“And in return, you asked something of us. Something that no one among you could do—consult the relics that are compiled in the Embrace and seek guidance from them. We have done so. I give you my solemn word that Ben and I have handled every single artifact in the Embrace, trying to find the answers you, our hosts, asked of us. And here is what we have learned.”
Ben shifted beside him uneasily. Here we go, Luke thought.
“While we learned much from the relics, and while we touched the Force through them, it is with deep regret that I must tell you, we gleaned no insight from them. No direction, no guidance, nothing that we could bring to you as proof that Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil had plans for you at this juncture. I am afraid that the Aing-Tii are on their own. You and you alone must decide your destiny.
Whether you continue to believe as you have in the past, that the Force guides everything, or what the Prophet told you—that everything is pre-ordained—you must chart your own path.”
Grief and anger poured into the Force with such violence that Ben winced, and even Luke had to steel himself against it. Out of the corner of his eye Luke saw Ben’s hand twitch. Ben, sensing the hostility rampaging in the Force, desperately wanted to grab his lightsaber—but did not. Luke was very proud of him. A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and protection. Never attack.
Then as quickly as it had come, the crowd’s anger abated. The onslaught of enraged, disillusioned Aing-Tii did not come. Luke relaxed slightly as he watched them. They were talking; their tongues flickered wildly. But he sensed it was less of an argument than a discussion. Something had shifted. It was subtle, but present. Luke could not understand them without the translation device, but he had a good idea as to what they were thinking. He glanced at Tadar’Ro, who hesitated, then translated.
“Some of them say, this is proof that we do not need offworlder aid to decide our own issues. Others say that Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil have turned against us—while still others say they have enough faith in us to choose what is right. And still others say that if it were not for Luke Skywalker and Ben Skywalker, we would still be hostile to one another.”
Luke smiled a little. He could live with that. It was time for them to go.
The Aing-Tii began to drift away, returning to their ordinary lives and letting the “offworlders” be about their business. Luke turned to Ben.
“If you have any more questions for Tadar’Ro, you’d better ask them now.”
Ben shrugged, not looking at his father. “Nah, I’m good.” Luke frowned slightly, curious. “You haven’t attempted the flow-walking yet.”
“I decided not to do it. Come on, let’s get packing.” Tadar’Ro was confused. “But Ben Skywalker—we discussed this.” Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Tadar’Ro, can you give us a minute?” Tadar’Ro nodded. Ben and Luke strode up the ramp into the Jade Shadow and closed it.
“Ben,” Luke said gently, smiling, “I know what you’re doing.”
“Again?”
“Yep.” Luke’s smile widened. “You’re not going to flow-walk because you want to make a gesture to me. It’s been uncomfortable these last several days, and it’s all centered on the flow-walking. You’re denying yourself this to try to smooth things over after this rough patch.”
Ben nodded, not looking at him.
“I’ll be honest. I’d be just as happy if you never learned this skill, never used it. Especially not to see Jacen. Because that’s what this is all about. But you know what?”
Luke placed his hands on Ben’s shoulders and turned his son to face him. “The Aing-Tii aren’t babies who need the watchful eyes and control of Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil. They can make their own decisions. And the same goes for you.”
Ben looked up at him searchingly Luke smiled.
“Go on, if you need to do this.”
Ben hesitated for a long moment, then nodded, opened the hatch, and stepped outside. Luke watched him as he went to Tadar’Ro, and then was surprised when Ben strode off alone. Tadar’Ro turned to look at Luke expectantly. Confused, Luke hastened down the ramp to the Aing-Tii.
“I thought you would go with him.”
“He knows the technique. For what he must do, he does not need me present.”
Luke felt a pang as he glanced at Ben, a small figure growing smaller in the distance. His son looked terribly alone to him, but Luke understood.
“And,” Tadar’Ro continued, “there is something else I must share with you, Luke Skywalker.”
