With Ackbar's refusal to return to Coruscant, and with Mon Mothma growing
weaker day by day, that meant Leia had to face all the problems of the New
Republic alone.
Daylight shone through the rectangular skylights of the Great Temple. Kyp
sat on an uncomfortable stone bench in the grand audience chamber, listening
to Master Skywalker. He pretended to pay attention, though it became more
and
more difficult as his opinion of Skywalker's knowledge dwindled.
The other Jedi trainees sat in rapt attention as Master Skywalker placed
the small white Holocron on its pedestal. It told yet another story of the
ancient Jedi Knights, extolling their heroic adventures, their battles
against
the dark side--all ultimately ineffectual, because the Emperor and Darth
Vader
had been stronger than the Jedi Knights, squashing them.
Skywalker refused to learn from that failure. If he meant to bring the
new Jedi Knights to greater power, he would have to recognize new abilities,
make his Order of Jedi Knights powerful enough to resist a purge like
Vader's.
Exar Kun had shown Kyp the ways of the Sith. But Master Skywalker would
never adopt those teachings. Kyp wondered why he bothered to keep listening
to
Skywalker. He seemed so weak, so indecisive.
The other students were a potential wellspring of strength. They had
learned how to tap the Force, but they had gone no further than a novice
level, mere magicians, playacting in a role that was too big for any of
them.
They refused to peek behind the doors of greater power; but Kyp was not
afraid. He could handle the responsibility.
Another holographic gatekeeper of the Holocron appeared and began telling
the story of how young Yoda had become a Jedi. Kyp stifled a yawn, unable to
understand why they had to keep watching these trivial histories.
He craned his neck to look at the walls of the enormous stone temple. In
his mind he tried to imagine the great Sith War four thousand years ago. He
thought of the damp-skinned Massassi race enslaved by Exar Kun, used by him
as
tools to build the temples that he had reconstructed from even more ancient
and forgotten Sith records. Kun had revitalized the dark teachings, granting
himself the title of Dark Lord of the Sith, a tradition passed down all the
way to Darth Vader, who had been the last Sith Lord.
Exar Kun's temples had been erected across Yavin 4--the last
archaeological resting place of the incredibly ancient Sith race--as focal
points for his power. Kun had ruled here on the jungle moon, controlling
forces that had nearly defeated the Old Republic. But the warlord Jedi Ulic
Qel-Droma had betrayed him; and all the united Jedi had swept down in a
final
battle on Yavin 4, exterminating the Massassi natives, leveling most of the
Sith temples, razing most of the rain forest in a holocaust from the skies.
But Exar Kun had managed to encyst his spirit here, waiting four thousand
years until other Jedi came to awaken him....
Kyp fidgeted and pretended to pay attention. The temple chamber seemed
extremely hot. The Holocron droned on and on.
Luke listened with a beatific smile, and the other students continued to
observe the images. Kyp g azed at the walls and wondered why he was there.
As half night fell across the jungles of Yavin 4, Luke Skywalker sat back
and allowed himself to relax in one of the meeting halls. Smaller than the
grand audience chamber, the hall had arched stone ceilings and polished
tables, along with serviceable furniture left behind by the Rebel
occupation.
Bright glowlamps hung in old torch sconces.
Luke felt bone weariness seeping through his body and hunger gnawing in
his stomach. For now the students relaxed, recharging their mental energy.
All day long Luke had supervised them through Force exercises, levitation
training, visualizing battles and conflicts, sensing other animals and
creatures in the forest, learning Jedi history from the Holocron. He was
pleased with how well they were doing; though the death of Gantoris still
felt
like an open wound, he saw that his other students were making great
progress.
He felt confident in being able to bring back the Jedi Knights.
One of the trainees, Tionne, sat in the corner preparing to play a
stringed musical instrument two hollow resonating boxes separated by a shaft
strung with tonal cords.
"This is the ballad of Nomi Sunrider," she said, "one of the historical
Jedi Knights." She smiled. Long silvery hair streamed past her shoulders,
hanging down to her chest and splitting like a white-capped river down her
back. Her eyes were small and close set, glinting with a mother-of-pearl
sheen. Her nose was small, her jaw squarish. Luke thought she looked more
exotic than beautiful.
Tionne had a great passion for the old Jedi legends and ballads and
histories. Even before Luke found her, she had dedicated her life to
resurrecting the old stories, digging them out of the archives and
popularizing them. Luke had tested Tionne's Jedi talent, and while her
potential was perhaps less than the other students', she made up for it with
absolute devotion and enthusiasm.
The others found chairs, benches, or just a smooth spot on the floor to
hear Tionne sing. She laid the instrument in her lap, and as the trainees
listened, she plucked the strings with both hands, setting up an echoing
music
that fed and subtracted from her lyrics as she sang.
