Remnant: Force Heretic I

by Sean Williams

  “Where’s Jaina?” she asked.

  “Sleeping. She said to say hi when you woke up.”

  Disappointed, Tahiri nodded and looked down at her folded hands. She didn’t know why she wanted to talk to Jaina so badly, or what she would say when she did. That she was sorry she hadn’t been able to save Anakin the way he had saved her? That she missed him as much as Jaina did? No, what she wanted to say, what she needed to say, could never be said—not to Jaina, not to anyone.

  She looked again to her arms, wondering at the wounds underneath the bandages. She remembered doing it to herself, remembered seeing herself do it, but she had been unable to stop herself.

  She closed her eyes, wanting to shut out the thought. But it was impossible. The thoughts were always with her these days, waking or sleeping.

  “Is Master Luke angry at me for missing the meeting of the Jedi?” she asked.

  “No, of course not,” he said, laughing lightly. “Uncle Luke isn’t the sort to get angry about stuff like that. Trust me, he’s more concerned about your well-being. Actually, he had been hoping to take you along on this new mission with us. He thought you could use some time away from all the action. But given your condition, it was decided that perhaps it would be best if you rested some more.”

  “Mission?” she asked, the beginnings of dismay creeping into her voice. “What mission?”

  “We’re looking for something,” he said. “I don’t know how long it will take us—or even where we’re going, for that matter—but I do know it’s something we have to do. If we don’t, we could end up losing the war—even if we end up beating the Yuuzhan Vong.”

  She frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “It depends on how you look at it,” he said.

  “And how do you look at it, Jacen?”

  “Honestly?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, personally I think the worst thing we could do would be to wipe out the Yuuzhan Vong.”

  Her frown deepened at this. “Why?”

  Jacen stood, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. “We already know that they’ll never give up,” he explained, moving around the bed. “They’ll just keep fighting until they’re all dead. But when they’re gone, where does that leave us? I don’t know about you, Tahiri, but I don’t particularly want genocide on my conscience.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, he went on.

  “I know what you’re probably thinking: if the Yuuzhan Vong don’t register in the Force, then why should we care if we wiped them out? But I don’t think it’s that simple, Tahiri. The Force isn’t just about what happens to living things; it’s also about what living things do to one another. No matter how you look at it, if we win by military means alone, then we’ll end up committing an atrocity, and there’s no way I can explain such an action without resorting to the dark side. I refuse to accept that there is no alternative.”

  She stared at him, taken by the passion in his voice. This was a Jacen she had never seen before. Committed and sure of himself, he was no longer the teenager she had come to know. His experiences on Coruscant had changed him. He was so much more the adult now.

  “Do you remember Vergere?” he asked after a few moments’ silence.

  “Of course.” The change in subject puzzled her.

  “She told me something before she died.” There was a slight deepening of the lines around his eyes as he spoke, and his hands fiddled with the railing at the foot of the bed. “She told me about a place she once visited—long before you or I were ever born, Tahiri. It was a world unlike any other in the galaxy. The people who lived there had a reputation for building starships. But not just any starships. These were without equal—starships that could outperform anything built even today. She was sent by the Jedi Council on a mission to find the shipbuilders, even though there were those who thought the planet little more than a myth. She was successful: she found the planet and its inhabitants; she saw the marvelous starships in operation—and many other things, for that matter, things the likes of which no one had ever dreamed possible. It had jungles and vast forests; but they were not shunted aside or eaten away in the name of industry. This was a world in balance.”

  His eyes gleamed with the wonder of this secondhand vision.

  “Vergere fell in love with the place,” he went on, “rejoicing in its jungles, its many forms of life, the way it seemed to her to be a living hymn to the Force. But she failed to guess the truth underlying what she saw—at first, anyway, even though it had been under her nose right from the beginning. The thing about those starships made on the planet, the thing that made them really special, is that they were alive.”

  Tahiri’s eyes narrowed. “Like the Yuuzhan Vong ships?”

  He nodded. “These were no ordinary ships, Tahiri,” he said. “They lived and breathed and died just like any other being. They were alive like you and me, like any living thing. And so was the planet that made them.”

  “The planet—?” she started, incredulously. If it hadn’t been Jacen telling her all this, and had he not been so earnest in his telling, she might have laughed the whole thing off as a joke. But he was serious; this was real.

  “Its name was Zonama Sekot,” he said. “It was a living being in its own right, one of the most wondrous things this galaxy has ever produced.”

  Tahiri felt a strange tingling sensation go through her. “ ‘Was’?” she echoed.

  “Not long after Vergere arrived, aliens came and attacked it. Zonama Sekot referred to these aliens as ‘Far Outsiders.’ We know now that these Far Outsiders were the Yuuzhan Vong—possibly a reconnaissance party sent to explore the galaxy before the actual invasion. The planet had been negotiating with these Outsiders for months, Vergere learned. The Yuuzhan Vong were fascinated by it, as you can imagine. A living planet would not be so different from one of the worldships that they used to cross the great gulf between galaxies.”

  “So what happened?” Tahiri prompted when Jacen went quiet as if in thought.

