by Troy Denning
“And why would I need a sedative?” Vestara allowed herself to take what she hoped would seem a very natural step back into the jungle, then began to draw on the Force, preparing to fight. “Do I seem agitated to you?”
“My fault, I’m afraid,” Jaina said, still circling. She was nearly at the arcade now, in position to launch her attack with a single Force leap. “With Luke in such bad shape, I’m in no mood to take chances—and, well, it hasn’t been all that long since you were a Sith.”
“It’s just until we get out of the Maw, Ves.” Ben began to circle in the opposite direction again. “It doesn’t mean anything. Trust me.”
“Ah, Ben.” Vestara felt a ripping ache inside, as though her heart had literally been torn from her chest. “Why did you have to say that?”
She brought her hand up and hit him with a blast of Force lightning that sent him tumbling with his robes aflame. By then, of course, Jaina was already Force-leaping to the attack. Vestara pivoted around, bringing her Force lightning to bear on the most immediate threat.
Jaina caught the bolt on her lightsaber and landed atop the ledge only a few meters away.
Leap. The fiery crackle of a fast-approaching vessel began to reverberate down from the jungle ridge, building quickly as Ship descended toward the courtyard. Leap high!
Vestara used the Force to launch herself into a high, cartwheeling arc over the courtyard. Jaina spun to follow, but by then a fiery plume was flashing past beneath Vestara—one of Ship’s stony projectiles, moving so fast it was literally setting the air aflame.
The projectile crashed into the ledge with a deafening boom, and Ship came sweeping in to scoop Vestara out of the air. She slammed into the rear wall of the passenger cabin so hard that her breath left her, then remained pinned there by acceleration.
I apologize for the impact, Ship said. I slowed as much as was possible without missing you.
“You did … well,” Vestara gasped, trying to get the air back into her lungs. “But you could ease off just a bit now.”
As you command, Lady Khai. Ship reduced his acceleration to the point that Vestara could swing her legs down to the passenger cabin’s soft deck. I trust you are not hurt.
“Uh … no.”
Vestara stepped to the side of the cabin. A transparent area quickly appeared in front of her, and she found herself looking down on the courtyard where she and Ben had killed Abeloth, a thumb-sized oval of gray stone shrinking into the emerald vastness of the surrounding jungle. To her dismay, she felt a tear start down her cheek. She wiped it away at once.
“Not hurt on the outside, at least.”
The Force rippled with Ship’s confusion. You have internal injuries?
“No, nothing like that,” Vestara replied. “It isn’t physical.”
Ah. You suffer over young Skywalker.
Vestara watched as the gray oval became a gray speck and finally vanished beneath an impenetrable blanket of clouds, then turned away and nodded.
“Yes, that’s right,” she said. “I was in love with him.”
Then you will be fine, Ship assured her. Even better than fine.
“What makes you so sure?” Vestara asked.
Because love is pain, Lady Khai, Ship replied. And pain makes Sith strong.
LUKE OPENED HIS EYES TO A GOLD, SCINTILLATING BLUR—CORUSCANT’S night side, he thought, hanging beyond a medbay viewport.
That the medbay had a viewport was a good sign. It meant he was aboard a sizable vessel—most likely the frigate Redstar, from which he and Jaina had launched into the Maw. It also meant Jaina had survived to fly him to safety. She had prevailed against Ship and, almost certainly, reached Abeloth’s homeworld.
And that meant she had found Ben.
Luke reached out in the Force and was overjoyed to sense his son not too far away, near the front of the ship with many other familiar beings. It felt as though they were deep in discussion, their minds focused and their moods solemn.
After a moment, Ben’s Force aura crackled with delight, and the other presences began to ripple with excitement as they realized Luke had awakened. He allowed his own joy to fill his being, then was overwhelmed by the torrent of love and delight that came flooding back to him. He could feel Corran and Saba and many of the other Masters, all of them bursting with relief and elation. The depth of their emotion was so pure and powerful that he did not know quite what to make of it. It left him feeling humbled and grateful and a bit confused, wondering how long he had been unconscious—and what had been happening while he lay healing.
