Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi II: Omen

by Christie Golden

  Leia, Han, Hamner, and Jaina exchanged glances.

  “Agreed,” said Hamner quietly, and he held out his hand.

  “WHAT?” YELPED JAINA AS SOON AS DAALA HAD EXITED. YOU WANT me to sit for an interview with that bottom-feeder, you want me to turn in—”

  “Jedi Solo,” said Hamner, his voice and face both hard as ice. “Whatever tacit approval you had or thought you had from me before you started this little adventure, you knew full well that you would be forced to take responsibility for your actions if they ever came to light.”

  “We have Wan and we have Seff,” Leia said, reaching across the table to squeeze her daughter’s hand. “That’s what you performed the mission in order to accomplish. Daala’s letting us keep them—if not our pride.”

  Han muttered something and Leia elbowed him. “Your mom’s right. We won this round and Daala knows it.”

  Hamner rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I could wish that no one involved was thinking about winning rounds at all. What’s important is that we find a way to help these poor Jedi and keep them and others safe.”

  “Say that to Javis Tyrr just as you said it here, and you’ll have a chance to make Daala’s so-called punishment work for us,” Leia said. “And I, too, wish we weren’t on sides. But we are for right now, and we simply have to deal with it the best that we can.”

  “MA’AM,” SAID DORVAN AS THEY WERE ESCORTED OUT OF THE ROOM and walked the long, imposing hallway toward the entrance where the reporters hovered, “I’ve taken the liberty of drafting a statement for you to read. There’s a way you can turn this all to the GA’s advantage.”

  Daala threw him a disbelieving glance, but quickly skimmed the statement on his datapad. She was impressed. All the facts were there, but the word choice, the order in which they were presented, and the conclusion that would be drawn from it all certainly gave the impression that all was right in the Galactic Alliance.

  “Wynn, what would I do without you?”

  “I rather think you’d miss Pocket.”

  Still, Daala mused as she stepped out in the throng of reporters and now gawkers, she had not gotten what she wanted. The Jedi had wriggled out from under this, yet again. A thought began to form in the back of her mind. If she couldn’t have the Jedi where she wanted them, she might settle for the next best thing.

  She smiled, stepped up to the makeshift podium, and began to speak.

  MOFF LECERSEN’S PRIVATE RESIDENCE, CORUSCANT

  “Vansyn,” said Lecersen, speaking into his comm, “are you watching HNE?”

  “I am, and I must say, it’s absolutely riveting programming.” It was, without a doubt, Javis Tyrr’s day. First the coverage of the “Insane Jedi Rampage,” then the expose of the fact that the Jedi had another crazed Knight stashed away in the bowels of their Temple. And now, the coup de grâce, an exclusive interview with no lesser personages than Acting Grand Master Kenth Hamner, Master Cilghal, a Chadra-Fan Jedi named Tekli, and both living Jedi Solos.

  “I understand he has his own show now,” Vansyn continued. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it gets bumped to prime time after this.”

  “Indeed,” said Lecersen. Leia Solo was speaking now, looking directly and sincerely into the holocam, doing her best to smooth over the bluntness of her offspring. “He is a resourceful one, isn’t he? He could prove very useful.”

  JAINI SOLO’S QUARTERS, JEDI TEMPLE,

  CORUSCANT

  The reporters finally drifted away at twilight, after the interviews had all been conducted and the Temple had resumed what looked to them like its normal, boring routine. The curious onlookers had begun to drift away in search of other distractions.

  Jaina was exhausted and furious. What part of her day had not been spent swallowing her pride had passed in basic hard labor. All part of Kenth’s punishment for doing something he had known kriffing good and well she—

  Jaina stuffed that emotion down. He’d been right. Once this came to light, she’d known she’d be forced to own her actions and take the proper punishment for disobedience. So she had not uttered a word of complaint as she helped out in the laundry and the cafeteria along with apprentices and staff members.

  Now all she wanted to do was get to her quarters and fall into the blessed unconsciousness of sleep.

