Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi V: Allies

by Christie Golden

  There was the occasional snort of amusement, and then Ben fell silent. When he heard the sound of Ben sinking back in his chair, Luke opened his eyes.

  “So she’s planning on seducing me,” Ben said, his voice carefully devoid of emotion. “Trying to pull me over to the dark side. I guess I kind of figured that was her plan.”

  “She is Sith, Ben,” Luke said quietly. “Born and raised. It’s in her blood. You couldn’t really expect anything else from her. In a way, it’s almost not her fault. But you needed to know.”

  “So that I can pretend to go along with it?” Ben snapped. “So that we can use her, get information from her, just like she’s trying to do with me?”

  “No,” Luke said, still gently. “So that you don’t get hurt.”

  “I’m not going to go over to the dark side, Dad.”

  Ben was angry, and directing it at Luke. Luke didn’t rise to the bait. “I know that. I know better than to think that you’re in danger of that happening. If Caedus couldn’t get you to join him, with the connection you two had, Vestara doesn’t stand a chance. But you can still get hurt. Pretty badly.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Ben said, rising. “I can take care of myself. She’s just a girl, Dad. So—what did you want to talk to me about?”

  Luke smiled sadly. “That,” he said.

  “Oh.” Ben shifted in his seat uneasily. “Listen, I—I need to get out of here for a bit. That okay?”

  “Sure,” Luke said. His son had been in rougher places than this relatively calm spaceport, and he had aided the authorities today. He would be fine. As the youth rose, Luke added, “I know that Lando is a few days away from having the Rockhound ready, but I’m beginning to think that we need to move sooner rather than later. Start moving the flotilla toward the Maw. Lando can catch up with us.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Ben said, already almost out the door of the cockpit. “The sooner we’re done with these Sith, the better I’ll like it.”

  As he watched Ben leave, Luke knew he was not the first parent to feel his own heart ache at his child’s pain. But most parents didn’t have to worry about their child losing their heart to a Sith, either. Like everything the Sith were involved with, they made even teenage romance just that much more painful and dark.

  Alone in her room, munching on a pak’pah fruit, Vestara sensed that something had happened between Luke and Ben. She couldn’t tell what, exactly. Ben had been upset, but not with her, when he had knocked on the door earlier, bringing a few pieces of the fruit as a peace offering.

  “Dad and I are heading out for a bit,” he said.

  “Oh? I thought he disliked this planet,” she said, realizing almost immediately how disingenuous it sounded.

  “Yeah, me, too, but you know how it goes. Parents.” He gave her a grin that did not reach his eyes. “Don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but I brought you this in case you got hungry.”

  She let her face fall, slightly. “I see. Thank you.”

  Ben looked uncomfortable and gave her a shrug. She smiled at him. “It’s okay, Ben. My father would have done the same.”

  “Funny how different but similar they are.”

  “Agreed.” They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then Ben flashed her another quick smile and closed the door. She heard the slight hum as it again locked into place.

  She was hungry, and was glad of at least something to eat while she focused in on the Skywalkers. She did not know the particulars, but she supposed she did not have to. Luke was uncomfortable with Ben’s attraction to her, Ben was upset at being lectured. Vestara felt certain that if he knew just how guarded Ben was being, he would not worry nearly so much.

  He did like her, and as she had confided to her father, she liked Ben as well. It certainly made her job easy, although it added an element of disquietude that was unexpected. Earlier that day, after they had spoken to Kelkad about the Klatooinian history of slavery, she and Ben had been perilously close to an argument about ideals—something she had tried assiduously to avoid. Ben was good-natured and forgiving, but he was also intelligent. He would not be an easy convert, if indeed he could be persuaded to walk the dark path at all, and if she ever allowed him a moment to think, really think, about just how different they were, she would lose this battle.

