Star Wars: Dark Nest II: The Unseen Queen

by Troy Denning

  “We prevented an interstellar war!” Kyp interrupted. “We saved billions of lives!”

  “That is in the past,” Omas said, raising a hand to stop Kyp’s protest. “I’m talking about the present. The Jedi are the last ones who need to be reminded of the havoc black membrosia is wreaking on our insect worlds. Shipping losses to the Utegetu pirates are approaching wartime levels—and do I really need to remind you of the death of Sien Sovv?”

  “The Jedi are well aware of the trouble the Killiks are causing, Chief Omas,” Katarn said. “That doesn’t mean we are ready to surrender control of the order to you.”

  “The Jedi need leadership,” Omas countered. “Surely, you all see that as clearly as I do. The situation just keeps growing worse. There’s even a rumor that the Killiks tried to assassinate Queen Mother Tenel Ka!”

  Though the Masters’ expressions remained outwardly unreadable, their silence told Omas all he needed to know.

  “Something else you have been keeping from me.” He shook his head wearily, then looked out the viewport at the silhouettes of the distant skytowers, bowing and swaying in the wind. “My friends, we cannot go on like this. Too much depends on us.”

  “We all agree on that, Chief Omas,” Corran said. “But we’ve discussed this, and we can’t allow you to assume direct control of the Jedi order.”

  Omas nodded. “Of course. I’m not a Jedi.”

  “Actually, only Master Durron feels that has anything to do with it,” Lobi said. “The problem lies in what you are—the Chief of State.”

  Omas frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “We can’t allow the Jedi to become a tool of office,” Hamner explained. “We are guardians as well as servants, and we cannot make ourselves beholden to the same authority we are pledged to watch.”

  “And, as the Chief of State, your concerns are too narrow,” Kyp added. “You’re only worried about the Galactic Alliance. The Jedi serve the whole galaxy—”

  “The Force,” Corran corrected.

  “Right,” Kyp said. “The point is, we have more to worry about. What’s good for the Galactic Alliance isn’t always what serves the Force.”

  “I see.”

  Omas grew thoughtful—though he was contemplating not the wisdom of what the Masters were saying, but the care they had taken to meet him with a united front. Bringing the Jedi back into the Alliance fold was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated.

  After a moment, he looked Kyp directly in the eye. “This may surprise you, but I agree.”

  For once, the Masters appeared stunned.

  “You do?” Kyp asked.

  “Who am I to question the wisdom of the Jedi?” Omas replied. “But that doesn’t mean my concerns can be dismissed. The Jedi are floundering, which means the Galactic Alliance is floundering—and that is something I cannot allow. We must do something.”

  “We are doing something,” Kyp said. “Han and Master Skywalker are looking for the Dark Nest, and then we’re going to destroy it.”

  “Like you did last time?” Omas asked immediately. “I’m sure you’ll understand my complete lack of confidence in that plan. Dark Nest membrosia has ruined the economy of the entire Roche asteroid field, and—as you know better than I—Dark Nest assassins have apparently attacked the queen of an Alliance member-state.”

  The Masters fell into silent contemplation. Omas allowed them to ponder his words for a few moments, then decided the time had come to drop his bomb.

  “And there is something you may not realize. After the Jedi intervention at Qoribu, the Chiss seem to believe that it is your responsibility to persuade the Colony to withdraw from their frontier. They’ve given you ten days to stop further migration into the buffer zone, and a hundred days to persuade the Killiks to withdraw the Colonists who are already there.”

  For the first time he could recall, Omas had the pleasure of watching the jaws of several Jedi Masters drop.

  “Those aren’t unreasonable terms,” Hamner said.

  “And a remarkable expression of trust, considering that they’re Chiss.” Omas allowed himself one small smirk. “Though, considering the order’s disarray without Master Skywalker available to guide it, I’m wondering if it wouldn’t be more honest to let them know that they’re on their own.”

  All of the Masters gave voice to their disapproval and dismay, but Kyp was loudest. “That’s not your decision to make!”

