Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi: Ascension

by Christie Golden

  “Set a thief to catch a thief,” Luke said, rather glumly.

  “Something like that,” Jaina said. Her face split into an impish grin. “You know it always works when we send my dad out after people with shady reputations.”

  “Can’t argue with success,” Luke said, allowing himself a small smile.

  “Two,” Jaina continued, “Ship really does have a bond with her. That means if we get her near him, even if we can’t find him, he’ll be able to find her.”

  “Why does that thought not fill me with delight?” Luke asked rhetorically.

  “It should,” Jaina said, ignoring the sarcasm and choosing to address the question literally. “Even if he attacks, he’d be showing himself. And that’s what we want, right?”

  Luke was forced to agree. “You make a persuasive argument.”

  “Jag must be rubbing off on me,” she said. “In all seriousness though, Vestara Khai is a unique asset. We should make use of her.”

  Luke sighed. “I am still very, very leery of bringing her along with us. I think it’s asking for trouble.” He had been looking down at the rapidly cooling cup of caf, but now he lifted his eyes to her. “She’s Sith, Jaina. Not just a dabbler, not a victim, not a fallen Jedi. Born and raised in an entire community of Sith. I’m convinced she’s not going to throw that aside and wholeheartedly join us, but I know Ben still thinks she can be redeemed.”

  “There are those,” commented Jaina drily, “who still think you can’t be redeemed. Or Grandfather. Or Aunt Mara. Or Kyp Durron, or—”

  Luke held up his hand. “Point made. But those were different.”

  “Were they? Or do you just want to think they’re different because you’re worried about your son getting hurt?”

  Luke opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again. Jaina was right. His very quickness to respond negatively was proof of that. While Jedi did have to make split-second decisions over life-and-death matters, they were also not supposed to react emotionally, or to rush down a path recklessly. And he was doing precisely that.

  “I do worry about Ben,” he admitted. “He’s a strong young man. And wise—much wiser than I was at his age. And no, you don’t have to agree with me,” he added as Jaina drew breath to speak. They smiled at each other. “I don’t think for a moment she’ll bring him over to the dark side. But I think he might get hurt—physically and emotionally—because he wants this so badly. He cares for her, Jaina. I can feel it.”

  “Which means she can, too, most likely,” Jaina said. “I don’t want to get overly sentimental here, Uncle Luke, but—don’t underestimate the power of love. It’s pulled two family members back from the dark side already. Ben may be sixteen, but he’s not a fool.” She leaned forward, her dark eyes intense. “Maybe if he believes she’s redeemable … it’s because she is.”

  Luke was silent. “All right,” he said at last. “Vestara can come with us to Korriban. But we are going to be watching her every minute.”

  “Of course we will. And drink your caf, it’s getting cold.”

  LUKE WASN’T HAPPY ABOUT ANY OF THIS. NOT ABOUT NOT KNOWING where either Abeloth or the Sith were, not about having to visit Korriban and other Sith-steeped locales, and especially not about having a Sith girl with them on said jaunts.

  She was a danger. Luke knew it. Was there a chance that Ben and Jaina were right, that Vestara could indeed be won over to the light side of the Force? Of course there was. There was always hope. But there were also odds. And Luke knew that the odds were stacked—heavily—against that possibility.

  He had at one point, years earlier, banned all navigation data regarding Korriban from Jedi computers, and asked the Galactic Alliance to do the same. Now that decision came back to bite him. Jaina had set Natua Wan the task of going through ancient, locked-up records in order to find anything of use. Luke half hoped the Falleen would fail in her task, but she—along with, presumably, more able researchers—had uncovered sufficient information for their purposes.

  The closer they drew to the ancient Sith world, the quieter they all became. The only one who seemed excited about the prospect was, of course, Vestara.

  Luke had pressed her to tell him what she knew about the place, considering that at one point she had had access to the Omen’s data banks, and somewhat to his surprise, she agreed.

