by Troy Denning
Leia closed her eyes, then tipped her head back. “I can,” she said, smiling. “Lando is there, and Ben.”
“Where?” Han looked up and saw only a patch of gray sky through the canopy of neatly ordered trees. “I don’t see anything.”
“Don’t see, Han,” Luke said. “Feel.”
“I’ll try,” Han said. “But without the Force—”
“You don’t need the Force in here,” Luke said. “But there is no try, Han. There is only doing.”
Han rolled his eyes and muttered, “Easy for you Jedi to say.”
Still, he closed his eyes and began to focus on feeling the open sky. To his surprise, he experienced a sense of peace … which quickly blossomed into full-blown contentment.
He heard Lando’s voice somewhere above, asking, “Are you sure you felt your father reaching out for you? I don’t see anything.”
“Hey, Lando!” Han called. “Down here!”
He opened his eyes and saw that the terrain had shifted under their feet. Now they were standing in a small courtyard with black stone paving and a dry fountain in the center. About five meters above their heads, peering down from among the branches along the edge of the courtyard, was the smiling face of Lando Calrissian.
“Han, old buddy,” Lando called, “is that you?”
Ben’s face appeared beside Lando’s. “Dad?”
Luke stepped to Han’s side, opposite Leia, and grabbed Han’s arm. “It’s time,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Han said.
He took Leia’s hand and squeezed it tight, and together they all started forward. As they advanced, the fountain suddenly began to jet water, and the surrounding trees rustled in the wind. Han felt every cell in his body start to sizzle, then his stomach dropped as though he were riding the fastest turbolift in the galaxy, shooting up into the sky.
The next thing he knew, all three of them were back on Base Prime, walking across the stasis circle toward the balcony, where Lando and Ben stood at the railing, staring at them in openmouthed surprise.
Han exchanged relieved glances with Luke and Leia. “Man,” he said, pulling them over to the balcony. “That was a trip.”
Lando and Ben stooped down to reach beneath the railing and pull everyone to safety.
“Welcome back!” Lando cried. He wrapped one arm around Han and the other around Leia, crushing them in a perfect imitation of a Wookiee hug. “You two really had me worried this time.”
“Uh, thank you, Lando,” Leia said, trying—and failing—to extract herself from his hug. “We were a little worried ourselves.”
“Is everyone okay?” Lando finally let go and stepped back to inspect them. A concerned look came to his face, and he asked, “You do know you’re glowing, don’t you?”
Han looked down and saw that Lando was right. His skin was still shining with the same golden light that had permeated him inside the monolith. But at least his body looked right again—or close enough. His injured leg was completely normal, and the only sign of his belly wound was what looked like an old burn scar.
“Yeah, and glowing isn’t the half of it,” Han said. “Maybe we should head for the Falcon’s medbay and get the heck off this monolith.”
Han looked up to find Lando studying the scar on his stomach with an expression of bewilderment.
“Hey,” Han said. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”
“Uh, sorry,” Lando said. “But that burn scar looks at least a year old, and you’ve only been gone a few hours. What the blazes happened in there?”
“Long story,” Leia said, taking him by the arm. “We’ll tell you all about it back on the Falcon.”
“Which can’t be soon enough for me,” Ben put in. “We’re done here. We’ve recovered all the data from this place that we’re ever going to get—though I don’t know how anyone will ever make sense of it. This stuff is way above my head.”
“We’ll worry about that later,” Luke said. “First I want to be sure nobody ever uses this base—or these labs—again.”
“The charges are already set,” Ben replied. “And we placed the thermal detonators in the gate. Once they go off, it will be impossible to tell there was ever anything here.”
“And we have quite a few concussion missiles left,” Lando added. “By the time we leave, the only thing left of Base Prime is going to be its heat signature.”
“Good,” Leia said. “But we can’t stop there. We also need to prevent anyone from using the monolith again.”
“You mean anyone like Vestara,” Ben said.
“I mean anyone,” Leia said. “Which means we have to stop them from finding it. Maybe we should save a few missiles and take out the repeater beacons inside the Bubble.”