Luke closed his eyes and heard her tale about young Nomi Sunrider, who,
after her husband's murder, attended the Jedi training that had been meant
for
him. Nomi had become a pivotal character in the devastating Sith War that
pitted Jedi against Jedi in the ancient days of the Old Republic.
Luke smiled as he heard the music, the resonating notes, Tionne's soft
and watery voice as she sang with passion. From the far side of the room,
Luke
heard a restless stirring and turned to see Kyp Durron, his face stormy with
a
scowl. The young man sighed, scowled again, and finally stood up,
interrupting
Tionne's song.
"I wish you wouldn't perpetuate that ridiculous story," Kyp said. "Nomi
Sunrider was a victim. She fought in the Sith Wars without ever
understanding
what the battles were about. She listened blindly to her Jedi Masters, who
were afraid because Exar Kun had discovered a way for the Jedi to increase
their power."
Tionne set her musical instrument on the flagstones and gripped her knees
through the fabric of her robe. Her face looked stricken, her small eyes
glinting with confusion. "What are you talking about?" Her voice was thick
with discouragement. "I've spent weeks reconstructing that legend. Everyone
here knew what I was doing. If you had other information, Kyp, why didn't
you
share it with me?"
"Where did you learn all this history, Kyp?" Luke said, standing up. He
put his hands on his hips, trying to stare Kyp down. The young man had
become
more and more volatile as he acquired Jedi knowledge. Calm, you must be
calm,
Yoda had said, but Luke didn't know how to make Kyp calm.
Kyp flashed his glance across the trainees, who looked at him in
astonishment. "If the Sith War had turned out differently," he said,
"perhaps
the Jedi Knights would have learned how to defend themselves when Darth
Vader
came hunting, and they wouldn't all have been slaughtered. The Jedi would
never have fallen, and we wouldn't be here, taught by someone who doesn't
know
any more than we do."
Luke remained adamant. "Kyp, tell me where you learned all this."
Kyp pushed his lips together and narrowed his eyes. He drew several deep
breaths, and Luke could sense the turmoil inside him, as if his mind were
working rapidly to come up with an answer. "I can use the Holocron too," he
said. "As Master Skywalker keeps telling us, we are all obligated to learn
everything we can."
Luke didn't quite believe the young man's words, but before he could ask
another question, Artoo trundled in, warbling and chittering in alarm. Luke
deciphered some of the electronic language. "No idea who it is?" he said.
Artoo whistled a descending hooting negative.
"We have a visitor," Luke announced. "A ship is landing on the grid right
now. Shall we go out to greet the pilot?" He turned to place a firm hand on
Kyp's shoulder, but the young man shrugged away. "We'll discuss this later,
Kyp."
Relieved to have a distraction that would shatter the tension, Luke led
the way. The other Jedi students followed him down the stone steps and
through
the hangar bay to the cleared landing grid.
A small personal fighter--a Z-95 Headhunter, a sleek metallic cruiser
often used by smugglers--circled and eased down into the clearing. The other
students stood at the edge of the grid, but Luke came forward.
The cockpit doors swung up like the wings of a great insect and the pilot
emerged. Luke saw a sleek silvery suit clinging to the curves of a young
woman's body. She stepped down, pulled off an opaque helmet and shook her
dark
reddish-brown hair. Her angular face had once been pinched with
determination,
but now seemed softened, her eyes wider, her full lips not entirely
unaccustomed to a smile.
"Mara Jade," Luke said.
She tucked the helmet under her left arm, squeezing it against her rib
cage. "Hello, Luke." She looked at him with just the hint of a friendly
expression, then raised her eyebrows. "Or do I have to call you "Master
Skywalker" now?"
Luke shrugged, holding out his arms to welcome her. "That depends on why
you're here."
She left the Headhunter open behind her as she strode across the clearing
to take his hand in greeting. Then she swiveled in a military-style maneuver
to survey the dozen students that had come to Luke's training center.
"You told me I had the ability to use the Force," she said. "I came here
to learn more about it. Jedi powers could help me run the smugglers' guild."
She unzipped a flexible pouch at her side and tugged out a packet of
microcompacted folds of cloth, more than Luke could believe would fit inside
a
tiny package. She shook the brownish folds, unwrapping her garment.
She looked at the identical garments on all of Luke's trainees and then
back at him. "See," she said. "I even brought a Jedi robe."
Over a generous meal of spiced runyip stew and bowls of chopped edible
greens, Luke watched Mara Jade feed herself as if she were famished. Luke
savored every bite, sensing the nutrients and energies as they slowly
permeated his body.
"The New Republic is counting on your Jedi Knights, Luke, and things are
getting much worse out there," she said.
Luke leaned forward, lacing his fingers together and trying to pick up
echoes of her emotions. "What's happening?" he said. "We're starved for
news."
