“We will accommodate both requests,” he said.
Luke looked at him, surprised. Ben tried and failed to stop a huge grin. Luke felt disquiet stir within him but did not say anything.
“We wish you to feel that our side of this agreement is fully honored,” Tadar’Ro continued. “Our word is dear to us. We will not willingly violate it, for to do so shows contempt for Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil. It is why we do not readily interact with other species. But,” he added, turning to look at each of them with those deep black eyes that seemed to stare into their souls, “we hold you to the same standard. You must do your very best to comprehend our ways, our culture, our faith. And you must use that comprehension to help us find our way back to a true path—wherever it might lead us.”
“We promise to help you to the very best of our ability,” Luke said, choosing his words carefully. It was entirely possible—even probable—that he and Ben wouldn’t be able to figure out anything useful. Luke could not promise to solve their problem, but he could vow to give it his very best effort.
Beside him, Ben nodded. “We’ll do our best. And … thank you. For agreeing to teach me.”
Tadar’Ro seemed satisfied. “It is approaching the time when we rest,” he said. “Tomorrow, at first light, we will begin the sharing. Do you wish to stay here, or return to your vessel for the night?”
“We’ll return to our vessel, thank you. But a question before you go?” Luke asked.
“Speak.”
“There are many items here that are designed for humans. May we take them to our vessel?”
The Aing-Tii nodded. “If they will be of use to you, of course. I would ask that you not keep them, however, as they have become …” He floundered a little. “They are part of who we are now.”
Luke inclined his head. “I’m pleased that one of my species is well thought of among the Aing-Tii. We will return everything we take. You have my word.”
After Tadar’Ro had departed, Luke turned to Ben. His son held up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say, Dad. But he said it was all right.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know, and thanks for not putting your foot down.”
Luke sighed and shook his head. “You know how I feel about this, Ben, but I won’t stop you from learning this if you really feel you must.”
Ben shifted uneasily on the makeshift mattress. “I … I kinda feel like I do need to, Dad. I can’t explain it better than that.”
Luke didn’t want to think that the Force was prompting Ben to do this, but it was beginning to seem that way. He knew that there were times when a parent had to let his children make their own choices—and their own mistakes. Ben had made his choice, and the Aing-Tii had agreed to instruct him. It was out of Luke’s hands now, and he chose to let it go.
“I noticed there were a lot of datapads around here, as well as droid and ship parts,” Luke said, rising and changing the subject. “Let’s see if we can learn anything from them.”
They felt eyes upon them as they emerged from Car’das’s house and headed back through the passageway to the Jade Shadow. Now that Luke knew what the situation was, the division of those who had regarded them with favor, or at least neutrality, and those who resented him made sense. It was unfortunate and awkward, but it was the situation. Luke only hoped that he and Ben would be able to find some sort of answers for them.
When they returned to the Shadow, Luke began sorting through the datapads and other items they had brought with them while Ben prepared dinner.
“These … these are journals,” he said. “It looks as though what Car’das was permitted to bring back with him was just the barest fraction of what he learned.”
“Maybe,” Ben said. “Or maybe it’s just filled with ramblings along the lines of Get me away from the rock creatures with the tongues.”
Luke chuckled despite himself. “One way to find out,” he said. He hooked up one of the pads to the holoreceiver, and an image appeared. It was a human male, with dark hair and a short, neatly trimmed beard. He seemed hale and fit, and wore a shirt, pants, and boots.
“If you’re watching this, then presumably you, too, are a guest of the Aing-Tii,” he said, smiling. The voice was deep, pleasant—and very familiar.
“That’s Tadar’Ro’s voice!” Ben said as he came back with a tray of spiceloaf sandwiches.
“No,” Luke said, “Tadar’Ro got his voice from Jorj Car’das.” He snagged a sandwich. “Let’s listen to what he’s got to say.”