Han cocked a brow. “The Bubble?”
“The Bubble of the Lost,” Leia explained. “I’ll explain more about it later, but it’s enough to say the Bubble is the reason the monolith is so hard to find.”
“Right, and the harder it is to navigate the blasted thing, the better,” Lando said. “Taking out the repeater beacons is a good idea. And Omad has some thoughts on an early-warning system we can deploy around the perimeter.”
Luke nodded his approval. “Good. We can talk about that on the way out.” He turned back to Ben. “Now, what’s the situation with our team? Everybody all right?”
“Affirmative,” Ben said. “We lost all but one of Lando’s battle droids, but Base Prime has been cleared and secured. Omad and Tahiri are both aboard the Falcon, taking care of Ohali—and keeping an eye on Dena Yus.”
“Dena is still alive?” Leia asked. “I didn’t think she was going to make it.”
“She found the formula for her enzymes.” Ben turned to Luke. “But I’m not so sure that’s a good thing. How do we handle someone who helped kill thirty thousand miners? She has to answer for that.”
Luke considered this a moment, then nodded. “She does, but what that means isn’t something to be decided right now.” He paused and looked around. “Not here. Why don’t you and Tahiri take her back to the Jedi Council? They can pass judgment.”
“What do you mean, they?” Ben asked. “Aren’t you coming back with us?”
Luke shook his head. “Not for a while.” He started across the balcony, motioning for the others to follow. “I need some time.”
“Time?” Ben’s voice grew worried. “For what?”
“For myself.” Luke paused and rested a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I’ve been leading the Jedi for forty years, son. I think it’s time for a change.”
Ben looked as if he thought his father had gone mad. “A change? What’s wrong?”
Luke laughed. “Ben, stop worrying. I’m fine.”
They’d reached the security ring. Han started to cross toward the hatch that led into the biot lab.
“Whoa!” Ben used the Force to pull Han’s hand away from the control. “You don’t want to open that. The automatic filtration and nourishment systems were destroyed during the assault, so it’s pretty ripe in there.”
Han thought of the dozens of biots he had seen inside the lab, and he didn’t know whether to feel relieved or sad. Mostly he was glad that the monsters who had created them would never have a chance to build another one.
“We’ll go through the residence,” Ben said, pointing toward a blown hatch about a quarter of the way around the security ring. “It smells a whole lot better.”
Ben led the group into a chromalloy corridor that Han had not traveled before. The bodies had all been cleared away, but the halls were so pocked and battle-scarred that it was a wonder the walls were still standing.
As they advanced up the passage, Ben fell in beside his father.
“So, Dad, if you’re not coming back, what do I tell the Masters about this place?” he asked. “Is it the Mortis Monolith?”
Luke shook his head. “The truth is, I don’t know. But if Mortis was ever here, I don’t think it is a
nymore,” he said. “The Force inside the monolith was too raw, and there was no hint of Balance.”
“Any sign of the Ones?” Ben asked. “Or that Anakin and Obi-Wan were there?”
Again, Luke shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “In fact, I don’t even think we should assume that this is the same monolith Anakin and Obi-Wan visited.”
Han frowned. “Come on,” he said. “How many monoliths can there be?”
“Who knows?” Luke asked. “The galaxy is a vast place. There could be dozens of monoliths, or thousands … or just the one. The point is, we have no way of knowing—and it really doesn’t matter, because Mortis isn’t here. At least, not now.”
“Fair enough,” Han said. “But if this isn’t Mortis, then what is it?”
Luke shrugged. “You saw what the Qrephs were using this place for,” he said. “After that, I’m not sure any mortal should know what this place is.”
“Nice dodge,” Leia said. “But the question remains, Luke. Do you know what it is?”
Luke met her gaze and smiled. “I’m still mortal, Leia,” he said. “The monolith didn’t change that.”