"Well," Mara Jade said, still chewing a mouthful of greens. She swallowed
and took a drink of cold spring water, frowning at it as if she had expected
something else.
"Admiral Daala has continued her depredations. She doesn't seem to be
allied with any of the Imperial warlords. From what we can tell, she's just
trying to cause a lot of damage to anyone who opposed the Empire--and she is
causing plenty of damage. You know that she has been hitting supply ships,
blowing them out of space? She leveled the new colony on Dantooine."
"Dantooine!" Luke said.
Mara looked at him. "Yes, isn't one of your students from that group of
people?"
Luke sat rigid. Some of the trainees gasped in shock. His mind whirled,
thinking of all the refugees he had helped relocate to a supposedly safe
place
from the treacherous world of Eol Sha. But now they had been wiped out.
"Not anymore," he said. "Gantoris died. He was... unprepared for the
powers he tried to use."
Mara Jade raised her thin eyebrows, waited for him to explain further.
When Luke said nothing else, she continued. "The worst part was when Daala
struck the planet Calamari. Seems she meant to take out the orbiting
shipyards, but Admiral Ackbar recognized her tactics. He blew up one of her
three Star Destroyers - comb Daala still managed to sink two Calamarian
floating cities. Countless thousands died."
Kyp Durron stood up at the far end of the long table. "Daala lost another
one of her Star Destroyers?"
Mara Jade looked at him as if noticing the young dark-haired man for the
first time. "She still has two Star Destroyers, and no inhibitions. Admiral
Daala can still cause incredible destruction, and she has a weapon no one
else
seems to have she knows she's got nothing to lose."
"I should have sacrificed myself," Kyp said. "I could have killed her
with my bare hands when I was on the Gorgon."
He lowe red his voice, relating the story Luke already knew. "We stole the
Sun Crusher out from under her nose, and we wasted our opportunity. We had a
weapon that could have struck a decisive blow against the worlds still loyal
to the Empire--but what did we do with it? We threw the Sun Crusher into a
gas
planet where it won't help us at all."
"Calm," Luke said. He gestured for Kyp to sit back down, but Kyp placed
his hands flat on the veined stone table, leaning over to glare at Luke.
"The Imperial threat is not going to go away!" he said. "If we pool our
Jedi powers, we can resurrect the Sun Crusher, tear it out from the core of
Yavin. We can take it and go hunt the Imperials. What could be a clearer
mission for us? Why are we just hiding here on this backwater moon?"
He paused, fuming. When the other students looked at him, Kyp glared back
at them. "Are you all stupid?" he shouted. "We don't have the luxury to
fine-
tune our levitating abilities, or balance rocks, or sense rodents out in the
jungle. What good does tha
t do? If we aren't going to use our powers to help
the New Republic, then why bother?"
Luke looked at Mara Jade, who seemed greatly interested in this
discussion. He refocused his attention on Kyp. The young man's meal was
practically untouched.
"Because that isn't the Jedi way," Luke said. "You've studied the Code.
You know how we must approach a difficult situation. The Jedi do not set out
to destroy recklessly."
Kyp turned his back on Luke and stormed toward the door of the dining
chamber. At the arched stone entrance to the room, Kyp whirled and said, "If
we don't use our power, then we may as well not have it. We're betraying the
Force with our cowardice."
He gritted his teeth, and his words came out much more quietly. "I'm not
certain what else I can learn here, Master Skywalker." With that, he
vanished
into the corridor.
Kyp felt his skin tingling with barely contained power, as if his blood
had begun to fizz inside of him. He moved down the temple corridors like a
projectile, and when he reached the heavy door to his quarters, he used the
force to fling it open and slam it against the far wall with enough strength
to flake a long splinter of stone from the blocks.
How could he ever have admired Master Skywalker? What did Han Solo see in
him as a friend? The Jedi teacher was blind to reality, ignoring problems,
covering his eyes with his Jedi cloak, and refusing to use his own powers
for
the good of the New Republic! The Empire remained a threat, as Daala's
attacks
on Calamari and Dantooine demonstrated--if Skywalker refused to use his
powers
to wipe out the enemy, then perhaps his convictions were not strong enough.
But Kyp's were.
He could stay at the Jedi academy no longer. He yanked at the collar of
his robe to tear it off. From his stash of personal belongings Kyp pulled
out
a satchel that contained the flowing black cape that Han had given him as a
good-bye gift. During his training at the praxeum, he had been content to
wear
the rough old robe Master Skywalker provided. But now he wanted nothing more
to do with it.
Exar Kun had shown him how to unleash great powers. Kyp did not trust the
Sith Lord, but he could not deny the truth of what the shadow man taught.
Kyp
could see the power actually working.
Dark Apprentice Page 24