  “The term Sith actually refers to a species of red-skinned beings who were native to Korriban,” she began. “The Sith today are descendants of Jedi who chose to follow the dark side of the Force rather than the light side. There was a war in which the Dark Jedi were exiled. They arrived on Korriban and, much like my own people with the Keshiri, were received almost as gods because of their ability to harness and direct the Force. They assumed the name Lords of the Sith, not because they were Sith, but because they were their masters. They figured out a way to mingle their DNA with that of the Sith natives, and gradually that species became extinct. I myself might have some Sith DNA.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Luke noticed an expression that might have been a wince flickering over Ben’s face.

  Vestara continued. “The Sith had strictly defined castes—a slave caste, a religious caste, an engineer caste, and a warrior caste. There was no transitioning from one to the other.” She smirked a little. “That is, I think, where the Lost Tribe is superior. When we arrived on Kesh, we did not believe in such divisions. Any Keshiri could rise according to his ability with the Force—as you have seen.”

  “And that makes you better?” Jaina asked. She leaned against the bulkhead, her arms crossed. She was regarding the girl with, if not open hostility, at least healthy dislike plain on her face.

  “Yes,” Vestara said simply. She looked at Luke. “Surely you agree, Master Luke. Or do you think it’s better to deny beings the right to grow and achieve simply because of their birth?”

  It was an argument Luke could not win. “Next you’ll ask me when I stopped beating my son. Neither is preferable, Vestara. There is no better or worse; there is only the dark side.” And if she were truly moving to the light side, he thought, but did not say, then she would understand that.

  Vestara did not react, merely continued. “The Sith Empire thrived, until its discovery by …” She cocked her head, thinking, biting her lower lip in concentration and looking like an ordinary girl trying to recall her lessons. “Gav and Jori Daragon. That discovery led to the Great Hyperspace War, which I understand the Sith lost. It was during that time that the Omen crashed, and I’m afraid I don’t know very much after that.”

  “Ship didn’t tell you?” Luke couldn’t read Ben, which was unusual for him. He didn’t seem overly skeptical, nor innocently inquiring. Ben was, Luke realized, in his gathering information mode. His time with the Galactic Alliance Guard had taught him the value of a methodical approach, one in which all evidence was considered. Ben was doing exactly that—asking questions, listening, and observing.

  “Some,” Vestara said. “But there were many other things that Ship thought were more important. The Sith have a varied and complex history, and Ship wished us to live in the present, not the past. We spent more time learning about how things are currently in the galaxy.”

  “Like learning about me and Dad,” Ben said, again speaking in a calm, impartial voice. Investigating.

  “Yes,” she answered, unruffled. “You would have done the same, would you not?”

  “I … suppose I would have.”

  “All you really need to know about the Sith on Korriban is that we believe they haven’t been there for some time,” Luke said. “The place has become a burial ground. It’s more important for us to be aware of potential dangers we might encounter.”

  “The burial-ground aspect is itself a great danger,” Vestara said quietly. “The area will be strong with the dark side. And … I am told that things can be created with the dark side of the Force.”

  Luke nodded. “That’s true. The general catchall term is demon.”

  “Works
for me,” Ben said. Luke could tell now that he was making his voice even with an effort. Ben had had a close brush with such “demons” on Ziost two years earlier. No doubt he was recalling those long days and nights as he spoke.

  “There are other, less spectral dangers as well, though,” Luke said. Both Ben and Vestara looked suitably solemn as Luke called up a hologram.

  The creature resembled a rancor—if rancors had sharp spines bristling down their backs and large tusks. “This is a terentatek,” Luke said. “They can be found in several places around the galaxy, but they originated on Korriban. Some say they are products of Sith alchemy. Others think they were simply rancors twisted with dark-side energy. Regardless, they are aggressive and deadly. Those claws,” he said, indicating the enormous three-fingered hands, “and their tusks are poisonous. Since they like to live in caves and other places where dark-side energy is strong, and since that’s exactly where we’ll be going, we might run across some.”

  He touched another button. This time, the beast that appeared looked like a canine. Sort of. Its eyes were red and glowing, and its paws had sharp claws. A whip-like tail lashed as they watched it.

