by Watson, Jude
Siri was leaner, if that was possible. Her edge was sharper. Obi-Wan saw less of her humor and more of her frustration.
Ry-Gaul’s bleached gray eyes seemed even paler, as if his experiences had leached out the color. Now they were almost white. He spoke even less now. When Obi-Wan had asked him about it, Ry-Gaul had fixed his moon-colored eyes on him and said, “There is less to say.”
Soara Antana, oddly, had grown softer, almost tender, with Darra. Darra herself seemed the same, though the exuberance that danced in her unusual, rust-colored eyes would sometimes shift to a shadowy sadness.
And what of himself? What did his fellow Jedi think of him? He caught sight of his bearded face in the reflection of the windscreen. He was not old. He was younger than Qui-Gon had been when he took him on as a Padawan. Yet he felt old. In his bones, he felt a strange weariness. It was the concentration of all the effort he placed in vigilance. In watching. Waiting for something he could not name.
They all felt it. A gathering of the dark side of the Force. They held out their hands, pushing against the darkness, the chaos. They were tired, and they had so much farther to go.
And now, Anakin. He had to count on Anakin’s maturity, the integrity of his core. Anakin would forgive him for supporting Ferus. It had been difficult for Obi-Wan himself to admit that Ferus was the best candidate. Naturally he’d wanted Anakin to be chosen, but something had held him back. He couldn’t have done it if he hadn’t felt the times were too perilous for the Jedi to make a mistake.
In time, Anakin would find acceptance. Obi-Wan was confident this was so, because he knew Anakin so well. He knew that Anakin was struggling now, and he knew that he could not help him. He knew Anakin’s better side would win.
To Obi-Wan’s surprise, Yoda himself suddenly appeared, gliding in his repulsorlift chair from the turbolift. Obi-Wan walked forward quickly to greet him on the landing platform.
“Master Yoda, is something wrong?”
Yoda did not answer him. Instead, Obi-Wan watched as Yoda’s gray-blue eyes moved from one Jedi to another in turn, lingering on the faces of the Padawans.
“Felt I did that look upon you all before you left I must,” Yoda said. “And tell you…”
“Yes, Master?”
Another pause. Then Yoda leaned on his gimer stick and frowned. “Like Ry-Gaul, I have become. Nothing to say, I have.” Now he gazed with great affection at Obi-Wan. “What I would say, know you do already.”
And Obi-Wan did. A great dread lay inside Yoda. He needed to look at them in case they did not all come back. He needed to stand here and watch them go so they would know how deeply he felt for them. He wanted to see them off, see the last glint of sun on a wing as they flew.
Obi-Wan nodded.
“Checks completed,” Anakin called, and Ry-Gaul gave a thumbs-up.
The Jedi turned to board.
“May the Force be with you,” Yoda said. He lifted one three-fingered hand in good-bye.
Chapter Four
Obi-Wan sat in front of the nav computer. There was nothing to do; they had been in hyperspace for days now, and they were approaching Korriban within the Horuset system. He knew their position exactly, and how far they needed to go. Still he continued to check coordinates and try to foresee potential problems. It was what he’d always done, even as an apprentice. He found comfort in the routine of it.
The journey had passed without incident. Ferus had kept a delicate distance between himself and Anakin, delicate because he gave distance without seeming to. Obi-Wan appreciated this effort. Ferus had given Anakin space, and that was not easy on such a small cruiser.
Siri came up behind him. “If you check that space chart once more, you’re going to burn out the screen.”
Obi-Wan spun around in his chair. “It never hurts to triple check.”
“It hurts me,” Siri said. Her keen blue eyes glinted at him. “All that precision gives me the shivers.”
Obi-Wan grinned, then pressed the button for holo-mode. The star chart hovered in the air. “There it is,” he said, indicating Korriban. “So isolated that it makes up its own system. Marooned in space, as though the other planets have chosen to hide from it.”
Siri sat astride a chair, planting her hands on her knees. “Don’t be so poetic. It’s just a planet.”