BEN WONDERED IF HE SHOULD HAVE HAD A SANISTEAM AND SOMETHING hot to eat before attempting what he was about to do, but it was too late now. He trudged slowly but doggedly toward the spot where he and Luke had spent so many days learning from Tadar’Ro. It all looked as it had before, the time-smoothed stones warm from the sun, the taller stones casting cool shadows. But it didn’t feel the same to Ben.
Here was where Tadar’Ro had taught Luke, and Ben, and Jorj Car’das.
And here was where Tadar’Ro had taught Jacen Solo.
For a long moment, Ben stood, his heart beating too rapidly in his chest, his arms folded. Part of him wanted to just walk away. But another part of him knew he had to do this, or else he would forever wonder if he could have learned something, anything, that might make a difference.
He sat down, but not on one of the stones upon which the students sat. He was still several strides away from the teaching site, close enough to observe and hear, far enough away so that hopefully his presence would not be noticed. That was one of the things Tadar’Ro had cautioned him about. One who traveled into the past could be seen and heard—even change things. But according to the Aing-Tii, the Force would resume its natural flow. One couldn’t change things in any significant way; the Force would bring things back to the way they should be.
Except … and Ben’s heart spasmed in his chest.
The Aing-Tii said this because they believed that the Force guided them in their everyday lives. And now, they had this dreadful schism. What if they were wrong? What if both sides were wrong? What if beings weren’t guided, or if things weren’t preordained?
What if he could really change the future?
He began to tremble at the awesome nature of the thought. There was only one thing to do—flow-walk, and see what happened. Since his legs were threatening to buckle underneath him anyway, Ben sat down cross-legged on the rocky ground.
He began to calm his breathing, as if he were prepared to simply meditate, but he kept his eyes open. “Soft eyes with which to see,” Tadar’Ro said. “Hard eyes will not see what they need to see. Closed eyes will see nothing.”
Soft eyes. Unfocused, but watching. Ben understood.
His heart rate dropped and his body relaxed. With his slightly out-of-focus gaze, he regarded the flat stones upon which he and his father had sat.
“I don’t understand,” came a familiar voice. Ben’s head whipped toward the sound, but he kept his gaze soft. Tadar’Ro was approaching the teaching area, and with him, striding briskly, wearing the brown and tan robes of a Jedi Knight, was—
“Jacen,” Ben whispered.
His cousin looked younger than Ben remembered. That was to be expected, of course; this was the past after all. But there was more to it than that. Ben hadn’t realized while it was all unfolding how much the war had aged Jacen. His cousin’s forehead was smooth, his eyes clear and bright and warm. His movements lacked the gravitas they had assumed later, when Jacen wore all black, a shimmersilk cape swirling ominously about him. Before Ben was no Sith, no colonel. Before him was a Jedi Knight, his cousin, a man curious and determined to learn.
Jacen sat down in front of Tadar’Ro and looked at the Aing-Tii expectantly. “How can you go into the future at all, if it hasn’t happened yet? Yoda once told my uncle it was always in motion.”
“Yoda was correct. And yet one can still travel into it.”
Jacen shook his dark head. “How can you travel into something that is not there?”
“When you flow-walk, things become solid beneath you. Your presence brings them into being. And yet, once you depart, they return to what they were. What you see is a future, but not necessarily the future. It is real, and it is not, and it is.”
Jacen shook his head, laughing with genuine warmth. “That explains everything,” he said wryly.
He was so … open. So unguarded. Ben tried to remember seeing Jacen that way and found he couldn’t. Was it because he was here, learning with someone like Tadar’Ro? Or had the final shell of hardness, of implacability, simply not folded around him yet?
“I’m glad you’re willing to teach me. I want to learn everything I can. This galaxy …” Jacen looked off, his expression detached, but not with the iciness that Ben remembered. “It needs order. Healing. Help. Jedi have abilities that other people don’t have. We need to do everything we can to help that process.”
Help. This man had killed innocents. Had tortured a woman to death. All in the name of helping the galaxy. How had he justified it, this man who sat there with concern obviously filling his whole being?
Jacen … oh Jacen …
Ben couldn’t take it anymore. With a roar he jumped to his feet, and the images disappeared as if they had never been. The stones were empty.
