Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi II: Omen

by Christie Golden

  Allana stood up on tiptoe, the banister being sufficiently tall that she couldn’t otherwise see over it, and peered down at the animal. It was large, with mottled red skin on its head, neck, and chest. Two horns curved out on either side of its massive jawbone and a single huge central horn jutted from between its eyes. The solitary animal paced for a bit, then, grunting, pawed at the grassy matter it had been given to sleep on. It looked up at the throng gazing down on it, opened its mouth—it had jaws strong enough to snap a humanoid limb in a casual bite—and bellowed at them, then moved to one of the rocks in the pen to sharpen its cheek tusks.

  “Why aren’t the reeks out in the riding animal pens?” Allana asked. “They’re bred to be pack animals, aren’t they? And I thought their skin was supposed to be brown. Is this one hurt?”

  Leia and Jaina exchanged pained glances. Jaina spoke first. “Well, yes they are pack animals. And they’re usually fed plants. But sometimes people feed them a diet of meat, which enhances their aggression. They want to use them to fight other animals.”

  A frown marred Allana’s sweet face, but it wasn’t shock and horror. It was righteous anger. “I have heard of such things,” she said quietly, “and I think it’s very wrong of people to do that.”

  Of course. Protected as she had been as Chume’da, Allana was in many ways not nearly as innocent as children born to more ordinary parents. There were certain harsh realities that she would not have been shielded from.

  “You’re right, honey,” Jaina said, a bit loudly so that those nearby—presumably those considering buying the beasts for such a purpose—could hear. “It is very wrong of people to do that.”

  They moved slowly past the reek to the next pen, which housed a beast that had a special significance to the Solo family—a rancor. Leia’s lips thinned in recollection of a time, many years past now, when she had been a slave of Jabba the Hutt and had been forced to watch him feed many of his enemies—and some servants who had displeased him for one reason or another—to a rancor. It was always a one-sided affair, until the time Luke Skywalker had been dropped into the rancor pit.

  “Queen Mother Tenel Ka has a lightsaber whose hilt is a rancor tooth,” Allana said. There was a hint of wistfulness in her voice, but she had not blurted out my mother.

  The rancor squatted in its pen, staring sullenly up at the visitors. Then without warning it leapt upward.

  Allana—and half the people on the walkway—shrieked. Han had one arm around her in a heartbeat, the other hand going for the blaster that wasn’t on his hip. The rancor impacted with the transparisteel and a bright flash dispelled the dull red lighting for an instant, and when Leia could see again the beast was crouched on the floor of its pen, shaking its head and twitching from the shock it had received.

  “Any emergency exits?” Han asked quietly, holding Allana. “I’d just as soon get out of here.”

  “There’s one next to every pen,” Natua said. “At the end of the crosswalk.”

  “Then let’s go. I’m ready to see something small, fluffy, and with no teeth,” Han said.

  “No,” said Allana stubbornly. “I want to see all of them.” She was struggling now, and her grandfather reluctantly put her down.

  “You know, we just might trade you in for a chitlik,” Han said, ruffling her hair. “They’re a lot easier than little girls.”

  Recovering from her fright already, Allana giggled. “But not nearly as cute, right?”

  “I’m supposed to be the one with the wisecracks, missy.”

  They moved onward, over boarwolves, tusk-cats, and other creatures, until they came to a pen that contained several animals curled up so tightly they looked like furry pillows—furry pillows whose spines were crested with large quills. One was large and tan; the others—Leia counted ten of them—were much smaller and white. At one point the larger lump of fur stirred and looked up. Leia saw four eyes and an enormous row of teeth as the creature snarled. A few of the white lumps of fur looked up, as well.

  “Oh! It’s a nexu—and she has cubs!” said Allana. “How cute!”

  “For creatures with four eyes and a mouthful of teeth, they are rather cute,” Leia admitted. Their eyes were large and liquid, and their mouths were still full of tiny milk teeth. The cubs couldn’t be more than three months old, since they were still snowy white.