  She’d acted fast, letting herself choke on the piece of pak’pah fruit, knowing that she could remove the blockage instantly using the Force. The danger had been real—a non–Force-user would have died. It had to be real, for Ben would have sensed an act. The incident had completely distracted him, and greater distraction came shortly thereafter in the form of a mad Force-user heading for the Fountain. She and Ben had worked remarkably well as a team, and as she recalled the event, Vestara smiled slightly. Even sitting in the unpleasant old cell had been entertaining—and informative. In order to get the jokes, Vestara had to ask what many apparently common things were. Perhaps because she had asked out of a genuine desire to know so she could appreciate the humor, Ben had been readily forthcoming with explanations. And so Vestara had learned much.

  And now Luke was reining his son in, urging caution. She felt Ben departing the ship, and unease flickered in her chest.

  She attempted to distract herself by playing a holographic game, but the sensation continued. An hour or so later, she felt Ben return. Almost at once, there was a knock on her door.

  “Yes, Ben?” She made no attempt to hide that she knew it was him. He was very well trained in the Force; he knew she could sense him. The door slid open.

  He was still upset, but this time it was cold, not hot. And his anger was not directed at Luke, but at her. She had been lying on the bed, but now she sat up, peering at him.

  “Dad is sending a message out now to the flotilla,” he said in clipped tones. “We’re going to be leaving soon.”

  “Oh? Has your friend Lando arrived?”

  “Not yet. Dad wants to go anyway. He says that Lando can meet us there whenever he can make it.”

  “I thought the whole point of getting the Rockhound was to help navigate the Maw,” Vestara said, frowning a little.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know, Dad’s getting antsy. And so am I. I’m ready to be done with this. Thought I’d let you know.” The door closed.

  Vestara’s stomach clenched. Something had gone very wrong. Whatever Luke had convinced Ben of, it had taken deep root. She was going to have to work very hard to even recover the ground she had lost. She tried to convince herself that the tension and unhappiness she was feeling was unease at how her father would react, but she knew that was only part of it.

  She had enjoyed being friends with Ben, and now that had gone away. It might come—no, she was Sith, she was cunning and strong willed, it would come back—but the coldness with which he regarded her troubled her more than she would ever have expected.

  “Why weren’t you just born Sith, Ben,” she said softly, and laid her flushed face against the cool softness of the pillow.

  IT WAS THE RIGHT DECISION. LUKE KNEW IT THE MOMENT HE OPENED his eyes. He had had another one of those elusive, yet sweet and calming dreams in which the loving female presence had again enveloped him.

  It’s time, she had whispered, her breath soft against the back of his neck, her right arm draped over his side, her fingers entwined with his. You need to go to the Maw. Too many fates hinge upon it … yours and Ben’s not the least.

  The concern, the love—Luke kept his eyes tightly closed. He breathed in her scent—familiar, cherished. I know. The girl is too dangerous for him. I need to find out what I can about the Sith, and then sever this alliance.

  Then go. Go to the Maw.

  Luke thought about the time when he had, with the aid of the Mind Walkers from Sinkhole Station, gone to that state they called Beyond Shadows. He had seen his wife there, in the Lake of Apparitions.

  Will I see you again, in the Maw?

  A gentle nuzzle from behind. Oh yes, my love. You’ll see me again.
I am there, and I will be waiting for you. I promise.

  And with that, he was instantly, completely, restfully awake. He half wondered, as he always did, if he turned around and reached out, whether he might find the sheets warm.

  He rose, got dressed, and went to check on Dyon. The younger man was still unconscious, his face calm and untroubled. It was hard to imagine Dyon screaming and attacking others, but he had not been the first to fall to this strange malady, although Luke desperately hoped he would be the last. Luke checked the drip, the restraints, and Dyon’s stats, then headed out to send a message.

  It was early yet, and both Ben and Vestara, with the biological requirements of people their age, were still deep asleep in their respective quarters. Luke breakfasted on something quick and easy, and a scant twenty minutes after he sent the message, he received a reply.

  Lando Calrissian looked less immaculate and pulled together than was customary for him. He wore practical and stained work clothing, which told Luke he had probably been working on the Rockhound himself, and a frown, which told Luke that he was not at all happy with Luke’s message.

  “Come on, Skywalker,” Lando said without preamble, “You ask for my help with the Rockhound, and then you hare off without her?”