  She was therefore surprised to open the door to her room and find Jag Fel waiting for her. The room’s lighting was dim, and the table that was normally covered with datapads, flimsi, and various assorted knickknacks had been cleared. Two plates with something lavish and complicated looking on them were flanked by gleaming silverware, along with a bottle of something sitting in a bucket of ice.

  “I’ve been swallowing my pride all day,” Jaina muttered. “I’m not hungry.”

  Jag shrugged. “Well, I am. Do you know what time it is?”

  “I’ve been a bit busy.”

  “I know. That’s why I thought you might want something to eat. You tend to forget to fuel yourself when you’re in full-on-charge mode.” He rose from the bed where he’d been lying, went to her, gently pressed her into a chair, and tugged off her boots. She was so distressed by the events of the day, she let him.

  “Come on. Eat something and tell me what happened. I saw the holonews, of course, but something tells me that Javis Tyrr might not be reporting the entire story.”

  Despite her disgruntlement, the aroma of the roba steak was appetizing, and Jaina found herself digging in as she told him about what had happened. Jag listened quietly, his eyes intent on her, offering silent support.

  “I never mentioned you, Tahiri, Winter, or Mirax,” she said. “I was forced to reveal Tekli, but I honestly think that was a good thing. You know how agitated she can get. I think it was kind of a relief for her.”

  “I agree. And thank you. I knew you wouldn’t.”

  She gave him a fleeting smile that turned into a real one, reached across the table, and laid a hand on his. He squeezed it tightly.

  “Everyone who matters knows exactly what the situation is,” he told her. “Up to and including Master Hamner. I’d go so far as to say even Daala understands, but it’s contrary to what she wants and frankly what I think she believes to be a positive thing. Your actions helped the Jedi retain two very valuable study subjects, and that might be what solves the whole problem.”

  “Hey, you think my double could stand in for me here?” Jaina said, making a feeble and somewhat wistful joke.

  “She’s good, but her mouth is all wrong. I don’t think she’d fool Jedi,” Jag said, looking completely serious.

  Jaina actually laughed. They finished the meal in good spirits and shared a deliciously gooey dessert. Jag leaned back and lifted the sparkling wine from the ice.

  “And now to celebrate,” he said.

  “This day?” Jaina wrinkled her nose. “I think it needs to be buried, not celebrated.”

  “So far, I would agree with you. But I have something to suggest that will, I certainly hope, let this hitherto horrible day end on a very positive note.” He poured the wine into two fluted glasses. Jaina accepted, looking at the amber liquid with the small bubbles for a moment, then turning her attention to Jag.

  “This better not be about the Moffs, the GA, or the Empire,” she said.

  “Well, then I must disappoint. Because this is most assuredly about the Empire. Specifically about the head of said Empire and a joint venture he is suggesting. I think that a formal alliance between two key factions would be a wise idea at this juncture. Both parties would benefit.” He turned to her expectantly.

  Jaina peered at him. She couldn’t fathom what in the galaxy he was talking about. He had a very odd look on his face, too, though he was trying hard to keep his expression composed.

  “Have you been in negotiations with some world I’ve not heard about? Or are you trying to push that whole rival Jedi school thing on me again?”

  He blinked. A smile curved his lips, then became a chuckle. “Jaina Solo,” he said, warmth lacing hi
s voice, “I’m asking you to marry me.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I—what—you—how would this possibly work?”

  It was not a romantic response, but it was from her heart, and Jag knew her well enough to know that.

  Still holding the celebratory wine, of which neither had yet partaken, Jag replied, “You’ll continue exactly as you have, of course … and so will I. Eventually I am certain the Jedi will determine exactly what’s going on with Valin, Jysella, and the others. Once a treatment is found, Daala will be severely defanged. Luke will still be gone, but this whole rather grotesque sideshow will be over. I am also certain that Luke will return sooner rather than later with enough information on what happened with Jacen to get his sentence turned over. Once he accomplishes that, public sentiment will swing back toward the Jedi. As for the Moffs,” he said, frowning a little, “they may think I’m a fool for love, but I actually have some very solid leads on who the troublemakers behind the scenes are.”

  He leaned forward, looking into her eyes. “Jaina, I love you for who you are. I have for a long time. I have absolutely no desire to curtail, impede, cripple, modify, or thwart you in any way. There is my detailed argument for this formal union. What do you think of the proposition?”

