by Watson, Jude
Copyright © 2004 Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or TM. All rights reserved.
Cover art by Alicia Buelow and David Mattingly
Published by Disney • Lucasfilm Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney Press, 1101 Flower Street, Glendale, California 91201.
ISBN 978-1-4847-1985-5
Visit www.starwars.com
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
About the Author
Chapter One
“Power cell?”
“Check.”
“Reserve?”
“Check.”
“Blade crystals?”
A glowing shaft buzzed to life.
“All check,” Tru Veld said. He turned his lightsaber around, looking at the flame-colored ray. It gave his silvery skin a rosy tint.
“I adjusted the flux aperture for you and rebalanced the handle,” Anakin Skywalker told him.
“Feels great.” Tru deactivated the lightsaber and tucked it into his belt. “Thanks. I may have built this lightsaber, but you sure keep it humming.” Tru looked down at his utility belt. “Liquid cable—check. Comlink—check. Aquata breather—check. And…” Tru reached into a small slit in his belt and withdrew a small bag. He swung it in the air. “Mmmm…some Terratta to eat on the ride.”
“Check.” Anakin caught the snack Tru tossed to him and popped it in his mouth. “Obviously, you’ve thought of everything.”
The two teenage Padawans eased down on the floor and passed the food back and forth. They had checked each piece of equipment five times now. They knew everything was functional, but they kept on checking. Routine kept their nerves steady.
Many Jedi now had to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Throughout the Temple, Jedi Knights were finishing up last-minute assignments and gathering their gear for new ones. Apprentices said good-bye to friends and fellow learners. Information was uploaded onto datascreens. Starfighters and cruisers were standing by, ready and fueled.
Just days before, there had been an attack on the Senate. Twenty-one Senators had been killed, along with twenty-four aides and guards. The numbers would have been higher if the Jedi had not been alerted. Even Supreme Chancellor Palpatine had been in danger. His life had been saved by Ferus Olin, Tru and Anakin’s fellow apprentice.
The attacks had been carried out by Granta Omega and Jenna Zan Arbor, notorious galactic criminals. Yet the Jedi Council believed that a Sith was the real power behind the terrible plan and the Senate feared that this first attack was only the beginning of a much wider plot. They did not want to simply wait for the next attack. The idea was to spread a wide net, check out old sources of information, and develop new ones to lure in and trap the criminals.
Chancellor Palpatine urged restraint. Galactic politics were volatile, and he needed a period of calm to steady the mood of the Senate, which had grown ugly since the attack. He cautioned the Jedi to be discreet.
Whatever the next step, Anakin felt confident that he would be involved. His Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, had been the first Jedi to warn the Council about Granta Omega’s plans. His Master knew the evil villain better than anyone, and he would be on the team sent to bring Omega to justice. Tru was hoping that he and his Master, Ry-Gaul, would be sent as well.
Suddenly a head peeked around the corner of Anakin’s quarters. “Terratta strips? And nobody invited me?” Darra Thel-Tanis held out a hand and the bag sailed into it, with the help of the Force.
“Show off,” Tru said, grinning.
Darra slid down onto the floor next to her friends. She chewed on the candy with vigorous appreciation. Darra did everything with gusto. She had always been a vivid presence among the apprentices, with the bright bits of fabric she weaved through her auburn Padawan braid and her wisecracking manner.
But Anakin could feel a new maturity in her, a hardened sense of purpose. Ever since she’d been wounded on Haariden, she seemed to carry a sense of gravity along with her humor. She’d told Anakin that the incident had brought death so close that she’d made friends with it. The remark had been a joke, but a joke that vibrated with a seriousness Anakin had trouble accepting. He sometimes wanted the old Darra back, whose jokes were simply jokes, not keys to her own sorrows.
“Something’s up,” Darra said. “Your Masters are both in the Council room.”
This was news to Anakin and Tru. They exchanged a glance.
“Soara is in there, too,” Darra continued, speaking of her own Master. “I have a feeling we’ll be leaving the Temple before the day is out.” She stretched out her legs. “I’m ready.”
“Was Siri Tachi there?” Tru asked.
“I saw her go in with Ferus,” Darra said, nodding.
“With Ferus?” Anakin asked. A jolt of jealousy made him straighten. “Why is Ferus there when we’re not?”
Darra shrugged. “They asked for him. Rumors are going around—something about the apprentices. I don’t know what.”
“But why is Ferus there?” Anakin asked again.
Darra shot him a curious look. “Do I look like a Council member? Moons and stars, I hope I’m not that grim. You’re just going to have to wait and find out.”
“I don’t think it will be long,” Tru said, trying to reassure Anakin. Tru was Anakin’s best friend, and he knew that Anakin and Ferus had clashed in the past. Although they got along better now, there was still a rivalry between them.
Just then, all three of their comlinks buzzed at the same time.
Darra consulted her message. “Well, whatever it is, we’re about to find out.”
