Tempest: Star Wars (Legacy of the Force) (Star Wars: Legacy of the Force)

by Troy Denning

  Luke motioned to Raatu and Tozr to remain where they were, then he and Mara went into the bedroom and checked the closet and refresher to make certain Lumiya was not hiding anywhere. By the time they returned to the main room, the two detectives were already emerging from the kitchen area.

  “Didn’t I ask you to stay by the door?”

  “You asked,” Raatu replied. “She’s not in the kitchen.”

  “Not in there, either,” Mara said, hooking a thumb toward the bedroom. “Looks like we missed her.”

  “She’ll be back.” Tozr pointed to a bouquet of blue, long-stalked puffballs sitting in the middle of the dining table, then smiled and stepped over to smell them. “Nobody puts out fresh flowers unless they’re coming—”

  “No!” This time, it was Mara who Force-jerked a potential victim out of danger. She floated him to the opposite side of the room, then said, “I wouldn’t do that.”

  Tozr flared his cheek folds in irritation. “Why not?”

  “Sith specialize in tricks and traps.” Luke took Raatu’s datapad, then snapped an image of the flowers and requested an identification.

  “That’s why we wanted you to stay in the main room,” Mara explained. “Everything in this place is a potential trap.”

  The datapad beeped, and Luke looked down to find a name and description of the flower. “Nerfscourge,” he reported. “An overdose of pollen causes nerve damage in most species.”

  “Oh.” Raatu glanced around the room a couple of times, then followed Tozr out into the hallway to wait with the building manager. “You can just dictate a record of what you find into the datapad.”

  “Good idea.” Mara pointed Luke toward the kitchen. “You take the galley. The last thing I want is you rooting around in an old girlfriend’s bedroom.”

  “No worries.” Luke flashed a roguish grin. “Nothing in there I haven’t seen before.”

  Mara shot him a look that could have melted a comet, then waved him into the kitchen. “Get busy. This woman is after our son, remember?”

  Luke went into the kitchen and began to look through processing units and storage containers. He quickly learned that Lumiya lived almost entirely on juice and protein drinks—not too surprising given the challenges of maintaining a body that was as much cybernetic as flesh. But he found nothing to suggest how she had known Ben would be in Fellowship Plaza last night—no eavesdropping equipment tucked away in a cabinet, no electro-binoculars hanging from a drawer knob, no holocam recharger sitting on the counter. Nothing.

  Luke turned back toward the living room and saw Mara’s reflection staring at him out of a mirror. She seemed more beautiful than ever, her hair a deeper red, her face a little fuller and less lined.

  “Notice anything?” She was speaking from the bedroom, but thanks to the reflection, Luke felt as though he were looking directly into her eyes. “About the mirrors, I mean.”

  “Of course,” Luke said. “They’re everywhere—and you can see the entire apartment from anywhere.”

  Mara appeared disappointed. “Not that,” she said. “They distort your image—make you appear more attractive from every angle.”

  “Okay, now I see it,” Luke said.

  “Like you said, Sith are all about illusions and deception,” Mara said. “Even when they’re alone. Know what else I found?”

  “Her datapad?” Luke asked hopefully.

  “Sorry.” Mara emerged from the bedroom emptyhanded, and he turned to face her—the real her, which he thought was even more beautiful than the enhanced reflections. “Nothing. No luggage, no power cells, no tool kits.”

  Luke frowned. “No replacement parts?”

  Mara shook her head. “Not a one.”

  “Replacement parts?” Raatu asked from the door.

  “Cybernetic replacement parts,” Luke answered. “Lumiya is as much machine as human, and that means she needs to maintain herself.”

  “Exactly,” Mara said. “All Luke has is one mechanical hand, and he has to keep half a kilo of parts handy or risk not being able to cut his own nerf steak. Lumiya must carry a small workshop around.”

  Tozr raised his brow. “So if her tools aren’t here—”

  “Then neither is Lumiya.” Raatu let out a vile Rodian curse. “Someone warned her we were coming!”

  “No.” Mara went into the bedroom, then returned with an elegant taffeta skirt-and-tunic set. “She intends to come back sometime. No woman would take her luggage and leave this behind—at least not one who has so many of these mirrors.”