  “This is a tuk’ata,” Luke said. “Also known as a Sith hound. They are guardians of the tombs.”

  “Which, don’t tell me, is exactly where we’re going,” said Ben.

  Luke nodded. “They also live on other worlds, but they originated here.”

  “Sounds like Korriban exports a lot of things,” Vestara said.

  “I’ve seen one,” Jaina said. Her arms were folded across her chest as she regarded the beast. “On Yavin Four. They’re sentient—at least somewhat. I’ve heard that it can understand the ancient Sith language. In this case, it understood gratitude, at least. It left us alone after—after Jacen healed it.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Luke again thought what a tragedy that the young Jacen Solo, with his great heart and gentle love of animals, had somehow—and inevitably so—become Darth Caedus.

  There were more things to beware, most of them lurking in caves in or around the Valley of the Dark Lords. Bat-like shyracks dwelled in the darkness of the caves. Reptiles thrived on this world. Clay-footed wraids, also found on the desert world of Tatooine, lumbered the sands of the planet. The waters housed dark-side dragons with the onomatopoeic name hssiss, and the sand was rife with pelko bugs. These insects were attracted to Force-sensitives, and their toxin produced a numbing effect that, depending on how many swarmed upon one, could paralyze.

  “Let’s see,” Ben recapped. “Dark-side demons and dragons, Sith hounds, mutated rancors, deadly bats, and paralyzing bugs. Sounds like business as usual.”

  Vestara gave them all a sudden grin, reached under her seat, and produced a small spray canister of droch repellent. “We’re ready for at least one of those creatures,” she said, and even Luke found himself smiling.

  KORRIBAN

  A few hours later, none of them was smiling as Luke brought the Jade Shadow into Korriban’s atmosphere.

  They passed over a settlement, a dilapidated spaceport surrounded by small clusters of buildings that made up a sort of village. Luke knew this place better than he would have liked; there was no need to get involved with the locals. If the Lost Sith Tribe were hiding here, the locals would either not know or be too frightened to reveal anything of use, and he had no desire to make his presence here more public than it had to be.

  “It’s so … barren,” Vestara murmured as they flew over the desolate place.

  “Welcome to what happens to a planet steeped in the dark side,” Jaina said. “Use, abuse, and discard. That’s the Sith for you.”

  “But our world is not—” Vestara fell silent. Ben gave her a quick glance, though it was hard to tear his gaze from the disturbing but oddly compelling sight of this rocky and sandy world. She still kept anything about Kesh that might reveal its location a closely guarded secret. Ben supposed he couldn’t blame her, and in a way welcomed the reminder that, funny and smart and beautiful as Vestara might be, until she could truly prove otherwise, he had to be careful around her.

  It was not a reminder he enjoyed.

  They were heading right for the Valley of the Dark Lords. “It’s the most logical place to begin our search,” Luke had said. “The holy of holies for the Sith. If they’re hiding here, they’ll gravitate to the place that has the strongest dark-side energy—and that’s the valley.”

  Ben shivered slightly. He could feel it, and knew everyone else could, too; a sort of heavy, sinister tugging, as if his clothes were weighted with water, dragging him down to the depths. He’d felt this before, on Ziost, and this time was very glad to have his father and cousin as company.

  And, odd as it seemed, Vestara. This was a rare chance for her to prove her loyalties—one way or the other—and if she was truly, as Ben believed, coming over to the light side, her knowledge would be a gift and not a curse.

  A gift from the dark side. How about that?

  Her face was alert, attentive, and unlike Luke, Jaina, and Ben himself, she appeared to be utterly comfortable with the energies wafting up from this ancient world. He recalled seeing a similar expression on her face on Klatooine, when the turbolift had stopped on a floor that was home to several establishments that provided very exotic entertainments catering to the less savory desires of beings, and he felt again the shadow of doubt fall cool on his heart.