KESH
TWO YEARS EARLIER
VESTARA’S HANDS WERE TIGHT ON THE REINS AS TIKK FLEW TOWARD THE Temple. He cawed and bobbed his head. Vestara turned her attention toward the beast who bore her and, sensing his discomfort, immediately relaxed her grip. Her thoughts had been so crowded that she had become distracted. She felt bad. Just like weapons and slaves, transport animals were valuable property, and the wise Sith did not abuse them without good reason. Too, Tikk was more to her than an ordinary mount. She had bent him to her will, causing him to imprint upon her within moments of hatching, and she was fond of him.
She shivered a little. At this altitude, she was paying the price for her choice of clothing in which to attend the Council meeting. The delicate, almost flimsy material of her lovely green dress, while beautiful, offered no protection against the cold air and the wind that was starting to whip up. She didn’t even have anything to put her hair up with, and it blew about wildly. Vestara placed a hand on Tikk’s shoulder, right in front of the saddle, and sent calm through the Force. She then let the reins hang loosely about his sinuous neck and quickly began to braid her long, light brown tresses. She could do nothing about the dress.
Some things would be sent to her from her home, she knew. As a Sith Saber himself, her father would decide what was necessary and appropriate. Everything else would be provided at the Temple: clothing, bedding, food, weapons. She would sleep in a dormitory with all the other apprentices, and very little would be truly hers alone.
Once she had successfully completed her training and had become a full Saber, she would be permitted to have a private room, and a blind eye would be turned on whatever luxuries she chose to fill it with. She would have earned the right to whatever vanities and indulgences she liked. Until then, though, Vestara would live a simple existence. The Tribe did not scorn material goods, but first they needed to know that every Saber could live without them.
She was not overly concerned with what would and would not be sent. At the moment, all she could think about was what she would learn.
Vestara took up the reins again, gently directing Tikk toward the dark stone spires that she could now distinguish from the rock out of which they had been carved. It was late afternoon, and the shade of the mountain’s steep side fell heavily on the Temple. There were no glow rods lit to gleam from the colorful glass windows, and even the white statuary in the courtyard seemed dim to her.
She felt Ship before she saw him, swathed in purple shadows as he was; felt the now familiar and welcome probing, the soft swell of dark side energy emanating from him, distinguishable and unique even when surrounded by the energy coming from the Temple itself. Vestara felt her lips curve in a smile and sent what she hoped was a respectful greeting.
Using the pressure of her legs and adjusting the reins slightly, she guided Tikk in toward the courtyard. Tikk descended and landed with only a slight thump. Vestara slipped off, patting the uvak absently.
No less a figure than Lady Rhea herself stepped forward to take the reins. Vestara, horrified, looked around. There were several other apprentices, but none made as if to intercept the Sith Lord.
“As I take the reins of your beast, so I take the reins of your life, my apprentice,” said Lady Rhea. She gave Vestara a cool smile. “There will be a formal ceremony later, but for now, we begin here.”
Vestara calmed her thoughts. She disliked being taken unawares, and she suspected that this was exactly why Lady Rhea ha
d made this gesture. She bowed deeply, respectfully, in control.
“Of course, Lady Rhea. I submit myself to your guidance.” She met her Master’s eyes evenly, demonstrating her poise and confidence, honoring her teacher by indicating that Lady Rhea had accepted a strong young woman for her apprentice. Lady Rhea held her gaze. By sheer will, Vestara forced herself not to shiver as a particularly cold wind gusted across the courtyard, slicing through the pathetically thin material of her dress.
“Good. As you should.” Now Lady Rhea nodded and another apprentice hurried forward to take Tikk. As the uvak lumbered off, wings folded against his sides, Vestara felt a sudden lurch. Would she be permitted to ride Tikk at all, or was he now property of the Temple? Would he even be returned to her when she completed her training?
“Attachments are nothing to avoid in and of themselves.” Of course, Lady Rhea had noticed. “Indeed, passion is what drives us. But you must let go of the need to possess, Vestara. Anything that you have can be taken away from you. You come from a wealthy family, and you are used to having. Perhaps one of your lessons needs to be in not-having.”