  “So she’s just taking a trip somewhere,” Raatu said. “That means she had to arrange transport.”

  He entered the room, took the datapad from Luke, and went over to the entertainment wall. He started to jack it into the central comm port—then suddenly stopped and looked over his shoulder for reassurance.

  Luke did not sense any danger. “It’s safe,” he said. “But I don’t see what—”

  “The Law Enforcement Tools Provision,” Raatu explained. “I can recall all data accessed from this origination point anytime in the last month.” He jacked in, then began to punch the keypad furiously. A moment later a section of the entertainment wall activated, displaying a record of data accesses from that location. He selected TRAVEL, and a map showing the location of the Bothan embassy appeared.

  “What the blazes?” Tozr cried. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

  “It does if Lumiya killed the ambassador,” Mara said. “See what other locations she’s looked up.”

  Raatu tapped a few more keys, and a long list of addresses in the Bothan quarter appeared. Before Luke could request it, Raatu had already asked for a list of corresponding names.

  As soon as names started appearing, Tozr gasped, “It’s her! She’s the one who’s been killing Bothans!”

  Luke and Mara shared a glance, silently asking each other if they needed to share something that Omas had told them the night before about the Bothan murders.

  As Raatu continued to scroll through the long file, Tozr pulled out his comlink and started to open a channel.

  Mara reached over and stopped him. “You might want to wait until you’re back at headquarters.”

  Raatu craned his green neck around, the lips of his green snout pulled back into a threatening snarl. “This is a law enforcement matter.”

  “It’s also a political minefield.” Luke pointed at the names on the screen. “Those dead Bothans were all members of the True Victory Party.”

  Raatu’s snarl vanished, and Tozr immediately snapped his comlink shut.

  “We’ll wait,” the Bith said.

  “Good idea,” Mara said. “What I want to know is how Lumiya got their membership list.”

  “Let’s see if I can sniff that out,” Raatu said. He typed a few more commands, then a message came up asking for a password. He tapped the keys some more, and another message appeared. GAG ACCESS ONLY.

  Raatu disconnected his datapad so fast that its speaker popped, and Tozr let his chin fall to his chest.

  “Crimey,” the Bith said. “Now we’re just borked.”

  A second message appeared on the wall screen: YOUR ATTEMPT TO BREACH SECURITY HAS BEEN NOTED.

  “How did Lumiya slice into GAG files?” Mara asked.

  Luke didn’t bother guessing. He was beginning to fear the answer was a lot less complicated than they realized—and the thought was causing an icy lump to gather in his belly. He stepped over to the apartment door and motioned the building manager over.

  “What’s the name on this lease?”

  “Defula,” the Neimoidian informed him. “Bant Defula.”

  “Defula?” Mara asked, coming up behind Luke. “Who’s his employer?”

  The Neimoidian removed a small datapad from his robe pocket and tapped in a command. “My records indicate that he’s a senior executive with Astrotours Limited.”

  “Never heard of them,” Mara said. “What’s their comm code?”

  The Neimoidian
turned his datapad so she could see.

  Mara frowned. “That’s the same suffix as GAG’s code.”

  Luke looked at the number and frowned himself. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence,” he said. “Just because two comm codes have the same suffix doesn’t always mean they’re related.”

  “No—but it usually does,” Mara said. She turned to Raatu. “See what you can find out about Astrotours.”

  Raatu kept his hands away from the datapad. “Does it have anything to do with GAG?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Luke said. “Go ahead. You’ve already tripped their security gate.”

  The Rodian let out a reluctant nose-whistle, but quickly brought up a poorly done information page advertising Outer Rim adventure cruises with stops at rugged worlds such as Hoth, Geonosis, and Dagobah.

  “Who’d want to go to Geonosis?” Tozr asked scornfully. “It’s nothing but a bug nest!”

  “I think that’s the point—nobody would,” Mara said. “And Hoth and Dagobah aren’t exactly vacation paradises, either.”

  “I don’t know,” Luke said. “Dagobah’s all right.”