The answer came a moment later, when Luke’s vision finally cleared and he began to see what had become of Coruscant. The planet remained a sparkling disk of light, but now there were dark areas hundreds of kilometers across—and patches of flickering crimson adjoined by huge swaths of smoke-dimmed light.
Much of Coruscant was either burning or in ruins—and not just in Fellowship Plaza, but in thousands of places across the planet. Despite the Jedi Order’s best efforts to keep the worst of the fighting inside the Temple, the Sith had spread the battle across an entire world. And Abeloth … Abeloth had brought the darkness.
Luke deactivated the medical monitors so they wouldn’t alert an attendant, then removed the IV catheters from his arm. Slowly and with great effort, he got out of bed and dressed in a clean robe he found folded in a locker near his bed. His entire body ached with fever, and his atrophied legs trembled with weakness. But the greatest anguish was in his chest, where he could still feel Abeloth’s balled tentacle—an empty sick heat that he thought might stay with him for the rest of his life.
From behind Luke came the soft rasp of a dilating iris hatch, and a set of boots began to stride across the deck toward him. He turned to see his son approaching, dressed in a short brown robe over trousers and boots. The only signs of his brush with Abeloth were a few fading scars and a self-assured bearing that made him seem suddenly taller, stronger, and far less innocent.
“What are you doing dressed?” Ben demanded, pointing toward the empty bed. “You’re supposed to be in bed!”
Luke merely smiled. “It’s good to see you, too, son.”
He opened his arms, then they embraced and talked for twenty minutes. Luke explained what had happened beyond shadows and how he had been wounded, and Ben reported what had been happening while Luke was in a coma—especially the trouble Leia was having trying to convince Han to replace the Falcon’s lost cockpit with updated equipment. He listed casualties and survivors, cataloged the devastation on Coruscant, and apologized for being fooled by a Sith spy.
“What can I say? You were right about Vestara from the start.” Ben’s voice was filled with self-reproach. “As soon as she realized we knew about the attempt on Allana, she took off in Ship.”
Luke clasped his son’s shoulder. “Ben, don’t be so hard on yourself. By the end, you weren’t the only one who trusted her.” Having fallen for a Sith spy himself as a young man, Luke understood how betrayed and humiliated his son must be feeling right now. “It’s called experience, and the important thing is that you learn from it.”
“Thanks, but I should never have let her escape,” Ben said. “She knew a lot about the Jedi Order—and now, so do the Sith.”
“We learned a lot, too, Ben.” Luke was thinking less about Sith than about the Ones and the Balance, but he didn’t want to worry his son by talking Force philosophy so soon after a brush with death. “Besides, I have a feeling you’ll have more than one chance to bring in Vestara Khai.”
Ben’s face remained resolute. “I hope so,” he said. “Because I was a karking fool for believing her. And I hate that!”
Luke cocked a brow. “Son, you must have missed the part where I said ‘by the end, you weren’t the only one who trusted her.’ ”
Ben looked confused for a moment, then winced as he realized that he had just inadvertently called the Grand Master of the Jedi Order a karking fool. “Uh, I didn’t mean you, Dad.”
&
nbsp; Luke smiled, then realized that, in his excitement to see Ben, he hadn’t noticed how weak he was starting to feel. He took a deep breath and forced himself to stand up straight.
“I think I can forgive you this time, Jedi Skywalker,” Luke said. “Now, I need you to do a few things for me.”
Ben squared his shoulders. “Of course.”
“First, keep the EmDee droids out of here until I’m ready for them,” Luke said. “There are some people I need to see—and I don’t have the energy to argue with droids right now.”
“Okay, but don’t you think you should—”
“I know my limits, Jedi Skywalker,” Luke said. “Second, ask Master Sebatyne to dispatch a team to bring Raynar Thul home from Thuruht. Obviously, he’ll be reluctant to return. But with Abeloth destroyed and the inhabitants of Mortis dead, the Jedi are not going to antagonize the Chiss by helping the Killiks build up their hives.”
Ben nodded. “I’ll tell Master Sebatyne as soon as I leave the cabin,” he said. “What else?”
“I felt Wynn Dorvan’s presence among the Masters,” Luke said. “Is he still serving as the Chief of State?”