  “They’re still young enough to be bought as guard animals rather than attack animals,” Radd said. “You have to find excellent trainers, though.”

  “Wait—you mean you can keep those as pets?” Jaina said.

  “Well, yes. If you get them young enough and train them well enough. I mean, they’re never going to be a little twirrl, but—”

  A prickle of unease stirred at the back of Leia’s neck; a brush of foreboding, like cold fingers lightly stroking her skin. Her hand dropped to her bag and reached for the lightsaber contained therein.

  She caught Radd’s eye and he nodded, his own hand clasping the hilt of his lightsaber. Jaina’s face told Leia that she, too, sensed the sudden change in the Force. Leia turned to Natua, her mouth open to ask the other Jedi if she could take Allana to the nearest emergency exit.

  Natua was nowhere to be seen.

  All the lights went out. And the screaming started.

  IT HAD HAPPENED SO FAST NATUA COULDN’T BELIEVE IT.

  “Any emergency exits?” Han had asked, holding on to the frightened Amelia. “I’d just as soon get out of here.”

  “There’s one next to every pen,” Natua said. “At the end of the crosswalk.” Her eyes flickered to the exit, judging how long it would take for them to make their way through the crowds to it, and then back to Amelia.

  No. Not Amelia.

  An imposter.

  All along, Valin, Jysella, Seff—they had been right.

  Her hand dropped to her lightsaber and she looked quickly at Jedi Leia Organa Solo, at her husband, her daughter.

  “You know, we just might trade you in for a chitlik,” Not-Han said. “They’re a lot easier than little girls.”

  Natua stared as the false Amelia giggled. A child? How could they—whoever they were—impersonate a child? And why? “But not nearly as cute, right?”

  All imposters. All of them, even Radd. She scanned the crowd. Was every being here one? How deep did it go? All the way through the Masters, through the GA?

  Natua dropped back, letting her pheromones activate, exuding a feeling of calm toward those crowd members close to her, and began to think about how she was going to get out—and find those who were still their true selves. What had been done with the real Leia, Han, Amelia, Jaina?

  It was her duty as a Jedi Knight to find out—and stop the imposters any way she could. Her gaze fell to the pens below her and the creatures they contained. It was a desperate, dark measure, but it was one she was willing to take. The imposters’ voices floated back to her as she moved toward the exits she herself had pointed out.

  The fake Han’s quip was lost in the murmur of the crowd as Natua opened the door and slipped through.

  This area was bare-bones utilitarian in contrast with the theatrical décor in the pen area. She could see ducts, wiring, and unpainted duracrete as she glanced around. Next to the door was a uniformed human male with his feet on his desk, reading a holozine. He did a double take at her, the feet came down, and he hurried toward her.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am, I hope our exhibition of dangerous animals wasn’t too intense for you. Are you in need of medical attention? Feeling faint perhaps?”

  Natua would have rolled her eyes had the situation not been so dire. They kept up the charade even in the back areas, it would seem.

  Something was wrong with him, too. She could not put her finger on it, but even though she had never met him before, she knew that he, like the others, was not who he pretended to be. She wanted to simply Force-hurl him against the wall, but she needed him. She stepped forward, her skin reddening as she exuded pheromones and moved two fingers very gent
ly.

  “Jedi. There’s an emergency. You have to take me to the control room immediately. Lives are at stake!”

  His skin, too, reddened as he blushed slightly in reaction. “I—lives are at stake out there. Come with me at once! I’ll take you to the control room.”

  LEIA ACTIVATED HER LIGHTSABER AT ALMOST EXACTLY THE SAME INSTANT as Radd. The pale blue glow of her weapon gave her enough light to see the panic on their faces that she could already hear in the screaming voices. Allana’s, right beside her, was the loudest. The only other illumination came from several tiny rows of light below them that outlined each pen and marked where the force fields were erected. The crowd, already unnerved by the sudden leap of the rancor, was now pressing toward the exit doors.

  “They’re locked!” someone yelled.

  “Blast it,” Leia murmured under her breath, then, more loudly, using the Force to augment her voice, she shouted, “Everyone remain calm! I’m certain it’s just a glitch and will be remedied soon. We’re in no danger.”

