Date: 2009-03-24 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fiction; Space Opera; Action & Adventure; Science Fiction
Description: After a violent civil war and the devastation wrought by the now-fallen Darth Caedus, the Galactic Alliance is in crisis–and in need. From all corners, politicians, power brokers, and military leaders converge on Coruscant for a crucial summit to restore order, negotiate differences, and determine the future of their unified worlds. But even more critical, and far more uncertain, is the future of the Jedi. In a shocking move, Chief of State Natasi Daala orders the arrest of Luke Skywalker for failing to prevent Jacen Solo’s turn to the dark side and his subsequent reign of terror as a Sith Lor
Publisher: Lucasbooks

STAR WARS

OUTCAST

Fate of the Jedi – book 1

AARON ALLSTON

Dramatis Personae

Ben Skywalker; Jedi Knight (human male)

Corran Horn; Jedi Master (human male)

Han Solo; Captain, Millennium Falcon (human male) Jagged Fel; Head of State, Imperial Remnant (human male) Jaina Solo; Jedi Knight (human female)

Kenth Hamner; Jedi Master (human male)

Leia Organa Solo; Jedi Knight (human female)

Luke Skywalker; Jedi Grand Master (human male)

Mirax Horn; businesswoman (human female)

Natasi Daala; Chief of State, Galactic Alliance (human female) Valin Horn; Jedi Knight (human male)

The darkness was eternal, all-powerful, unchangeable.

She stared into it, unblinking and unafraid. She was determined that it would not claim her. She had resisted it these many years. She would resist it for ever, never despairing.

It was unchangeable, but change would take place. The Force said so.

Chapter One

GALACTIC ALLIANCE DIPLOMATIC SHUTTLE, HIGH CORUSCANT

ORBIT

ONE BY ONE, THE STARS OVERHEAD BEGAN TO DISAPPEAR, SWALLOWED by some enormous darkness interposing itself from above and behind the shuttl e. Sharply pointed at its most forward position, broadening behind, t he flood of blackness advanced, blotting out more and more of the unb linking starfield, until darkness was all there was to see.

Then, all across the length and breadth of the ominous shape, lights came o n—blue and white running lights, tiny red hatch and se-curity lights, sudde n glows from within transparisteel viewports, one large rectangular whitene ss limned by atmosphere shields. The lights showed the vast triangle to be the underside of an Imperial Star De-stroyer, painted black, forbidding a m oment ago, now comparatively cheerful in its proper running configuration.

It was the Gilad Pellaeon, newly arrived from the Imperial Remnant, and its officers clearly knew how to put on a show.

Jaina Solo, sitting with the others in the dimly lit passenger com-partment of the government VIP shuttle, watched the entire display through the over head transparisteel canopy and laughed out loud.

The Bothan in the sumptuously padded chair next to hers gave her a curious look. His mottled red and tan fur twitched, either from sup-pressed irritat ion or embarrassment at Jaina's outburst. "What do you find so amusing?"

"Oh, both the obviousness of it and the skill with which it was per-formed.

It's so very, You used to think of us as dark and scary, but now we're just your stylish allies." Jaina lowered her voice so that her next comment would not carry to the passengers in the scats behind. "The press will love it. T
hat image will play on the holonews broadcasts con-stantly. Mark my words."

"Was that little show a Jagged Fel detail?"

Jaina tilted her head, considering. "I don't know. He could have come up with it, but he usually doesn't spend his time planning dis-plays or events.

When he does, though, they're usually pretty . . . ef-fective."

The shuttle rose toward the Gilad Pellaeon's main landing bay. In moments, it was through the square atmosphere barrier shield and drifting sideways t o land on the deck nearby. The landing place was clearly marked—hundreds of beings, most wearing gray Imperial uni-forms or the distinctive white armo r of the Imperial stormtrooper, waited in the bay, and the one circular spo t where none stood was just the right size for the Galactic Alliance shuttl e.

The passengers rose as the shuttle settled into place. The Bothan smoothed h is tunic, a cheerful blue decorated with a golden sliver pat-tern suggesting claws. "Time to go to work. You won't let me get killed, will you?

"

Jaina let her eyes widen. "Is that what I was supposed to be doing here?"

sh e asked in droll tones. "I should have brought my light-saber."

The Bothan offered a long-suffering sigh and turned toward the exit.

They descended the shuttle's boarding ramp. With no duties re-quired of her other than to keep alert and be the Jedi face at this pre-liminary meeting

, Jaina was able to stand back and observe. She was struck with the unreali ty of it all. The niece and daughter of three of the most famous enemies of the Empire during the First Galactic Civil War of a few decades earlier, s he was now witness to events that might bring the Galactic Empire—or Imperi al Remnant, as it was called everywhere outside its own Empire—or Imperi al Remnant, as it was called everywhere outside its own borders—into the Ga lactic Alliance on a lasting basis.

And at the center of the plan was the man, flanked by Imperial of-ficers, who now approached the Bothan. Slightly under average size, though towerin g well above Jaina's diminutive height, he was dark-haired, with a trim be ard and mustache that gave him a rakish look, and was handsome in a way th at became more pronounced when he glowered. A scar on his forehead ran up into his hairline and seemed to continue as a lock of white hair from that point. He wore expensive but subdued black civilian garments, neck-to-toe

, that would be in-conspicuous anywhere on Coruscant but stood out in shar p relief to the gray and white uniforms, white armor, and colorful Allianc e clothes surrounding him.

He had one moment to glance at Jaina. The look probably ap-peared neutral t o onlookers, but for her it carried just a twinkle of humor, a touch of exa speration that the two of them had to put up with all these delays.

Then an Alliance functionary, notable for his blandness, made introductions: "Impe rial Head of State the most honorable Jagged Eel, may I present Senator Tiu rrg Drey'lye of Both-awui, head of the Senate Unification Preparations Comm ittee."

Jagged Eel took the Senator's hand. "I'm pleased to be working with you."

"And delighted to meet you. Chief of State Daala sends her compli-ments a nd looks forward to meeting you when you make planetfall."

Jag nodded. "And now, I believe, protocol insists that we open a bottle or a dozen of wine and make some preliminary discussion of se-curity, introduc tion protocols, and so on."

"Fortunately about the wine, and regrettably about everything else, you are c orrect."

* * *

At the end of two full standard hours—Jaina knew from regular, sur-reptitio us consultations of her chrono—Jag was able to convince the Senator and his retinue to accept a tour of the Gilad Pellaeon. He was also able to reques t a private consultation with the sole representative of the Jedi Order pre sent. Moments later, the gray-walled conference room was empty of everyone but Jag and Jaina.

Jag glanced toward the door. "Security seal, access limited to Jagged Fel and Jedi Jaina Solo, voice identification, activate." The door hissed in response as it sealed. Then Jag returned his attention to Jaina.

She let an expression of anger and accusation cross her face. "You're not fo oling anyone, Fel. You're planning for an Imperial inva-sion of Alliance spa ce."

Jag nodded. "I've been planning it for quite a while. Come here."

She moved to him, settled into his lap, and was suddenly but not unexpected ly caught in his embrace. They kissed urgently, hungrily.

Finally Jaina drew back and smiled at him. "This isn't going to be a routine part of your consultations with every Jedi."

"Uh, no. That would cause some trouble here and at home. But I actually do ha ve business with the Jedi that docs not involve the Galac-tic Alliance, at le ast not initially."

"What sort of business?"

"Whether or not the Galactic Empire joins with the Galactic Al-liance, I thi nk there ought to be an official Jedi presence in the Em-pire. A second Temp le, a branch, an offshoot, whatever. Providing advice and insight to the Hea d of State."

"And protection?"

He shrugged. "Less of an issue. I'm doing all right. Two years in this positio n and not dead yet."

"Emperor Palpatine went nearly twenty-five years."

"I guess that makes him my hero."

Jaina snorted. "Don't even say that in jest . . . Jag, if the Remnant doesn't join the Alliance, I'm not sure the Jedi can have a presence without Alliance approval."

"The Order still keeps its training facility for youngsters in Hapan space. A nd the Hapans haven't rejoined."

"You sound annoyed. The Hapans still giving you trouble?"

"Let's not talk about that."

"Besides, moving the school back to Alliance space is just a matter of time, logistics, and finances; there's no question that it will happen. On the othe r hand, it's very likely that the government would with-hold approval for a J
edi branch in the Remnant, just out of spite, if the Remnant doesn't join."

"Well, there's such a thing as an unofficial presence. And there's such a thi ng as rival schools, schismatic branches, and places for former Jedi to go wh en they can't be at the Temple."

Jaina smiled again, but now there was suspicion in her expression. "You just want to have this so I'll be assigned to come to the Remnant and set it up.

"

"That's a motive, but not the only one. Remember, to the Moffs and to a lot of the Imperial population, the Jedi have been bogeymen since Palpatine died

. At the very least, I don't want them to be inap-propriately afraid of the woman I'm in love with."

Jaina was silent for a moment. "Have we talked enough politics?"

"I think so."

"Good."

* * *

HORN FAMILY QUARTERS.

KALLAD'S DREAM VACATION HOSTEL. CORUSCANT

Yawning, hair tousled, clad in a blue dressing robe, Valin Horn knew that h e did not look anything like an experienced Jedi Knight. He looked like an unshaven, unkempt bachelor, which he also was. But here, in these rented qu arters, there would be only family to see him— at least until he had breakf ast, shaved, and dressed.

The Horns did not live here, of course. His mother, Mirax, was the anchor f or the immediate family. Manager of a variety of interlinked businesses

—tra ding, interplanetary finances, gambling and recreation, and, if rumors were true, still a little smuggling here and there—she maintained her home and business address on Corellia. Corran, her husband and Valin's father, was a Jedi Master, much of his life spent on missions away from the family, but his true home was where his heart resided, wherever Mirax lived. Valin and his sister, Jysella, also Jedi, lived wherever their missions sent them, an d also counted Mirax as the center of the family.

Now Mirax had rented temporary quarters on Coruscant so the family could co llect on one of its rare occasions, this time for the Uni-fication Summit, where she and Corran would separately give depo-sitions on the relationship s among the Confederation states, the Imperial Remnant, and the Galactic Al liance as they related to trade and Jedi activities. Mirax had insisted tha t Valin and Jysella leave their Temple quarters and stay with their parents while these events were taking place, and few forces in the galaxy could s tand before her decision—Luke Skywalker certainly knew better than to try.

Moving from the refresher toward the kitchen and dining nook, Valin brushe d a lock of brown hair out of his eyes and grinned. Much as he might put u p a public show of protest—the independent young man who did not need pare nts to direct his actions or tell him where to sleep—he hardly minded. It was good to see family. And both Cor-ran and Mirax were better cooks than the ones at the Jedi Temple.

There was no sound of conversation from the kitchen, but there was some clat tering of pans, so at least one of his parents must still be on hand. As he stepped from the hallway into the dining nook, Valin saw that it was his mot her, her back to him as she worked at the stove. He pulled a chair from the table and sat. "Good morning."

"A joke, so early?" Mirax did not turn to face him, but her tone was cheer ful. "No morning is good. I come light-years from Corellia to be with my f amily, and what happens? I have to keep Jedi hours to see them. Don't you know that I'm an executive? And a lazy one?"

"I forgot." Valin took a deep breath, sampling the smells of break-fast. H
is mother was making hotcakes Corellian-style, nerf sausage links on the s ide, and caf was brewing. For a moment, Valin was trans-ported back to his childhood, to the family breakfasts that had been somewhat more common be fore the Yuuzhan Vong came, before Valin and Jysella had started down the Jedi path. "Where are Dad and Sella?"

"Your father is out getting some back-door information from other Jedi Mast ers for his deposition." Mirax pulled a plate from a cabinet and began slid ing hotcakes and links onto it. "Your sister left early and wouldn't say wh at she was doing, which I assume either means it's Jedi business I can't kn ow about or that she's seeing some man she doesn't want me to know about."

"Or both."

"Or both." Mirax turned and moved over to put the plate down before him.

She set utensils beside it.

The plate was heaped high with food, and Valin recoiled from it in mock ho rror. "Stang, Mom, you're feeding your son, not a squadron of Gamorreans."

Then he caught sight of his mother's face and he was suddenly no longer i n a joking mood.

This wasn't his mother.

Oh, the woman had Mirax's features. She had the round face that admirers had called "cute" far more often than "beautiful," much to Mirax's chagrin.

She had Mirax's generous, curving lips that smiled so readily and expressively, and Mirax's bright, lively brown eyes. She had Mirax's hair, a glossy black with flecks of gray, worn shoulder-length to fit readily under a pilot's he lmet, even though she piloted far less often these days. She was Mirax to ev ery freckle and dimple.

But she was not Mirax.

The woman, whoever she was, caught sight of Valin's confusion. "Somethi ng wrong?"

"Uh, no." Stunned, Valin looked down at his plate.

He had to think—logically, correctly, and fast. He might be in grave danger right now, though the Force currently gave him no indi-cation of imminent at tack. The true Mirax, wherever she was, might be in serious trouble or worse

. Valin tried in vain to slow his heart rate and speed up his thinking proce sses.

