Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi II: Omen

by Christie Golden

  “We don’t do that,” Ben had said as they watched over dinner one night.

  “No,” Luke had replied. “That denotes a lack of respect, I think.”

  “Most of my understanding about the Force, which is admittedly limited, points to it having only two aspects—light and dark,” Car’das had said. “The Jedi work with the light side of the Force, and the Sith and Dark Jedi with, obviously, the dark. That’s nice and simple and clear, and maybe we humans like our philosophies that way. But the Aing-Tii have a much more complicated view of it. They view it as—”

  The image of Jorj Car’das had paused and his hands moved, as if he could physically grasp the words he wanted. “As having variations. Gradations. Like light, when put through a prism. Kind of—a rainbow.”

  Ben thought of this image as Tadar’Ro nodded. “It is true. We do use the Force. It is sacred. It is of Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil. Such a thing is much more complex than light or dark, wrong or right. Jacen Solo seemed to understand this.”

  Luke and Ben exchanged glances. Ben knew that look; they’d talk about this more when they were alone.

  Tadar’Ro continued, “We do use the Force to power our vessels, so that we may move beyond this world and search for any objects that might have belonged to Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil. We will send you on such pilgrimages, as well. You will be able to aid us greatly.”

  “Of course,” said Luke carefully. “We will be happy to do so while we are here. You shared with Jacen your understanding of the Force—of this rainbow aspect as Car’das called it. What else did you teach him?”

  “Jacen Solo was very strong in the Force, which is why we agreed to instruct him. We believe that he had been sent to us to learn, just as Jorj Car’das was, just as you were. We taught him that one does not need to be Force-sensitive to use the Force. We taught him the understanding of how our vessels move instantly from place to place—how even as simple a thing as a rock or a tool can be moved so.”

  He extended a clawed hand and pointed at a small stone. There was a clap of displaced air, and suddenly the rock was at Luke’s feet. Both Ben and Luke started.

  “Perception is all, if it is powerful enough,” Tadar’Ro said. “I saw the rock here, and not there, and here it is. It is difficult to convince the mind that it is so, but once you have mastered and understood that—it is supremely simple.”

  This, Ben thought to himself, was totally astral. He bent and picked up the rock. It was just that, a rock; not smoking, not unnaturally warm or cool, just a rock that had been there a minute ago but was now here, resting in his palm.

  “Jacen Solo was able to learn this quickly,” Tadar’Ro continued. “I will teach this to the both of you. Hopefully your minds will grasp it as quickly as Jacen Solo did.”

  “And flow-walking?” Ben said. “How did he take to that?”

  “Easily as well,” Tadar’Ro replied. “It is tied in with how we view the Force, and how …” The Aing-Tii ducked his head in an odd gesture. Consternation emanated from him. “How until the coming of this Prophet, we viewed destiny and fate. We believe the Force guides us, and we do not try to direct it in any particular manner. It is the same with flow-walking. One must surrender one’s emotions to the Force; center oneself in its flow.” He turned his head and fixed Ben with one great, liquid black eye. “Perhaps you will be like your cousin, and learn it very quickly.”

  “Perhaps,” Ben said, uncomfortable with the notion that he might be like Jacen in any way. And still … he couldn’t suppress a twinge of excitement at being able to go back into the past, or into the future—even an uncertain, not-really-sure-it’s-going-to-happen future. Out of the corner of his eye, as if his father could read his thoughts, Ben saw Luke frown.

  THEY LISTENED TO MORE OF CAR’DAS’S HOLOGRAPHIC RECORDING OVER dinner that night.

  “They use the Force to power their vessels somehow—to make those crazy jumps that seem as much luck as anything else,” the little hologram continued. “And they discuss it endlessly. At least Tadar’Ro seems to want to discuss it with me.”

  And Tadar’Ro wanted to discuss it with Luke and Ben, and presumably Jacen as well. It was odd. They were the most secretive people imaginable—even hostile about it—yet once they had accepted one into their ranks, as it were, they wanted to share everything.