  “Only if you enjoy feeding leechwings,” Mara retorted. She shook her head in disgust, then entered the comm code the building manager had provided for the renter. A moment later she arched her brow, then turned to Luke with a worried expression—but spoke into the comlink. “Corporal Lekauf—why am I not surprised?”

  Luke suddenly found himself very angry. If Astrotours Limited was a GAG front company, then Lumiya had not sliced into the GAG files—she had been given access to them.

  He pulled his own comlink and tried to open a channel to Ben, but Ben’s comlink was still being blocked, probably because he was still in the security zone around Crix Base—or already aboard the Anakin Solo.

  “Don’t bother denying it,” Mara was saying to Lekauf. “I recognize your voice.”

  Luke took the comlink from Mara, then said, “Corporal, this is Grand Master Skywalker of the Jedi order. Do you know whether Colonel Solo and my son have already boarded the Anakin Solo?”

  “The Anakin Solo, sir?” Lekauf did his best to sound confused.

  “Don’t play stupid.” Luke held the comlink between him and Mara so she could hear, too. “This is my son we’re talking about.”

  Lekauf hesitated, then said, “I believe they have, yes. GAG was scheduled to take her out on a short shakedown.”

  “Then contact Crix Base and tell them to delay the Anakin’s departure,” Luke said. If Lumiya was working with GAG, then she was working with Jacen, too. “My son is not going anywhere with Colonel Solo. Do you understand?”

  Lekauf’s only reply was a nervous silence.

  “He asked if you understood!” Mara snapped.

  “I understand, ma’am,” Lekauf said. “But I’m afraid what Grand Master Skywalker asks is impossible. The Anakin left for Hapes an hour ago.”

  “Hapes?” Luke asked. He felt Mara take his comlink from his belt—since he was still speaking to Lekauf on hers—then saw her slip away to start making arrangements to follow. “Did I hear you correctly?”

  “You did,” Lekauf confirmed. “Apparently, the terrorists have attempted to assassinate Queen Mother Tenel Ka. She’s requested Colonel Solo’s aid in rooting them out.”

  Luke fell silent for a moment, trying to decide whether Lekauf was telling the truth or trying to throw him off the track of some other operation.

  “Your son will be safe, sir,” Lekauf said. “He’s very well trained. I’ve worked with him myself.”

  Seeing that he had little choice at the moment but to accept what Lekauf was telling him, Luke said, “This had better be the truth, Corporal.”

  “It is, sir.” Lekauf paused, then added in a reassuring tone, “Colonel Solo took a quarter of GAG along. I’d be with them myself, except I’m on desk duty because I twisted my knee a couple of days ago.”

  “Very well.”

  Luke glanced back at Raatu and Tozr, who were still staring at the last message on the wall screen and having a hissed debate about what they should do.

  “There was an accidental attempt to access GAG files from your safehouse on the three hundredth floor of Zorp House,” Luke said. “I’d like you to ignore it.”

  “Consider it done,” Lekauf said. “And don’t worry about your son. He’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so, Corporal.”

  Luke closed the channel and turned to find Mara already talking on the comlink she had taken from him.

  “… hangar in twenty minutes,” she was saying. “I want the Shadow prepped and ready to go.”

  chapter eleven

  Jacen stood at the viewport of the Anakin Solo’s Command Salon, staring out at the cloud-mottled face of the planet Hapes. It was a world of splendor and abundance, covered in sparkling oceans and verdant islands, but Jacen was too troubled to enjoy looking at it. Someone had tried to kill Tenel Ka and his daughter, Allana. His hands were shaking and his stomach was knotted, and as he awaited the arrival of their shuttle his thoughts kept careening back and forth between fantasies of mass vengeance and eruptions of self-reproach.

  Jacen knew he could not be Allana’s first line of defense. So far, his relationship to her remained secret. If he spent too much time at the Fountain Palace, Tenel Ka’s nobles would begin to suspect that the heir to the Hapan throne had been fathered by a Jedi foreigner, and that would only endanger Allana further. Besides, Tenel Ka was more than capable of protecting their four-year-old daughter, and he could not give up his anti-terrorism work back on Coruscant without letting the whole galaxy suffer.