“As acting Chief, yes. He and the Jedi Council have been meeting to …” Ben hesitated and glanced out the viewport toward the battered planet below. “Well, the Senate has concerns about the situation on Coruscant—and the Jedi’s role in what happened.”
“Then I’m glad they’re meeting,” Luke said. “Ask Chief Dorvan to join the Masters when they come in. There’s something we all need to discuss.”
“Right away, Grand Master.” Ben bowed his head to acknowledge the order, then quickly looked back up. “But don’t overdo it, Dad. You look like something a wampa dragged in.”
Ben retreated through the hatch without awaiting a reply.
Luke smiled anyway, grateful for his son’s concern, then turned to look out on the devastation below. It was hard to know whether Thuruht’s history of Abeloth’s origin was entirely accurate, but Luke did trust the Jedi record of the encounter on Mortis—and he found it troubling. His father’s refusal to become the new Keeper of the Balance had set off a terrible chain of events. All three of the Ones had died, and now the Force was out of balance.
Looking back over the last half century, it certainly seemed to Luke that there had been a shift toward chaos. Powerful forces of darkness were rising across the entire galaxy—Jacen Solo had become Darth Caedus, the Sith were returning in hordes, and Daala had emerged from the Maw. Boba Fett was now the leader of an entire world of mercenaries, and the Imperial Moffs had developed and unleashed a horrific nanoweapon.
The galaxy was tipping toward darkness before their eyes, and as far as Luke could see, the Jedi and their allies were the only ones capable of restoring the Balance. If they did not dedicate themselves completely to the light, all would be lost.
A gentle rasp sounded as the hatch dilated again, and Luke turned to see his niece leading a long procession of Masters into the cabin. Completely recovered from her own injuries, Jaina looked both robust and beautiful, and there was an inner calm that Luke had not sensed in her before now.
“It’s good to see you on your feet, Grand Master Skywalker,” Jaina said, crossing to Luke and wrapping him in her arms. “How are you feeling?”
“Honestly, a bit weak, but it is very good to be back among the living.”
Jaina glanced toward a chair sitting close to his bedside and said, “Maybe we should sit?”
Luke shook his head, “I’ll be fine, and there are some things I would like the Council to consider before I grow tired.”
Jaina’s eyes flashed with concern, but she nodded. “Just don’t overdo it, okay?”
Luke promised to be careful, then quickly greeted the rest of his visitors: Corran Horn, Kyle Katarn, Kyp Durron, the Yuzzem Master Barratk’l, Cilghal, Octa Ramis—the entire Jedi Council except Kam and Tionne Solusar, who were still out of touch on Shedu Maad, and Saba Sebatyne, who was lingering just outside the cabin issuing the orders to recover Raynar Thul.
Wynn Dorvan came last, looking calm, alert, and remarkably recovered from his torment at the hands of the Sith. In fact, the only noticeable aftereffects of the torture sessions were his baggy eyes, which suggested that he was having trouble sleeping, and the near-obsessive stroking of his pet chitlik’s furry head, which was poking out of his tunic pocket.
“Chief Dorvan, thanks for joining us,” Luke said, offering his hand. “Tell me about the situation on Coruscant.”
Dorvan stopped petting his chitlik long enough to shake hands. “It’s bad, but it’s under control,” he said. “The volcanic activity has stopped everywhere on the planet—though it will probably be years before we have even a basic survey of the damage to the undercity. The seismic activity team has identified over a hundred thousand sites that need investigation down there, and it’s not always easy to tell whether we’re looking for a magma well, a terrorist attack, or a building collapse.”
“Tell him about the death clouds,” Kyp Durron suggested.
Dorvan’s face grew grim. “That’s right,” he said. “Clouds of ash, poisonous gas, and toxic smoke are still spreading through the undercity. We think underdweller casualties are huge. Luke, they could be in the billions already.”
Luke felt a sudden wave of nausea. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish we could have stopped Abeloth before she reached Coruscant.”
“I’m just glad you stopped her when you did,” Dorvan replied. “And frankly, I’m surprised you could. I only saw some of what she was capable of, and …”
Dorvan let his sentence trail off.
