Reunion: Force Heretic III

by Sean Williams

  “It’s impossible for me to say for sure,” Vigos admitted. “I’m sorry.”

  A bizarre image came to Jag then—one he couldn’t quite get his head around. He pictured Tahiri’s mind as some sort of animal trap, snaring anyone who ventured within it. Jedi after Jedi could throw themselves in and be lost forever. But how could this possibly serve Riina?

  The three men stared at the two unconscious women for a long, frustrated moment. Jag didn’t want to let the matter lie there, but he wasn’t sure what he could do about it. Had he been Force-sensitive, he wouldn’t have hesitated to try to join the meld. The woman he—

  His mind retreated from the admission, then grasped it and kept going. Yes, the woman he loved was in danger. There had to be something he could do.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Maybe you have done everything you can to help her. But I can still try.”

  Vigos glanced uncertainly at Markota, then back to Jag. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I’ll talk to her,” he said. “If she is in there, she’ll be able to hear me.”

  “Colonel, we’ve tried—”

  “Just leave me alone with her, okay?” Jag interrupted.

  Markota hesitated, then nodded to the medic. “We’ve got nothing to lose.”

  Vigos acquiesced. “Okay. But call if there’s any change in her condition.”

  “I will,” Jag promised.

  When they were gone and the door had shut behind them, Jag put his flight helmet down on the end of the bed and sat beside Jaina. He took her free hand in both of his. It was limp and lifeless, and cool to the touch. Despite his determination to want to help her, now that he was alone he had to admit that he really didn’t know if there was anything useful he could do. There was no enemy he could line up in a targeting reticle and fire upon; there was just Jaina, locked in the mind of a very sick young woman who also needed help.

  “I’m here,” he whispered close in to her ear. “And I’m not going anywhere, Jaina. Not until you wake up. You know what that means, don’t you? It means that Twin Suns Squadron is unattended. And we can’t have that, can we?”

  He stared at her face in silence. He hadn’t really expected his words to have an immediate impact upon her condition, but he couldn’t help hoping they would—that just hearing his voice would be enough to make her come back. But when he searched her expression for any sign of recognition, he found none. She remained still, emotionless, sleeping …

  He squeezed her hand between his. Although he knew the room was probably being monitored, he didn’t care who saw him, who heard him, or who might disapprove of his sentiments. All he cared about right now was Jaina. And from the way his heart ached, that’s all he felt he could ever care about.

  “I love you, Jaina,” he said. The words came easily for him. “Please come back to me.”

  Saba kept all her senses alert as she matched her pace to that of the Ferroan kidnappers. The path they’d been following had run out half an hour earlier, and they were now moving through unbeaten wilds of the tampasi. Despite the lack of any obvious trail, though, the Ferroans seemed to know where they were going. They moved as one with silent determination through the dense undergrowth. Every now and then they gave directional orders to her or Jacen, but never allowed themselves to enter any conversation. Nor were they prepared to come within a meter of her—although Saba had no doubts that this would change once they reached the camp where Senshi and the other conspirators were meant to be located. Security of numbers would inevitably make them feel less intimidated by the Jedi Knights.

  The farther they traveled, the more uneasy Saba became—mainly because of Danni’s condition. She knew that Jacen would never knowingly put Danni’s life in jeopardy, and the fact that the young scientist remained unconscious was obviously weighing heavily on his mind, but Saba still felt compelled to take the girl and try to find a way back to the others in the hope of getting her some medical attention. The only thing that stayed her urges was her trust in Jacen’s judgment. He saw things differently from her, on a deeper, more fundamental level, and for that reason she was prepared to bow to his command.

  They came to a bridge formed from a massive tree trunk that stretched across a swollen river. Three of the Ferroans crossed first, then waved for Saba and Jacen to follow. Once they were on the other side, the remaining four Ferroans crossed also, then the trek continued through a dense thicket of wild, red-leaved bushes. Sharp thorns slashed at Saba’s tough green skin. She did her best to avoid the worst of it, and to keep Danni from being scratched, subtly using the Force to push the thicket branches aside.