  She caught Radd’s eye and jerked her head in the direction of the nearest exit. He nodded and began to push his way through the crowds.

  “I’ll get the one over by the rancor pen,” Jaina said. She suited action to word, Force-leaping over the crowd and running lightly on the banister on her way to the exit.

  “Radd,” Leia continued, “Jaina and I are going to begin cutting exits through the doors to get everyone out as soon as possible. Hopefully the lights will have come back on by then and—”

  There was a clanking, grinding noise from below them. Leia glanced down quickly. Behind her, Han swore very colorfully and Allana’s frightened wails increased.

  The transparisteel ceilings that formed a physical barrier between the patrons and the hungry, tormented, hostile creatures that milled below them were slowly, methodically retracting into the wall. The creatures looked upward eagerly. At the same moment, Leia watched as the tiny lights that so comfortingly announced that the force fields were active … winked out.

  Something wet and solid dropped down on her, catching her shoulder heavily. A quick glance down revealed a large amount of blood—but not her own. At once Leia understood what was going on.

  The animals, carnivores all, were being fed.

  It was a smart plan from a safety perspective. At feeding time, the transparisteel ceilings would be retracted, the force fields would be deactivated, and instead of risking lives by asking the animal caretakers to physically carry in the raw meat, it was simply dropped from compartments in the ceiling.

  Except it wasn’t feeding time, and lots and lots of beings were in the way. Even as Leia tried to again shout out calm to the crowd, she thought it was poor design that the ramps would be so positioned. The food was dropping right down on them, as well as into the pens.

  And then she realized what must inevitably come.

  “Protect Amelia!” she cried to Han. She felt Jaina through their Force-bond, and sent her daughter a fresh sense of urgency. Force-leaping upward to land lightly on the narrow banister, Leia ran along it as Jaina had, concentrating hard to keep her balance, toward Radd and the hole he was cutting through the door. The danger made gentleness go right out the air lock, and Leia had to Force-push several screaming crowd members back from herself and Radd.

  “How close are you?” she cried, extending a hand to keep the mob from descending upon the Brubb as he worked frantically.

  “A few more minutes,” he replied, dragging his lightsaber through the heavy metal of the door.

  “We may not have that,” Leia told him, turning around to lend her lightsaber to his.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s suddenly become feeding time,” she said, pulling the blade through her side of the circle with all her strength. “The force fields are deactivated, the ceilings are pulled back, and any minute now the walkways will be—”

  The metal upon which they stood trembled and began to move, pulling them closer to the wall.

  “—retracted,” Leia said.

  GRAND EVENT CENTER, CORUSCANT

  NATUA NODDED IN SATISFACTION AT THE SCREAMING THAT COULD BE heard even through the thick walls. She took no pleasure in the noise, but she had done what was necessary. Every person in that room was an imposter, and while she would not willingly kill them on general principle, those who had somehow managed to spirit away Leia, Han, and Radd were obviously very powerful … whatever they were. Their motives could not possibly be benign. The pretenders wearing the faces of friends—who, likely, had probably murdered said friends—had to be contained and stopped.

  Now they would be.

  She glanced back at the two unconscious guards. The first one had taken her to the control room; the second had tried to stop her. She had Force-hurled both against the walls upon entering. Bloody smears trailed from the point of impact to where their heads lolled against the wall. It had been easy for a Jedi to override the security systems in the Dangerous Animal Hall. She was sorry to discover, however, that this room did not control all security throughout the exhibition. She’d have to do the rest on her own.

  The Falleen Jedi raced through the back corridors, keeping her eyes peeled for security cams and shorting them out every time she passed one. She slammed into a door marked EXIT and emerged in the main hall. Had it been only half an hour or so since she had been there, her greatest concern a nosy journalist spying on them? Her heart lurched in pain. She had been ignorant then, had thought her fellow Jedi now encased in carbonite to be insane. She knew better now.