  Omas fixed the shaggy-haired Master with his iciest glare. “To the contrary, Master Durron, it is very much my decision. The Chiss chose to transmit their demand through me, so how I respond is entirely at my own discretion. If I feel that the Jedi order isn’t up to the task, then it is not only my right to tell them so, it is my duty.”

  Kyp began to work his mouth in soundless anger. Omas sighed, then slumped back in his chair. Hamner, who had nearly as much experience on the bureaucratic battlefield as Omas himself, was the first to realize that the Chief was waiting for them to open negotiations.

  “What are you looking for, Chief Omas?” he asked.

  Omas allowed himself a moment of dramatic silence, then spoke without straightening himself. “A leader.”

  “A leader?” Katarn asked.

  Omas nodded. “Someone to take charge of the Jedi and handle this mess until Master Skywalker returns.”

  Kyp frowned, clearly suspicious. “Who?”

  “One of you.” Omas leaned forward. “Starting today. Beyond that, I really don’t care. How about you?”

  Kyp was just as astonished the other Masters. “Me?”

  “You seem to have a very clear idea of what the Jedi should be,” Omas said. “I think you’d make a fine leader. And, believe it or not, you and I want the same thing—a peaceful end to the Killik problem.”

  A distant light came to Kyp’s eyes, and if he noticed the uncomfortable expressions on the faces of the other Masters, he did not show it.

  “I suppose that’s true,” he said.

  Hamner cleared his throat and sat forward. “No offense to Master Durron, but the Jedi order is led by a council of senior Masters. You know that, Chief Omas.”

  “Of course.” As Omas replied, he was watching the light vanish from Kyp’s eyes. “But we all know that Master Skywalker is first among the Masters. I’m merely suggesting that Kyp step up and take his place—just until Master Skywalker returns, of course.”

  “I see what you’re doing—and it won’t work,” Kyp snarled. “Master Skywalker leads the Jedi.”

  “Not from Woteba, he doesn’t,” Omas replied. “And if you’re counting on Princess Leia’s rescue mission to bring him back soon, I’m afraid you’re going to be waiting a very long time.”

  Omas had expected a feeling of alarm to fill the council room when he announced this, but the Masters disappointed him—as they were doing in so many ways, these days. They simply closed their eyes and fell silent for a moment.

  Tresina Lobi was the first to open her eyes again and look at him. “Where is she?”

  “I’m afraid Admiral Bwua’tu has impounded the Falcon.” Omas forced an apologetic smile. “It seems Princess Leia and her friends were trying to run the Utegetu blockade.”

  “You interfered with their mission?” Katarn demanded. “You’re putting Han and Luke in danger!”

  “Not intentionally, I assure you,” Omas said smoothly. “But these things happen when we keep secrets from each other.”

  “We’ve already explained that,” Katarn said.

  Omas shrugged. “It doesn’t change what happened.” He turned to Hamner. “Forgive me, but when I couldn’t get Master Skywalker to return my messages, I assumed the worst.”

  “That we were going to help the Killiks move the Utegetu nests to the Chiss frontier?” Hamner asked. “We would never—”

  “How am I to know what the Jedi would or would not do?” Omas nodded toward Kyp. “As Master Durron says, your concerns go beyond the Galactic Alliance. Mine do not—and the Jed
i have placed our interests second before.”

  “A peaceful galaxy is in everyone’s best interest,” Kyp countered.

  “And when you can guarantee that, the Galactic Alliance will gladly support a Jedi government.” Omas allowed his anger to show. “Until then, we will look out for our own interests—and if that means arresting Jedi when they attempt to run our blockades, so be it.”

  “You’re holding Jedi hostage!” Kyp snarled.

  “Not at all,” Omas said. “Admiral Bwua’tu is merely providing accommodations until we come to an agreement.”

  “There won’t be one.” Kyp rose and started for the door. “Not while you’re still Chief of State.”

  “Master Durron!” Hamner jumped up to go after him. “That kind of talk is—”

  “Kenth . . . Kenth!” Omas had to yell before Hamner stopped and turned toward him. “Let him go. He’s not wrong, you know. I am forcing your hand.”

  Hamner let out a breath of exasperation, then said, “It had not escaped our notice, believe me.”