“More than a planet,” Obi-Wan said, gazing at the chart. “A source of evil that still calls evil to come meet it.”
“I don’t believe that,” Siri said. “It’s just a place where some old Sith bones lie.”
“The Valley of the Dark Lords,” Obi-Wan said. They had heard of the valley from their earliest days as students at the Temple, had used tales of the valley to scare each other as younglings. “The dark side of the Force still lives in that valley. Korriban has never recovered from the Sith occupation. That was thousands of years ago, and yet the planet has never formed a government or attracted settlers. It’s not part of the galactic alliance. It has never joined the Senate.”
Siri rose to study the holo-chart more closely. “Even freighters won’t stop there,” she murmured. “And freighters stop everywhere.” As she moved to the opposite side of the chart, briefly, the image of Korriban was reflected on her face. She shuddered and moved away.
Siri sat back down opposite Obi-Wan. “The Commerce Guild has opened an office there,” she observed.
“They’re offering incentives to get corporations to open branches in the Dreshdae spaceport,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ve been studying the files. Of course it is a world with no taxes, and that’s a Commerce Guild issue, but it’s still strange.”
“They are just trying to gain influence on major corporations,” Siri said. “Keep them in their backyard so they can control them. It’s the same old dance.”
“But Korriban?” Obi-Wan mused. “There has to be a reason…the Sith might be behind it, even if the Commerce Guild doesn’t know it.”
Siri waved a hand. “Then they’ll get what they deserve.”
While they were talking, the Padawans slowly drifted closer to join the conversation.
“So who is living on Korriban?” Ferus now asked.
“Three types of beings,” Siri replied, checking them off on her fingers. “One, those who are forced to live there because of work. Two, those who have been stranded there. Three, those who choose to be there.”
“Those are the dangerous ones, no doubt,” Obi-Wan said.
“How are we going to find Omega?” Anakin asked. “Dreshdae isn’t large, but he and Zan Arbor will be in hiding. And Korriban is huge. They could be hiding out anywhere.”
“I don’t think he’s come to Korriban to hide,” Obi-Wan said. “He’s come for a reason. My guess is that he’s been invited. He’s succeeded in his goal—he’s attracted the notice of the Sith. He’s going there for his reward.”
“More wealth?” Siri asked. “He certainly doesn’t need it.”
“Maybe help with his next plan,” Ferus said. “He could need weapons, ships, droids…we don’t know.”
Obi-Wan nodded. “True.”
The instrument panel showed they were about to come out of hyperspace. It was time to enter the coordinates for landing at Dreshdae.
Obi-Wan drifted to the front of the cockpit and the others followed. They stood, looking out into dark space. There were few stars out here, and no planets. Korriban loomed in their vision, a large planet with blood-red clouds obscuring its surface.
“I’ve heard it called the cradle of darkness,” Obi-Wan said. He realized that he had lowered his voice.
He felt it now, the dark side of the Force emanating from the planet’s surface. Looking at the faces of the Jedi, he knew they felt it as well. It had a sick sweetness to it, something that seemed to pour through his veins, attracting and repelling him at once. It was the most complicated surge of the dark side he had ever felt.
He struggled to meet it, struggled to clear his mind.
Warily, Obi-Wan moved forward and entered
the coordinates into the nav computer. His fingers hesitated even as they entered the data. It was as though making the commitment to land was sealing their fate.
He stood and joined the other Jedi at the cockpit windscreen. They couldn’t turn away. The ship flew into the atmosphere, straight through the blood-red clouds, and dread entered their hearts as the surface of the planet grew closer.
Chapter Five
He would have to wear a mask. A mask of friendship. Anakin had decided this before he’d left the Temple. Ferus could never know his true feelings. He would defeat him without Ferus ever knowing they were in competition.
That had been his plan, but it was hard to follow through when faced with Ferus himself. Anakin could feel his resentment leaking out like a gas. It was only a question of time before he exploded.