  Finally they came to a cliff face that was hidden from view by a stand of enormous boras. At the base of the cliff was an overhang five meters high and stretching a dozen meters into the rock. Jacen and Saba were directed under its shelter, where a larger group of Ferroans waited.

  They gathered around the new arrivals as they entered the shaded, sandy area, parting only to admit a very old Ferroan male to the front. His face was as heavily lined as Jabitha’s, but his rich, deep black hair was short to the scalp. The pale blueness of his skin made him look as though he were composed entirely of ice, and his gold-and-black eyes regarded the new arrivals with ill-disguised contempt.

  His gaze flickered across Saba, Jacen, and the comatose Danni. “I ask for one of the visitors as a hostage, and you bring me the entire group. What is the meaning of this?”

  A look of confusion passed over Tourou’s face. “Three seemed better than one, Senshi …” The residue of the implanted suggestion from Jacen had faded, and the kidnapper’s sentence trailed off uncertainly.

  “You fool,” the old man said. “The outsiders have ways about them—ways to make their words seem reasonable.”

  “It’s true that I influenced their decision to bring us here,” Jacen said, “but I only did so because I wanted to speak with you. It’s important that you see reason. We didn’t come to your planet to cause trouble; we came because—”

  Senshi’s laugh cut him short. “Don’t try to win me with your words, Jedi! I respond to actions, not empty words or promises. The recent actions against our world speak volumes!”

  “Those attacks came from the ones you refer to as Far Outsiders,” Jacen said. “They had nothing to do with us.”

  “You are all outsiders in our eyes,” he argued. “The actions of one reflect intentions of the other.”

  “And what about your actionz?” Saba asked. “What does kidnapping say about you?”

  Before Senshi could reply, a peal of thunder rumbled through the tampasi, and rain began to crash down with renewed strength outside the overhang. As the thunder died in the distance, Senshi looked triumphantly at his hostages and ignored Saba’s question completely.

  At that moment, another group of Ferroans stumbled in from the rain, bearing another body on a stretcher, covered from head to foot with a tarpaulin. Her first thought was that the kidnappers had returned for Soron Hegerty and somehow snatched the elderly woman from the care of Master Skywalker and Mara. But when the new arrivals set down the stretcher and pulled back the tarp, Saba’s concern quickly changed to puzzlement. It wasn’t Hegerty at all; it was the Magister.

  Senshi stared down at the unconscious figure, smiling thinly. “Now they won’t be able to ignore us.”

  There was a murmur from the Ferroans standing around him.

  Jacen stepped forward. “Why would you do this? Why take the Magister?”

  “Because she has forgotten,” he sneered. “She has forgotten the pain and suffering we endured the last time strangers came here after years of searching: the fires and the groundquakes; the terrible losses as whole villages fell; the hurricanes that tore entire boras out by their roots; the smoke that covered the sky. She forgets that we all lost loved ones, and that we stand to lose more if we allow her to throw away everything we’ve worked for. We didn’t come here to rest and rebuild and then just throw everything away on a whim
! We came here for sanctuary.”

  “You remember the time before the Crossings?” Jacen asked.

  “As clearly as if it were yesterday,” Senshi said, his expression haunted. “I lost my children, my partner, my parents, and my brother and sister. And I lost too many friends to even count! I was alone, wishing that I had died with them. But I was spared; I lived on. I endured with Sekot as we searched for sanctuary, and I rejoiced when we finally found the peace we had so long yearned for. And now I feel misgivings at the return of the Far Outsiders—as well as the Jedi.” He indicated the storm raging anew outside the overhang. “We have seen this combination before; we know what it means. I will not let the Magister plunge us into another cycle of death and destruction.”

  “Sekot welcomed us here,” Jacen protested.

  “Did it? I have only the Magister’s word on that.”

  “Why would she lie?”

