did not mention Zekk; the Chiss were squeamish enough about Joiners without bringing a mind-mate into the love affair. “Jagged’s status was the first thing she asked about after Han and I rescued her. If you do happen to recover him alive before you depart, please let him know that she and her wingmate are making an excellent recovery from their wounds. They’ll be out of the infirmary tomorrow.”
“I really don’t see why Captain Fel would be interested. Assuming we do recover him.” Formbi turned to Pellaeon. “You may assure Chief Omas that a diplomatic team will be arriving shortly to formalize the treaty.”
With that, Formbi closed the channel and vanished from the vid display, leaving the mood in the briefing room slightly less jovial than before—despite the fact that they had just negotiated a successful end to the war.
After a moment, Han said, “Nice guy.” He shook his head in disgust. “No wonder the Chiss get along so well with their neighbors.”
“Out here, I’m afraid getting along with your neighbors means keeping them at arm’s length,” Pellaeon said.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the cabin—which Saba suddenly broke by snatching the lightsaber off Leia’s utility beltbreaking the clasp in the process. Well accustomed to her Master’s stern training exercises—and odd timing—Leia simply turned and bowed her head for the stern rap that she knew Saba was going to dispense for allowing her lightsaber to be snatched away.
When it did not come, Leia looked up to find the Barabel studying her lightsaber with a disapproving eye. “Master?”
“Jedi Solo, where did you get this lightsaber?” Saba demanded.
“I built it,” Leia said. “Over twenty years ago.”
Saba curled her lip in disdain. “This one thought so.” She jammed the hilt into her belt, then added, “It is a terrible weapon, unworthy of your current skillz. You will carry it no more.”
“What?” Leia gasped. “What am I supposed to do for a lightsaber?”
Saba blinked her slit-pupiled eyes in reptilian exasperation.
“Princesz Leia, you are a fine Jedi, the equal of any Jedi Knight in the order.” She pointed a claw at the empty place on Leia’s belt. “What do you think you should do for a lightsaber?”
Leia finally saw what the Barabel was driving at, then felt herself blushing at how long it had taken her to realize the answer. “Build a new one,” she said. “A better one.”
Saba closed her eyes. “Finally.”
Luke laughed, then said, “Congratulations, Leia. I think that means you should consider yourself a full Jedi Knight.”
“No kidding? A full Jedi Knight!” Han wrapped his arm around Leia’s shoulders, then added, “But I don’t see what the big deal is. I could’ve told you that a long time ago.”
Leia slipped her arm around Han’s waist, then stretched up to kiss him on the lips. “Thanks, flyboy. There’s no one I’d rather hear say that.”
Pellaeon cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling, obviously a bit uncomfortable. “That reminds me, Master Skywalker. I’ve had a messenger from Chief Omas. He wishes to convene a meeting of the Advisory Council as soon as we return. If I were Bwua’tu, I’d predict that he’s eager to formalize the Jedi’s new role in the Alliance.”
Han groaned, and an empty feeling came to Leia’s stomach. They had told Luke that they suspected Omas of betraying their mission. Unfortunately, they had no hard evidence of the Chief’s treachery, and Luke did not want to damage the delicate relations between the Jedi and the government by making unprovable accusations. Besides, even if Omas had betrayed the Solos, it was not technically a crime, since he had been acting for the benefit of the Galactic Alliance.
Luke merely nodded. “I’ll be happy to discuss that with Chief Omas myself,” he said. “But I’m afraid the Jedi will be withdrawing from his Advisory Council.”
By the look on the other faces in the cabin, Leia supposed that her brother’s statement had surprised even Admiral Bwua’tu.
Finally, Pellaeon asked, “Why?”
“Because the Jedi should serve, not govern,” Luke said. “In the Colony, we’ve seen again how badly matters turn out when Jedi take the reins of state—even with the purest of motives.”
“But Jedi advice is important!” Pellaeon objected. “At times, I think you’re the only disinterested representatives in the government!”
Luke raised his hand to calm the admiral. “The Galactic Alliance will have Jedi advice,” he said. “I’m going to establish a new Jedi Council to help run the order, and I’ll relay their advice to Chief Omas.”
This declaration was received with the stunned silence that Leia would have believed it deserved—had she seen any better way to hold the Jedi order together.
Finally, Pellaeon said, “A workable organization, as long as you’re at the head of it. But what happens if you’re unavailable?”
An unfocused appearance came to Luke’s gaze, and Leia had the impression that he was looking a long distance into the future.
“Good question,” Luke said. “I wish I knew the answer.”
By Troy Denning
WATERDEEP
DRAGONWALL
THE PARCHED SEA
THE VERDANT PASSAGE
THE CRIMSON LEGION
THE AMBER ENCHANTRESS
THE OBSIDIAN ORACLE
THE CERULEAN STORM
THE OGRE’S PACT
THE GIANT AMONG US
THE TITAN OF TWILIGHT
THE VEILED DRAGON
PAGES OF PAIN
CRUCIBLE: THE TRIAL OF CYRIC THE MAD
THE OATH OF STONEKEEP
FACES OF DECEPTION
BEYOND THE HIGH ROAD
DEATH OF THE DRAGON (with Ed Greenwood)
THE SUMMONING
THE SIEGE
THE SORCERER
STAR WARS: THE NEW JEDI ORDER: STAR BY STAR
STAR WARS: TATOOINE GHOST
STAR WARS: DARK NEST I: THE JOINER KING
STAR
WARS: DARK NEST II: THE UNSEEN QUEEN
STAR WARS: DARK NEST III: THE SWARM WAR
Read on for a preview of
The thrilling sequel to
Star Wars: Republic Commando:
Hard Contact
Coming soon from Del Rey Books!
Tipoca City, Kamino: Eight Years Before Geonosis.
Kal Skirata had committed the biggest mistake of his life, and he’d made some pretty big ones to help him make that comparison.
Kamino was damp. And damp didn’t help his shattered ankle one little bit. No, it was more than damp: it was one storm-whipped sea from pole to pole, and he wished that he’d worked that out before he responded to Jango Fett’s offer of a lucrative long-term deployment in a location that his old comrade hadn’t exactly specified.
But that was the least of his worries now.
The air smelled more like a hospital than a military base. The place didn’t look like barracks, either. Skirata leaned on the polished rail that was all that separated him from a forty-meter fall into a chamber that could swallow a battle cruiser and lose it.
Above him, the vaulted illuminated ceiling stretched as far above him as the abyss did below. The prospect of the fall didn’t worry him half as much as not understanding what he was now seeing.
The cavern—surgically clean, polished durasteel and permaglass—was filled with structures that seemed almost like fractals. At first glance they looked like giant toroids stacked on pillars, and then as he stared, the toroids resolved into smaller rings of permaglass containers, with containers within them, and inside those—
No, this wasn’t happening.
Inside the transparent tubes there was fluid, and within it there was movement.
It took him several minutes of staring and refocusing on the tubes to realize there was a body in the tube, and it was alive. In fact, there was a body in every tube: row upon row of tiny bodies, children’s bodies. Babies.