Epilogue
With a lone Twi’lek onstage singing light-and-easy raboa tunes to a handful of listeners, the Red Ronto seemed almost sleepy compared to Leia’s last visit. A furry-faced Bothan sat alone in the far corner, blowing hookah smoke into a filtration vent in the wall. A gang of hangar mechanics nursed drinks after a midafternoon shift change. Even the bartender looked relaxed, leaning against his pipe-swaddled swill dispenser with all four arms folded across his chest.
At the moment, there was no place Leia would rather be. She and Han were sitting in the same booth where they had first met Omad Kaeg nearly three months ago. Omad was here again, too, crowded around the table with Tahiri, Ohali, Ben, Luke, and—best of all—Jaina and Jag. They were all joking and laughing and paying no attention at all to the curious glances from the cantina’s other patrons. And Lando was just returning from the bar, carrying their second bottle of Corellian Reserve.
“So, are you sure Mirta Gev got away?” Han was asking no one in particular. “She couldn’t have been moving very fast. I cut up her leg pretty bad.”
“What can I say?” Tahiri replied. She was sitting between Jaina and Omad. “Ben and I covered every centimeter of Base Prime while we were setting the demolition charges. Gev wasn’t there.”
“I’m betting she escaped with Vestara,” said Ben, who was sitting next to his father. “I saw both of them retreating into the Qrephs’ residence right after we breached the wall. After that, there was no sign of them.”
“Great,” Han muttered. “A Mandalorian teaming up with a Sith. Now they both qualify for blast on sight.”
“Maybe,” Leia said. She laid her hand on Han’s knee and gave it a squeeze to calm his nerves. “But that’s not going to be our problem. Remember?”
The storm clouds drained from Han’s face, and he flashed his most endearing cockeyed grin.
“Of course I remember,” he said. “It’s the best plan ever: you, me, and the Falcon, with all the time in the Void and about a thousand galactic wonders to see. How could I forget?”
“You’re really going to do it?” Lando asked, opening the Reserve and starting to pour another round. “Han and Leia Solo, retire?”
Leia felt Han tense up again, just a little, and she gave his knee another squeeze. So far, he had been doing a good job of pretending the torture sessions on Base Prime were “no big deal.” But she knew he was hurting, both inside and out, and he needed time to recover.
As a matter of fact, so did she. If the journey into the monolith had taught her anything, it was how incredible Han truly was. For over four decades, he had been keeping up with her and the rest of the Jedi without the Force. But he couldn’t do that forever. No one could. Sooner or later, Han would start to slow down. And before that happened, the Solos deserved some time alone—like normal people. She let Lando’s question hang for a moment, until all eyes at the table began to turn toward her.
“Well, retire might be overstating it,” she said. “But we’re definitely taking a leave.”
“As long as you stay in touch,” Jagged Fel said, “and do a better job of it than you did out here. Jaina was sick with worry when you didn’t report back for so long.”
“Don’t exaggerate.” Jaina punched him lightly in the shoulder. “I wasn’t sick.”
Jag grinned. “Not once we decided to come investigate,” he said. “But before that …”
“Well, I am very glad you came,” Omad said to them both. “It will be good to have your help setting the new security beacons around the Bubble. It’s not exactly my area of expertise.”
“It’s our pleasure, Omad,” Jaina said. “And it’s as much for the Jedi’s sake as the Rift’s. Besides, after all the help you gave Luke and my parents, it’s the least we could do.”
“It was nothing,” Omad said, giving a dismissive wave. “And I owed your parents for backing me up against Scarn and his Nargons.”
Lando finished pouring, then picked up his own glass and turned to Luke.
“How about you, Grand Master?” he asked. “Are you still planning to have Ben and Tahiri take Dena back to the Jedi Council?”
Luke nodded. “As long as you and the miners’ cooperative still agree,” he said. “She needs to atone for her crimes somehow, but just what that means is a difficult question. The Council will have the wisdom to find an answer.”
“And, in the meantime, Master Cilghal will get a chance to study a living biot up close,” Tahiri added. “I don’t think we should assume that all the Qrephs’ biot spies are going to die off. Some may have found a way to fabricate their own enzymes. Life will out, after all.”