  “Because by forgetting, she has become confused. And that confusion weakens her, putting us all at risk. I for one do not want to become cannon fodder in someone else’s war.”

  Saba could sympathize with the man. She felt his pain as keenly as she felt her own. Had she been faced with the possibility of losing her loved ones and her homeworld over again, she, too, would probably take drastic steps to prevent it. But she couldn’t imagine the Magister ignoring either the will of her people—if Senshi’s feelings were widespread—or the will of Sekot. That would run counter to her purpose. It was unlikely that Sekot would tolerate such behavior in the person it had chosen to act as mediator between itself and its citizens.

  “So what happens now?” Jacen asked. “What do you hope to achieve by all this?”

  “We have achieved as much as we dared dream,” Senshi replied. “We’ve shown that we cannot be easily ignored. When the Magister wakes, she will have no choice but to listen to us. And if that fails, if she still turns her back on us, we still have you to bargain with. Either way, disaster will be averted.”

  “But by turning your backs on us,” Jacen said, “you risk a much greater disaster.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as the domination of the galaxy by a power more destructive than you could possibly imagine. Once that power has consolidated its forces on the ruins of our worlds, it will come for you. The Far Outsiders may have been repelled once, but they won’t be so easily repelled when this system is filled with their warships. They will seed every planet in the system with biological factories in order to replace every ship you destroy. They’ll place interdictors across the entrances to this hyperspace bubble to make sure you can’t escape. And what happens then, Senshi? Who will you call upon for help when everyone else in the galaxy is gone?”

  The young human spoke with the confidence of one in possession of a cold, hard truth, and Saba could see through Senshi’s glare that what Jacen was saying was having an impact—even if he didn’t want to admit it.

  “You will never convince me that we need your help.”

  “Thankfully it’s not you we need to convince,” Jacen replied. “It’s Sekot. And if you truly have the best interests of the planet at heart, then you’ll abide by its decision. Whether it listens to me through you or the Magister, it will hear my words—and then it can decide for itself.”

  A low rumble rolled in across the tampasi at the conclusion of Jacen’s challenge. Saba felt an involuntary muscular contraction ripple down her spine. The Ferroans were silent, transfixed by the confrontation between Senshi and Jacen. There was fear in their eyes, as well as uncertainty.

  “It’s been a long day,” Senshi said after a few moments. “We are all tired. Unless the Magister wakes before, we will rest until dawn. By the light of day, things may be clearer.”

  “We will stay until then,” Jacen said. His tone was soft, but there was no escaping the antagonism of his words.

  “You’ll stay until I decide you can leave,” he returned coldly.

  “This one iz prepared to argue the point,” Saba said, matching his frosty tone.

  The Ferroan leader shot her a baleful glare, but didn’t challenge her. He turned his back on them and issued orders to the rest of the kidnappers. The group slowly dissolved into clumps of people unfolding bedrolls and breaking out supplies. Tourou guided Saba and Jacen to a niche at the rear of the overhang, where they lay Danni’s stretcher down and covered her with blankets. There, surrounded by nervous Ferroans, they made themselves comfortable for what little remained of the night. Saba had no intentions of sleeping, and neither, clearly, did Jacen. He sat up, his face glowing in infrared as he stared past the Ferroan guard to where Senshi stood talking to a couple of his people.

  “What now?” Saba asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  He faced her in the dark. “Now we wait.”

  “Do you have a plan?”

  “None at the moment, except to demonstrate to Senshi that we don’t mean them any harm—no matter how much they try to provoke us.”

  “We don’t have to cause them harm,” Saba said. “This one could carry Danni while you free the Magister. Together—”

  “Too difficult,” Jacen responded. “There are too many of them. Someone’s bound to get hurt. We can afford to be patient a little longer.”

  Saba wasn’t so sure.

  “Danni haz been unconscious a long time, Jacen,” she reminded him. “She will need medical attention soon.”

  Jacen looked down at the unconscious scientist. One hand reached out to brush damp strands of hair from her face. “She’ll be all right,” he said. The Force stirred at his touch, to help promote healing. “I’m sure she will.”

