by James Luceno
Khedryn examined it with a practiced eye while Marr hurried into Junker.
“Looks a little more than trivial. But if you say so.”
Khedryn and Jaden muscled the speeders up the landing ramp and into Junker’s hold. Jaden’s arm screamed every time he flexed his biceps, but he bore it.
“Hurts, yeah?” Khedryn asked.
Jaden tilted his head to acknowledge as much.
“We’ll see to it when we get aboard. A blaster wound, even a graze, is nothing to take lightly.”
“I’ve had blaster wounds before.”
“Yeah, me, too. That’s how I know they’re not to be taken lightly.” Khedryn chewed his lip, as if gathering his thoughts. “You asked how I knew Luke Skywalker.”
Hearing the Grand Master’s first name rather than his title sounded incongruous to Jaden. He had not heard anyone other than the Grand Master’s close friends and family refer to him as Luke in many years.
“My parents were children on Outbound Flight. They survived the crash in the Redoubt. I was born there, thirty-five standard years after the crash, give or take.”
The admission surprised Jaden—he imagined there were few survivors still alive. He was not sure what to say. He did the math in his head. “You were an adolescent when Grand Master Skywalker and Mara Jade Skywalker rescued you.”
“I was.” Khedryn’s expression softened, and he leaned against his swoop. “Mara was kind to me, to all of us. I was saddened when the vids reported her death.”
Jaden flashed on his vision, the sound of Mara’s voice in his ear on the windswept surface of the frozen moon.
“As was I. Your parents?”
Khedryn’s expression turned blank, but Jaden saw the pain beneath it.
“They died there, before we were rescued.”
“I’m sorry.”
Khedryn waved a hand to shoo away the memory. “Long time ago. Since then, I’ve been doing a little of this, a little of that, but I’m mostly settled on salvage these days.”
The roar of swoops flying over the hangar drew their eye, and both pulled blasters; Jaden’s free hand went to the hilt of his lightsaber. The running lights from half a dozen swoops and speeders buzzed past, blotting out the stars.
“Reegas’s thugs?” Jaden asked.
“Could be. Let’s get these aboard and get out of here,” Khedryn said.
Junker’s hold was packed to the crossbeams with storage containers, raw materials, unusable pieces of electronics and vehicles, and two landspeeders.
“Over there,” Khedryn said, nodding at an open space in the hold.
Once they had the speeders in the hold and secured, Khedryn lifted the landing ramp.
“You used the Force to affect that final sabacc hand?”
“I did. I would’ve changed the outcome of the hand when you lost the crystal, but Reegas or one of his lackeys nearby had some kind of handheld electronic cheater. By the time I realized that, you’d already lost.”
Khedryn slammed a fist on the seat of the swoop. “That spawn of a diseased bantha was cheating? And he called me a cheater?” He regarded Jaden from under his heavy brow. “I guess I owe you then, eh?”
Jaden did not bother to answer.
“This still isn’t a firm deal, though. Business is business.”
Marr’s voice broke over the ship’s speaker. “Ready for launch.”
Khedryn spoke into his collar comlink. “We are on our way up.”
When they reached the tight confines of the cockpit, Marr was already seated and working the instrumentation.
Jaden took in the consoles, the scanners. Junker had an amplified sensor array, probably to allow more thorough reception and scanning at longer distances. Jaden eyed Marr, trying to get a better sense of his Force sensitivity. He determined it was faint. Marr probably had no idea.
Khedryn sat, activated the communicator. “Farpoint Tower, this is Junker. We are hot and gone.”
He did not wait for an acknowledgment before flying the freighter out of the lit hangar and into the dark. Thrusters angled the ship skyward, and the night sky and its field of stars filled the transparisteel cockpit window.
“Chewstim?” Khedryn asked Marr.
The Cerean removed a square of chewstim from one of the dozen or so pockets in his jacket, offered it.
“Thanks.” Khedryn unwrapped it, chewed, blew a bubble, popped it. “And we’re off.”
Junker’s engines fired and the ship pelted toward outer space and, Jaden hoped, toward answers.