  He shook it off. This place would indeed challenge Vestara—but it would challenge the three Jedi, as well. Mistrust, fear, suspicion—all those were tools of the dark side. Ben was sure this place would like nothing better than to cause division among them, turn them against one another, make Vestara feel that she had no place with the Jedi.

  Ben wasn’t going to let that happen.

  “With all that dark-side energy swirling around, it’s going to be hard to tell if there are any Sith down there at all,” he said. “Particularly if they know how to hide themselves in the Force.”

  “I won’t know for certain, but I might be able to help there,” Vestara said. “I know many of the Lost Tribe members who came on the mission. I might be able to discern their presences more easily than you can.”

  Luke nodded. “Another reason we’re allowing you to come with us,” he said. He tweaked the controls slightly, and Ben saw they were heading directly toward a notched mountain. As it grew larger in the viewscreen, Ben felt his stomach tighten as the light, dim to begin with, grew even darker around them. As if some thick, toxic cloud was blocking the light and air. Which, Ben mused, it kind of was.

  The single mountain turned out to be merely the dominant one over a whole range, a dark and ominous massif that towered over the valley below it.

  At the mouth of the valley, there was a ruined citadel. And lining the walls of the valley, some distance back so they towered alone, were enormous stone statues of various figures.

  Some of them were hooded, their heads bowed, ominous even as they seemed to be obeisant; more symbolic figures than any representation of an individual. Others were clearly meant to represent specific Dark Lords—towering, prideful, sending chills along Ben’s spine as he looked into empty carved eyes. Steps led upward into what he knew were sealed tombs.

  Sith from the luckless slave caste had been sealed in there as well, to tend their masters in the afterlife … once they themselves had died. Dozens slowly starved to death, or were perhaps aided on that journey by tuk’ata, which were also sealed inside the tombs.

  All in all, even if the place hadn’t been wrapped in the smothering feeling of dark-side tendrils, it would have been unsettling. Ben realized he was clenching his fists as his father brought the Shadow in for a landing near the citadel ruins.

  Luke didn’t rise immediately; he looked at each of them in turn. “No splitting up or wandering off. We stay within sight of one another at all times. Use your comlink to speak to anyone who isn’t right beside you. If you notice anything, either simple physical evidence
or something you sense in the Force, report it immediately. Are we clear?”

  The last was blatantly addressed to Vestara. Her nostrils flared with annoyance and for an instant she was bright in the Force with it, but it faded quickly as she nodded along with Ben and Jaina.

  The door slid open, the ramp extended, and three Jedi and one Sith stepped out onto the sands of Korriban.

  GALACTIC SENATE MEDCENTER, CORUSCANT

  FOR A MOMENT HE THOUGHT HE WAS STILL IN THE NIGHTMARE. THE nightmare of fighting for his very life against two Jedi who had gone mad—

  —they weren’t Jedi. Or else he wouldn’t have been able to—

  —to do what?—

  —two humans who had attacked him. Cut off his arm with a lightsaber. A green one. Funny what the mind remembered. He recalled grasping his own severed arm, which still held a blaster, and firing at his attacker.

  Then the antiseptic sterility. The sounds of voices, muffled, the words indistinguishable but the voices recognizable. Natasi’s, rich and warm. Rynog Asokaji, aide-de-camp. Another he knew, but couldn’t place immediately—a monotone. A voice with the accent of home.

  Images, almost constant. Something about the reporter.

  Doctors, medical droids. The humming sounds of equipment, the smell of a medcenter.

  Which, it turned out, was not a nightmare after all.

  “Stang,” Admiral Nek Bwau’tu said in a raspy, faint voice.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living, nephew,” came a familiar drawl. With an effort, Bwua’tu turned his head and smiled faintly.

  Eramuth Bwua’tu, Esquire, sat in a chair beside Nek. His cane, black and simple with the handle carved to resemble a beast out of Bothan folklore, was propped against a table. His favorite jaunty hat was perched beside it. Nestled under the table was a small, old-fashioned black bag. His long coat was neatly folded on another chair, and he wore only vest, trousers, and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He did not even wear gloves. In other words, for him, he was dressed extremely casually.