No. I will prove I am a better Jedi. I will not explode in anger.
They flew over the planet, over mountain ranges and desert and deep canyons.
“Where is the Valley of the Dark Lords?” Ferus asked.
“Invisible from the air,” Obi-Wan told him. “The valley is narrow, a slit hidden in the mountains some distance from Dreshdae. Plus it is constantly under heavy cloud cover.”
“There’s the spaceport,” Siri said, as it loomed closer.
Dreshdae had been built on a plateau in the middle of the largest mountain range on the planet. From the air, the Jedi could see a huddle of buildings cramped together with no effort at orderly design.
The landing platform was deserted except for a small number of cruisers behind an energy fence. There was no one to check them in and no one to care. The landing area itself had been recently refurbished, but it had been a hasty job and already the platform was pitted and scarred.
Soara, Darra, Ry-Gaul, and Tru came over to Anakin’s ship once they had landed. The Masters huddled in the cockpit, going over some last-minute details. The Padawans stood on the ramp, looking out over the spaceport and preparing their equipment. Dreshdae looked as grim at ground level as it had from the air.
“Not exactly Belazura,” Darra said as she stuffed her thermal cape into her survival pack.
“I’ve seen worse,” Ferus said. “I hope.”
Ferus might have meant the remark as a joke, but Anakin took it as a challenge. Ferus was showing off again.
“We all have,” Anakin pointed out.
“I don’t think so,” Tru said. “I’d say we’ve finally made it to the worst the galaxy has to offer.” He said this cheerfully as he wound one flexible arm around his back to fasten the strap on his survival pack. As a Teevan, Tru could bend his limbs backward and twist them in surprising angles. It was one of the things that made him such an excellent fighter.
“I don’t think you’ll be finding any Terratta strips here,” Darra teased Tru. “I have a feeling we’ll be living on food capsules. I wouldn’t trust the food on this planet.”
“I never get the good planets,” Tru whined, making a comical face.
They were joking now, wanting to displace the odd tension they all felt.
“We’ve come a long way from the Galactic Games, that’s for certain,” Ferus said. “Remember how nervous we were on our early missions?”
“Sure,” Tru said. “I still am.” He looked out at Dreshdae, and the humor drained from his face. “Especially here.”
“What about you, Ferus?” Anakin asked as he bent over to tighten a strap that didn’t need tightening. “Nervous? Or is that not allowed for a Jedi Knight?”
“I’m not a Jedi Knight yet,” Ferus answered.
“But you’re closer than any of us,” Anakin said, straightening. “Does that make you more nervous or less? I mean, let’s face it, the Jedi Council’s eyes are on you.”
Ferus frowned as he picked up the taunt buried in Anakin’s easy tone. “I’m not thinking about that. I’m thinking about the mission.”
“We’re all thinking about the mission, Anakin,” Darra said.
“Of course, we all want to capture Omega,” Tru added. His eyes told Anakin to back off.
“But Ferus wants to be the one to do it, I’ll bet,” Anakin said. “Once you start impressing the Jedi Council, you have to keep on doing it.”
“It doesn’t matter who does it,” Ferus said. “It matters that it’s done.”
“Spoken like a true Jedi Knight,” Anakin said.
Ferus’s neck flushed red. “Just what are you trying to say?”
“Anakin—” Darra murmured warningly.
Anakin took a step closer to Ferus. He couldn’t help himself. Despite his best intentions, the words spilled out in a torrent. “That you’ll do whatever you can to succeed on this mission, but not because you want to catch Omega. You want to be a Knight.”
“Anakin!” Tru exclaimed.
But Ferus and Anakin were past listening to their fellow Padawans. They were careful to pitch their voices low, however, to avoid attracting the attention of their Masters.
Ferus’s dark eyes flashed with anger. “That’s a serious charge, and an untrue one.”
“I’ve got news for you,” Anakin said. “You won’t be the one to find Omega. I will. I’d bet on it.” The remark seemed to burst out of him without his directing it.