Anakin was used to standing in the Council room by now. He wasn’t nervous, the way he’d been as a ten-year-old refugee from Tatooine. He was almost nineteen now, close to being a Jedi Knight. Yet still, this time something was different. He felt a heavy presence in the room. The Council members sat in their various chairs, waiting for the three Padawans to step forward next to their Masters. Usually Anakin could count on a nod or a smile from a Council member or two, but today everyone looked, as Darra had said, grim. He felt the Force in the room, humming underneath and through them. He imagined that this concentration of energy was similar to what a war council might feel like.
Ferus stood to one side, next to Siri. He did not look at Anakin, or at the other Padawans. Something trickled down Anakin’s neck, a foreboding he didn’t want to name. Suddenly he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.
“And now, to begin,” Mace Windu said, once the Padawans had taken their places. “First, the Council wishes to apologize to Master Kenobi, who has warned us many times of the danger of Granta Omega. We did not take the warnings as seriously as they were given. You were right, Obi-Wan. Omega should have been our first priority. He is now.”
Obi-Wan nodded.
> “You will be the first Jedi coalition to go after him,” Mace said, looking at each of the Masters and Padawans in turn. “You may contact the Temple at any time to ask for any degree of help or any number of Jedi to join you. We leave these decisions to you. The Council feels that there is Sith involvement, but to what degree we do not know. Therefore we urge each of you to weigh every move you make with care.”
Mace steepled his fingers together. “We have located Granta Omega and Jenna Zan Arbor.”
Anakin saw his Master give a start.
“They are on Korriban.”
Anakin felt the dread in the room. He knew of Korriban only through legends. Thousands of years before, it had been the seat of Sith power. The tombs of the ancient Sith Lords were there, and it was still a source of the dark side of the Force. It was a place no Jedi wanted to go.
“Of course,” Obi-Wan said. “He has strived to be noticed by the Sith, and at last he has succeeded. Now he goes for his reward.”
“Whatever that may be,” Mace agreed. “Certainly protection is part of it.” Mace’s intense gaze moved from Tru to Darra until it came to rest on Anakin. “And now we come to a piece of news for the Padawans. Because of our concern for the state of the galaxy and evidence that the dark side of the Force is gathering, the Council has made a decision to speed up the process of apprentices becoming Jedi Knights.”
Anakin found it difficult to keep his face neutral as excitement surged through him. He knew what was coming. He was going to be allowed to undertake the trials!
He was ready. He was more than ready.
“This is a major decision, and so we have decided to proceed cautiously, with one test case,” Mace went on.
Anakin’s heart swelled. Of course it would be him. He was the Chosen One, the one with the greatest skills, the greatest Force connection.
“After much discussion, and consultation with all Jedi Masters, the Council has chosen Ferus Olin as the first Padawan to undergo the trials. After this mission, he will begin the trials.”
For a moment, Anakin heard nothing, just a blank where his name should have been. The words Ferus Olin seemed to have no meaning, like they were part of a language he hadn’t learned. That was how unreal it felt.
He wanted to move, wanted to cry out. This couldn’t be true! It couldn’t be happening!
He glanced at his Master. Obi-Wan was looking at Yoda.
“We want to make it clear that our decision, while unanimous, doesn’t reflect on any Padawan’s fitness to be a Jedi Knight. We believe in each of you. Yet we had to choose someone, and this is a way to begin. You will each be ready in your own time.”
My time is now! Anakin wanted to shout. Disbelief and anger coursed through him.
Mace rose. “The ships are ready for your journey to Korriban. May the Force be with you.”
Anakin did not know how he was going to get out of the room without exploding. His emotions were too wild to control. It was only by hanging on to the habit of a life of discipline that he was able to turn and follow his Master out of the room. Ahead of him strode Ferus, the thick gold stripe in his hair catching the light of the glow rods overhead. First out of the Council room. First on the list.
Ferus.
Chapter Two
“Don’t say anything,” Obi-Wan said in a low tone. “Follow me.”
Anakin’s face was hot. He followed his Master through the hallway and onto the turbolift. He watched the levels count off as he slowed his breaths, fighting for control.
Obi-Wan led the way out of the turbolift and into the Room of the Thousand Fountains. Anakin knew his Master had chosen this site deliberately. The soft splash of the fountains were a calming aid to all Jedi. The room smelled of green growth, and the refracted light of the water gave the air a soft radiance.
None of this worked to calm him. He wanted to fight against it.
“How did it happen?” Anakin asked, as soon as he was sure they were alone. “How could it happen? I don’t understand!”
“Anakin, of course you’re disappointed,” Obi-Wan said. “It is natural to want to be first.”
“I am first!” Anakin exploded. “I was always first in my class. First in lightsaber training. First in the Force.”
Obi-Wan frowned. “There is no such thing. We don’t rank students at the Temple.”
“That is what is said,” Anakin answered. “But it’s not the reality, and you know it.”
Obi-Wan took a breath. “How good you are is not the point.”
“What makes Ferus better?”
“That is not the point either. The fact is he is ready!” Obi-Wan’s voice was raised, and that didn’t happen very often. Anakin could see that he was pushing his Master to the limit.