  “The situation has changed,” Luke said. Briefly, he brought Lando up to speed. He did not mention the inner need that was driving him to leave; Lando wasn’t a Force-user, and sometimes they looked askance at such things.

  “I see your point,” Lando said. “I’d not be too happy with a crazy Jedi on my vessel for longer than I had to have him around either.”

  “He’s not a Jedi, just a Force-user.”

  “Just as bad,” Lando said, flashing white teeth in a quick grin. “And I can imagine that sitting around with a bunch of bored Sith doesn’t make for restful sleep either.”

  Luke thought about the dream, and simply smiled.

  “We won’t get into dangerous territory without waiting for you,” Luke promised, “but I’d like to get everyone doing something, at least.”

  Lando sighed. “I can step up repairs, but it’s still going to be another couple of days at the very least. Think you can distract your Sith buddies with shinies long enough so they don’t decide that a Skywalker skin might make a nice belt?”

  “I think I can manage that,” said Luke. “Thanks.”

  “You got it, Luke. Watch your back.”

  Luke expected the second conversation to be better received. He was right.

  “I completely concur,” Taalon said, nodding his purple head, his fingers steepled in front of him. “This vessel does sound useful, as I said earlier, but I chafe at the delay. I am anxious to be about our joint task of protecting our younglings and finding out exactly who and what Abeloth is.”

  Luke smiled. He kept careful control of his presence in the Force, letting go of all negative emotions connected to the fact that he had conclusive proof that Taalon’s words were lies. Any irritation Taalon sensed would be ascribed to Luke’s open dislike and mistrust of Sith in general, which he had never made any attempt to mitigate.

  “Then we are in agreement. I’ve already contacted Lando; he will follow as soon as he can. Let’s use the next day to double-check everything, and make sure every vessel has proper supplies. Then we depart in twenty-four standard hours.”

  Taalon held up a long index finger in a chiding motion. “One moment,” he said. “It might be wise to leave a small group behind—say, three or four frigates—to wait for your friend. In case any problems arise.”

  Luke did not like the idea of leaving Sith vessels, even one or two, behind on Klatooine. He liked his enemies in front of him, where he could see them. But communication would be impossible in the Maw. What if there was a problem? What if Cilghal learned anything important? Luke was not about to have her contact the Sith, but she could leave an encrypted message for him with Klatooine security and the Sith ship could deliver it if necessary.

  “I hate to admit that a Sith has a good point, but you do,” he said at last.

  Taalon’s very fake smile widened. “Sith always have good points, Master Skywalker. We consider all the options.”

  “One vessel.”

  “Four.”

  “Only one is needed to carry messages of delays or difficulties.”

  “One vessel might have technical problems.”

  “Two then. I want the rest with us in case we run into any problems.”

  Taalon sighed. “Very well. Two. I shall select which ones and give them their orders. We will be prepared to depart in twenty-four … no, twenty-three hours and forty-seven minutes.” He gave Luke a smirk.

  For the briefest of moments, Luke envied Han’s lack of calm, measured response in a situation like this. Captain Solo would cheerfully have punched Taalon in his perfect, purple nose, and Luke had to admit, he wouldn’t have tried very hard to stop his old friend.

  Taalon leaned back in his chair, a smile spreading across his face. He went over the logistics in his mind, then sent out three communiqués.

  He received a response immediately to the first one. His second in command, Leeha Faal, appeared in front of him within seconds of receiving his request to do so.

  She saluted and stood at attention. “Yes, sir?”

  “You have served me well,” he said, “and now, I need you to serve in another capacity. Congratulations, Faal—I’m giving you your first command.”

  Her eyes widened and he tasted her pleasure in the Force. “Thank you, sir. May I ask which vessel?”

  “The Winged Dagger,” he said. “I’ve informed Captain Syndor of his new position as your second in command.”

  A slow, sly smile spread across her pretty lavender face. “I see,” she said. “I will collect my belongings and immediately transfer to the Winged Dagger to take command. What is your first assignment?”

  “One which you yourself brought to my attention,” Taalon said, and told her.