“We’re all glad to be rid of her.” Luke felt a shudder of uneasiness roll through the Force. He looked back to Kyp and found him glancing over at Kyle with a worried expression. Heart climbing into his throat, he asked, “We’re not rid of her?”
“As far as we know, yes,” Kyle said, motioning for Luke not to get excited. “But we had an unusual report.”
“Who from?” Luke asked.
“Jedi Knights Arelis and Saar,” Barratk’l replied. “They have been working in the Outer Rim, helping the slaves build free societies, yes?”
Luke nodded. “Go on.”
“Three days ago, they were attacked by a tentacle,” Barratk’l explained. “It materialized out of the Force and attempted to choke Jedi Saar. When Jedi Arelis ignited his lightsaber, it released Saar and turned to attack Arelis—then just dissolved.”
“Sothais said it looked like it wanted to attack,” Octa Ramis added. “But it couldn’t hold itself together. It vanished back into the Force.”
Luke’s semi-healed chest wound began to ache. “Any reports since then?”
“None,” Kyle confirmed. “We think it’s whatever remains of Abeloth, trying to coalesce around symbols of her hatred.”
“I think you’re right,” Luke said. He could still feel her cold tentacle writhing in the emptiness of his chest wound, a phantom memory reminding him that an entity of the Force could never be truly killed—that in a hundred years, or a hundred thousand years, she would grow strong enough to return. “We’re going to need to find a way to keep tabs on her. She may not return in our lifetime, but the Jedi Order will need to be ready.”
“To do what?” Kyp asked.
“To kill her,” Luke replied. He was thinking of the story of his father’s trip to Mortis, of the special Force-imbued dagger that had been used to kill both the Daughter and the Father. “We need to find the Mortis monolith.”
“Master Skywalker, I hope you’ll forgive me for asking,” Dorvan said. “But when you described the story Yoda told you, didn’t you say the monolith was free-floating?”
“That’s right.”
“Won’t that make it rather difficult to find?” Dorvan asked. “Even if you know the approximate coordinates—”
“And we don’t,” Luke interrupted.
Dorvan’s face fell as he began to comprehend the truth of what Luke was tel
ling him—that when it came to Abeloth, there were no guarantees. She might be gone for now, but someday she would return—and if the Jedi were not ready, the Destructor would finish what she had begun.
As Luke watched the terror of this realization wash over Dorvan’s face, he wanted to reach out in the Force and comfort the tormented man, to tell him that the Jedi would be there to protect him and Coruscant and the entire galaxy.
But that would have been a lie. The truth was that Luke no longer knew what the future held, whether he and the Jedi were equal to the challenges ahead of them. All that he could do—all that any mortal could do—was place his faith in himself and his fellow Jedi and do his best. The rest was up to the Force.
“I wish I could tell you that Abeloth won’t be back, Chief,” Luke said at last. “But the truth is, I just don’t know. If the Jedi could have stopped her from coming to Coruscant the first time, we would have. I’m sorry we failed.”
“It’s not your fault—or the Jedi Order’s,” Dorvan said, waving the apology off. “I know that, even if the Senate doesn’t.”
Jaina arrived with a chair he had not asked for—a not-so-subtle hint that Luke was looking tired. Luke motioned for her to put it down in front of the viewport, but chose to remain standing for a few more moments. “So there have been rumblings about our failure to protect Coruscant?”
“More than rumblings, yes?” Barratk’l growled. “They have voted us off the planet!”
Luke turned to Kyle Katarn, no doubt the most politically astute of the Masters present, for clarification. “The Senate has asked the Jedi Order to leave Coruscant?”
Kyle nodded and glanced at Dorvan. “That’s what Chief Dorvan was just telling us when you awoke,” Kyle replied. “They need someone to blame for the apocalypse, and the Inner Rim Caucus was very successful in pinning it on us.”
“With enough votes to override a veto, I might add,” Dorvan said. A certain coolness came to his Force presence, not enough to indicate a lie—but enough to suggest that he was withholding part of the truth. “I’m afraid all those BAMR slurs did have an effect on the Order’s reputation.”