But he couldn’t stop. Not on something that was this important to him. “I’m ready!” he insisted. “I’m just as ready as he is.”
“That is something you cannot know,” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head. “It is not for the Padawan to know. It is for the Master and the Council.”
Obi-Wan’s words stopped Anakin in his tracks. A sudden knowledge seared his brain.
“You agreed with them,” he said. “You voted for Ferus!”
“It was not a vote…” Obi-Wan began.
“You agreed—”
“It was a discussion,” Obi-Wan interrupted. “To which all Masters were invited.”
“You’re not answering me.”
Obi-Wan paused. “Yes. I agreed with the Council’s choice.”
Anakin felt as though he had received a sharp prod from an electrojabber.
“Anakin.” Obi-Wan made a move to put his hands on Anakin’s shoulders, but did not actually touch him, knowing somehow that Anakin would push him off. “This is not about your skills, your commitment, or your abilities. This is about whether you are ready. There is a difference.”
“You don’t think I’m ready.” Anakin could hear how wooden his voice sounded.
“I think Ferus is. That does not mean I think he will make a better Jedi. It only means that I think he is ready now.”
Ferus had manipulated them. Ferus had somehow made this happen. He had voiced his doubts about Anakin aloud, sometimes in front of his Master, and somehow he had corrupted their opinions of him. Anakin’s fury grew until it was something wild, something he did not know if he could contain. He looked at his Master, and suddenly Obi-Wan was a stranger to him.
“I can feel your anger,” Obi-Wan said. “Take care.”
He did not want to take care. He wanted to punch something.
“Your focus on who gets to be Master first is only reinforcing the rightness of the Council’s decision,” Obi-Wan went on. “You’re treating this like a contest. You are not emotionally ready to be a Jedi. Decisions like this must be accepted.”
“You do not need to quote Jedi teachings,” Anakin said through his teeth. “I know them well. Better even than Ferus, though that doesn’t seem to make a difference.”
Obi-Wan’s face was tight. “You need a little time to compose yourself. We can discuss this further if you like. I’ll leave you now.”
Obi-Wan turned away. His shoulders were tense. He took a few steps, then relented. He turned back.
“I believe in you, Anakin,” he said.
Anakin had turned, too, and now kept his back to his Master. He could not answer him. He could only think of Ferus. After a moment, he heard Obi-Wan leave the room.
Ferus had plotted. Ferus had beaten him. Ferus had won.
And now he had to work with him on this mission. He had to help Ferus achieve what he, Anakin, deserved. He imagined Ferus’s smug face as he accepted the praise of the Council. As he took his place as a Jedi Knight. He imagined Ferus as a Knight and himself still a Padawan.
It can’t happen that way.
Anakin took his anger and focused it. For a moment, the water from the many fountains around him hung suspended in the air. He used the Force to keep the water frozen in midair, just to
prove he could do it. The silence filled his ears. Then he let it fall, all the fountains gushing, trickling, racing once again. The noise seemed enormous now, a torrent. As though he could hear every drop of water hit every pebble.
Anakin felt a surge of power. This was only a part of what he was capable of. Soon they would all know it. He would show them that they had made a serious mistake. He should be the first apprentice to move up to Jedi Knight. He knew it. And soon everyone else would know it, too.
He would make them know it.
Chapter Three
The Jedi assembled in the vast hangar in front of the two Republic cruisers they would take to Korriban. They split up the teams, with Siri and Obi-Wan in one cruiser with their Padawans, Soara and Ry-Gaul and their Padawans in the other. That way, the two best pilots in the group—Anakin and Ry-Gaul—would be in different ships.
Obi-Wan wished it could be otherwise. He didn’t think it wise to put Anakin and Ferus together in a small cruiser until Anakin had cooled down. He had no choice, however; every decision they made from now on could be a crucial one. They had to think every step through. It was entirely possible that they would be attacked on the journey. They couldn’t take anything for granted anymore.
While Anakin and Ry-Gaul did a flight check on their vehicles, Obi-Wan studied his fellow Jedi. It had been six years since they had all been together on a mission. The past years had been long and hard, and they all looked more focused, more intent, than they had all those years before when they went to patrol the Galactic Games.
Obi-Wan knew that Tru and Ry-Gaul had been on a series of highly dangerous missions and that Soara and Darra were recently caught in the middle of a fierce interplanetary war. He saw the changes in all the Padawans, how their faces reflected the seriousness of their purpose and the things they had seen. He saw in them the same recognition that he had once faced, as he had come to the end of his years of apprenticeship. You started out as a Padawan thinking you would lead a life of service and adventure, and you pictured your successes to come, not your failures. Successes could be daydreamed about in a vague way, but failures were more particular. They couldn’t be envisioned. With the years you accumulated not only satisfactions but also disappointments and heartbreaking losses. Imprinted in your memory were things you wished you had not seen. The Jedi path was more complicated than you’d ever dreamed as you polished your lightsaber hilt and yearned to be chosen.