  He looked up. “The Yuuzhan Vong attacked and Zonama Sekot fled,” he said. “The whole planet—moved. It changed systems, and hasn’t been seen since.”

  “Moved?” Tahiri echoed. “Just like that?”

  He nodded. “There’s no mention of it in any records anywhere. It’s as though it completely vanished.”

  “And you’re going looking for it—this living planet?”

  “Exciting, isn’t it?” he said, coming back around to her side and sitting on her bed. “Vergere told me that the Yuuzhan Vong, in their own way, revere life. Not as a Jedi reveres life, cherishing each individual as a component of the Force that is both life and greater than life, but rather in their own perverse way. Their reverence for life, she said, is mixed with notions of pain and death. This fascinated me, and still does. It underpins their entire culture. I’ve always felt that if we could understand this ideology better, then we would understand them better.

  “Call it an instinct,” he went on. “Zonama Sekot is the key to the whole thing—to victory. I’m sure of it. That’s why Vergere told me about it. It might help us find a way to turn back the Yuuzhan Vong. It did it once before, after all, if on a smaller scale.”

  “Maybe it can make us ships as good as or better than the Yuuzhan Vong’s coralskippers.” Tahiri marveled at the thought. “How do you intend to find it?”

  He shrugged. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s done a very good job of staying hidden all this time, so tracking it down isn’t going to be easy. When I talked about it with Uncle Luke, there was only one conclusion we could come to: if it hasn’t been seen, then it has to be in the Unknown Regions. There’s nowhere else it could be. A fertile world is not exactly the sort of thing that would be omitted from a ship’s log.”

  “Let alone a world that has appeared out of nowhere,” Tahiri added. “Or has a mind of its own.”

  “Exactly,” Jacen said. “It’s literally the stuf
f of legends. And in the absence of rumors, we have to go chasing them ourselves. We’re stopping at the Empire first, since their territory borders the Unknown Regions; they might have information we can use. And then there’s the Chiss: they’ve explored the Unknown Regions much more than we have; they’ll have access to a wealth of data—”

  “If they’ll share it with you. Either of them.”

  “We’ll just have to talk them into it.”

  Jacen withdrew into himself for a moment, and Tahiri took the chance to collect her own thoughts. It all sounded very unlikely: living planets, old Jedi missions, wild crusades into the galaxy’s darkest regions, Yuuzhan Vong prophecies. But she knew to keep an open mind. After all, stranger things had happened in his family’s history …

  A twinge of pain accompanied the thought. Had Anakin lived, it might have been her family, too, by now.

  She pushed the thought down as far as it would go. It whispered that she should tell him everything, exactly how she felt and all she suspected was happening to her. But she couldn’t. Jacen had more important things to worry about, even apart from Zonama Sekot; he had been grappling with Jedi philosophy so deeply and for so long that the smaller concerns of those around him might seem trivial, perhaps even silly. She had no evidence, after all, that the things she was experiencing were anything more than nightmares, even though they felt so real.

  “Is Jaina going with you?” she asked, shrugging free of the uncomfortable train of thought.

  “Hmm?” Jacen broke from his own reverie. “Oh, no. She has other work to do—with Mom and Dad. Sometimes it seems like we’re spending most of the war apart.” He looked sad. “But if you’re worrying that you won’t be seeing her, don’t. She’ll be in tomorrow, when she’s caught up on her sleep. And speaking of which …”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m keeping you up. You already said that you wanted to get some—”

  “No, Tahiri.” He laughed. “Actually, I was meaning you. You said you’ve not been sleeping very well lately.”

  She nodded cautiously, not wanting to encourage questions along those lines.

  “Okay,” he said. “So relax for a moment and close your eyes.” He edged closer as she did as he asked; at the same time the back of the bed lowered, and he placed his splayed his fingers across her forehead and temples. In the shadow of his hand, she smelled Anakin and bit her lip.

  “I just want to try something,” she heard him say.

  And that was the last she knew for an endless, timeless moment.

  She awoke again to sunlight streaming through the room’s wide and opened viewport, the sound of water crashing against the city walls, and the smell of salt on the air. The transition from night to day was so jarring that, for a moment, she didn’t know where she was. But with a quick glance around the med room, it all came rushing back.

  What had Jacen done to her? She felt rested for the first time in weeks, certainly, but instead of gratitude, she was left with a sense of betrayal. There was a strange feeling behind her eyes, as though someone had been poking around in there while she slept.

  Jacen was nowhere to be seen, which was only to be expected. On the bedside table, under a jug of blue milk, she noticed a small piece of flimsiplast. Taking it, she unfolded the note, immediately recognizing the neat, confident handwriting as belonging to Anakin’s older brother.

  It read, simply:

  You will always be family to us. J.

  Family. She sat up and hugged herself as though from a sudden chill. She had been thinking about family just before Jacen had put her to sleep, however he had done it. The reference seemed too pointed to be a coincidence. He must have taken the thought from her mind, and—

  Did he see my dreams, too? she wondered, fearfully. And if so, did he also see …?

  She dispelled the disquieting thought by taking the piece of flimsi and tearing it into tiny pieces. Then, stepping over to the window, she released the pieces to the wind and watched them until they had all disappeared into the rough waters below.