Fact: Mirax had been here but had been replaced by an imposter.

Presumably the real Mirax was gone; Valin could not sense anyone but himself and the i mposter in the immediate vicinity. The imposter had remained behind for som e reason that had to relate to Valin, Jysella, or Corran. It couldn't have been to capture Valin, as she could have done that with drugs or other meth ods while he slept, so the food was prob-ably not drugged.

Under Not-Mirax's concerned gaze, he took a tentative bite of sausage and tu rned a reassuring smile he didn't feel toward her.

Fact: Creating an imposter this perfect must have taken a fortune in money, an incredible amount of research, and a volunteer willing to let her feature s be permanently carved into the likeness of another's. Or perhaps this was a clone, raised and trained for the purpose of simulating Mirax. Or maybe sh e was a droid, one of the very expensive, very rare human replica droids. Or maybe a shape-shifter. Whichever, the simulation was nearly perfect. Valin hadn't recognized the deception until . . .

Until what} What had tipped him off? He took another bite, not registering th e sausage's taste or temperature, and maintained the face-hurting smile as he tried to recall the detail that had alerted him that this wasn't his mother.

He couldn't figure it out. It was just an instant realization, too fleeting to remember, too overwhelming to reject.

Would Corran be able to see through the deception? Would Jysella?

Surely, they had to be able to. But what if they couldn't? Valin would accuse this woman and be thought insane.

Were Corran and Jysella even still at liberty? Still alive) At this mo-ment, the Not-Mirax's colleagues could be spiriting the two of them away with the t rue Mirax. Or Corran and Jysella could be lying, bleed-ing, at the bottom of an access shaft, their lives draining away.

Valin couldn't think straight. The situation was too overwhelming, the mys tery too deep, and the only person here who knew the answers was the one w ho wore the face of his mother.

He stood, sending his chair clattering backward, and fixed the false Mirax with a hard look. "Just a moment." He dashed to his room.

His lightsaber was still where he'd left it, on the nightstand beside his bed

. He snatched it up and gave it a near-instantaneous examina-tion. Battery po wer was still optimal; there was no sign that it had been tampered with.

He returned to the dining room with the weapon in his hand. Not-Mirax, clear ly confused and beginning to look a little alarmed, stood by the stove, star ing at him.

Valin ignited the lightsaber, its snap-hiss of activation startlingly loud, and held the point of the gleaming energy blade against the food on his pl ate.

Hotcakcs shriveled and blackened from contact with the weapon's plasma

. Valin gave Not-Mirax an approving nod. "Flesh does the same thing under t he same conditions, you know."

"Valin, what's wrong?"

"You may address me as Jedi Horn. You don't have the right to use my perso nal name." Valin swung the lightsaber around in a practice form, allowing the blade to come within a few centimeters of the glow rod fixture overhea d, the wall, the dining table, and the woman with his mother's face. "You probably know from your research that the Jedi don't worry much about ampu tations."

Not-Mirax shrank back away from him, both hands on the stove edge behin d her. "What?"

"We know that a severed limb can readily be replaced by a pros-thetic that l ooks identical to the real thing. Prosthetics offer sensation and do everyth ing flesh can. They're ideal substitutes in every way, ex-cept for requiring maintenance. So we don't feel too badly when we have to cut the arm or leg off a very bad person. But I assure you, that very bad person remembers the pain forever."

"Valin, I'm going to call your father now." Mirax sidled toward the blue bant ha-hide carrybag she had left on a side table.

Valin positioned the tip of his lightsaber directly beneath her chin. At the d istance of half a centimeter, its containing force field kept her from feeling any heat from the blade, but a slight twitch on Valin's part could maim or ki ll her instantly. She froze.

"No, you're not. You know what you're going to do instead?"

Mirax's voice wavered. "What?"

"You're going to tell me what you've done with my mother!" The last several words emerged as a bellow, driven by fear and anger. Valin knew that he lo oked as angry as he sounded; he could feel blood red-dening his face, could even see redness begin to suffuse everything in his vision.

"Boy, put the blade down." Those were not the woman's words. They came fr om behind. Valin spun, bringing his blade up into a de-fensive position.

In the doorway stood a man, middle-aged, clean-shaven, his hair graying fro m brown. He was of below-average height, his eyes a star-tling green.

He wo re the brown robes of a Jedi. His hands were on his belt, his own lightsabe r still dangling from it.

He was Valin's father, Jedi Master Corran Horn. But he wasn't, any more than the woman behind Valin was Mirax Horn.

Valin felt a wave of despair wash over him. Both parents replaced. Odds we re growing that the real Corran and Mirax were already dead.

Yet Valin's voice was soft when he spoke. "They may have made you a virtual double for my father. But they can't have given you his expertise with the lightsaber."

"You don't want to do what you're thinking about, son."

"When I cut you in half, that's all the proof anyone will ever need that you'

re not the real Corran Horn." Valin lunged.

Chapter Two

VALIN SWUNG HIS BLADE IN A LIGHTNING-QUICK CIRCLE, LOW
backward t o high forward, a move that would cut the imposter in two vertic ally.

The Not-Corran's lightsaber blade was suddenly alive and raised horizontally, blocking his blow. Like the real Corran's, it shone silver.

Perhaps the man had seized the real Corran's weapon; it certainly looked identical. Valin fel t his heart sink further.

He threw a series of short slashes at Not-Corran's head, left shoul-der, and left side, but his opponent blocked each one with minimal arm motion, with little effort. Then the imposter's brown boot was slamming into Valin's ches t, hurtling him backward and to his right. Valin crashed down painfully atop the water-filled sink, his ribs bruis-ing against the faucet, his right but tock shattering soaking dishes. Dis-oriented, he spun his blade in a defensi ve circle. But Not-Corran did not immediately follow up; instead, he was sho uting, "Mirax, out now,'" and the woman impersonating his mother was leaving the room at a dead run, tears and a bewildered, pained expression on her fa ce.

Valin heaved himself off the sink, his rear end wet, and landed on his feet.

He pointed his blade at Not-Corran, an informal salute of grudging respect.

"You've studied. Where?"

"Put the blade away, boy. I don't know what you're seeing or feel-ing, but we can get people in here whom you trust. We can even get Luke Skywalker here."

"Sure, I'll happily give you time to call your reinforcements. Tacti-cally, tha t's a good solution for me."

"You make the calls, then."

Valin paused as if hesitating but took that moment to assess his options.

Not-Corran was at least as good a swordsman as Valin, and Not-Mirax was c learly off calling in more help. Soon enough, Valin would be overmatched.

To Valin's right were the sink and stove, cabinets above, wall be-hind. To the left was a wall between him and the living room; against it stood a sid eboard and the small table where Mirax's carrybag rested. Ahead was the onl y path out of this chamber, and Not-Corran was in the way.

Well, that was all right. In rental quarters like these, lightly con-structed f or ease of remodeling and for the sake of cheapness, Valin didn't need a door.

He darted to the left and boosted his speed with a touch of the Force. He ai med for the open spot between table and sideboard, and the wall there was su ddenly wreckage filling the air with white powder, falling away from him in pieces, barely registering as an impact against Valin's body; it gave way as readily as a flimsi barrier would to a nor-mal man.

Now he was in the main living chamber. Ahead was a sofa; in the wall behin d it was a large picture viewport with a real waterfall cascad-ing by a fe w meters beyond. To the right was the door out and another window beside i t—

Also to the right was a blur, Not-Corran in Force-speeded motion, parallel ing him, now between him and the door.

Valin didn't alter his trajectory. He dived forward into the view-port, counti ng on the minimal-expense construction of this property to mean that the trans paristeel there was thin, or that the mountings holding it into the wall were not the stoutest . . .

He was right on both counts. Again he barely felt the impact as he punched through the viewport. The thin transparisteel folded around him. Together t hey hurtled into sunlight, through the waterfall down-pour, and into open a ir beyond.

Valin exerted himself, throwing the oversized sheet of transparent foil awa y, and dropped into what looked like a bottomless city canyon bordered on t y, and dropped into what looked like a bottomless city canyon bordered on t wo sides by soaring, gaudily decorated banks of skytowers.

This was a vacationers' district, the vast lengths of skyrises occupied most ly by hostels, restaurants, spas, and other businesses catering to travelers and celebrants from all over Coruscant and the Alliance. The gap separating this bank of skytowers from the one facing it was about thirty meters wide, farther than his leap would carry him, but there were multiple streams of s peeder traffic above and below. As he dropped, he took note of a blue-and-ye llow-striped speeder approach-ing below; he twisted, angling toward it, and he came down on the hood of the vehicle, landing in a deep crouch.

The front end of the speeder dipped precipitously under the force of his im pact. The pilot was an Ortolan, rotund and blue-skinned, his broad ears and snout suddenly being snapped back by the wind; Valin saw the pilot's eyes open wide. The repulsorlift of the speeder shrieked under the sudden demand imposed by Valin's landing. It tried to bring the speeder's nose back up.

It succeeded, and as it did, Valin sprang up and forward, leaping as far as the opposite traffic lane. There he came down atop a long bus, which did not budge under his landing. Valin flipped forward again, somersaulting, and th is time landed on the deck of an open-air tourist conveyance that was beginn ing to fill up with vacationers boarding via a short ramp from the adjacent hostel patio. The vacationers started with surprise at the sudden appearance of a drenched, insufficiently clothed Jedi with a live lightsaber in his hand.

Valin couldn't keep anger and a little panic out of his voice. "I need a comli nk, quick." He held out his hand.

The few seconds that followed crawled like an eternity but gave Valin time to think, to wonder. The vacationers and tourists boarding this vehicle w ere, to all outward appearance, ordinary beings of the middle class. Most of them were dressed in garments far more color-ful, revealing, or both th an they would ever wear at home. They seemed normal, but how many of them, too, might be imposters? He had no sense whatsoever of the scale of this deception.

One of them, a beautiful red-skinned Twi'lek woman, finished struggling to unclip something from her white halter top. She ex-tended the object toward Valin, her hand open. It was a comlink. He reached for it.

Not-Corran thumped shoulders-first into the deck and rolled to his feet four meters from Valin. His own lightsaber was in his hand but unlit. His voice, r aised so all on the vehicle could hear, sounded sad, pained. "Everybody stand back. This man is . . . not well. I'll handle this."

Valin gestured at Not-Corran. "You're not well. You're conspiring against th e Jedi Order, and you should know that's a dangerous, usu-ally fatal mistake

."

He called on inner resources, on memories of scores of battles en-dured and won. He let those memories fill him and push out the panic and anguish he'

d been feeling. New calmness quieting and deepening his voice, he said,

"Al l right. Your decision. Your fate. I'm just going to cut my way through you and then go find out who's behind this." Again he sprang at the man who wa s not his father.

This time no concern for self-preservation affected his tactics. He went com pletely on the offensive, his sole goal to cut down Not-Corran. He threw blo w after blow with stuttered-laser speed, backing Not-Corran up against the v ehicle rail, then down the ramp to the hostel's patio restaurant beyond. Res taurant patrons scattered, leaving tables loaded with half-finished meals, d rinks, and bags.

Not-Corran did not take advantage of a couple of openings Valin's tactics o ffered him. Valin felt a surge of optimism. Not-Corran's ad-herence to the true Corran's loyalties clearly meant he would not cut Valin down. Valin di d not feel the same consideration toward his enemy.

And though Valin was tiring, Not-Corran had it worse: the older man was be ginning to sweat.

Not-Corran backflipped to the far side of a round white table made of light d urasteel. As he landed, he kicked the table toward Valin. Valin ignored the d ishes and food hurtling toward him; he slashed at the table itself, cleaving it in two. Had he possessed the full range of Jedi powers, he could have swep t it aside with an exertion of telekinesis, but like his father he was defici ent in that ability.

Not-Corran now stood five meters away, breathing heavily, his blade at a single-handed, downward defensive angle.

Valin gave him a look of grudging admiration. "You know, to ex-hibit all the Jedi skills but refrain from using telekinesis so that you can maintain the impersonation shows a lot of dedication. Too bad it won't get you anything.

Too bad you have to die."

"Boy, this has got to end." Not-Corran threw up his free hand as if finally to make a telekinetic attack. Valin hesitated, not sure which way to jump. T
hen he realized something bad.

Not-Corran hadn't used any Force power, but had, through his gesture, frozen Valin in place just for an instant. Valin felt a sensation of imminent dang er.

Then it hit him, a blow from behind, a shock felt by every part of his body.

His knees gave way. He fell forward, his vision graying.

But before he lost consciousness completely, he saw, beyond the railing of t he patio, a hovering airspeeder—his mother's speeder, with Not-Mirax standin g in the driver's seat, her military-grade blaster pis-tol in her hands aime d at him. Tears streamed from her eyes as if to mimic the artificial waterfa ll that framed her from thirty meters be-yond.