  “The Force as a rainbow,” Ben said. “I gotta say, it’s a nice image.”

  “It is,” Luke agreed. “I don’t like to think of myself as closed-minded, Ben, or intolerant. And I am fully prepared to admit that viewing the Force this way seems to work for the Aing-Tii.”

  Ben thought about the time he had spent on Ziost. At that point in his life, he had been solidly Jacen’s creature, although a few doubts had begun to creep in around the edges. He had believed that the Force was a tool, like a lightsaber or a blaster. That it was what you did with it, how you manipulated it, that was important. That there was no real dark or light side, only a neutral side. Gray, if you will.

  Or rainbow.

  And yet—even as he first saw the planet, he had felt something malevolent about it. As if it was watching him, the way he was watching it. He remembered the voices, which spoke first in his dreams and then in his head, urging him to abandon the young girl who was accompanying him. To kill her, to—to eat her, in order to grow strong. And when those thoughts were on him, the girl, Kiara, recoiled from him. From the dark side growing within him.

  And it was at that moment that Ben had wondered about his belief in the Force’s neutrality. The malevolence he had sensed had come from nothing alive. It was the imprint of the Sith who had been there for so long; the echoes of their presence, their energy, even though they had long since physically left the world.

  He realized that it was the dark side. And although it had taken him a long time to process that revelation, he had.

  “I used to think of it like a tool, a weapon,” he said. “A blaster isn’t inherently evil. It can shoot a friend to betray him or an enemy to save a life. I thought of the Force that way. As neither good or evil, just kind of—gray.”

  Luke nodded. “I remember when I entered the cave on Dagobah. I sensed something wrong at once, even before I went in. It was so cold, so unsettling. I was—” He laughed slightly. “I was setting myself up for failure, is what I was doing. Yoda told me I wouldn’t need my weapons, but I took them anyway. He warned me that a Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never attack, but when the image of Vader approached—I activated my lightsaber first. That’s not what Jedi do. We protect and defend those who can’t defend themselves. So I failed my first test on the whole light side-dark side thing pretty miserably.”

  Ben chuckled. “You know, it gives me hope that you screwed up so badly and so consistently as a kid, Dad.”

  “Watch it, son.” Luke grinned.

  “I—I think Jacen wanted it to be gray,” Ben said slowly, speaking as he worked things out in his head.

  “What do you mean?”

  Ben suspected that Luke knew exactly what he meant, but wanted to hear him say it. He continued. “Jacen wanted a safe galaxy. That’s something all right-thinking people want—a safe place to raise their kids, pursue their art or their passions. It’s not a bad ideal.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “But—Jacen wanted it too badly. Badly enough to do really evil things to get it. Badly enough to become Sith in order to get the power to make it happen.”

  “It’s the classic example of the end justifying the means,” Luke said quietly. “You want something—even something that everyone agrees is a good thing—too desperately. And so you start eliminating obstacles to your success. And then in order to keep going, you’ve got to harden yourself to doing more and more things that are at odds with your core beliefs of what is right and wrong. Make it so that your goal is so important, you have to lie or betray or kill for it.”

  Luke paused. “I once asked Yoda if the dark side was stronger. He said no
, but it was easier, more—”

  “ … seductive,” said Ben in his smoothest Lando Calrissian impression as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  Luke laughed. “You know the story. But the lesson—which I failed miserably—was that you really do find only what you take with you. The dark side can’t corrupt you unless you let it, let it use the anger, hatred, and aggression you already have.”

  “Or your wants,” Ben said quietly, the humor fading. “That’s what Jacen did.”

  “For a Jedi, there is no place for a rainbow Force,” Luke said quietly. “There’s no room for compromise. We walk the path of the light side, or we fall to the darkness. There’s no gray area, Ben.”

  Ben sighed. “It sounds like a nice idea, but … yeah. I saw what happened to Jacen, up close and personal. And I’ve felt the dark side on Ziost, just like you did on Dagobah. But Yoda was wrong about one thing.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “It didn’t dominate Vader’s destiny. You pulled him back from the dark side, and when he died, he was one with the Force. And you pulled Mom back from it, too.”