  The training mat took the bulk of the impact, but the fall still left Jagged Fel winded. He lay gasping on his back for a moment, then levered himself upright.

  “Nice move,” he said, massaging the muscles in his left shoulder. “For a scruffy rebel, anyway.”

  He stood, dropping into the classic Chiss “Forbelean Defense” stance. From such a position, virtually all forms of attack could be deflected. On the opposite side of the mat, Jaina Solo dusted off her loose-fitting training outfit.

  “You aristocrats are all the same, aren’t you?” she joked. “Underneath that tough exterior, you’re all as soft as Mon Cal jellyfish.”

  “And that coming from the daughter of a princess!”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but he didn’t give her a chance to say anything. Instead he lunged at her for another attack. Two half paces forward took him within arm’s reach. Ducking to avoid the defensive feint he knew she’d use, he brought one shoulder up to deflect her arm and his body and right leg around to sweep her off her feet. If he surprised her at all, she didn’t let it show. Instead she jumped lightly as his sweeping kick caught her feet. Seemingly effortlessly, she used the momentum of his blow to spin her body around its center of mass, landing, in apparent defiance of gravity, on one hand, upside down. It lasted only a split second, but it was all she needed. Her left leg transferred her angular momentum back to him via his chest, sending him flying. Before he had even hit the mat again, she had cart-wheeled back on to her feet and was standing, poised and at the ready, waiting patiently for him to recover.

  He sat up, rubbing at his chest. “Sith spawn, Jaina!” His lungs felt like a clawcraft with a leak into vacuum. “That hurt.”

  “It serves you right,” she said, barely breathing heavily. “My dad always said you should never let someone get away with calling you ‘scruffy.’ ” Seeing that he wasn’t in a hurry to get up and retaliate, she relaxed her posture. “Besides, I thought the Chiss never attacked first.”

  “Yeah, well,” he mumbled, propping himself up some more. “You insulted my father.”

  “I also thought they didn’t let their hearts rule their heads during combat.”

  “That was for using the Force during an unarmed sparring match—”

  “But I hadn’t used it yet,” Jaina quickly pointed out, stepping over to him.

  “I could tell you were about to, though.”

  “Really? Then you must have the Force, too, my friend.” She smiled down at him and offered a hand to help him up. “Can you tell what I’m thinking now?”

  He took the hand and pulled her down onto the mat with him. “Can you tell me what I’m thinking?”

  I want to be very much more than your friend, Jaina Solo, he thought.

  Her smile widened as she entangled her legs in his and leaned in closer to him. “I don’t need the Force to know that.”

  They kissed—only briefly, but it was enough so that when they pulled apart again, her breathing had quickened. It pleased Jag to know that while she could kick him halfway across the room and not break a sweat, it took a simple kiss from him to set her heart racing. So he kissed her again, longer this time, enjoying the feel of her lips against his. He didn’t allow any thoughts of honor or propriety to get in the way of the moment, either. On this occasion he was more than happy to let his heart rule his head. Opportunities for the two of them to be alone were rare—too rare not to be taken advantage of.

  He hadn’t told her yet that this was the main reason why he had fought for their inclusion on her parents’ mission. Yes, he was feeling like a finely spun wire, likely to break if stretched any tighter, but he knew he would keep fighting well beyond reason if the war demanded it. His Chiss training emphasized the need for regular rest in order to perform at one’s best. All of the members of the Chiss Squadron knew that, too. But he could see the fatigue in their eyes, and even he had made mistakes recently. His second in command had pointe
d that out. She wasn’t innocent herself, she had admitted, but it was his job to know better, she said. And, of course, she was right.

  The diplomatic mission was a godsend, then—a way of making sure everyone got some rest while still performing a valuable duty, and at the same time it gave him a chance to spend more time with Jaina.

  Jaina broke for air and sat back with her hands resting on his chest. Jag wondered if she could feel the beating of his heart through his thin training uniform.

  “Duty calls,” she said after a moment. “And I’d like to see Tahiri beforehand.” She pulled a regretful face. “Sorry.”

  “The only thing you should feel sorry for, Jaina Solo, is cheating.”

  She playfully punched his shoulder before standing. “Winning is everything.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  Her expression turned serious for a moment. “I think I did, once,” she said. Then she stretched out her hand once more. “Come on.”

  He took her proffered hand, this time allowing her to help him to his feet. Halfway up, however, she let go and he fell back with a thump onto the mat.

  “You’re far too trusting, Jag,” she said, smiling. With a wink, she headed for the showers.

  They briefly reconnected again afterward. Side by side, not touching, they walked toward the infirmary, where she was to see Tahiri before meeting with her parents to go over their plans one more time. He would go on to a meeting with her uncle and aunt. They would need all the information he could give them on the Chiss if they were seriously planning to go to the Unknown Regions expecting help.

  As they walked, Jag rubbed at his breastbone. It was still tender from the last kick she had delivered.

  “I’m sorry if I fought you hard today,” she said, noting his discomfort. “I’m just …” She shrugged. “I don’t know, Jag. I guess I’m a little angry about being put out of action.”