* * *

SENATE BUILDING, CORUSCANT

Luke Skywalker found it amazing that there was a chamber this large in the Senate Building he had never seen. It was six stories in height, and broad and deep enough to hold two thousand spectators. The permanent bench seatin g was filled almost to capacity, late arrivals moving along the aisles and peering anxiously to find open spots. At the head of the chamber stood an e normous dais with two cloth-draped tables, swivel seats set up behind them, and a lectern between them. On the carpeted floor before the dais were rou nd tables with chairs placed to face the front of the room. It was much lik e an over-sized courtroom set up for a panel of judges, but more informal i n its arrangement, and far less somber in its decorative style: the carpets and padding on the bench seats and backs were of soothing blues and pur-pl es; the walls were off-white with Galactic Alliance symbols painted large u pon them; and the furniture up front was an unthreatening tan-gold.

And Luke had never seen the place before. Had it always been here? Were there many more such chambers in this gargantuan building?

The dais tables were fully occupied, and the male Bothan sitting in the mos t central chair, his red and tan fur rippling with the conse-quence of the moment, nodded to an aide who had just whispered to him. The Bothan stood a nd took the lectern beside his seat. "Only forty-five minutes late,"

he sai d, his amplified voice booming across the chamber. "Not bad for a Galactic Alliance event, yes?"

His remark drew a faint laugh from the crowd. Encouraged, he continued,

"I a m Senator Tiurrg Drey'lye, chair of the Unification Preparations Committee, and the organizer of this event. Over the next several days, in both private and public sessions, we will be exam-ining the relationship between the Gal actic Alliance, the states of the Confederation, the Galactic Empire, and in dividual planet-states with the aim of restoring our great planetary union t o levels of strength and security equaling, even surpassing, those it enjoye d before the recent war."

Ben, Luke's sixteen-year-old son, sat to Luke's left. Redheaded, athletic, he was dressed in the black tunic and pants that were his trademark wheneve r Jedi dress was not absolutely called for. Now he frowned, curious. "What about the Hapans? They were invited."

Luke gestured for Ben to lower his voice, though the remark had not been lo ud enough to carry beyond the Jedi table. "They were in-vited, but they wer e invited incorrectly, so they didn't come."

"Huh?"

The Bothan's renewed speech checked Luke's reply for a moment. "This morn ing, we'll be hearing opening remarks from some of the session organizers and speakers offering a sense of what we hope to ac-complish

..."

Luke tuned him out and turned toward Ben. "The Hapans were is-sued an invit ation, but its language suggested very faintly that their presence was less critical than that of the Remnant and the Confeder-ation. They couldn't ag ree to attend without appearing to accept a lower status than the others.

S
o, knowing that there will be later Uni-fication Summits where they can be the stars, they claimed a prior commitment."

Ben frowned. "Why was the invitation worded that way? Was it an accident

?"

Leia Organa Solo, Luke's sister, sitting to Luke's right, looked toward fath er and son. A slightly graying dark-haired, diminutive woman dressed in brow n Jedi robes, she currently blended in with her company, but as a former Chi ef of State of the New Republic, she could have dressed to be the equal of t he most extravagant politician present and not been ill thought of because o f it.

She offered Ben a knowing smile. "No written imitation sent to an important leader has accidents like that in it. Of course, the Alliance diplomatic cor ps claims that no insult was intended. They claim 'Re-grettable misinterpret ation of figures of speech,' which subtly puts the blame on the Hapans for b eing touchy."

"I still don't understand why the Alliance wouldn't want them here for this,"

Ben pressed.

Luke shrugged. "Actually, I don't have any idea."

Leia nodded toward the dais, gesturing at the table to the right, to the Botha n's left. "They don't want to dilute the Imperial presence or to interfere wit h Imperial cooperation."

Startled, Luke gave the table another look.

Galactic Alliance Chief of State Natasi Daala sat at the end of the table.

A woman of late middle years, she had copper-colored hair and lovely feat ures made less appealing by her rigid, military bearing. She wore a white admiral's uniform with broad swaths of service medals across the tunic. A onetime protegee of the Empire's Grand Moff Wil-huff Tarkin—and uncharitab ly assumed by many to have achieved her military rank because she was also his lover—she had been leader of the Galactic Alliance for two years and had done a fine, measured job of restoring the union's economies and netwo rks of political alliances, which had been shattered by the recent war.

To her right sat Jagged Fel, the young Head of State of the Imper-ial Remn ant. Raised among the Chiss, proven in battle as a combat pilot in the Yuu zhan Vong War, he was a reluctant leader who had shown himself to be adept at keeping the Imperial Moffs in line and in managing difficult Imperial-Hapan relations.

To Jag's right, immediately beside the still-droning Bothan, was Turr Phenni r, Supreme Military Commander of the Confederation. He was the closest that loose alliance of planets had to an overall leader. Pale, aristocratic, that loose alliance of planets had to an overall leader. Pale, aristocratic, with a scar reaching from the middle of his left cheek to the left corner of his mouth, he, like Fel, was a former combat pilot. The reputation he'd earned early in his career for classic Imperial backstabbing politics and combat sa vagery had changed over the years to one of pragmatism and honorable service.

And until now, Luke had given no conscious thought to the fact that these th ree, the most eminent politicians on Coruscant at this mo-ment, were all Imp erials. That realization struck him like a bucket of icy water. He had fough t the Imperials for decades, had played a role in the defeat of every one of their major operations during that time, and here they were, in charge of.

. . everything.

Leia glanced at Luke, amused. "I felt that."

"I didn't put it together before now. I've been thinking of the three of them a s themselves, not as Imperials. The fate of the galaxy is, all of a sudden, in the hands of Imperials."

"Yes."

"When did it strike you?"

"Two years ago, when Daala and Fel took their posts within a short time of each other."

"You didn't mention it to me."

She shrugged. "There was nothing I could do about it. Or should do about it. The symbolism of them all being Imperials in one way or another is no thing compared with the question of who they arc inside. I mean, the Rebe llion was largely made up of former Imperials. Crix Madine. Mon Mothma. J
an Dodonna. I'm a former Imperial Sena-tor."

"True. And all three leaders up at that table are honorable people."

"Yes. But that doesn't mean they want what we want. Or that they can see the consequences of their decisions the way we can." Leia's smile became distin ctly ironic. "I bet Palpatine's ghost is laughing at us right now."

Luke forced himself to relax. He had, over the years, become con-vinced th at in the absence of Palpatine and his immediate successors such as Ysane Isard and Sate Pestage, what it meant to be an Imperial had changed. The M
offs, sector governors, tended to be as scheming and self-serving as they were forty years earlier, but the military, an even more potent force in t he Remnant, was largely populated by men and women who simply preferred a more orderly, more governed so-ciety than that found in the Alliance. The Empire was no longer a sym-bol of tyranny or of planetary genocide.

But the strangeness of the situation did not leave Luke. He took a look around his table to see if the others present were similarly affected.

Kyp Durron faced the dais and wore an expression suggesting that he was some where else, maintaining a false show of interest that was nothing but polite veneer. Jaina, as beautiful as her mother, Leia, but even more dangerous, c oncentrated on those at the dais, especially Jag Fel. Han Solo, lanky, weath ered, and vital, sitting to the right of Leia, wore his traditional vest and trousers, the latter decorated with the Corellian Bloodstripes, his informa l mode of dress in defiance of event protocols; he stared in heavy-lidded di sinterest at the speaker. Kam and Tionne Solusar, no visible sign left of th e savage mutilations they had survived during the recent war, ignored the Bo than's speech and whispered between themselves.

And the Horns—

Luke blinked. Where were Corran and Mirax? They'd be testifying before se parate panels later today and had announced they would be present at thes e opening ceremonies. Luke grinned sourly to himself. Corran Horn was a l oyal ally and would stand beside him in the face of any danger, but he wa s obviously canny enough to avoid the threat of death by boredom.

* * *

Two hours later, those who had been sitting at the Jedi table moved out in a knot from the Senate Building into the sunlight shining on the plaza outs ide. Immediately Luke felt heat from the sun soaking into his dark Grand Ma ster garments.

Han stretched, resulting in a series of popping noises from his arms and sho ulders. "I think I died a couple of times during the speeches." His voice wa s a grumble. "Leia kept poking me and starting my heart again. Some sort of dark side Force technique, I bet."

Leia smirked and gave his ribs a two-fingered jab. "Like that?"

Han shrank away. "Ow. And yes. And I think maybe you should have let me s tay dead. Because I just know there are more speeches to come, and I have to be at some of them."

Leia gave him a look that was both disapproving and amused. "It wasn't that bad. Neither the pokes nor the speeches."

Luke grinned and brought out his comlink. It, like all comlinks taken into th e ceremonial hall, had been switched off as a courtesy to the event. Now he s witched it on. Immediately it beeped multiple times, indicating that he had s everal messages to listen to, several calls to return.

Jaina's was doing the same thing. She grimaced. "Busy day to come."

Luke felt it first, a ripple in the Force, not exactly of menace but of disq uiet. He looked around the plaza, seeing the ostentatiously dressed members of the crowd continuing to stream out from the Sen-ate Building.

Speeder tra ffic confined itself to its proper travel lanes some distance away—

No, that wasn't quite true. Four night-blue personnel transport speeders, tr aveling in a tight chain and at moderate speed just above pedestrian head he ight, were moving toward this building entrance. This was not an unusual sig ht in the government districts of Coruscant; troops were often moved in to o ffer security at an event. But such movements usually took place before the event began, not after it ended.

The other Masters present felt the disquiet and became more alert, but made no outward sign. Then Jaina noticed. She put her hand on her lightsaber.

"Ben." Luke kept his voice low. "Drop back, blend with the crowd. Call Na wara Ven."

Ben glanced around and spotted the transports. His jaw tightened. He looke d as though he wanted to argue, but he simply stopped in place, disappeari ng from among the other Jedi as they continued to move forward. He drew ou t his comlink and thumbed it on.

The four personnel carriers broke formation, one crossing past the group of Jedi and swinging in at their left side, one drawing up short and landing to their right. The third slid into place between them and the Senate Build ing, while the fourth settled immediately ahead of them. The maneuver, smoo th and seemingly well practiced, left the Jedi and Han within a large, open

-cornered box of vehicles. The un-hurried and matter-of-fact approach did n ot alarm the citizens on the plaza, but many were obviously curious about w hat was going on and began to work their way toward the vehicles.

The sides of the transports facing the Jedi opened. They were large swing-o ut doors, and from each vehicle issued two full squadrons of men and women in the blue uniforms and helmets of Galactic Alliance Security.

They wore b lack riot armor on chests, forearms, and lower legs, and carried blaster ri fles.

There were also civilians aboard each transport—if bounty hunters, as Luke suspected these beings were, counted as civilians. One was a male Quarren i n blue-green robes, swinging up onto his shoulder a cylindrical weapon that looked like it carried missiles sufficient to bring down medium-sized buil dings; his rubbery skin and facial tentacles were rigid with concentration.

Another was a petite woman with long black hair, wearing dark robes delibe rately fashioned after those of a Jedi. She carried an unlit lightsaber in her hand. Luke had never seen her before. A third, unusual to see in this d ay and age, was a Skakoan, his body encased in a round-cornered, brass-colo red robotic suit.

There were more bounty hunters, two or three in each transport. Luke noted t heir positions but did not react.

From the security agents, who spread out into a line encircling the Jedi, Lu ke felt mixed emotions. A few were expectant, spoiling for a fight. Many wer e worried, even fearful, and determined not to show it in front of their com rades. A few were very, very frustrated.

Luke glanced among his comrades. "Stay calm. We've known for some time that this was coming."

Which was true. A few weeks earlier, rumors had fallen into the ears of Luk e's political allies that the Alliance government was making a legal case a gainst him—a charge of dereliction of duty resulting from his actions durin g the war with the Confederation. Leading a StealthX unit as part of the Al liance military at a crucial battle, Luke had with-drawn his Jedi from the field and then entirely from the Alliance chain of command, later leading t hem in assaults against Jacen Solo. Such an action would constitute treason in other circumstances, but no one in the Alliance would make a capital ch arge stick against someone who had risked all to oppose Colonel Solo. Still

, someone in the Alliance government was clearly offended by the desertion and intended to extract some legal satisfaction from Luke.

One of the security officers, a man with captain's insignia on his uni-form, his prominent jaw almost ridiculously square, his eyes all but hid-den under the partly raised blast visor of his helmet, led a party of four other securi ty personnel toward the Jedi. Luke turned to face them.

"Master Luke Skywalker." The captain's voice was deep and grim. He came to a halt two meters from Luke. The members of his detail, thrown off by his sud den stop, skidded a little to make sure they did not bump into their superio r. "I am Captain Savar, Galactic Alliance Security." He held up a black data card, small in his gloved palm. "This is a warrant for your arrest.

I now ex ercise it. Please do not offer resis-tance."

Luke could feel Han and Jaina bristling, but the other Jedi re-mained calm.

He could also feel Ben, meters away, agitated and deter-mined.

Luke put on a broad, welcoming smile. "I wouldn't think of caus-ing you tr ouble, Captain. May I disarm myself?"