  But Jacen could not help feeling guilty and frightened. Every instinct in him wanted to send Allana away to be raised somewhere safe—perhaps among the Fallanassi or Jensaarai. Only the experiences of his own childhood, which had proven again and again how fallible such strategies could be, prevented him from considering it.

  That—and the fact that no place was truly safe. Jacen had spent most of his life trying to bring peace to a brutal and chaotic galaxy, and matters only seemed to be growing worse. There was always some unseen war about to spill over from the next system, some hate-filled demagogue ready to slay billions to assure the “greater good.” Sometimes Jacen wondered if he was having any effect at all, if the galaxy would not have been just as well served had he never returned to the Jedi and remained among the Aing-Tii, meditating on the Force.

  As Jacen contemplated this, the Hapan oceans began to sparkle more brightly. Some of the sparkles steadied into lights and began to shine in a hundred lustrous colors. Others turned red or gold and began to blink at regular intervals. They flowed together into narrow bands and began to circle the planet, like the rivers of flowing traffic that had once girdled Coruscant.

  Jacen took three deep breaths, exhaling slowly after each, and consciously stilling his mind. While he could not yet summon Force-visions on command, he had learned to welcome them when they came. They were a manifestation of his unity with the Force, a sign of his growing power, and the increasing frequency with which they came reassured him that he would succeed, that he was strong enough to hold the galaxy together.

  On the planet below, the island rain forests darkened to a deep, night-colored purple. Two white dots began to glow up from the heart of one of the shadowy islands, and Jacen found himself staring into the spots. They were larger and brighter than any of the lights on the oceans, and the longer he looked, the more they resembled eyes—white, blazing eyes staring up at him from a well of darkness.

  A few wisps of cloud drifted across the face of the shadowy island, creating the impression of a lopsided mouth and a spectral face.

  The mouth rose at the corners. “Mine.”

  The words were breathy and cold and rife with dark side power … and the voice was familiar. It sounded like Jacen’s. He leaned closer to the viewport, studying the wispy features below, trying to decide whether he was seeing his own face.


  But the clouds were not cooperating. The wisps drifted into a new arrangement, and a lumpy brow appeared above the eyes. The cheeks grew sunken and smashed, while the mouth became gaping and twisted. Then the entire face began to expand, drawing a veil of shadow over the rest of the planet and dimming its sea of scintillating lights.

  The mouth rose at one corner, and the smile became a sneer. “Mine.”

  This time, the voice was too low and harsh to be Jacen’s. He felt relieved, since the mangled face could not be a vision of his future if the voice did not belong to him.

  The shadowy head continued to expand, swelling beyond the edges of the planet and engulfing the Hapan moons. The face became long and gaunt, its features now defined by patterns of the half-obscured light shining through from the surface of the planet.

  “Mine.”

  This time the word was crisp and commanding, and the head continued to grow, becoming round and coarse. It swelled beyond what Jacen could see through his viewport, dimming the stars to all sides of Hapes and engulfing—as far as he could tell—the entire known galaxy. Most of the face vanished into unrecognizable patterns of light and shadow, but the eyes remained, expanding into a pair of blazing white suns.

  “Mine!”

  The white eyes flashed out of existence with all the brilliance of a pair of exploding novas, and Jacen felt as if an incendiary grenade had detonated in his head. He let out an involuntary groan and whirled away, hands clamped to his face.

  But his head did not explode. The pain vanished as quickly it had arrived, and when he pulled his hands away, it was to find himself staring down at the reassuring pearliness of the Command Salon’s luxurious resicrete deck covering. There weren’t even any spots swimming before his eyes.

  “I hope that expression doesn’t mean you left something back on Coruscant,” Lumiya said. She was sitting across the spacious cabin at Jacen’s equipment-packed intelligence station, poring over the latest data on Tenel Ka’s unpredictable nobles. “We have an opportunity to position you as the savior of the Galactic Alliance—but only if we move fast.”

  “Positioning me isn’t what matters here.” Jacen did not want Lumiya to see how shaken he was—at least not until he understood what the Force was trying to tell him. “Catching the terrorists who attacked the Queen Mother—that’s important. Making certain it doesn’t happen again—that matters.”