  Luke smiled gently. “And Leia pulled me back, when I got too close. I think you did the same thing for Tahiri, Ben. You didn’t just abandon her, even when she had done all the things she did to you.”

  Ben struck a heroic pose as best he could in the flowform chair. “Jedi Skywalkers,” he said melodramatically. “Practicing a fine family tradition of rescuing people from the dark side.”

  “Hey, there are worse family traditions.”

  “Like Aunt Leia’s spiceloaf.”

  “You think the dark side is scary, you say that to her.”

  “I won’t. I like my body intact, thank you very much.”

  THE JOURNEYS UPON WHICH THE AING-TII SENT LUKE AND BEN WERE fascinating. The Aing-Tii sometimes knew the precise location where an artifact would be. Other times, Luke and Ben were sent on missions based only on a “sensing” that something “might” be there. Traveling was much easier now that they had the Aing-Tii to help them plot jumps. Ben once asked if they could learn how to make the Jade Shadow jump the way the Sanhedrim vessels did, as they were now on a pilgrimage on behalf of the Aing-Tii.

  Tadar’Ro shook his head. “Your vessel is without the Force,” he said. “Ours … are not.”

  “Are they organic, then?” Luke asked, thinking of the Yuuzhan Vong.

  Tadar’Ro cocked his head, considering. “Yes and no,” he said finally. “They are of the Force, but they are not organic, not as you understand the word.”

  “More rainbow philosophy?” asked Ben.

  “Indeed,” said Tadar’Ro. The question could have been perceived as flippant, but Luke and apparently Tadar’Ro both knew that it wasn’t intended as such. “Things are not just one thing or another. Not with us.”

  The artifacts they were sent to find were of all varieties. Sometimes they seemed to Luke and Ben to simply be exceptionally beautiful stones, crystals, or other natural formations. Other times they carefully brought back what was clearly a piece of advanced alien technology. Each time, the item was received in the same manner: with reverence. And most of the time, Luke and Ben, the ones who managed to obtain the item, were treated with gratitude and courtesy.

  Most of the time. Increasingly, though, Luke began to sense resentment from the Aing-Tii. He asked Tadar’Ro about it one afternoon.

  Tadar’Ro seemed agitated. “It is not directed at you,” he said finally. “The schism between the two factions—those who believe the Force guides us, while not directly shaping things, and those who believe the Prophet was a voice for Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil—increases each day. More and more, each side swells with those who step from neutrality, from being comfortable with the not-knowing, to a firm stance. Fewer and fewer are staying open to all possibilities, as I am. We need to heal this rift, and soon.”

  “What can we do to help?” Luke asked.

  “When you are ready, we will take you to the Embrace,” Tadar’Ro said.

  Beside Luke, Ben started violently at the word. Luke reached to squeeze his arm reassuringly. For Ben, for a long while yet, the word Embrace would be followed by of Pain, and would produce an instant and visceral reaction. Tadar’Ro of course picked up on it.

  “It is nothing of harm,” he said reassuringly. “It is simply our term for the site that contains the Relics. That … embraces them lovingly, holds them safely.”

  Ben was calming down and nodded. “Sorry,” he said. “So why can’t Dad and I go to this … Embrace … and try to answer that question for you?”

  “You are not yet ready to do such a thing,” Tadar’Ro replied. “There are still things you must learn; things you must understand about us. Things that Jacen Solo and Jorj Car’das learned and understood, at least to some degree. Then I will lead you into the Embrace.”

  Luke knew what Tadar’Ro was talking about. He was not at all happy that Ben had asked to learn flow-walking, or that Tadar’Ro had agreed to teach it. For beings who had a multifaceted approach to the Force, even to physics itself, flow-walking was probably not that big a deal.

  But for humans, it was something else entirely. Still, the situation was what it was.

  “I know Ben is anxious to learn flow-walking from you, so I will leave you two to it,” he said, rising and nodding respectfully at Tadar’Ro. Ben didn’t meet his father’s eyes, instead gazed straight at the Aing-Tii. He was still looking intently at him as Luke turned and walked back to the Jade Shadow.