"Carefully." The captain was clearly not put off by Luke's compli-ance, bu t Luke sensed disappointment from some of the security troopers and most o f the bounty hunters.

And, curiously, from many of the onlookers beyond the circle of troopers. L
uke spared them a glance. Many of them, far more than if the plaza crowd ha d just been random visitors arriving at or leaving the Senate Building, wer e holding holocam rigs, many of professional quality.

Slowly, Luke took his lightsaber from his belt. But as Savar stepped forward to reach for it, Luke passed it to Leia. She clipped it to her belt alongside her own.

Savar stopped abruptly. His expression turned to one of disapproval. "That, Master Skywalker, does not constitute full cooperation."

Leia turned a scornful look on the captain. "I'll wager you a month's salar y

—yours, not mine, since I don't receive a salary—that your warrant doesn't mention his lightsaber. Warrants almost never do. You know why? I suspect not. It's because the damage each one does is indistinguishable from the da mage of any other, so they are of almost no use as forensic evidence. Now, does your warrant specify his lightsaber?"

Savar looked at her but ignored the question. He returned his at-tention to Luke. "Please turn around and place your hands behind your back. I have inst ructions to shackle you."

Luke obliged, turning to face his companions. He kept up his cheerful demea nor. It wouldn't do for any of the holocams to see him looking irritable, f or any recordings of such a response would appear on the news broadcasts.

Captain Savar grasped Luke's right wrist and snapped a stun cuff upon it.

Han was not as cordial as Luke. "Arc you under orders to treat him like a common criminal, bantha-brain?"

Luke felt Savar stiffen, felt a rush of frustration, anger, and, yes, guilt fro m the officer. It startled Luke; clearly, this was no prosecutor-ial lackey enj oying the arrest, but someone who regretted it.

"He's resisting!" The voice was muffled and watery. Luke knew it had to be t he Quarren speaking. Luke spun, his right arm still in the captain's grasp, in time to see the Quarren bringing his shoulder weapon into line, aiming at Luke.

From that moment, things moved fast. Five lightsabers, Luke's not among the m, snap-hissed into colorful, humming life and were raised against possible attacks. One security agent, who looked to be a boy about Ben's age, twitc hed and fired, probably inadvertently; the bolt sped toward Luke.

He leaned away from it, not feeling threatened, but Kam caught it on his blade and b ounced it almost straight down into the permacrete.

Han, a blaster suddenly in hand—a small, powerful civilian model, not his u sual DL-44—fired, and the shot sheared through the boy's rifle, throwing th e ruined weapon out of his hands.

The Quarren didn't fire. There was now a lightsaber tip poised directly ben The Quarren didn't fire. There was now a lightsaber tip poised directly ben eath his neck. The blade belonged to none of the Jedi; the dark-haired woma n held it, her hand rock-steady, a curious smile on her face. The Quarren's gaze was on her now rather than on Luke.

The security troops brought their weapons up, variously aiming at Han and the Jedi, but, disciplined operatives, they held their fire pend-ing their capta in's order.

Savar, his expression ugly, turned toward the Quarren. "Nyz, did you just n ot understand the words support role? Or are you stupid enough to violate m y orders deliberately?"

The Quarren hesitated. "You stiffened. The only reasonable con-clusion was that he used a Jedi technique on you."

"The only reasonable conclusion is that you're an idiot. And I don't see yo u putting your weapon down." At Savar's words, a half squad of operatives a imed at the Quarren, though it was clear the woman with the saber needed no help.

The Quarren, reluctant, lowered the device. He glanced between the woman a nd the troops covering him. "You shouldn't point weapons at me.

It doesn't improve your prospects for survival."

Savar's expression became disdainful. "Now you're on record for threats.

Wor n-out, petulant, whiny threats, come to think of it." He turned to face Luke again.

The Jedi, at Luke's nod, deactivated and stowed their lightsabers. So did th e dark-haired woman. Han tucked his blaster away into a sheath at the small of his back. The troops finally lowered their rifles, though several kept an eye on the Quarren.

"Nice shooting," Luke whispered to Han.

Han's expression was sour. "Short-barreled piece of junk. I was aiming at hi s nose."

"Sure you were."

Savar led Luke to the personnel carrier that had landed directly in front.

Its crew of security troopers, plus the woman in dark Jedi robes and the Skakoan, packed in as well. Leia insisted that someone accom-pany Luke, an d Savar chose Han—"Not a Jedi" were his words.

With Han Solo on one side and an empty seat on the other, Luke waited, list ening as Savar, outside, addressed members of his detail. "Bessen, you are the stupidest trooper I've ever had the displeasure to command. Who told yo u to shoot the prisoner?"

"No one, sir, I didn't—I didn't mean—"

"Good answer. 'I didn't mean to, I'm just incompetent.' Are you competent to do two hundred push-ups for me?"

The boy's tone became one of dejection. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Sergeant Carn, come watch him do two hundred push-ups, then acqui re transport and watch him run back to the blockhouse on foot."

Han whispered, "To think I originally chose a military career."

"You had a military career. You made the rank of general, then re-tired."

"Don't rub it in."

"Can you do two hundred push-ups?"

"Shut up."

The troopers watched, eyes wide, as two of the most famous humans in the ga laxy, one of them under arrest for a felony, made small talk.

Savar, entering, slammed the transport's side doors shut behind him, leavi ng them all illuminated by weak blue glow rods. He sat down beside Luke.

As the transport lifted off, Han looked among the troopers. "Who wants to play some sabacc? I'll use my winnings for Master Skywalker's bail."

Chapter Three

GALACTIC ALLIANCE SECURITY BLOCKHOUSE, GOVERNMENT D

ISTRICT, CORUSCANT

LUKE WAS TAKEN TO A GA SECURITY BUILDING, WHERE HE WAS
separated from H
an, who remained in the building's crowded main lobby, already making c alls on his comlink. Troopers hustled Luke into a back chamber where he was searched and relieved of his personal posses-sions, then briefly h olorecorded for identification purposes. After that, he was taken to an other room, this one furnished with a bare table and chairs, where Capt ain Savar asked if he would consent to answer ques-tions without his ad vocate present. Luke declined.

His next stop was a solitary confinement holding cell, a special one—beyon d the durasteel bars were the glows of military-grade en-ergy shields. The re Luke was unshackled and left alone.

A considerable time passed—Luke could not be sure how long it was, as his chrono was one of the items removed from him—and then a visitor was show n in. The man was a Twi'lek, green-skinned, broad-shouldered, richly dres sed in black and gray office garments of a style common on Coruscant. His lekku—brain-tails—were wrapped around his neck. His brow ridge often cas t his red eyes into deep gloom. The anger on his face and the stiffness w ith which he held himself made him a forbidding picture.

But Luke was delighted to see him. The Twi'lek, a pilot during the glory ye ars of Wedge Antilles's Rogue Squadron, had lost his right leg below the kn ee in an engagement and subsequently returned to the practice of law. His l imb replaced by a prosthetic one, he had performed as an attorney in numero us places across the galaxy and was now a familiar face in Coruscant litiga tion, interspersing high-paying cases with advocacy involving pilots or iss ues of constitutional law.

Luke sprang to his feet as the Twi'lek was shown through the cell door. As t he shields reactivated beyond the bars, he held out his hand. "Nawara. It fi nally happened."

Nawara Ven shook Luke's hand, but his expression did not brighten. "No, it didn't. Not the way we expected."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe you'd better sit down." He gestured at the cot that consti-tuted half th e furniture in the cell.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"They tricked us, Master Skywalker, and I'm feeling rather foolish at being tricked. We didn't look beyond the rumors that this was all about you lead ing the Jedi out of the Alliance camp and waging a pri-vate war on Colonel Solo two years ago."

"It's not about that?"

Nawara shook his head. "The government is actually asserting that, in not r ecognizing Jacen Solo's degenerative moral and ethical changes—the only way they can say 'descent to the dark side' in legalese—you were derelict in y our duty as the Jedi Grand Master and were partly responsible for every con sequence of his subsequent abuse of power. In other words, a share of every death, every act of torture, every butchered legal right, every military e xcess performed by the Galactic Alliance in the last war is being laid at y our feet."

Luke felt the air go out of his lungs. He sat down. "You're not se-rious."

"As serious as death." Nawara frowned, deepening the shadow cast by his bro w. "I'm certain they're holding back a related charge of trea-son as a nego tiating point. The maximum possible sentence for that is, of course, death."

Luke drew in and then let out a deep breath of hurt. He had to ac-knowledge that some part of the accusation was valid—he should have consciously reco gnized Jacen's excesses long before he had. That he had not, that almost no one in his immediate circle had done so, was a tribute to the power of sel f-deception and denial.

Of course, others had recognized Jacen's fall earlier. Ben, whom Luke had not listened to. Luke's wife, Mara, who had kept her own counsel . . . and had d ied in doing so. If there was any death Luke bore partial blame for due to hi s refusal to accept reality, it was hers. While his grief had receded from ev eryday life, the pain still arose at unex-pected moments to stab him in the h eart. It was almost a physical pain, like a punch to the gut. He took another deep breath.

Nawara dragged the other piece of furniture, a skeletal metal chair, forward and sat backward on it, resting his arms atop the back. "We can beat this c harge, too. It will be harder than the fight we were an-ticipating. It will require a considerable amount of mud slinging. Everyone associated with Jace n bears the same responsibility, meaning a lot of people in the wartime gove rnment, yet they're not being charged. We can demonstrate that you're being singled out because you're a Jedi. Because you're the face of the Jedi Order

."

"Is that the truth? Is that why I'm being charged?"

"As far as I can tell from the hints I've picked up since your arrest, from the favors I called in while waiting to see you, it is."

"Explain that."

Nawara considered his words. "You must understand, I appreciate the Jedi.

What you do, what you risk, what you accomplish. But not everybody does.

Y
ou're unpredictable. From a military point of view, which I also understan d, ou're unpredictable. From a military point of view, which I also understan d, you're conceivably the most irritating force in the galaxy."

That brought a brief smile to Luke's face. "True." He nodded, un-repentant.

"We have a sort of loose alliance with chains of command and legal precede nt. Following orders is not as important as achieving goals."

"The Alliance's military and ex-military leaders intensely dislike a resource they know they can't control completely."

"So is the military behind this, or Daala?"

"The Chief of State, but many in the military support her." Nawara paused a s if reluctant to continue. "They can actually win this legal war even if w e stomp them to pieces in some of the battles. If we mount a successful leg al defense, so much dirt gets spread around that the Jedi lose a lot of pub lic and government support—compared with what you get if the Jedi and the g overnment suddenly decide to work hand in hand again. Or perhaps they have a case that's too strong for us. On the one hand, they might offer you a ba rgain: go free and manage the Jedi under their terms. On the other hand, th ey might just convict. Then you go to prison ... or do what they'd prefer y ou to, run off into hiding and prove your unreliability and criminal nature."

Luke leaned back against the bars behind his cot and whistled. "Today just ke eps getting better and better."

"They've been putting this together for a while. Some of my sources suggest that the order to make this case came down possibly as long ago as a year, maybe longer."

Luke thought about that. "Then why issue the warrant now? Did it take them all this time to assemble the case?"

"No. The timing, your arrest taking place in a public venue on the first day of the Unification Summit, is obviously no coincidence. It constitutes send ing a message."

"To the parties considering rejoining the Alliance."

"Yes."

Luke scratched his jaw and thought about it. "They're saying to the Imperia l Remnant, We're putting a leash on the people who gave you so much trouble over the years. It's safe to come back."

"I believe so."

"And they're telling the Confederation, You and the Jedi had a mu-tual enem y during the war, but now we control them, which is another good reason to rejoin.'"

"My thinking matches yours."

"Also another good reason to exclude the Hapans this time around. Queen Moth er Tenel Ka would not react favorably to the ac-tion against me. If she does n't participate until the next summit, this situation could be resolved by t hen and she'd have time to cool down." Luke stood and began pacing.

His stom ach fluttered, either from tension or from the fact that he'd had no meal si nce his arrest, and he drew on inner reserves of calm to settle it.

"Nawara, I'm not sure we can change the way we operate within the Alliance, or shoul d. We serve a higher cause. Life, calm, progress toward a fair and serene fu ture. Self-interest and the kind of pragmatism that sacrifices inno-cent liv es don't motivate us the way they can the civilian and military authorities.'

Nawara offered him an unhappy smile. "History, as interpreted by non-Jedi, demonstrates that you're wrong. In the records, Jedi often demonstrate thes e self-serving and destructive impulses. They just stop calling themselves Jedi. Like Jacen Solo did."

"Ouch."

"Your arraignment's in two hours. I can have a different set of clothes deliv ered if you'd prefer to appear before the judge in some-thing fresher or more cheerful."

Luke glanced down at his black Grand Master robes. He winced, considerin g how they might remind a judge of the garments preferred by Jacen Solo.

"Send for my white and tan robes, would you?"

"Done."

* * *

COURT CHAMBERS, CORUSCANT

At the arraignment, Leia, Han, and Ben waited in the audience, which other wise seemed to be made up entirely of the press, all with holocams running

.