“I agree,” Ohali said. “It’s even possible that some of the biots don’t need enzymes. The Qrephs were always experimenting.”
“Good points,” Luke said. “Be sure to mention them in your briefing to the Council.”
“We will,” Ohali said.
Lando started to lift his glass for a toast, but Ben raised a hand to stop him.
“Wait. You’re still dodging the big question, Dad,” Ben said. “If you’re not coming back with us, then where are you going?”
Luke’s expression remained patient. “I thought I explained that.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “A retreat, Dad? Really?” He shook his head. “I’m not buying it. If you think you can go after Vestara Khai without me—”
“I’m not,” Luke interrupted. “I just need some time away.”
Ben scowled, still doubtful. “And what about the Jedi?” he asked. “How do you expect the Order to get along without its Grand Master?”
Leia saw Luke’s gaze flicker from Ben to Tahiri and Jaina, then to Ohali and herself—from the youngest generation of modern Jedi to the eldest—and she felt the calm that came to him in the Force. Luke had done his work well. The Jedi Order was strong and vigorous. The time had come for him to step out of the way, to let his creation grow into something larger than himself.
After a moment, Luke looked back to his son.
“Ben, I’ve been away for months now. You’ve read the same Council reports that I have. Did you see anything to suggest that the Jedi Order can’t get along without me for a while?”
Ben furrowed his brow. “Well, no,” he said. “But … I still don’t understand it. You aren’t going all Yoda on me, are you?”
Luke chuckled. “Going Yoda?” he repeated. “Would that be so bad?”
Ben thought about that, then shrugged. “Only if you expect me to visit you in a swamp,” he said. “Otherwise, I guess I’ll deal with it.”
Luke grinned and clasped his son’s shoulder. “In that case, I’ll be sure to avoid swamps. Now, how about we let Lando make his toast?”
Ben smiled and picked up his glass. “Sure thing.” He turned to Lando. “Sorry to hold things up.”
Lando returned the smile. “No w
orries, Ben. Nobody gets between me and my Corellian Reserve.”
He started to raise his glass again—then Ohali asked, “What about you, Lando? Are you going to retire?”
Lando’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Me? Not in this lifetime. I do intend to go home and see Tendra and Chance, but I’ll be back to rebuild the Sarnus Refinery.”
He raised his glass again, then looked around the table. “Now?”
Leia nodded and raised her glass, as did everyone else.
“Thank you.” Lando held his glass out toward the center of the table, then said, “To good friends.”
There followed a moment of silence. Jaina frowned. “That’s it?” she asked. “After all that buildup, that’s your big toast?”
Lando put a hand on his chest, feigning injury. “I thought it was simple and eloquent.” Then he winked at her. “How about this: to good friends, good times, and new journeys.”
They all extended their arms and clinked glasses.
“To new journeys,” Luke repeated. “And may the Force be with us all.”
About the Author
TROY DENNING is the New York Times bestselling author of the Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi novels: Abyss, Vortex, and Apocalypse; Star Wars: Tatooine Ghost; Star Wars: The New Jedi Order: Star by Star; the Star Wars: Dark Nest trilogy: The Joiner King, The Unseen Queen, and The Swarm War; and Star Wars: Legacy of the Force: Tempest, Inferno, and Invincible—as well as Pages of Pain, Beyond the High Road, The Summoning, and many other novels. A former game designer and editor, he lives in western Wisconsin with his wife, Andria.
Read on for an excerpt from
Star Wars: Kenobi
by John Jackson Miller
Published by Del Rey Books
“It’s time for you to go home, sir.”
Wyle Ulbreck woke up and looked at his empty glass. “What’s that you say?”
The green-skinned bartender prodded the old human on the shoulder. “I said it’s time for you to go home, Master Ulbreck. You’ve had enough.”
“That ain’t what I meant,” Ulbreck said, rubbing the crust from his bloodshot eyes. “You called me ‘sir.’ And then ‘Master.’ ” He leered suspiciously at the barkeep. “Are you an organic—or a droid?”