Like the paradox of traveling into the future, Ben realized that Jacen had been at once firmly set on the path to the dark side, and yet not walking it. He had not become Sith, had not really even considered the option seriously. The man Ben had just seen was a Jedi, and an uncorrupted one. He was no wide-eyed innocent—too much had been done to Jacen Solo for that. But for all the pain he had endured, he was not dark. And yet the shadow was already upon him, in his questions, in his attitude; not in the seeking of knowledge, nor even in the way he would use that knowledge, but in the drive to seek it.
Ben wanted to leap up, grab his cousin by the front of his robes, and shake him, screaming, Don’t do this! Please don’t do this!
But he knew that even if he had done so, even if he had been able to tell Jacen about all the atrocities he would eventually commit, it wouldn’t have made a difference. The brokenness was already in Jacen. The progression from Jacen Solo to Darth Caedus was inevitable and unstoppable, and that knowing broke Ben Skywalker’s heart.
He stumbled away several steps before leaning against one of the standing stones. He let it support him, clutching it like a lifeline. Luke had been right. There was no healing here, no closure. No chance of “saving Jacen.” Just a horrible racking inevitability, a feeling of helplessness, and the sensation of picking at a wound that should have healed long ago.
Ben rested his head against the stone and sobbed.
BOTH TADAR’RO AND LUKE WERE WAITING OUTSIDE FOR HIM WHEN HE returned. He knew they knew he’d been crying and he didn’t care, didn’t attempt to hide his feelings in the Force. Luke looked at him compassionately as he approached.
“You were right, Dad,” Ben said without preamble. “It was a horrible feeling. I don’t think I’ve ever felt as helpless in my life. The only thing I can do now is move forward, and … and try to be more aware next time of the warning signs.” He met his father’s gaze evenly. “I couldn’t save Jacen. But maybe … maybe there are others I can help.”
He squared his shoulders and turned to Tadar’Ro. “I thank you for teaching me this technique. And I hope you won’t be offended, but … I have to tell you, I don’t intend to do it again. Ever. I—I think for me, it’s better to just live in the present.”
Luke remained silent, but Ben felt his father’s pride wash over him like a warm, comforting wave. He blinked hard, not wanting to cry again.
“There is no offense,” Tadar’Ro reassured him. “The ways of the Aing-Tii are not for all. You wished to learn; we teach those who ask. It was the same with Jorj Car’das. In answer to his questions, we only asked him to learn about us, not become like us.”
Briefly Ben wondered what the ways of the Aing-Tii were, now that they had to decide such things for themselves. But it was not his concern, nor should it be.
“While you were … gone,” Luke said, “Tadar’Ro and I had a very interesting conversation. It turns out that you and I were not the only humans to have handled the Codex.”
Ben felt a jolt, then gently pushed it down. Despite what he had witnessed through flow-walking, he knew that sooner or later he’d have to learn to not wince when someone talked about Jacen. “Jacen did, too?”
Luke nodded. “I told Tadar’Ro what we experienced, and apparently Jacen felt the same thing happen when he touched the Codex.”
“The whole augmenting-your-powers thing?”
“Well, yes, that. But more importantly, he had the sensation of something wrong in the Maw that I did. He told Tadar’Ro that when he left, he was going to investigate the Maw and find out what it is.”
About forty million questions crowded Ben’s mind. He opened his mouth to try to articulate at least sixty-three of them, but Tadar’Ro interrupted.
“I told Jacen Solo not to go. And I give the same message to Luke Skywalker and Ben Skywalker.”
“Why not? If there’s something wrong there—” Ben began.
“There the Mind Drinkers dwell,” Tadar’Ro said. “It is a dangerous place for those who use the Force.”
Ben looked at his father. Luke nodded slightly.
“We embarked on this journey to find out what happened to Jacen Solo to turn him into Darth Caedus,” Luke said, “and also to see if we can find out anything about the strange mental illness that is crippling the Jedi Order one by one. Tadar’Ro … we have to go investigate this.”