A gray-skinned Duros judge, chosen out of the standard rotation of Alliance judges, turned out to be sympathetic to the Jedi. He listened to the charges

, ignored the prosecutor's assertion that Luke was a flight risk, ordered Lu ke to appear at hearings that would proceed from this event, and released hi m on his own recognizance. Minutes later, Luke, his family, and Nawara Ven e xited the building through a portal Nawara knew but the press did not. They emerged at the fortieth-story walkway level into fresh air and nighttime dar kness alle-viated by pedestrian lights and traffic streams.

Luke opened the bag Captain Savar had given him at arraignment's end and b egan pocketing his personal effects. "That was a bad day. I look forward t o some meditation."

Grim-faced, Leia handed him his lightsaber. "I don't think you'll get that cha nce. Things just keep getting better and better."

* * *

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

The Jedi Temple's medical center was a complete, if compact, hospital faci lity—operating theater, private recovery rooms, common ward, bacta chamber s, therapy chambers, sealed atmosphere rooms to simu-late various planetar y environments, laboratories—and Valin Horn was now the centerpiece of the neurology lab. Strapped to a deacti-vated repulsor gurney that was restin g on a platform built to accom-modate it, he strained against his restrain ts, not speaking. There was no one present for him to speak to.

They watched him from an adjacent chamber through a sheet of transparistee l that was reflective on the lab side, transparent on the observer side.

Luke stood with Master Cilghal, the Mon Calamari Jedi Master who was the T
emple's foremost medical expert. Also on hand were the three other members of the Horn family, Leia, and Ben. Jysella Horn, Valin's sister, a lean w oman in her midtwenties, wore a look of resolute calmness appropriate to a Jedi, but redness around her large, expressive eyes suggested that she ha d been crying. Her mother, Mirax, looked grimly determined and seemed unab le to turn away from watching Valin.

Cilghal, her voice as gravelly as that of most Mon Cals, spoke clin-ically.

"The patient is not rational and not cooperative. He continues to insist tha t everyone he knows, whom he sees now, has been replaced by an imposter. He is paranoid and delusional."

Leia became tight-faced. "Like Seff, only in a different way. Seff was on about Mandos." Not long before, while traveling aboard the Millennium Falc on, Leia and Han had encountered the Jedi Knight Seff Hellin, who had exhi bited a mania as pervasive as that which Valin seemed to be experiencing.

Seff had left their company before he could be evaluated.

The similarity of their behavior sounded ominously to Luke like somethin g one may have contracted from the other, or something they could have d eveloped from exposure to a common source.

"His blood pressure is high, at a level consistent with his state of anxiety

," Cilghal went on, "and there are greater-than-normal levels of stress horm ones in his blood. Toxicology, virology, and bacteriology reports are in the ir preliminary stages but have suggested no answer. Basic neurological tests suggest no damage, but we have not been able to employ more advanced scans.

"

Luke glanced at her. "Why not?"

"I'll show you." Cilghal moved to a monitor affixed at head height on the w all beside the viewport. Delicately, because her larger-than-human hands we re ill suited to the task, she depressed a number of keys beneath the monit or.

The monitor screen snapped into life, showing a series of five jagged lines, like simple graphical representations of extremely precip-itous mountain rang es, one above the other. "This," Cilghal explained, "is a brain scan, set to display brain wave forms. It can be set to show many different types of data in different types of graphical representa-tion. This is the scan of a normal being—myself, as a matter of fact.

"Now I will show you Valin's first scan." She clicked another series of butto ns.

The image on the screen was wiped away, replaced by bars of jagged peak-an d-trough lines so tightly packed, so extreme and savage that Jysella took an involuntary step back from the display. Cilghal continued,

"No living m ember of any species we know could display waveforms like this and survive for very long. A few minutes after we took this, we took this and survive for very long. A few minutes after we took this, we took another reading.

It, and subsequent ones, looked like this."

The monitor image wiped again. Luke thought for a moment that it had not be en replaced, for the screen was almost blank. But there were still measurin g bars to the right and left of the display. There were simply no lines bet ween—not one.

Cilghal blinked at the image. "This is the brain scan reading of a dead perso n. Valin Horn is demonstrably not dead. There is no way a reading of Valin co uld yield a result like this. But it did."

"I've seen this before." Luke stared curiously at the screen, then glanced o ver at Valin, who was glaring at the viewport. Though unable to see through it, he seemed to be staring at Luke; perhaps he could feel the distinctive p resence of the Grand Master. "Years ago."

Cilghal switched the monitor off. "That's true." Her voice sounded reflectiv e. "Perhaps you should explain for the others."

"Jacen could do that. Deliberately, as a Force technique. He did it once during the Killik crisis."

"Is it a technique you know, Master Skywalker?"

Luke shook his head. "I assume it was something he picked up dur-ing his wa nderings among all the Force groups he visited." He turned his attention to the Horns. "But where did Valin learn it?"

Corran shook his head. "He's never mentioned it. And I'd expect him to, just for fun. 'Look what I can do that my old man can't,' that sort of thing."

H
e glanced at his daughter. "Jysella is more of a confi-dante. She may know."

Jysella looked from her father to Luke. "Valin and I knew Jacen, of course.

But he was a few years older than Valin, and that makes a big difference w hen you're an adolescent. Jacen was out fighting the war against the Yuuzha n Vong while Valin and I were stuck in the Maw, at Shelter, for the last ha lf of the war. We didn't see him at all during the years he spent wandering

, and not much after that."

Luke frowned. It didn't sound like the sort of relationship in which Jacen would teach Valin an obscure Force technique. "And how about Valin and Se ff?"

Jysella shook her head, causing her brown hair to sway. "They weren't clos e. We all studied together at Shelter and afterward, but once we were appr enticed, following our respective Masters around, hardly ever. Occasionall y one or the other of us would encounter him on missions. We were acquaint ances, colleagues, but we weren't social buddies."

Luke heaved a sigh. "But the similarities are too striking to be a coinciden ce. Seff also knew an obscure Force technique we can't ac-count for.

Another one that Jacen exhibited, a Force-based paralysis. There's just too much mi ssing in what we know about Jacen's travels, even his thought processes. Whe ther or not it has any bearing on Valin, at some point we need to fill in as many details as we can about what he was up to in the years prior to the Ki llik crisis."

Corran caught Cilghal's eye. "Is there anything you can do for him? To snap him out of it?"

"Nothing at the moment. We need psychological experts to evalu-ate the rec ordings we have made of him. We need complete toxicological lab work to co me back. We need to find a way to complete a brain scan ... As far as we c an tell, whatever he's doing to thwart the scan-ner works even when he sle eps. I wish he hadn't awakened from Mirax's stun bolt before we tried the scanner the first time."

She pressed another couple of switches on the control board. An opaque panel slid down in front of the window, cutting off their view of the malevolentl y staring Valin. Mirax started, then reluctantly turned back toward the othe rs.

"Let's go upstairs," Luke said. "Sit down, get some caf, and figure out wha t to do about this. And other problems. Ben, I want you to ex-ercise your i nvestigative skills and see what information you can get me on the bounty h unters we encountered today."

"Will do."

"Will he be all right, left alone?" Mirax's tone was soft, full of pain.

"He is being watched constantly on monitors by my staff." Cilghal sounded c onfident, reassuring. "They will also look on him personally every half hou r to an hour. He is not strong enough to break through his straps, and, as you know, like his father he lacks telekinetic strength—he cannot free hims elf that way." She led them from the chamber.

Luke patted Corran's back as they departed. "Did you have any trouble with the authorities?"

"We didn't wait for them. Just threw the boy in Mirax's speeder and came stra ight here ..."

* * *

Valin could sense their departure. Bright lights in the Force, somehow appr oximating those of his family and respected teachers, grew more distant.

He smiled to himself. They were nowhere near as smart as they thought they were, no matter how much research they may have done. They did not know a ll his secrets, including the one that was going to free him.

He closed his eyes and looked for other lights in the Force—tiny ones in nea rby pockets and streams. Individually they did not hold much life, but their collective biomass exceeded that of all the sapient beings on Coruscant.

They were the insects, and though he had not done so in years, he remember ed how to be their friend. Now he needed them to come here.

He needed cert ain species that he could convince to crawl out of gaps in the Temple wall s, march up his gurney, and consume just a small portion of one strap hold ing him down.

One strap, and then when his nurse came on an in-person visit, one lunge.

V
alin would escape and find his way to where the real people were.

* * *

A two-tone musical alarm awakened Luke. He sat up, glancing around his dar kened Temple quarters, and saw his monitor lit, Cilghal's face displayed o n it. "Master CilghaJ. What time is it?"

"Middle of the night. Valin Horn has escaped."

Luke sighed at the inevitability of those words. "This day . . . How long ago

?"

"Twenty minutes or so. His night nurse, Apprentice Romor, is not badly hurt but has a concussion."

"Do we have any leads on where Valin went?"

"Better than that. We have the tracking device I planted below his skin in th e event of such an occurrence. He will begin to feel it when the local anesth etic I injected there begins to wear off, but that gives us a few hours still

. Unfortunately, he seems to be spending a certain amount of time traveling t hrough the undercity, so our signal is inter-mittent."

Luke rose and began putting on his white tunic. "Alert the other Masters.

As semble all the Jedi Knights present that the Temple can spare. Let Han and L
eia know. I'll be in the Great Hall in three min-utes."

"And the Horns?"

"They don't need to know."

Chapter Four

SENATE BUILDING PLAZA, CORUSCANT

SEHA SAT CROSS-LEGGED ON HARD, COLD PERMACRETE IN THE
darkness at the c enter of the plaza, glaring at the Senate Building before her. A lean g irl in her early twenties, she was dressed as a Jedi, her long red hair held back in a tail by elastic bands.

She glared because nothing was happening. Senatorial aides and of-fice work ers were arriving on foot in this predawn hour, a steady trickle, and that added up to nothing. None cast a look out into the darkness where Seha wait ed. None looked like Valin Horn.

Beside her, stretched out full length on the permacrete, wrapped up against the chill in a full-length hooded robe, lay Master Octa Ramis. A stoutly b uilt, muscular human woman, she lay with her eyes closed as if asleep.

The pale skin of her face, surrounded as it was by dark hair and dark cloak, wa s all that could be seen of her from more than a cou-ple of meters. Now she smiled, not opening her eyes. "You're not calm, Seha."

"I know, Master."

"The less calm you are, the less alert you are."

Seha gestured at the small tracker box that rested on the permacrete before h er. "I just have to watch this. It glows the same whether I'm calm or not."

"Spoken like a true, proper, lazy apprentice. Why, again, did I let you cho ose where we would have our stakeout?"

"Because I've been on a mission with Valin. I mean, Jedi Horn."

"And you brought us here because?"

Seha frowned, out of confusion rather than irritation. She had al-ready expl ained her logic once. "Because if he's thinking strangely, maybe he's thinki ng like an animal. Find a nest, lick his wounds, re-cover. I led him to the undercity here a couple of years ago. There's more security now, but he can find plenty of places to hide. And if he pops up here, he can use his Jedi p owers to steal very good vehicles or maybe kidnap prominent politicians."

"Very good. It's as good a reason for choosing a stakeout as any. You used your mind and your logic to lead us here. And now you're willing to simpl y abandon them and watch a box because that's just as good as thinking?"

Seha sighed. As usual, there was little reward in arguing with her teacher. "

No, Master." She tried to quiet her thoughts.

"Do you have a crush on him?"

Seha gave Octa a pained look. It was going to be one of those conversations

, no secrets safe. "Yes, Master. Well, I did once."

"Are you embarrassed by it?"

"No. I'm embarrassed that I had a crush on Jacen Solo."

"Don't be. He was a good, thoughtful Jedi for many years. And a nice-looking one. Took after his father. I had a crush on his father once upon a time."

Seha smiled. "You didn't."

"Yes. And just think of the chores you'll find yourself doing if you mention that to anyone."

"I shouldn't allow myself to have crushes, at least on Jedi. I have a crush o n Jacen Solo, he goes dark and dies. I have a crush on Valin Horn, he goes cr azy."

Octa's smile faded but did not go away entirely. "Once upon a time, I had more than a crush on a Jedi. He was tortured by the Yuuzhan Vong, then dro wned in freezing water fighting them. Should I have stopped loving?

Caring

? Being attracted?"

"No ..."

"Then you shouldn't, either."

The device at Seha's feet lit up, the bulb atop it glowing with a faint pulse of amber light. The pulse intensified, faded, and then became steady.

Octa must have felt Seha's excitement. She sat up, eyes opening, and looked at the tracker. "Well done, Seha."

"Thank you, Master."

"Call it in. Then we go looking."

* * *

Enneth Holkin, protocol aide to the honorable Denjax Teppler, co-Chief of St ate of Corellia, dismissed his driver well beyond the ve-hicle checkpoint th at marked the closest approach civilian speeders were allowed to make to the Senate Building. He had a lot to do this morning; a longer walk would settl e his mind. For security's sake, he kept his thumb through the panic ring on his topcoat. It wouldn't do for a Corellian functionary to be caught with a weapon at the summit, but the panic ring was perfectly legal and just as li kely to save his life in case of kidnapping or a protracted encounter with a criminal.