Khedryn and Marr flew Junker outside the orbit of Fhost’s moons, clear of gravity wells. The ship and cockpit took on the quiet serenity of a craft moving through the vacuum.
“What is our course?” Marr asked. The Cerean looked first to Khedryn, then to Jaden.
“About time for that talk, eh?” Khedryn said to Jaden, and swallowed his chewstim.
Jaden nodded. “About time.”
“Come into our office,” Khedryn said, and he and Marr led Jaden to the galley in the center of the ship. Neither Khedryn nor Marr had removed his blaster. Jaden understood their caution. He would have to earn their trust.
A large, custom viewport in the galley’s ceiling offered a view of space. The stars blinked down at them. A metal dining table and benches affixed to the floor afforded seating. A bar and built-in cabinets dominated one of the walls.
Khedryn went to the bar, took a caf pot large enough for a restaurant from an overhead storage bin, filled it with water, dropped in three pouches of grounds, and activated it. In moments the red brew light turned green. Khedryn removed the lid, and the smell of caf filled the galley. He poured two large mugs full and waved a third at Jaden.
“Caf? The ship and her crew run on it.”
“Yes, thank you,” Jaden said, and composed his thoughts.
Khedryn returned to the table with three steaming mugs of caf. Jaden took a sip and tried not to recoil at its bitterness.
“We prefer it strong,” Marr said.
“Any stronger and you’d have to eat it with a fork,” Jaden said.
Khedryn put his hands on the table and interlaced his fingers. Jaden noted the scars, the calluses. Marr put his hands under the table, near his blaster.
“Before we start,” Khedryn said. “Let me ask you something. Back in The Hole, when you stopped me in the common room, did you use the mind trick on me?”
Jaden saw no point in lying. “I did.”
Khedryn stared into his face, his eyes askew. “Don’t do it again.”
“All right.”
“Now, what’s your proposal?”
Jaden dived in. “The coordinates Reegas wanted. I want those, too.”
Both Khedryn and Marr tensed.
“I figured,” Khedryn said. He leaned back in his chair and threw an arm over its back, striking a casual pose. “You a salvager, Jedi? Or is there something else there?”
Jaden did not answer the question. “The rumors in Farpoint said the signal was an automated distress signal.”
“We think,” Khedryn said. “But there’s no life down there. Nobody for a Jedi to save.”
Except myself, Jaden thought.
“We don’t know that,” Marr said. “There could be life. I did not perform a thorough scan.”
Khedryn stared at Marr as if the Cerean had just admitted to being a Sith. “Right. Thanks, Marr.”
Jaden said, “I understand it originated on a moon at the far end of the system.”
“And?” Khedryn asked.
Jaden tried to hold his calm even while he flashed back on his Force vision. He realized with alarm that he could be wrong, that Khedryn and Marr might have found a moon, but not the moon from the vision. He tried to read their faces as he said, “It’s a frozen moon orbiting a blue, ringed gas giant.”
Khedryn and Marr shared a glance.
“You have been there?” Marr said.
Jaden exhaled, relieved. “No. But I’ve seen it.”
&nb
sp; “What?” Khedryn asked.
“Tell me about it,” Jaden said. “What drew your attention to it? How’d you pick up the signal?”
Marr took a long draw on his caf cup. His short, graying hair formed a ruff around the mountain of his skull. He furrowed his brow as he thought back, the lines forming cryptic characters on his forehead. “We were returning from another … situation and had to take a roundabout course back.”
Jaden understood the Cerean to mean that they had been involved in something illicit, that it had gone wrong, and that they’d had to run. He gestured for Marr to continue.
“We stopped in a remote system so I could recalculate our course and we caught a signal of the kind you described.”
Jaden’s skin turned to gooseflesh. “Did you record it?”
“Of course,” Marr said. “But I haven’t yet been able to break its encryption.”
Khedryn drained his cup, set it down on the table. “Let’s slow down here.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, sniffed the air. “Stang but I need a shower. I smell like The Hole.”
Jaden ignored the conversational detour. “You want to get back to the why.”