Despite the intensity with which he had warned them, Tadar’Ro did not seem surprised at their decision. Perhaps, after knowing four humans, he was starting to figure out how stubborn they could be.
“So said Jacen Solo. And I will give you the same parting gift I gave him: a riddle. The Path of Enlightenment runs through the chasm of Perfect Darkness. The way is narrow and treacherous, but if you can follow it, you will find what you seek.”
Ben and Luke exchanged glances. “No other clues?”
“As you told my people earlier … you must figure it out for yourselves.”
Despite everything, Ben found himself grinning. He had no idea that the Aing-Tii had such a sense of humor.
“And for Ben Skywalker, I have another gift. One that is not quite so difficult to understand.”
He had been carrying one of the Vor’cha stun sticks attached to a belt around his waist. Now he reached to unfasten it, offering it to Ben.
“You and your father were attacked with such a weapon. I deeply regret that attack. Now the weapon is yours. I know you will wield it carefully. It can render your enemy unconscious, even through armor.”
“Lubed!” Ben said, grinning, as he accepted the stick. He bowed to Tadar’Ro. “Thank you, Tadar’Ro. Thank you for everything.”
Luke caught Tadar’Ro’s eye and smiled a little. Then, before Ben knew what was happening, there was a sharp pop of displaced air. The Vor’cha stick simply vanished from his hands to reappear in his father’s. He gaped for a second, and then realized that while he had been studying so hard to learn flow-walking, Luke had readily mastered the other known Aing-Tii Force technique. He laughed a little as Luke tossed the stick back to his son.
Tadar’Ro bowed to both Skywalkers. “Travel safely. May you learn what you must.”
“May the Force be with you,” Luke said.
Amusement bathed them. “It is always with everyone,” Tadar’Ro said, nodded to them, and turned to go.
Less than an hour later, they were ready to depart. Ben had even had a chance to grab a sanisteam and a nerf steak. He slipped into the chair beside his father, moving quietly as Luke was recording a message.
“ … and based on all this, we’ve decided to head to the Maw,” Luke was saying. “I’m not sure when we’ll be out of the Rift and you’ll be able to receive this, but I thought you should kn
ow as soon as possible. Ben and I will get to work on the riddle, but if any of the Masters figures it out before we do, I promise I won’t be insulted. I hope to talk to you soon, and I hope all is well back home.”
He punched a button and sent the message, then turned to Ben. “Ready to talk to these Mind Drinkers who supposedly dwell in the Maw?”
“Sure,” Ben said, lifting the Vor’cha stick. “I think we can handle them.”
KESH
LADY RHEA HAD SPOKEN WITH LORD VOL, AND THE ETERNAL CRUSADER had been summoned back to Kesh. As they entered orbit, Vestara realized that the whole armada had been recalled. Currently in orbit around a world that, two years earlier, had never even seen an operational space-faring craft were more than two dozen star ships.
Vestara, Lady Rhea, and a few other crew took a small transport to Tahv. The sharp delight Vestara took in the fact that she was no longer on the outside, wistfully looking in, but almost always brought in on every major decision and planning session had not faded over the last two years. She was aware of the responsibilities of such an honor, and never took it for granted.
She recalled the first time she had stood in these Council Chambers, frightened but resolute. How naïve she had been then. She smiled a little and shifted position, then stilled as Lord Vol began speaking.
“A short time ago, many of us felt a very strong rippling in the Force. We sensed a presence that we immediately realized would be a threat to us. Ship was able to identify that presence as the current Grand Master of the Jedi—Luke Skywalker.”
A soft murmur went through the room. Lord Vol held up his hand for silence. “The information Ship has given us on this Skywalker is sobering. He is, however, far from his home base. We do not know to what end. Still, I am not about to overlook an opportunity when one drops as perfectly into our hands as ripe fruit. Skywalker is several light-years away, but still within our ability to reach. Over the last day, I have been in contact with Lady Rhea.” He nodded to Vestara’s Master, who stepped forward.
Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi II: Omen Page 24