  Ben and Luke went through the prelaunch systems check. Luke seemed completely at ease, even upbeat at the thought of finally heading out toward the Maw. Ben, however, was still upset by what he had learned.

  He’d pretended that he’d expected such betrayal and manipulation from her, and in a way, he had. But that didn’t lessen the sting when it had actually happened. Worse, he couldn’t even confront Vestara about it. Luke had advised against tipping their hand. “If she doesn’t know we can translate her conversations,” Luke had said, “then she won’t try to hide them. Nor will she inform any of the other Sith that we have a way to understand them. This means that we have a chance to learn more—and Ben, we have to learn as much about them as we can in the time we spend with them. You know that.”

  Ben did know that. It didn’t make anything any easier. He sensed her standing at the entrance to the cockpit. “Vestara, you shouldn’t be in here.”

  “Why not?” she said. “I’ve already piloted a ship almost exactly like this. I won’t learn anything new and highly secret.”

  Luke glanced over his shoulder at her, then returned his attention to the checklist.

  “Okay, true enough. What do you want?”

  “I wanted to ask you to tell me about your sick bay.”

  Ben turned to glare at her. “Why?”

  She folded her arms across her chest and gave him an arch look that somehow reminded him of Jaina. “Two reasons. If anything happened to the two of you, I’d be the only chance you have of getting patched up.”

  “Like you wouldn’t light a bonfire and dance a jig if we got injured.”

  A bright, sharp flicker in the Force—the remark had hurt her. She covered it quickly. “You might still be of use to us. Or maybe we’d just want to keep you alive so we could torture you.” Yeah, she was angry all right. Despite himself, Ben felt bad.

  “I’m saying this a lot to Sith today, but you do have a point, Vestara,” Luke said. “But surely you already know the basics of a sick bay. You yourself said it
—you’re familiar with SoroSuubs.”

  “Master Skywalker, you shouldn’t play ignorant. It’s not becoming. You know as well as I do that the Jade Shadow is no ordinary vessel. I’m sure there are quite a few things in that sick bay that aren’t standard equipment for this class of ship. Also, in case you’ve forgotten, you have a crazy man held prisoner in there. I need to know how to best subdue him in case something happens. Which, by the way, would necessitate that you stop locking me in my room when you leave the vessel.”

  Ben really wished his dad had opted to take someone else hostage back at Sinkhole Station.

  “Dad?”

  Luke sighed and rose. “Back in a moment. This won’t take long.”

  Ben rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, then stretched. He wished Vestara wasn’t so … well … He wished she was uglier, or stupid, or unpleasant. But she wasn’t any of those things. He knew she was a Sith, knew that she was trying to manipulate him—but blast it, he also knew that on some level, she cared. She was trying to drag him over to the dark side, but what if he could bring her to the light side? There was good in her. He’d felt it in the Force. She wasn’t like Jacen, not yet—she was much more like Tahiri. True, she’d been born Sith and raised with a whole planet full of them. But maybe she was Sith because that’s all she knew. Maybe if she was shown another path, she’d take it.

  After all, even in her conversation with Gavar Khai, she’d admitted that she liked him. A question formed in his mind. His father returned a few minutes later. Vestara was not with him.

  “Dad?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think Gavar Khai would kill his own daughter if she disappointed him?”

  Luke considered the question. “I think he cares for her very much. But he is very demanding. Yes, I do think that if she disappointed him and he found out about it, he’d kill her.”

  Ben had his answer. And it was not the answer to the question he’d just asked his dad.

  It was good to be Sith, to be in command of your own vessel, and to be charged with so pleasant a task, mused Leeha Faal. She leaned back in the command chair, enjoying the sensation. Her chair, her ship. She had been wise to ally with Sarasu Taalon a few years ago. She had observed how his star was rising among the Circle, and had contrived to be assigned to the Black Wave. “Contrived” and “assigned,” of course, meant that she had arranged for the assassination of her current competition and two other possible threats. Their bodies had never been found. It would seem that although they had been beaten back from the main cities of Kesh, the huge, aggressive rukaros were still eager to feed and continue their species.