  But he couldn’t look at Saba as he said it, and he didn’t sound convinced.

  * * *

  Tahiri trembled as she felt the shadow of Jaina, lost in the prison of her mind.

  Let’s kill her! Riina said, her voice full of eagerness. She’s vulnerable in here, and we’ll take her by surprise.

  No, Tahiri said simply. No, we mustn’t. I mustn’t. To do so would not relieve me of my grief; it would compound it. To kill her would send me to the dark side. And that’s what you’d like, isn’t it, Riina? That’s why you clouded my sight, so I couldn’t see!

  The Yuuzhan Vong girl seemed infinitely smaller than she had a moment earlier.

  You spoke the truth when you said we could never be separated, but you feel that if I embrace the dark side then I will become a prisoner of these shadow lands, allowing you to become the dominant personality.

  Riina said nothing in return.

  Tahiri shook her head. I would sooner we both stay here forever than unleash you upon my world!

  Riina snarled and tried to pull away, but Tahiri held tight. Their fingers were slick with blood, but her will was strong.

  It’s time, she said. I’m tired of being lost.

  The ragged edges of their wound sought each other and sealed as though it had never existed. Tahiri gasped at the unsettling sensation, and heard Riina do the same. She watched with alarm as their entwined fingers melted into each other, as though their skin had wrapped around both hands, binding them together. Tahiri met Riina’s eyes and recognized the horror she saw there. Then the two of them stared as the lumpy knot of flesh that was their combined hands began to spread along their arms. Tahiri could see the bones moving beneath, testing their new environment. Then the knot began to move up their forearms, drawing them closer together.

  Riina continued to try to fight it, but Tahiri refused to relent—even though she shared the Yuuzhan Vong girl’s fear and revulsion for what was happening to them.

  There’s still time to change your mind, Riina cried as she struggled. We don’t have to do this!

  You’re wrong, Tahiri said. We do have to do this. It’s the only way.

  Despite her determination, though, the words didn’t ease the dread tightening in her chest. While she felt sure that this was what needed to be done, she really didn’t know what the result was going to be.

&n
bsp; The knot reached their elbows, and Tahiri felt her hand sliding under the skin to Riina’s shoulder. It felt as though an outside force were at work, pulling the mirror image of herself into a tight embrace.

  Tahiri met Riina’s wide-eyed stare again.

  We must embrace, she told her Yuuzhan Vong counterpart. Our cultures, our beliefs, our knowledge.

  Some of the fear ebbed from Riina’s gaze, then. We must embrace, she concurred. Our emotions, our lives, our selves.

  Tahiri took a deep breath as the knot of skin reached their heads and slowly pulled them together so that their noses were almost touching.

  The good and the bad, Riina said, her lips brushing lightly against Tahiri’s own.

  The light and the dark, Tahiri said. We must embrace …

  “It’s a trap!” Droma’s cry of alarm was echoed by C-3PO, who threw himself backward as the floor tipped beneath them and Millennium Falcon was sucked down into the gaping maw.

  Leia hung on desperately while Han struggled to reach the controls in front of him. From his annoyed expression, she knew that he was about to blast their way out of danger—and he wasn’t about to consult with the aliens before doing so, either.

  But there was something about the unfolding space ahead of them that caught Leia’s eye. Still gripping her seat, she leaned forward in the hope of getting a better look.

  “I think I know what it is!” she said.

  “I don’t care what it is! Anything intending to eat us is trouble!”

  “That’s not what it’s doing. Look!”

  All eyes in the cockpit turned to the display just as the maw fell shut around them. The light-enhancing algorithms adjusted to this new level of darkness, searching out infrared and other frequencies for information on their new environment. The Falcon seemed to be surrounded by numerous vertical columns, like teeth in an enormous mouth.

  But if it was a mouth, it wasn’t eating them. There was no rending, no crushing, nothing at all to indicate that they were about to be ingested into the belly of some giant subterranean beast.