  Natua glanced around. She eyed the Small Animal Hall for a moment, then shook her head. It would be annoying for dozens of little creatures to be milling about underfoot, but nothing more. She wouldn’t waste her time there. The distraction—the chaos, the damage she needed in order to both ensure her escape and cause as much harm to the doppelgängers as possible—would be found outside.

  THE SCREAMING WAS NEARLY DEAFENING, AND NOW THE CROWD BEGAN to stampede in earnest. Leia whirled, lifting her lightsaber, desperately hoping she wouldn’t have to use it but prepared to if necessary. On the other side of the door would likely be the emergency controls to stop the ramps from retracting. She gripped her blade with one hand, holding out the other, fingers splayed hard, to keep the press of beings from jostling Radd in his urgent task. She hoped that Jaina was making better progress than the Brubb.

  She wished heartily she weren’t so short and craned her neck to see into the center of the room. Those on the ends of the ramp would be frantic, trying to retreat to the safety of the walls as the surface beneath their feet inexorably disappeared a centimeter at a time. And yet Leia was trying to hold them back, to give Radd room to work.

  A sudden shrill cry soared over the other screams, and Leia felt a sharp stab of terror in the Force. Without pausing to ascertain what was going on with her five physical senses, Leia leapt upward, landed on the banister again, and then jumped down toward the source of the fear.

  A little boy, about Allana’s age, had landed hard on the duracrete floor of the boarwolf pen. His pain shot through Leia, red-hot and urgent—the boy had suffered broken bones at the very least—but his terror was even more overpowering than the physical pain. Leia dropped beside him, bending her knees to absorb the impact, then put her own body between the boy and the snarling predators.

  One of them lunged forward, teeth bared. Leia brought the weapon across her body in a sweeping motion and the creature fell in two still-wriggling pieces. Two others lunged at her in tandem. She darted forward, impaling the first one right through its opened mouth and slicing upward. She extended a hand and Force-hurled the second one back into a fourth animal that was charging. The boarwolf struck its packmate heavily, and both beasts went sprawling. Leia sensed a fifth one coming behind her and whirled. She decapitated it immediately. The little boy screamed, covering his head as blood rained down upon him. Leia was sorry for the trauma she’d caused him, but at least he’d be alive t
o deal with it. She looked around, clutching the lightsaber in preparation for another attack. One of the bodies spasmed in its death throes, but then lay still. She had killed them all.

  She turned back to the boy, crouching beside the hysterically sobbing child. She touched his shoulder lightly, exuding comfort and reassurance.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “You’re going to be fine.” She had just started to gather him in her arms, intending to Force-leap upward to the ramp and return him to his no-doubt terrified parents, when out of the corner of her eye she caught motion.

  She glanced up. Above her she saw a blur of tawny fur and realized that the mother nexu had leapt clear out of her cage and was now scrabbling for purchase on the ramp. Her two front paws were hooked into the small holes in the metal plating, and one of her hind legs had almost managed to get a solid grip. Her naked rodent-like tail thrashed and wound about the banister. The nexu opened her horrifically wide mouth in a savage snarl, her head looking almost like it would split in two with the gesture.

  Leia left the boy where he was. He would be safer in the pen with the five dead boarwolves. Switching the lightsaber to her left hand, she leapt upward. She caught the banister with her right hand about a meter from where the nexu was still struggling to climb atop the ramp and started to pull herself up. A strong hand shot out of nowhere, grabbed her arm, and hauled her up the rest of the way. She turned to see Han, his other arm wrapped tightly about Allana’s small waist as he pressed the girl to him like a package he was carrying on his hip.

  There was no time to thank him, or reassure Allana. Leia spun to face the nexu. Even as she whirled, she saw the creature lash out with one of its forepaws as both hind legs came up and gripped the retreating end of the ramp. It caught the leg of an Ithorian. The unfortunate being cried out in pain in the unique, twin-mouthed fashion of his people, his utterance of agony sounding incongruously beautiful and hauntingly musical. He fell backward, his long fingers clutching at the ramp, his left leg caught in the huge jaws of the nexu.