She nodded to the apprentice leading Tikk. The youth paused, drew Tikk’s head down, activated his lightsaber, and lifted it high.
Tikk!
Vestara bit down on her tongue so hard she tasted blood. She kept her arms locked at her sides, swallowing the cry that ached to be uttered. Her eyes were enormous, and she did not tear them away from the scene before her.
“Very good,” Lady Rhea said in a voice that was almost a purr. Another barely perceptible nod of her white-gold head and the apprentice deactivated his weapon. Tugging gently on the reins, he led Tikk down a ramp. The uvak, blissfully unaware of just how close he had come to decapitation by lightsaber, followed compliantly.
“Had you protested, your uvak would be dead now.” Lady Rhea’s hand dropped to Vestara’s shoulder. “Go ahead and be fond of him, my dear. And of your pets, and family, and lovers you may take one day. Enjoy to the fullest all the trappings that power gives you, for you will have earned them. Want everything you wish—hunger, burn for it, if that fuels you. But never love anyone or anything so much that you cannot bear to lose it.”
For just a moment, Vestara was angry at the display and the brutal casualness of it all. And then she realized that Lady Rhea was right. Completely right. With that realization, the anger bled out of her and she inhaled a hitching breath. Lady Rhea was watching her closely.
“My lady is correct, of course. I apologize for my reaction.”
“Your reaction was better than most, my dear. I expected nothing less. Come.”
THE DORMITORY HALL WAS CAVERNOUS AND COLD. NO ATTEMPT HAD been made to beautify or soften the black stone from which the room had been hewn. The floors were smooth and even, but the walls were still rough. Only one side had windows, and those were high, round, and small. The little pools of light they cast on the ebony floor seemed feeble.
There were other lights, though. Two large fires roared in hearths large enough for Vestara to stand upright in, and each bed had a candle on the small table beside it. The beds themselves were simple cots with sheets, blankets, and a single pillow. Vestara thought of her lavish, canopied bed at home, piled so high with comfortable pillows that one could sink into sleep surrounded by them, and could not suppress a brief sigh.
One day, she would have such a bed again. Until then, she was certain that by the time she was permitted to return to this simple, crude, uncomfortable-looking cot, she would be so exhausted she would fall asleep the moment she crawled between the sheets.
They were alone in the vast hall at the moment, and Vestara followed Lady Rhea as she walked down between the rows of beds.
“This one is yours,” Lady Rhea said, stopping before one of the beds. Indeed, Vestara recognized the small, neat pile of clothing as the simplest of her own. Folded on top of the pile was her black robe—the one in which she had been training when Ship had first arrived. It had been sweaty and sandy when she had discarded it; now it was clean and folded, ready to wear. Tucked beneath the cot were exactly two pairs of shoes—both boots.
On the table was a handful of personal grooming items. And that was it. That was all Vestara Khai would be permitted from her old life.
“You will soon realize that this is all you will need,” Lady Rhea said.
“Of course,” Vestara said automatically.
“Go ahead and change into your robe.”
Vestara hesitated. Belatedly she realized that there was no privacy at all in the vast room. Was there even a refresher or would she have to utilize a pot of some sort and bathe from the mountain streams?
“There is no place to change,” she said.
“No,” Lady Rhea said, her perfect mouth curving in a smile. “There isn’t. Nor will a room miraculously appear. You will quickly discover that no one here cares, Vestara. All are equal as apprentices. You will learn to change quickly and effectively. How clever you are about it is up to you. Some apprentices have no modesty at all; others have mastered the art of changing clothing without revealing anything unseemly. And yes, there is a refresher.”
At Vestara’s look, Lady Rhea laughed in her lovely, husky voice. “I cannot read minds, Vestara, but I have trained many an apprentice in my day, and every single one of them has reacted as you have. You are doubtless wondering why we utilize such primitive forms of heating and lighting,” she continued. Vestara hesitated for a moment longer, then sat down on the bed—it was just as lumpy and uncomfortable as it had looked—and began to unlace her sandals.