“No,” Khedryn said. “I want to get to the how much. That’ll tell me what I need to know about the why.”
Jaden cleared his throat, studied his hands, finally said, “I can offer you two thousand credits now and another seven thousand after I confirm the moon is what I’m after and we return.”
“Two thousand credits up front?” Khedryn leaned back in his chair, the hint of derision in the curl of his lip. “Marr?”
“Two thousand credits would barely cover operating costs.”
“Barely covers operating costs,” Khedryn echoed.
Jaden, in no mood for haggling, leaned forward in his chair. “I do not have time for this, Captain. Much may depend on this.”
“For whom?”
Jaden stared into Khedryn’s tanned, lined face. “For me.”
Khedryn held his gaze for a time. “Didn’t I say he had those eyes, Marr?”
“You did.”
“And doesn’t he?”
“He does.”
“What eyes?” Jaden asked, but Khedryn ignored him.
“How do you suppose he’ll look when he and his haunted eyes get out in the deep black and what he’s looking for out there ain’t there, after all.”
“Not good, Captain.”
“Not good. That’s right.”
“Why don’t you leave that to me,” Jaden said, fighting back irritation.
Khedryn stood. “Because you are sitting in my galley in my ship.” He walked over to bar, refilled his caf. “Marr?”
“Yes, please,” the Cerean said.
Khedryn returned to the table with the pot, refilled Marr’s cup, even topped off Jaden’s.
“I think this is where we part ways, Jaden Korr. This smells like some Jedi grand scheme, and I’ve seen what comes of those.”
Jaden understood the oblique reference to Outbound Flight. Jaden had seen what came of Jedi grand schemes, too. Centerpoint and everyone on it exploded in a Jedi grand scheme.
“That’s not really how we work,” Marr added, and Jaden detected the hint of an apology in the Cerean’s tone.
“Even after what Master Skywalker did for you?”
Khedryn stiffened, his fingers white around the handle of his caf pot. Still standing, he said, “I owe Luke and Mara Skywalker. Not the Jedi Order.”
Jaden felt his plans crumbling. His own fists clenched. He saw Marr tense and took a moment to calm himself. “I don’t want the salvage. I just … need to see it.”
Marr’s eyes formed a question. “Why?”
Khedryn said, “That sounds a bit more personal than you’ve let on.”
Jaden offered the truth. “No one in the Order knows I am here. This may have consequences for the Order, but this … isn’t about that.”
Khedryn slid into his seat, and his tone softened. “Explain, please.”
Jaden took a drink of caf, savoring the bitterness. “I had a vision. Given me by the Force.”
He noticed Marr staring intently at him with his blue eyes and wondered if Marr had experienced his own visions.
Jaden went on: “I saw in that vision what I believe—now more than ever—to be your moon.”
Khedryn smiled, shook his head. “I knew it was something like that. Those eyes.”
“And?” Marr asked. “You saw it in what context? What drew you all the way out here?”
Jaden licked his lips. “The vision involved … symbolism that wouldn’t make much sense to you.” He sighed. “Listen, I am asking you to trust me. I am not interested in salvage or taking anything that’s there. I just need … I just need to stand on it, see it, understand what it means.”
The silence sat heavy between them. The stars streamed past in the viewport above. Thoughts turned behind Khedryn’s and Marr’s eyes. Jaden could do nothing but wait for them to render their verdict. He would not take the coordinates by force or contrivance. He had already taken a life—warranted, he thought—but he had no intention of pushing matters further.
Khedryn finished another cup of caf. “See, Marr, this I can understand. The man has something personal at stake here. And he’s willing to pay five thousand credits up front to set foot on a frozen moon spinning out in the middle of nowhere. I can get behind that.”
“As can I,” Marr said thoughtfully.
“It’s done then,” Khedryn said.
“I said two thousand credits up front,” Jaden said.
“Did you?” Khedryn asked.
Jaden smiled and shook his head. “All right. Five it is.”
Khedryn smiled. “More caf?”
Jaden decided the man guzzled caf the way a star cruiser guzzled fuel. “No thank you,” he said, and looked Khedryn and Marr in the face. “And … thank you.”