  “And I’m sorry.” Omas’s apology was sincere. “But it’s time we started to work together again, don’t you think?”

  “It appears we have no other choice,” Lobi said. Her eyes flicked down the line of Masters beside her. “Who are we going to elect our temporary leader?”

  “Not so fast,” Katarn said. “Before we go on, maybe we should see if anyone else intends to join Master Durron.”

  “Of course,” Omas said. “I wouldn’t want to force anyone to be part of this.”

  “That’s very considerate of you,” Cilghal said.

  To Omas’s surprise, she rose and started for the door. He waited until she was gone, then turned to Katarn.

  “And what is your decision, Master Katarn?”

  “Oh, I’m staying.” Kyle extended his legs and folded his arms across his chest. “I wouldn’t want to make this too easy on you.”

  “Of course not.” Omas smiled. Now that he had brought the Masters in line, he needed a temporary leader who was incapable of uniting the Jedi in support of the Killiks—and who would have no choice but to yield the position once Luke Skywalker was allowed to return. After all, Omas was not trying to destroy the Jedi, merely keep them out of the way while the Chiss dealt with the Killiks. “Perhaps you would care to be the one who nominates Master Horn as the temporary leader of the order?”

  FOURTEEN

  The barrier field at the mouth of the Jedi academy’s main hangar was still up, despite the fact that Jaina and Zekk and the other pilots of the rescue squadron sat sweltering in their cockpits, itching inside their flight suits and choking on the stale, vapor-tinged air that accumulated within any starfighter in the long minutes before it launched. Their StealthXs were fully fueled and armed, their repulsorlift drives activated, their jump coordinates plotted all the way to the Murgo Choke . . . and still flight control held them in the hangar.

  Kyp Durron’s voice came over their cockpit speakers. “Flight control, this is Rescue One.” He was speaking from the seat of his own starfighter, transmitting under the only circumstance in which StealthX protocols authorized use of the comm system. “Request deactivation of the hangar shield again!”

  “Rescue One, please stand by,” control responded.

  “We have been standing by,” Kyp retorted. “Deactivate this hangar shield now, or I’ll do it for you!”

  Kyp bolstered the threat by arming his laser cannons, then floating his StealthX around to target the generator housings at the top corner of the barrier field.

  During the tense silence that followed, Jaina and Zekk felt Jacen’s presence in the twin bond between him and Jaina for the first time in weeks. He was reaching out to them—to Jaina, really, but it felt like them—urging them to wait.

  Kyp’s voice came over the comm unit again. “Control, you have five seconds. Five—”

  “Rescue One, please stand by,” control replied. “Someone is coming down to talk to you.”

  “I’m done talking,” Kyp said. “Four.”

  Jaina opened a squadron-only channel. “Master Durron, we think it’s Jacen.”

  “We felt him in the Force,” Zekk added. “Urging us to wait.”

  “Don’t tell me he’s taking Horn’s side!” Kyp said.

  “You know better than that,” Tahiri reproached. “The only side Jacen takes is the Force’s.”

  “Toes is right,” Tesar Sebatyne rasped, referring to Tahiri by her squadron call sign. “Jacen is above all this arguing.”

  Kyp sighed. “How long?”

  Jaina and Zekk reached out to Jacen, sharing with him the impatience they were already feeling with the launching delay. A moment later, an image of the Jedi academy as seen from the air appeared on their mind. It was growing rapidly larger.

  “Soon,” Zekk said.

  Kyp dropped his StealthX back onto its skids. “Okay. Everyone pop your tops and get some air.” He switched back to the open channel. “Affirmative, control. We’ll wait.”

  “You will?” Control sounded as surprised as she did relieved. Like most of the non-Jedi support staff caught up in the argument over Corran Horn’s appointment as the temporary leader of Jedi order, she was just trying to carry on as usual . . . and failing miserably. “Thank you!”

  The squadron popped their canopies and let out a collective sigh of relief as the relatively fresh air of the hangar flooded their cockpits.

  Jaina and Zekk reached out to Jacen, trying to get some sense of what he was thinking. But he had drawn in on himself again, maintaining just enough presence in the twin bond to be sure the squadron was still waiting. That was typical Jacen. Since his return from his five-year journey to learn more about the Force, he seemed more determined to control his bond with Jaina and Zekk, more reluctant to share himself with them. It almost seemed as though he was trying to protect something from them.