“The reasons are twofold. First, we wish to purge apprentices of anything that smacks of luxury. There will be time for such things later, but now, we will pare you down to the very bone. Artificial light and heat are technological gifts. As Sith, you must learn to be at home anywhere. The entire galaxy is ours. Some of that galaxy is rich and comfortable. Some of it is bare and harsh. When your training is complete, you will be able to sleep anywhere, know how to make a fire, and be at peace whatever your surroundings.”
Vestara slipped the dress over her head. For a moment, she was pale and naked and vulnerable in the dark, dim room. Then she slipped the heavy black robe over her head and was immediately comforted by its familiarity and tradition.
“The other reason”—and again Lady Rhea smiled—“is simpler. It’s more practical this way.”
Vestara, bent over lacing her boots, smiled, too. She rose, fastened her lightsaber onto her belt, and took a deep breath.
“I know you are familiar with some areas, but now much more is accessible to you. And yes,” Lady Rhea added, anticipating the question, “you will be permitted to set foot in the historic vessel that brought us to this world. It is all part of your training.”
“And … Ship?”
“Patience,” chided Lady Rhea. “It is only your first day. You have years of training ahead of you. Come. I will let you familiarize yourself with the Temple.”
IT WAS A FEW HOURS LATER, WHEN THEY WERE HAVING SOMETHING TO eat in the dining room, that Vestara felt the summons at the back of her mind; a cool, probing touch that sent shivers down her spine.
Ship.
She had been eating a simple meal of barrat stew and oro bread. It was not a sophisticated dish, but the apprentices who had prepared it had a knack for seasonings, and she was hungry. Now, though, the bite of bread seemed dry and tasteless in her mouth. She glanced up at Lady Rhea, mutely asking if she, too, had felt it.
“Yes,” Lady Rhea said. She rose immediately, leaving her half-eaten meal on the table. “It wants us.”
They went.
Apparently, Ship wanted many people. As Lady Rhea and Vestara hastened at a brisk trot out into the courtyard, Vestara saw that several had already gathered and more were emerging. It looked as though everyone in the Temple had been summoned, and when Vestara had threaded her way through the crowd to the front, as was her right as Lady Rhea’s apprentice, she glanced up an
d saw that several others were approaching on uvak-back. Even, she realized with surprise, Lord Vol. He landed and dismounted stiffly, waving off offers to assist and walking proudly, if slowly, to stand beside the strange, orange-red vessel.
Apparently, when Ship called, one came.
Ship seemed to have patience. After that one summons, Vestara sensed nothing further from him. He seemed to have shuttered himself off from them, still and quiet. Vestara stood rigidly at attention as the minutes ticked past, resisting the urge to shift her weight or otherwise betray any emotion other than stoic patience. At least she was somewhat warm now in her heavy Sith robes. At one point, Lady Rhea placed her hand on Vestara’s shoulder.
And then, with no hint, he was there, in her mind again. All around her, she felt her fellow Sith coming sharply to attention.
You are needed.
Vestara nodded. Twilight had come fully, and the temperature had dropped. Her breath misted softly on the evening air.
Long have you dwelled here. But you are needed now.
Of course they were needed. They were Sith of the purest stock. Members of the Tribe could trace their origins back in an unbroken line for over two hundred generations. Doubtless they were truest to what it meant to be Sith than any others out there. Five millennia past, the Omen had crashed on Kesh, exiling the Tribe from their Sith brethren. But there had been no doubt in the minds of any Sith on that vessel that their brethren would succeed in the ultimate Sith goal. And there was no doubt now, that across the galaxy, the Sith ruled world upon world, as they did Kesh. That—
No.
The statement was flat and brooked no argument. Vestara was confused. No what?
The Sith have been hunted. Pushed back. Almost destroyed. Only a handful remain. I have seen them, the so-called One Sith, and found them wanting. Jedi are on many worlds. They do not rule, but their numbers are great and growing.
Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi II: Omen Page 16