“Marr will plot the course,” Khedryn said, extending his hand. “We’ll leave immediately. Done deal?”
Jaden shook his hand. “Done. And Captain …”
Khedryn raised his eyebrows, waiting.
“I look at you and I see the same eyes you see in me. So what is it you’re looking for?”
Khedryn smiled, but Jaden saw that it was forced. “Nah, that’s just my floater, Jedi.” He pointed at his lazy eye. “Helps me see the angles. Me, I’m just a junk jockey flying the black. I’m happy with that.”
“Of course you are,” Jaden said, but he knew better. Khedryn was searching for something out in the black of space, the same as Jaden.
Jaden looked to Marr, who was staring at Khedryn. “Marr, the recorded signal?”
Marr nodded. “Certainly.”
Marr disappeared for a time, returned with a data crystal and his portcomp. He inserted the crystal and pressed a few keys. The hollowness of an open channel started the recording, followed by a faint, repeated recitation, the encrypted sound unintelligible as language, but reminiscent in its repetition of an ancient rite, a magic spell of summoning.
Jaden leaned in close, his skin stippled with goose bumps, listening to an echo from the past, decades-old ghosts calling to them through time.
Marr said, “As I said, I haven’t been able to decrypt it—”
“No need,” Jaden said, and turned it off. “It’s Imperial. I can tell from the cadence. Probably an automated distress call, as you suspected.”
In the privacy of his mind, the voice from his vision sang out: Help us. Help us.
“Take me to this moon,” Jaden said.
Junker was prepared to jump. Khedryn blew and popped bubbles with such rapidity, they sounded like a repeating blaster.
“You always jaw a chewstim before a jump?” Jaden asked him.
“Before liftoff, before a landing, before a jump. Sometimes just because I think things will get hairy.”
Jaden smiled at Khedryn’s superstition while he raised R6 on subspace. The astromech’s questioning beep answered his
hail. Jaden stared out into the black of the deep system as he spoke and made his last confession to his droid.
“Two standard weeks, Arsix, then return to Coruscant. Tell Grand Master Skywalker that I was doing what I thought I must. Do you understand?”
Khedryn and Marr pretended not to hear as R6 beeped acquiescence.
“Clear to jump,” Marr said.
Khedryn swallowed his chewstim. “Do the math and let’s turn her loose.”
The Cerean tapped keys on the navicomp so quickly that Jaden could barely follow. Complex calculations appeared on the screen, numerological puzzles so baffling to Jaden that they might as well have been another language. Marr solved them as if by magic, relying on the navicomp processor only to confirm his calculations. His Force presence flared as he worked.
“Confirm,” Marr said, after tapping a key, and the navicomp did so. Another string of numbers, another solution.
“Confirm.”
Jaden had heard of Cerean math savants but hardly expected to encounter one on the fringes of the Unknown Regions, copiloting a salvage ship, much less one with Force sensitivity. He felt Khedryn’s eyes on him.
“Like magic, ain’t it?” said Khedryn, smiling.
“You have no idea,” Jaden answered.
Marr seemed not to hear them, lost as he was in a world of numbers and operators. It took the Cerean longer than it would have taken the navicomp to plot their course, but not much.
“Course plotted,” Marr said.
“Off we go,” Khedryn said, and engaged the hyperdrive.
Stars stretched, giving way to the blue spirals of hyperspace.
“It will take three separate jumps,” Khedryn said. “Why not grab some sleep? You look like you could use it. There are racks in the rooms off the galley. I will wake you when we arrive.”
Jaden was tired, bone-tired, and still feeling the ache of the blaster wound. “I think I will. Thank you, Captain. Thanks for everything, both of you.”
“No need for thanks,” Khedryn said, and winked his lazy eye. “Just be sure to pay me on time.”
Jaden picked his way through the ship—memorizing the layout, a habit of his—found a rack in a room off the galley, and lay down. He stared up at the metal of the low ceiling, shadowed in the dim light, wondering what he would find when he reached the moon.