  Or protect them from something inside him.

  That was probably the case, Jaina and Zekk decided. No one could suffer what Jacen had at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong and remain completely whole. The torments Tahiri had suffered during her captivity had ultimately caused a personality split, and Jacen had been held prisoner far longer than she had—under even more brutal circumstances. What had shattered inside him was anyone’s guess.

  Jaina and Zekk would be patient. They would continue to hold the twin bond open, to share with him what he would not share with them. And when he finally came apart, they would be there to help him find the pieces. That was what nest-fellows did.

  Jacen’s presence was still somewhere far above the academy when the door to the main access corridor slid open. A moment later Corran Horn marched into the hangar with Kenth Hamner and several other Jedi following close behind. All were scowling, and all were heading straight for the rescue squadron.

  Kyp twisted around to scowl at Jaina. “That’s not Jacen.”

  “He’s on his way,” she said.

  “He’s too late.” Kyp turned back around, then spoke over the squadron-only channel. “Button back up. We’re leaving.”

  As the rest of the squadron started to lower their canopies, Kyp reactivated his repulsorlift drive.

  “Put that craft back down!” Corran yelled.

  He pointed at the hangar floor and yelled something else, but Jaina and Zekk’s canopies were already down and they did not hear what he said.

  Whatever it was, Kyp ignored it and turned the nose back toward the barrier field generator. “Control, this is my last warning.”

  Corran suddenly came bounding across the floor with an activated lightsaber. He landed beneath the nose of Kyp’s StealthX, then reached up beneath the forward landing strut, slashed one of the hydraulic lines necessary to retract the gear, and leapt back just in time to avoid being hit with a spray of oily orange fluid.

  “Nizzze move,” Izal Waz commed over the squadron channel. “Didn’t think Horn had that in him.”

  “Hold the chatter,” Jaina
commed. Izal Waz was one of the Wild Knights whom Saba Sebatyne had introduced to the Jedi order during the war with the Yuuzhan Vong, and he had a sharp tongue even by Arconan standards. “We don’t need any zingers right now.”

  “Things are tense enough,” Zekk added.

  And getting tenser. Kyp had already returned his StealthX to the hangar floor and was climbing out of the cockpit. Jaina and Zekk and the rest of squadron reopened their canopies.

  “. . . wrong with you?” Kyp was yelling at Corran. “You could have gotten killed!”

  “I ordered you to stop,” Corran retorted.

  “I heard you.” Kyp dropped to the hangar floor and peered under the StealthX’s nose. “And look what you did! That’s going to set us back three hours.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Corran said. “This mission isn’t authorized.”

  Kyp looked up. “I authorized it.”

  He flicked his wrist, and Corran went sailing across the hangar back toward Kenth and the other Jedi. It was a particularly insulting dismissal, since Corran could not respond in kind, having never been able to master the skill of Force telekinesis.

  The same was not true of Kenth Hamner. He extended his arm, and Kyp flew back against the hull of his StealthX and remained there, pinned.

  “You were not appointed the leader of the Jedi order,” Kenth said, leading Corran and the rest of the Jedi back toward Kyp. “Master Horn was.”

  “This is getting out of hand,” Jaina commed over the squadron channel.

  “Everybody out,” Zekk added.

  “But leave your lightsabers in your cockpits,” Jaina finished.

  “Leave our lightsabers?” Wonetun objected. Another Sebatyne-trained Jedi Knight, the powerfully built Brubb had a voice as raspy as his pitted hide. “They have their lightsabers.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Jaina said.

  “This isn’t going to be a fight,” Zekk added.

  “Yet,” Tesar Sebatyne finished.

  Before Jaina could rebuke the Barabel for contributing to the general chaos, Tesar was dropping out of his cockpit and striding across the floor toward the rapidly growing showdown. Lowbacca caught up to him an instant later, and they took flanking positions behind Kyp’s shoulders. By the time Jaina and Zekk and the rest of the squadron reached the crowd, the argument was already in full roar.