When he was not far past the checkpoint and beginning to cross the plaza, he heard a faint noise from immediately behind, a scrape of leather on permacr ete. He turned and saw the sole of a boot just be-fore it cracked against hi s jaw.

* * *

Valin, rested and calm, looked dispassionately down at the being he'd just assaulted. The man was his own approximate height and col-oration, which would prove useful.

He set about relieving the unconscious man of clothes and docu-ment bag.

He did not bother to take the curious metal ring, with a few centimeters of thi n black cord dangling from it, that encircled the man's left thumb.

* * *

More than two hundred meters away, in a claustrophobic security of-fice dee p within the Senate Building, a security station picked up an automated eme rgency transmission on the visiting dignitary comm band. The automated prog ramming selected one security officer from the several on duty and threw gr aphics up on his monitor. Relevant data on Enneth Holkin, including his nam e, political affiliations, homeworld, and known associates flickered to lif e on the screen. Next came a holorecording of his face and a copy of his cr iminal record, which consisted of stealing a dilapidated speeder bike for a joyride when he was a teenager on Corellia.

Then came a coordinate listing of his current location, which was, curiously, not far away.

The security agent, a lean, balding man who, after twenty years of street w ork, was more than happy to earn his living behind a computer terminal, yaw ned and typed a tracking instruction into his keyboard.

Out on the plaza and on the exterior wall of the Senate Building, holocams traversed from their usual monitoring patterns and aimed themselves toward the tracking coordinate. As the balding agent flipped from view to view, th e ultraviolet-enabled holocams all showed the same scene: a pale-skinned hu man male, lying faceup in one of the darkest portions of the plaza, eyes cl osed, wearing nothing but under-things. The readings from infrared holocams indicated that his body temperature was more or less stable, suggesting he was still alive.

The agent upped the computer system's threat code from green to yellow, sta ndard to alert. The security system responded by taking control of the exte rnal and internal holocam systems, noting the loca-tions of every individua l they detected, submitting faces to data banks whose usefulness had been v astly improved during the recent Galactic Alliance Guard years.

Every Senat or, aide, functionary, visiting politi-cian, hired companion, janitor, driv er, bodyguard, and celebrity within the scanning area was suddenly queued f or high-priority identification.

Seconds later, cautionary flags began to pop up on the agent's screen. Ave don Tiggs, actor, musician, and frequently arrested liber-tine, was exitin g with the Senator from Commenor. Gerhold Razzik, a member of the Imperial Remnant delegation who had no business being in the Rotunda, was there, g aping like a tourist, probably recording everything he saw with a disguise d holocam. Valin Horn, Jedi Knight, was on level 2, moving confidently and steadily through what should have been a secure corridor.

Octa Ramis, Jed i Master, in the company of a younger woman also dressed as a Jedi, was ap proach-ing the east main entrance.

The security agent had no special instructions concerning wayward musicians or Imperial spies, but he had very new, very specific orders about Jedi.

He activated his comlink and requested the Special Operations of-fice of the Chief of State.

* * *

"You have to let us in," Octa said.

The uniformed and helmeted security woman standing in front of the closed e ast entrance doors shrugged. "Actually, I don't."

"No, really, you do." Octa made a subtle gesture with one hand and poured so othing feelings of peace and compliance into the secu-rity agent. "It's Jedi business, very important."

The woman gave the Jedi Master a smile. Perhaps it would have been a scowl o f irritation had Octa not been smothering her with dreamy goodness through t he Force. "First, the doors just sealed. It's called a lockdown. Happens all the time, nothing to worry about, nothing to see here. I'm sure the office will tell us in a minute why. Second, no, not only can I not let you in unti l the lockdown ends, really I don't have to."

Exasperated, Octa turned away and returned to the side of her ap-prentice a few paces back. "We need another entrance. One with an appropriately wea k-willed guard."

Seha's eyes were unfocused as she stared at a blank wall of the building. "

He's moving. Looking for something. Ascending, I think."

"A vehicle. He has to be looking for an escape vehicle." Octa turned back t oward the guard and raised her voice. "You, where are the hangar exits from this building?"

"That's classified."

"Some of them are public!"

"Everything's classified during a lockdown."

Octa made a strangled noise and turned back to Seha. "I hate good guards. T
hey're the most inconvenient things in the universe."

"Happiness. He's elated."

"Can't he feel you?"

"Maybe. Maybe he doesn't care. He's about to get away."

"Meld with me. Give me a sense of him so I can pick him out."

Seha extended herself through the Force, a tentative expression of power

—sh e was years behind other Jedi students her age, many of whom were already J
edi Knights. But she performed the technique correctly, and Octa could feel her emotions, feel the distinctive charac-teristics of the living being Se ha was trying to track.

It was easier for the Master. "Up about ten meters, this way." She set off a t a trot northward, along the wall that would gradually curve around toward the north entrance. Seha followed.

Octa could feel decisions being made—"He's considering two ve-hicles.

No, he's taking two vehicles. How can he take two vehicles?"

"One inside the other?"

They found out seconds later. A hundred meters farther, they heard a tremend ous shriek of metal from ahead and above. A shuttle with Kuati markings emer ged from the building—through a closed portal, the impact hurling slabs of a rtificial stone and durasteel supports scores of meters.

Passing through the non-exit, which was too small for the shuttle's generous girth, caused the vehicle's upraised wings to rip clean off; they fell to either side. The shu ttle, angling downward, headed toward the permacrete of the plaza. Octa coul d neither see nor detect a pilot in the shuttle's cockpit.

The shuttle's repulsors were not the only ones to be heard. Before the build ing alarms cut in, their howl drowning out all other noises, Octa heard anot her, more familiar set of repulsors increasing in vol-ume from within the ha ngar.

She put on a Force-aided burst of speed, then leapt, trying to achieve as muc h altitude and distance as she could. As she leapt, she shouted,

"Push!"

Her apprentice, though underconfident and undertrained, was smart, and telek inesis was something she was good at. Octa felt Seha's effort not as a blow to her back but almost as a short blast of wind, a stream of power that loft ed her, propelled her.

As the gray X-wing emerged from the hangar through the ruined door, Octa sl ammed into the starboard side of the fuselage, her right arm scrabbling at the nose just in front of the canopy. The impact hammered her ribs.

Valin Horn, in the pilot's seat, inappropriately dressed in business-man's g arments, looked surprised. He stared at Octa, mouth open.

Unseen, behind Octa in the distance, the ruined shuttle came down on the pla za with a noise like tons of metal and ceramic refuse being dropped by a neg ligent giant. The noise became a screech and scrape as the shuttle skidded f orward, still propelled by its thrusters.

Octa knew Valin's preferred tactics as well as he did. He needed to bank and roll, cause her to drop off. But, halfway emerged through an irregular aper ture, he couldn't, not yet—to do so would mangle or even tear free the starf ighter's strike foils, turning the X-wing into an expensive, uncomfortable, ugly airspeeder.

Instead, Valin grimaced and eased the yoke forward, emerging two more met ers into the predawn air.

Octa got her offhand onto her lightsaber and managed to unclip it. She ignit ed it and thrust with the weapon at the canopy—not at Valin, but at the poin t closest to her right arm, where the canopy dogged into place against the f uselage.

The point of her weapon, driven at an awkward angle by her less practiced ha nd, skidded off the transparisteel and up, inflicting noth-ing but a scar on the canopy.

She tried again. Valin, timing his action by her attack, punched the thruster s just a little, throwing her off balance. She did not fall off, but the ener gy blade punched through the canopy centimeters behind the latch. The blade, just above Valin's hands on the yoke, hit the far side of the canopy and burn ed through there, too.

Now the X-wing was fully extracted from the hangar door. Valin gave Octa a mocking smile, elevated the starfighter's nose, and opened the thrusters fu ll force. The X-wing shot upward at a steep takeoff angle.

Octa felt her right hand slipping across the fuselage. She slid farther down the side of the cockpit, wildly waving her left arm and the lightsaber in it for balance, and then tried another blow. Her attack had no accuracy or lever age; it hit the canopy over Valin's face, well away from her intended point o f impact, and again left nothing but a scar.

Valin should have been rolling the X-wing by now, but he did not, and Octa lost a precious second or two trying to figure out why.

Then she understood. He's taking me as high as he can . . . so I'll die when I hit ground. She took a moment to look around, but of course there were no speeders below or close by—unauthorized traffic was forbidden this close to the Senate Building, and authorized traffic was rare at this hour.

Valin gave her a last look of triumph. He twitched the yoke and the X-wing s huddered. Octa's hand slipped free and she fell.

She felt a touch of regret. Force techniques to slow falling were of little use in open air at altitudes like this. She was going to be a mess, a dead mess, w hen she hit.

She deactivated her lightsaber and clipped it to her belt. It wouldn't do to have it shear through some innocent pedestrian running in the wake of the shu ttle, which, now burning, had come to a rest against the government building on the far side of the plaza.

Octa prepared herself for impact.

* * *

When Octa woke up, she knew only moments had passed. The Senate Building a larms were still howling. Sirens announced the imminent ar-rival of other official vehicles. There was also a persistent ringing in her head.

She didn't hurt that badly. Quickly, carefully, she flexed limbs, shifted her body, explored herself in the Force.

Not even a broken bone.

She opened her eyes and Seha, framed by stars, was kneeling over her, looki ng worried, crestfallen. "Master?"

"I'm all right." Octa struggled to sit up. Well, she wasn't entirely all righ t.

Every muscle hurt and she was certain she had a concussion. "You caught me

? With telekinesis?"

"Partly. You still hit hard."

"Not that hard." Octa managed a shaky laugh. "You did very, very well."

"But we lost. He got away."

"We won. He's in street clothes and his canopy isn't airtight. So he can't ma ke space. And he's airborne, so his tracking device will give away his locati on continuously. We flushed him." Standing, she stretched her back, trying to afford it a little relief. "Others will have to run him to ground."

Chapter Five

"COME TO COURSE TWO-SIX-NINE."

Han, following his wife's directions, banked the Falcon around and headed to ward the government district. Leia, in the copilot's seat, had her personal comlink to her ear.

The Falcon's comm board was alive with Coruscant Security and traffic monit ors warning Han to return to designated ship traffic lanes or be subject to arrest. He growled and switched the thing to silent mode. "They found him?

"

"They found him. He's in an X-wing with a hole in the cockpit."

"Armed?"

"Fifty-fifty chance. It was in the Senate Building, so it's either a fully fu nctional security vehicle or some Senator's unarmed memories-of-youth vehicle

. I'm hoping for the second option."

"Me, too."

"Come to two-five-nine."

"Nah." Han put the Falcon into a dive. His stomach fluttered, and the sensor screen filled up with tiny objects getting larger—small-vehicle traffic at an d below building-top level. Flashing down at terri-fying and illegal speed, h e twitched the controls right and left, nimbly dodging the much smaller civil ian vehicles.

"Han, what do you think—"

Then he was fully among them, streams of traffic above as well as below.

He pulled out of his dive two hundred meters below the aver-age height of the buildings.

"—you're doing?"

"This way, we're off the major sensor boards. Only vehicles with line of sig ht on us will complain."

"I understand that. I mean, why not turn to two-five-nine?"

"His course changes are just to jerk us around, to confuse us. I know where he's going."

"Where?"

"The spaceport, right at the edge of the government district. He stole a sta rfighter; that means he wants to make space. It's damaged, so he can't. He n eeds another one. Right?"

"Right."

"When it comes to piloting and pilots, I'm all-knowing."

Leia put an artificial sweetness into her voice. "I'll never argue with you aga in."

Han snorted and increased velocity. A Coruscant Security speeder following in his wake dropped back, left behind as though it were sud-denly standing still.

* * *

Luke and Ben, in Ben's nimble red airspeeder, received the transmis-sion wi th Han's guess about the spaceport.

Luke, at the controls, shook his head, not pleased. The spaceport, comparat ively flat and built at a much lower altitude than the sur-rounding residen tial, business, and government zones, was not, as most supposed, actually s ituated at bedrock level. Below it were many levels of machinery, repair ha ngars, Empire-era emergency bunkers, spaceport employee facilities, and rep air accesses.

If Han was right and Valin was headed that way, even if he was un-successfu l at stealing another spaceworthy vehicle he might escape into those subter ranean regions, making it hard or impossible to find him before he detected his tracking device and destroyed it.

Their speeder emerged from the skytowers and was abruptly out over the flatt er region surrounding the spaceport. It was mostly given over to speeder par king, though it had decorative elements, including tree-spotted grassy regio ns and a small artificial lake.

And sensor stations. Almost immediately, the speeder's comm board began bla ring with instructions for them to turn back, to stay away from restricted airspace.

"Tell them who we are." Luke had to raise his voice to a shout to be heard.

"I bet it doesn't work. Who's on the news as a criminal suspect? You are."