Darra sucked in a breath through her teeth. Tru shook his head.
Ferus turned away. “I’m not going to bet on a mission.”
“Because you have too much riding on it? If you lose, you might lose the Council’s favor,” Anakin said. “No wonder you won’t take me up on it.”
Anakin had gotten to Ferus at last. He could see it. Suddenly Ferus spun around and came within centimeters of Anakin.
“Okay, sure, I’ll take the bet,” he said. “Whatever you say, Anakin. I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of you and your ego.”
“Ego? You’re the one who spends all his time showing off!”
But if Anakin was heat, Ferus was ice. He buckled his utility belt. “Someone has to teach you that you are not as powerful as you think you are.”
Anakin saw the Masters looking over. He bent over and pretended to tighten the same tight strap so that Obi-Wan could not read his face. He had to control himself. He had gone farther than he’d meant to, but he didn’t care. Now it was out in the open.
They followed their Masters out onto the main thoroughfare of Dreshdae, a narrow unpaved street. A light gray rain was falling, and it had an acid taste. Anakin felt foreboding settle on his shoulders.
Dreshdae was a hodgepodge, a drab spaceport that had grown and shrank without regard for utility or beauty. Until recently it had been a collection of temporary buildings made of plastoid blocks or cheaper metals that rusted with age. The Jedi could see these buildings in various states of disrepair. Sprung up around them was a collection of newer buildings, most of them clustered near the Commerce Guild’s Dreshdae Headquarters. The Guild had spared no expense, building a multistoried edifice with durasteel facing in a multicolored iridescence that was supposed to sparkle in sunlight but instead looked cheerless in the drip of rain.
Although Dreshdae tried to present itself as a typical new, brash city struggling to grow, the strain showed. There was no disguising what the spaceport had been and would slide back into again—a dark, dangerous, lawless place. Undercurrents of its evil past bubbled up through the cracks in the stone facings and the hastily erected walkways. Beings hurried through the streets as if anxious to find shelter. No one lingered in the cafés. Anakin didn’t hear one snatch of conversation, or one burst of laughter.
“Our contact is a businessman named Teluron Thacker,” Obi-Wan said. “He’s done favors for the Jedi in the past, and he agreed to help us if he could. The meeting place isn’t far.”
Anakin felt a touch on his shoulder and turned. No one was behind him. Perhaps it had been a leaf brushing his shoulder—but he knew, of course, that there were no trees on Korriban.
Another touch—Anakin whipped around. He looked at Ferus, wondering if he was try
ing to play a trick on him, but Ferus was several meters back, talking to Soara.
He began to pick up a whisper. Then another. He couldn’t make out the words, only the intent. Someone was baiting him, cajoling him, laughing at him…or was it his imagination? Was it just the wind whispering through the stones?
They crossed the street and he thought he saw a flash of something—blood coursing down a stone wall. When he blinked, it was gone.
“Master…”
“It is the dark side of the Force, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m picking it up, too. Ignore it.”
But Anakin couldn’t ignore it. There was something insistent about the voices. Something that urged him to answer. Although the feeling made him anxious, he also wanted to face it. He wanted to get to the root of this dark power…to match himself against it…to prove, once and for all, that he was as strong as it was.
Chapter Six
Obi-Wan stopped outside the small café. It fit the coordinates he was given, but still he hesitated. Was it even open? The café was small, dingy, and in serious disrepair. Half of the roof was caving in. It was a wonder anyone would go inside at all.
“What is it, Master?” Anakin asked.
“Teluron Thacker is a prosperous businessman,” Obi-Wan said. “Why would he frequent this kind of place?”
“You think it’s a trap?”
“I’m not getting a warning. But still…” Obi-Wan shook his head. The problem was the energy on this planet. Dark waves buffeted him from every side. It was like swimming in an evil sea. All that darkness made it hard to distinguish what was a true threat.
“It could just be a case of not wanting to be seen with us,” Siri pointed out. “One of us should go in first to check it out.”