  Jaina was still reeling. It was all so well thought out, so precise, so … Jag.

  But beneath the military bearing and the clipped, logical, formal presentation of a proposal of marriage, she knew that Jagged Fel was deeply in love with her. He was even nervous, she knew, as he waited on her reply.

  So she gave it to him.

  She sprang into his arms with such vigor that the chair fell over, but neither of them particularly seemed to mind.

  ABOARD THE JADE SHADOW

  LUKE HAD BEEN ENCOURAGED BY HOW WELL HE AND BEN HAD BEEN getting along through most of this odyssey they had embarked upon. There had been some friction, and some arguing, but by and large they had been growing closer.

  Now, as he had feared ever since Cilghal had suggested they travel to the Aing-Tii, the issue of flow-walking had divided them. Luke had to struggle against the desire to protest, to try to stop Ben, every time he went off with Tadar’Ro. He had hoped that by biting his tongue he would encourage Ben to volunteer information about how the training went, but Ben remained silent, almost angry.

  So it was no surprise initially when Luke’s dreams were chaotic and oppressive—as if he were coming under physical attack.

  And then a fraction of an instant later he realized it was no dream.

  Luke sprang up, fully awake immediately, executing a somersault over the length of the bed as he summoned his lightsaber to him. By its light he saw his attacker strike where he had been sleeping with a strange metal rod, then whirl angrily to charge.

  He couldn’t sense anything from the Aing-Tii who was so bent on causing him harm. It was as if the being were still a dream—as if it didn’t exist in the Force at all. The Aing-Tii was startlingly fast for someone who appeared to be carved out of stone, and Luke’s lightsaber was a blur as he blocked the attacks from the metal stick. Then, before he realized what was happening, the intruder was gone.

  He ran out the open hatch, lightsaber aglow, but there was no sign of his attacker. Ben ran to join him, his lightsaber lit, too, his hair mussed but his face alert and calm.

  “Who was that? How’d they get in? And why were they attacking us?”

  Luke shook his head. “I don’t know who it was. He or she was completely absent in the Force. And I haven’t spent enough time with any Aing-Tii other than Tadar’Ro to distinguish individual differences in such a brief encounter. As for how they got in—they are masterful Force-users, though they seldom do so unless they feel it serves Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil,” he said, deactivating his lightsaber. Ben followed suit. Luke scanned the area with more than his physical senses before jerking his head in the direction of the ship and moving back up the ramp. Ben followed, casting a last glance over his shoulder. “Jedi can get past all kinds of locking mechanisms. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that the Aing-Tii can, too.”

  Ben nodded as he closed the door and activated the lock. “Yeah. Or maybe it just hopped right on in like the Sanhedrim ships do.”

  “Caf?” Luke asked. Ben nodded. Luke got some brewing. “We know that Tadar’Ro said that tensions between the two factions were increasing. I think we can safely say that our mysterious midnight caller was from a side that’s hostile to our presence here.”

  Ben yawned and scratched his head as the caf finished. “It’s almost dawn. I’m going to just go ahead and stay up. Practice—” He paused in midsentence.

  Practice flow-walking, of course. Luke turned and busied himself with pouring the caf. “There’s no point in heading back to bed,” he agreed, smoothing over the uncomfortable pause. “I’ll be in my room meditating.”

  “Okay. Tadar’Ro should be here in an hour or so anyway. Be interesting to see what he has to say about all this.” Ben poured himself a cup of caf and turned away without another word. Pained but resigned, Luke let him go.

  TADAR’RO WAS HORRIFIED TO HEAR OF THE ATTACK. “A VOR’CHA STUN stick,” he explained. “That was the weapon the intruder was attempting to use. It is very powerful, and a mere touch of it would have rendered you unconscious for some time.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Ben. “Why break in and attack us just to knock us out?”

  Tadar’Ro’s agitation in the Force was painful. “I do not know. Perhaps to simply frighten you. Perhaps to incapacitate you for transportation elsewhere.”

  “Or to kill us when we couldn’t fight back,” said Ben. Luke didn’t contradict him. The Aing-Tii had been known to attack with lethal intent before.