"Do it anyway." Luke put the speeder into a holding pattern, keep-ing close to the ring of skytowers, not approaching the port itself. The authorities might well decide to shoot down a suspicious speeder— piloted by a suspect ed criminal or not—heading straight toward an in-valuable government and ci vilian transportation resource. Sabotage and terror attacks had taken place as recently as the war, two years ear-lier.

Ben looked up from the comm board, startled. "We're not the only ones."

"What?" Luke scanned the airspace above the spaceport.

There were a lot of small vehicles there now, most of them airspeeders of o ne size or another. Some were bigger business vehicles, many with lettering and symbols on the sides.

From the utility compartment, Ben pulled out a pair of macro-binoculars an d held them to his eyes. "That one's a press vehicle. Turret-mounted holoc am on top. That one—hey, that's Jaina. The big green one—oh, kriff."

"Language. What is it?"

"It has an oversized driver's cab and that Skakoan is in it."

Luke frowned. Suddenly everyone knew that Valin was coming here, includi ng press and bounty hunters. That meant open comm channels were being mo nitored, and people with no business being here were up to date. Daala's people had to be doing this.

Then he saw it, almost at ground level, an X-wing painted in classic First Ga lactic Civil War grays. Its running lights were off; it was illumi-nated only by the glows from parking area pole lights—it flew beneath the altitude of t he lights themselves.

"Hold on." Luke pushed his control yoke forward, sending the speeder into a precipitous dive.

Ben's lips were drawn back in a grimace—perhaps because no teenager wants anyone else to endanger his vehicle recklessly, that being the teenager'

s own prerogative—but said, "Falcon's incoming."

"Good." Luke put the speeder on an intercept course, or a collision course i f anything went wrong, and switched the autopilot on. He un-latched his seat restraints and slid toward Ben. "Take the controls."

He was gratified to see his son's eyes open wide, but Ben did as he was told; the boy unbuckled, slid under his father, grabbed the con-trols, disengaged the autopilot.

Luke stood up in the scat, drawing on the Force to keep him pinned in place despite the rush of wind threatening to tear him free.

He counted on Ben to know what to do, and his son did not let him down.

Ben leveled off at the same altitude as the X-wing, com-pleting his maneuver j ust meters behind the starfighter, and drew alongside that vehicle's port s ide.

Luke sprang across the gap separating his seat from the cockpit. The wind th reatened to whip him away, but a boost of Force energy carried him to the fu selage just as Valin Horn was realizing he had a pace vehicle. Luke landed a stride the nose, facing astern, staring straight down into Valin's startled features.

Valin yanked up on the X-wing's armrests. The canopy was sud-denly open, s napping backward, and gone, and Valin hurtled into the sky, his pilot's ch air propelled by a crude one-use rocket.

* * *

"Stang! He punched out." Han pounded his steering yoke.

Leia looked as aggravated as Han felt. "Can the cargo tractor beam—"

"Not strong enough. Can't compensate for a fast-moving target."

"We have to go after Valin, then."

Han shook his head. "The ejection won't have left enough controls for Luke to land the X-wing. He may be able to lift it or push it down with the Forc e .

. . but land it with no controls? No. We have to help him." He heeled o ver, diving toward the X-wing.

* * *

"He punched out." Jaina reluctantly turned her attention from Luke, disappea ring toward the spaceport on the uncontrolled X-wing, and returned it to Val in, still ascending in his ejection seat. She banked and headed toward the r ogue Jedi.

In the passenger seat, Master Kyle Katarn, about Luke's age, dark-haired a nd dark-bearded, stretched as if coming out of a nap. "You plan to maneuve r underneath and catch him?"

"That's right."

Katarn pointed toward another speeder, a large, flatbed cargo hauler with fi gures standing in the cargo bed. This vehicle rose toward Valin's position f rom a much nearer position. "So do they."

* * *

Valin's seat reached its maximum altitude and began dropping. Immediately the short-term repulsor within the seat activated, slowing his descent.

He felt as though he'd taken a tremendous blow to the top of his head, doing no damage to it but compressing the spine beneath. Ejec-tions were always l ike that—bad, but better than the alternative.

And he'd always relish the look on Not-Luke's face when he'd ejected. It had been priceless.

A cargo hauler maneuvered itself toward his descent path. Grum-bling, he got his lightsaber into one hand, grabbing his seat restraint buckle with the o ther.

As the hauler came underneath, instead of waiting for the seat to touch down

, Valin unbuckled the restraints and flipped forward, land-ing on his feet m oments before the seat landed.

In the cargo bed, three individuals waited—a Quarren with a vastly oversiz ed weapon, a shining droid whose construction bore a slight re-semblance t o a human skeleton, and a tall blond woman whose black bantha-hide jacket was decorated with a vast number of claws and teeth in different sizes and colors, sewn in place; she carried a Wookiee bowcaster.

Valin smiled at them, but not in a friendly way. "Two maladjusted want-to-b e bounty hunters and their dressed-up protocol droid."

"Surrender," the Quarren said. "It will hurt less." He raised his preposterou s weapon to his shoulder.

"Jump into a fire." Valin all but ignored the two organic beings. He kept his attention on the droid—a YVH 1 combat droid, one of the most dangerous machines to be found anywhere.

Now even machines were giving him a bad feeling. And he could detect a l ife-form heading toward him from straight above—

He glanced upward to see a speeder car passing by overhead, and boot heels, flapping Jedi robes, and an illuminated lightsaber descend-ing toward him at a normal falling rate.

In his lower peripheral vision, he saw the three bounty hunters glance up to spot the descending Jedi. Valin took the opportunity to act: he grabbed his a bandoned ejection seat and leapt with it off the rear end of the cargo hauler

.

* * *

Jaina landed in a crouch just where Valin had been standing. He was gone.

S
he rose to glower at the bounty hunters. "Don't bother."

"We're not here to harm you," the YVH droid said, its tones utterly and con fidently human.

Jaina stared at the thing, nonplussed. "Just what have you been programmed for?"

She felt a tickle in the Force, warning of imminent attack, and saw the Quarr en's finger tighten on the trigger. She jumped to one side as he fired.

It did her no good. The missile that emerged from the weapon im-mediately f lared out into a haze that wrapped around her, clinging everywhere—it took her a fraction of a second to recognize it as a metal-mesh net trailing som e sort of cylindrical package.

Then the first jolt of electrical pain hit her. Startled, suddenly sepa-rated from her Force powers, she sailed over the edge of the cargo hauler and drop ped into empty space beyond.

* * *

Valin clung to the ejection seat and rode it down another twenty me-ters.

Th e next vehicle to approach him held no ersatz Jedi, no imposters that he cou ld see—it was a boxy blue speeder, the Galaxy 9 News logo painted on its sid e in yellow. It drew alongside, its pilot skillfully keeping pace with Valin

's rate of descent.

A dark-skinned woman leaned out the passenger-side window. "Jedi Horn!

Is it true you're on a destructive rampage?"

Valin leapt from his seat, slamming into the side of the speeder, holding on to the woman's door to keep from falling. She drew back, startled, but he g ave her a friendly smile. "Get me out of here, away from these people, and I

'll give you the greatest scoop you've ever had."

The woman's eyes widened. She turned to issue a brief command to her pilot, then turned back, all smiles. "Let me help you in . . ."

"I'll hang on here, thanks." The news speeder banked, sluggish, and headed toward the business district. "How did you know I was Valin Horn?"

"An arrest bulletin issued a little while ago by the office of the Chief of State

..."

* * *

The Quarren watched, startled, as Jaina Solo vanished over the lip.

The woman in the black jacket clapped him on the back. "Nice move, fish-head. She's not—"

Her words were cut off as an airspeeder, painted in a stylish silver-gray, div ed past the cargo hauler's cab, missing it by less than a meter.

The hauler's pilot reacted instinctively, veering to starboard and down. The sudden maneuver sharply tilted the cargo bed.

The Quarren staggered to his left and stumbled clean off the edge of the carg o hauler. The blond woman staggered, too, but dropped, rolled with an acrobat

's skill, and fetched up safely against the low rail at the side of the cargo bed.

The YVH droid didn't budge.

* * *

Luke flipped into the cockpit and did an involuntary dance for a mo-ment un til both feet found nonsuperheated areas on the floor of the still-smoking compartment.

He glanced at the controls and grimaced. Every screen was out of commissio n. Experimentally, he waggled the yoke and found it unre-sponsive. This wo uld be tricky, if not downright impossible.

Unless—

He turned. There, in the circular slot behind the cockpit, rested a gray and red R2 astromech.

"Hey, there. Can you pilot this thing?"

The R2 tweetled, ending on a sorrowful note.

"Forget steering. Can you kill the thrusters but leave the repulsors running?"

The R2 offered a series of notes that sounded quizzical. Luke heard starfight er systems dip and rise in power, fluctuations that lasted a fraction of a s econd each, then the R2 tweetled an affirmative.

"Do so. Execute. Problem solved." Luke turned to port. Ben was still there, a few meters away, pacing him with considerable skill.

Luke leapt back across, settling into the passenger seat. "Did you keep track of Valin?"

"Up thirty degrees, port twenty, three hundred meters."

"Strap in and take us there."

* * *

Leia shook her head as she watched Luke abandon the X-wing. "I'm not sure how, but he thinks he has it solved."

"Probably drafted the astromech. Took me a second to think of that myself."

Han did not look away from the silver-gray speeder, which had, moments earli er, matched the netted Jaina's precipitous fall; then the pilot had gestured

, drawing Jaina into the seat beside him with an exertion through the Force, and pulled out of his dive. Han glanced at his wife, who, watching Luke, ha dn't seen any of it.

He shook his head. Jaina must not even have been alarmed, since Leia had n ot even detected her brief emergency. He put the Falcon into a tight curve

, aiming it toward the news speeder that now bore Valin away and the lumbe ring cargo hauler chasing it. "That YVH droid could be bad news.

Want to t ake the belly lasers?"

"I do." Leia was unstrapped and up in an instant, headed aft toward the laser turret access shaft.

* * *

Jaina, helpless, spasmed again as another electrical shock coursed through he r. "Get this thing off me."

"I'm driving here, and that's Get this thing off me, please, Master Katarn."

She offered a very Han Solo-ish growl in response.

Dropping almost to parked-speeder level, Kyle set his vessel in pur-suit of Valin's conveyance and the cargo hauler. The hauler now seemed to be towin g something at the end of a cable. It took him a moment to recognize the Qu arren. A cable stretched between his weapon and the tail of the hauler, and the Quarren held on to his weapon with both arms as if to save his life. A s the hauler picked up speed, the Quarren was towed along behind at a more shallow angle.

Absently, barely looking, Kyle took his lightsaber from his belt, lit it, and lashed out against the metal cylinder attached to Jaina's net where it lay b ouncing on the back of the speeder. His blow sheared through the object witho ut scarring the speeder's paint beneath, "Bet-ter?"

"Actually, yes." Jaina lay there a few more moments, then began struggling wi th the net. It had relaxed, no longer constricting or cling-ing to itself, an d she was able to unwrap it within moments. "Electri-cal shocks."

"Interfering with your control over the Force. Which turns you from a Jedi into a rather weak gymnast with a spasming problem."

"That's one way to put it."

* * *

The Galaxy 9 News speeder reached the edge of the business district before a ny of the vehicles pursuing it caught up. It shot through the cleft between skytowers that constituted the end of the spaceport zone and dropped toward lower traffic lanes.

The bounty hunter cargo hauler followed, descending at an angle not recomme nded for such a big, ungainly vehicle, still trailing the Quarren, who look ed increasingly frantic. Then came Jaina and Kyle in their speeder, the Fal con, Luke and Ben, and finally a stream of speeders with Jedi, spaceport se curity, press, and more bounty hunters intermixed.

* * *

"Whoa." Kyle put the speeder into a side-to-side evasive maneuver an instant before the YVH droid in the cargo hauler opened fire. Streams of blasterfir e flashed beside his door, then just above Jaina's head, then immediately un der the fuselage.

A pulse of laserfire, four brilliant red streams converging so closely that they seemed to be one, crossed from above and behind the speeder to hit the YVH droid dead center in the chest. The droid was catapulted off its feet an d smashed through the rear of the hauler's control cab, disappearing complet ely.

Smoke poured out of the cab, and the hauler began to nose for-ward into a s hallow dive.

Jaina craned her neck back to see the Falcon, pacing the speeder at a higher altitude. She waved at her mother, clearly visible in the under-side turret

. "Thanks, Mom."

"Most mothers just pack a lunch." Kyle put on a burst of speed, ac-celerat ing toward the news speeder. "You want to try another jump?"

"I guess." Jaina checked her lightsaber, then clipped it to her belt.

Another speeder, black with arrow-tipped white stripes on the sides, open-to pped, raced past Kyle's. It was no civilian vehicle; the roar from its engin es was similar to that of a Podracer. It was a two-seater, and the pilot was the bounty hunter who dressed as a Jedi. Be-side her was a man Jaina had ba rely glimpsed at Luke's arrest, a Rodian holding an unusually long blaster r ifle, scoped, in his hands. As they roared past, the woman gave Kyle and Jai na a wave.