  THE SHADOWS OF EVENING WERE STRETCHING OUT WHEN BEN FINALLY came back. He was excited by what he had learned, but was doing what he could to conceal that excitement. He was silent as he rattled around in the galley for a bit, finally emerging with a plate piled high with food.

  “I’m a little later than usual,” he said. “I figured you’d already eaten.”

  Luke nodded and turned to pause the holographic journal entry he’d been perusing. “I did. How is it going?”

  Ben filled his mouth with food so he wouldn’t have to reply instantly.

  “Okay,” he said finally, then took another large bite.

  Luke sighed. “Care to elaborate?”

  “Not really. I mean, I know you don’t like it, Dad, so what’s the point?”

  “I think it’d be interesting to hear how it is being taught from the original source,” Luke said, keeping his voice mild.

  Ben shrugged. “Kind of what you’d expect from the Aing-Tii. All rainbowy.”

  Luke felt a pang of sorrow at the new wariness his son displayed. He knew that it was a direct consequence of his disapproval, but what was he to do? What was any father to do when he saw his son doing something that was unnecessary and perhaps very dangerous? He couldn’t just pretend that it was all fine, and Ben knew it, and for the first time on this journey together, Luke could feel the old rift between them opening again.

  He took a deep breath. “Ben … do you understand why I don’t approve of this?”

  “Of course I do,” Ben said, snapping a little. “You believe it’s dangerous, that it’ll hurt me somehow. That it’s wrong to try to meddle with the past or future.”

  “I do believe it will hurt you, but not the way you think,” Luke said, searching for the words.

  Ben eyed him, still wary but also curious. Luke took a moment to gather the words, hoping they were the right ones.

  “It’s an empty promise, Ben. Full of hopes and wishes, but in the end, it’s just ashes and disillusionment. Yes, you can see those who have died, but you can’t change what happens to them. And yes, you can see the future—even alter it to a small degree if you’re skilled enough—but you can’t be sure you’re doing the right thing. The very wanting that is prompting you to do this is what’s started many down the path to the dark side.”

  “What do you know about what I want?” Ben snapped. “You never even asked why I wanted to do it!”

  Luke blinked, realizing his son was right. �
��I’m sorry,” he said. “I assumed—”

  “You shouldn’t.”

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t make assumptions. I thought you wanted to go back in time to see Mom again … or to find out when Jacen started to go wrong. So that you might be able to change things.”

  A sudden bright flush on his son’s cheeks told Luke that he had hit the mark. The silence that suddenly descended was painfully awkward. Luke waited a moment, but Ben said nothing, didn’t even continue to eat.

  “Ben … I’m just a father wanting to spare his son pain, that’s all. And I knew that’s why you wanted to learn the technique because—well, because it’s what I would have wanted to do at your age.”

  “I’m sick of being my age,” Ben said coldly. He shoved the food away from him with a sharp, violent gesture and rose. “I guess I’m not hungry after all.”

  Luke watched him stalk off toward his cabin, his heart aching. Everything he had said was true, but in the state Ben was in, he couldn’t or wouldn’t listen. He would have to figure all this out on his own.

  And Luke would be there when he did.

  OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OF STATE,

  SENATE BUILDING, CORUSCANT

  DESHA LOR GASPED AND HER HAND FLEW TO HER MOUTH.

  Wynn Dorvan stood, hands loosely clasped behind his back, his face inscrutable as he, Desha, and Daala watched the shocking events unfolding on the holonews. They were in Daala’s office, the décor of which was crisply white and scrupulously clean. Daala was a meticulous and precise woman, and of the Empire, and both these attributes of hers were on display here to anyone who cared to look.

  “It’s madness, absolute chaos,” Javis Tyrr was saying, peering earnestly into the cam. “Whereas only a short while ago the Coruscant Livestock Exchange and Exhibition was a safe, fun-filled way to while away an afternoon, now it has become a site of carnage and terror.”