  “I deeply regret that this has happened,” Tadar’Ro said. “To so ignore the fact that we have offered you hospitality, that you are attempting to help us … it is proof of how dangerous this rift is to our people, our culture.”

  “And any guests,” Ben grumbled.

  “I had hoped for more time, but …” Tadar’Ro’s tongues flickered for a moment; Luke guessed it the equivalent of a resigned sigh. “Ben Skywalker’s training is progressing well, and it is becoming tragically clear to me that we no longer have the luxury of time. Luke Skywalker, Ben Skywalker … the moment has come for you to go on your pilgrimage and receive the Embrace.”

  The two Skywalkers exchanged glances. “Very well, if you think we are ready.”

  “I think we cannot wait until you are. Besides, only Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil know who is ready and who is not. I am sure that They will guide you.”

  “Very well,” Luke said. “Is the Embrace far?”

  “Many kilometers.”

  “We’ll prep the Shadow for—”

  “You must travel on foot. To approach the Embrace in a vehicle is to give great offense.”

  Luke nodded. “All right. I could use a little physical exercise.”

  TWO DAYS LATER, HE WAS REGRETTING THE QUIP.

  The thinner atmosphere was starting to take its toll. They had packed water, but it was becoming obvious that they should have packed more. Even though they were Jedi, they could not move as fast as they had expected. The Force could only augment so much for so long.

  Tadar’Ro accompanied them, but as soon as he had taken his first formal step on the journey, he refused to speak to them. Luke and Ben, their relationship already strained, found themselves imitating him. For Luke, at least, it made the journey feel that much more difficult.

  They were heading east from the Aing-Tii city toward a mountain range that ran from north to south. Over the course of three days of hard hiking, they reached their destination—a nondescript aperture in what appeared to be a sheer wall face.

  Ben trudged to a halt, sweaty, his fair skin sunburned. He stared. He said nothing, perhaps because he was out of breath, but Luke could read his expression: Is this it?

  After keeping utter silence for the entire trek, Tadar’R
o finally spoke. “This is the passageway,” he said reverently. “Inside, you will find all the artifacts we have painstakingly gathered over many thousands of years. Tread carefully, for this is sacred ground to us. Go to the relics. Be with them. Please … find answers for us that we cannot, so that we might heal this terrible rift that wounds us as a people so very deeply.”

  Luke was moved by the request. He placed his hand on Tadar’Ro’s shoulder and respectfully moved his face toward the Aing-Tii’s, knowing that Tadar’Ro would read his intention in the Force. Gently, like a blessing, Tadar’Ro’s long tongues danced over Luke’s face. After a moment of looking uncomfortable, Ben imitated his father.

  “I hope with all my heart that we are able to do as you request,” Luke said.

  “May Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil grant you insight, and may the Force be with you,” said Tadar’Ro.

  Luke turned to Ben, caught his eye, and nodded. Then he turned to face the aperture and, with Ben right behind him, stepped through.

  A small path wound downward. It had been worn by many feet over thousands of years, so they were able to move forward with relative ease. It grew darker as they left the sunlight of the outside behind, until at last they were almost in complete darkness.

  “Lightsabers or glow rods?” Ben asked as they continued to descend, feeling their way with hands, feet, and the Force. They had discussed bringing their lightsabers with Tadar’Ro, who had agreed. If a wall caved in or some other disaster occurred, they would need to be able to cut their way out. Also, as Ben had just illustrated, the illumination would be useful if the glow rods failed for any reason.

  Luke paused, frowning in the dark. “Neither, I think,” he said slowly.

  “Huh?”

  “Come on.” They moved forward, their eyes blind, for another few steps. Then, sure enough, the darkness began to lighten. It was only a faint glow at first, so faint as to appear almost a trick of eyes that desperately wanted to see. Then the radiance increased, soft and soothing, but illuminating. There was a luminescence in the Force as well, a comforting, reassuring warmth that bathed Luke’s spirit as the light began to bathe his face and hands. He felt refreshed, even though he was physically weary from the pilgrimage, and excitement and anticipation quickened in him.