The striped racer dipped low and passed the news speeder moments later.

Jai na saw the passenger turn, raise his weapon, and fire at the news vehicle.

It was not a destructive shot—it was surgical. Smoke began issuing from the news speeder. It wobbled, probably from a fright reflex on the part of the pilot. Moments later, viewports all over the vehicle opened, allowing smok e to pour out everywhere.

* * *

Luke took a moment to assess the vista before him. The news speeder was cl early doomed, so Valin would be abandoning it as soon as possi-ble.

"Take me over it, just to one side."

Ben nodded and put on more speed. Crowding the edge of the traffic lane, he passed below the Falcon, then above Master Katarn and Jaina. Drawing near the news speeder, he maintained his higher alti-tude but sideslipped to por t, putting Luke directly above the speeder's roof.

Once again Luke looked down into the face of Valin Horn. He flipped over the side and landed at the rear of the speeder's roof, sta-bilizing himself thr ough the Force.

Valin flipped up to the roof. "Wish you'd taken longer with that X-wing."

Valin flipped up to the roof. "Wish you'd taken longer with that X-wing."

Luke gestured at the lightsaber Valin carried—not Valin's own, it was a very simple cylinder of shining steel. "Did that belong to your nurse?"

"Yes." Valin switched it on. "It's not very stylish, but—"

"That's enough." Luke advanced, activating his own lightsaber. Valin raised his in a preliminary block. Luke struck, twitching his blade out of the most obvious line of attack, and the blade sheared the hilt of Valin's weapon in two, not harming him.

Valin's blade switched off as the weapon's lower half dropped into the dar kened urban chasm below. Valin took a step back, the last step he could af ford before dropping off the front of the speeder, but Luke's advance was near instantaneous. The Grand Master slammed the butt of his own weapon in to Valin's temple.

Valin Horn dropped like a slaughterhouse bantha. Luke caught his topcoat l apel, keeping him from following the lightsaber wreckage into the depths.

Chapter Six

THE PILOT OR THE NEWS SPEEDER NEEDED NO URGING FROM

LUKE. He picked the nearest plausible landing spot, a portion of a twentieth-story-altitud e pedestrian walkway broad enough for two starfighters to land abreast, and set down. Immediately, all the pursuit vehicles set down on one si de or the other of it—all but the Falcon, which rose, looking for a bro ader landing area.

Jaina, Kyle, and Ben joined Luke. At his instant order, they stood at the fou r corners of the news speeder, lightsabers unlit but in hand, and waved the o ncoming security troopers, press, and onlookers back. The security troopers, no ranking officer present, hesitated in the face of unthreatening but armed Jedi resistance and simply formed up lines, keeping the press and observers a t bay, barring the exit paths of the Jedi.

Kyp Durron and Jedi Knight Doran Tainer arrived moments later, filling in th e Jedi line, and Luke could see other Jedi speeders moving in for agile, ill egal landings. Luke shook his head. "This is going to be a real mess."

"Going to be?" Kyp looked amazed. "Are you trying for some galactic recor d in the understatement event?"

The dark-haired female bounty hunter and her Rodian companion arrived, sho wed identification to the spaceport security officers, and moved through t heir line, confronting Luke. The woman smiled with what seemed like genuin e good cheer. "Care to surrender the pris-oner? It will save everybody tro uble."

Luke shook his head. "We'll manage this. You can save everyone a lot of trou ble by convincing the security forces to fall back and leave us to our busin ess."

She shook her head. "The Chief of State has ordered us to take the rogue Jed i into custody. Surely you've heard of her. Natasi Daala."

"I have, but I haven't heard of you. Who are you?"

She offered him a slight bow. "Zilaash Kuh. Not, I am afraid, at your service

."

"You're not a Jedi."

She nodded. "And may I present Kaddit."

The Rodian offered a minimal glance in Luke's direction, but he clearly ha d his eye on the growing numbers of Jedi and GA Security personnel.

The noise was incredible—the Falcon's repulsors howling, people shouting.

"Stand back! Stand back! GA Security has jurisdiction here!"

"Hand over the prisoner; this is not your jurisdiction."

"Take one more step and you'll be picking your nose with a pros-thetic!"

"Luke! Luke! When did you first realize you were a criminal?"

Master Cilghal was among the later Jedi arrivals. The security troopers let her enter, and she injected Valin with enough sedatives to keep a wampa unco nscious for a couple of days. But the security troopers and bounty hunters c learly would not open ranks to permit the Jedi to carry Valin out.

Zilaash a nd Kaddit took the opportunity to retreat to the security lines.

Han and Leia forced their way into the Jedi circle. Han stared out at the thi ckening lines of security troopers and shook his head. "This is getting way o ut of control, old buddy."

Luke nodded. "GA Security has legal jurisdiction, those others have a profit motive, and all we have is the fact that we're right. No one's going to bac k down until someone gets hurt."

Ben gestured toward someone in the security ranks. "There's a fa-miliar face

."

Luke peered in that direction. Captain Savar stood there, waving the secur ity men and women around him to silence. "This could help," Luke said.

Leia's expression was one of irritation. "It certainly couldn't hurt."

Luke calculated odds and resources. He now had twenty Jedi here, including six Masters. If violence erupted, the security troopers would be slaughte red—or perhaps not, depending on how well their two bounty hunter allies f ared.

Luke gestured until he got Captain Savar's attention. The officer headed hi s way, ignoring the guns at his back and lightsabers ahead of him, until he stood before Luke. "Quite a mess you Jedi have made here."

Luke shook his head. "It would have been a lot worse without us here. Is t here any way you can pack those bounty hunters into a spent fuel drum or s omething?"

"I wish. That's not on the list of options."

Luke felt as glum as the man looked. "Well, we've got to figure something out. One twitch like your boy had yesterday, and we're going to have blast er bolts, arms and legs, and who knows what else flying everywhere."

"So hand Valin Horn over."

"How do you know his name?"

"He was caught on holocam and identified when he stole a classic starfighter and crashed a Kuati shuttle at the Senate Building."

"Tell you what, you conduct us all to the Jedi Temple and we'll let you hav e an observer on hand while we study Jedi Horn to see what's wrong."

"Why would we want you to study our prisoner?"

Han and Leia, breaking from a bout of hurried consultation, stepped forward.

Leia's voice was at her most diplomatic; this was the voice she'd used for all her Chief of State speeches. "Grand Master, Captain, I believe my husban d and I can offer a solution that will defuse the immediate situation."

Captain Savar gave her a not entirely hopeful look. "Please."

"Mon Mothma Memorial Medical Center is pretty close to equidis-tant between the Temple and the Senate Building. That makes it a sort of halfway point fo r respective jurisdictions. Let's take Jedi Horn there. It's a secure facili ty and an enclosed space, so we can limit the number of people with access t o the situation—say, six Jedi and six se-curity agents."

Han nodded. "And no bounty hunters or press. None living, any-way."

Savar considered, took a look at the growing number of press and onlookers arriving, and nodded. He looked back over his shoulder. "Carn!

Commandeer a civilian vehicle suitable for carrying fifteen or more. With a civilian dr iver. We need it here, now."

"Yes, sir!" A broad-shouldered male trooper pushed his way through the ranks of security troopers and onlookers, then set off at a dead run.

* * *

It was almost a re-creation of the previous day's events in the Temple medic al center, but with a bigger and more diverse cast. Jedi, troopers, and the Horns waited for the doctors' reports while Valin lay uncon-scious.

News of the rampage spread like a tenement fire through the newsnets.

And the Jedi h ad little to do but watch the news coverage for the first several hours.

It wasn't good. Amateur recordings showed Valin's dressing-robe paranoia o utside the hostel the previous morning. Commentators asked why the Jedi ha d not surrendered him to the authorities then, which would have Jedi ha d not surrendered him to the authorities then, which would have prevented today's outrage. Luke's arrest was briefly covered, with many angles on th e Jedi, lightsabers lit, looking menac-ing. There were security recordings of Valin performing overrides on the X-wing and shuttle security, followe d by gloriously detailed scenes of the shuttle smashing out of the Senate Building and crashing nearby.

And then Valin's final rampage, covered in exacting detail by high-quality holorecorders and far too many members of the press.

Analysts cast the Jedi Order in the guise of ungoverned, unprinci-pled sup erhumans content to gratify themselves whatever the cost might be to the c ommon population—every Jedi a potential Jacen Solo. No such stigma was att ached to Luke Skywalker; his benevolence was too well known, too ingrained in the public consciousness. In-stead, he was cast as an out-of-touch aut ocrat, kindly but dangerously clueless, dedicated to a culture of entitlem ent that was decades behind the times.

After the ninth news cycle, Leia heaved a sigh. "I can feel the pub-lic turn ing against us from here. Minds are slamming shut like mal-functioning turbo lift doors."

Luke gave her a glum look of agreement. "Any recommenda-tions?"

"Daala's masters of reinterpretation already have the public half convinced t hat the only way to save civilization is to muzzle the Jedi. You need to prep are yourself for a fight."

* * *

The civilian doctors studying Valin reported just what Cilghal had: high st ress levels, no physical abnormalities, no evidence of poisoning or drugs, no way to test his neurological functions—Jacen's scanner-scrambling techni que stayed in effect even as Valin remained under heavy sedation.

By the ne xt day, Luke and Captain Savar had agreed on a reduced number of observers from each camp, the Horns not to count against the Jedi total.

Luke returne d to his duties.

The government prepared a case against Valin Horn and cleared dockets to ad vance Luke's first hearing. Nawara Ven confirmed that the prosecutors were exploiting Valin's actions for all they were worth. The situation was very, very bad for Luke's case.

As Nawara explained it, "The public is still hurting from a war where ever ybody suffered and nobody gained—a war worsened by a Jedi. They're pretty worked up. They want someone to take responsi-bility for Jacen Solo. They want a change they can point to, a change that means problems like Jacen S
olo and Valin Horn will never happen again. You can tell them all you want that muzzling the Jedi won't fix things. It's what they want, and they're turning against you."

It was true. Jedi on ordinary missions were booed. Ordinary peo-ple they de alt with were suddenly unhelpful, stalling investigations, and not just on Coruscant—the news, spreading throughout Alliance space, caused anti-Jedi s entiment to swell like a pond ripple that never seemed to weaken.

Jaina, as signed at her own request to be the Impe-rial Remnant-Jedi liaison, suffere d catcalls and was even thrown filth while in Jag's company.

Public speakin g engagements for which Jedi had been solicited months earlier were cancele d. A years-old academic thesis proposing that interacting with the Force co ntributed to a ten-dency toward madness was uncovered and redistributed, an d its au-thor, now an obscure philosophy professor on Corellia, was suddenl y the darling of interview shows.

Valin slept through it all, fruitlessly studied by doctors and chroni-cled by th e press.

The Unification Summit moved on, relegated to second-tier news coverage.

Perhaps the sudden absence of spotlights was a boon; polit-ical analysts reported promising responses from the Imperial Remnant and the Confederat ion.

* * *

A week after Valin's rampage, Luke went to bed, lay sleepless for three hou rs, then rose and dressed again. He walked the Temple halls for the next se veral hours. The Jedi he passed sensed his deep immersion in his thoughts a nd did not trouble him. Ben watched him during the hour he paced the Great Hall; then, distressed but unable to help, he went to his quarters to spend his own sleepless night.

Two hours before dawn, Luke used the comlink in his quarters to make a seri es of quick calls.

Not long thereafter, on foot, he approached the Senate Building. In a few hou rs, participants in the Unification Summit would collect again, but for now i t was a still office building.

He was greeted with courtesy at the main entrance and escorted to the floor where the Chief of State's offices were located. Outside those offices, anot her set of guards offered equal courtesy but required him to hand over his l ightsaber and submit to a brief full-body scan, which he did.

Then, finally, he was conducted into a large inner office, one dark-ened and unoccupied in this predawn hour. An aide activated the over-head lighting a nd offered him caf. He declined, and the aide left.

The office showed that this Chief of State had different aesthetic sensibili ties than Jacen Solo or Cha Niathal, who had preceded Daala in the position.

Jacen had preferred natural woods and landscape tones, though his taste had graduated toward even darker decor in his last months. Niathal, a Mon Calam ari, had preferred militaristic themes in blues and greens.

Daala, it seemed, chose to surround herself with the trappings of the old Em pire. Her personal office gleamed white, with desks, chairs, and computer eq uipment that could all have been recently transferred from the bridge of a S
tar Destroyer.

The door behind him hissed open, and Luke turned to see Daala enter. The Chi ef of State was once again in admiral's whites. Guards waited in the hall ou tside, their forbidding expressions, directed at Luke, vanishing as the door closed.

Daala extended her hand. "Master Skywalker."

Luke rose and shook it. "Chief Daala."

She moved around him to sit at the main desk. "Please, sit."

He did. It was a little odd—he had expected to feel something from her, ang er or resentment or a desire for vengeance, but he could detect no strong e motions, no aggression.

"Something to drink?"

He shook his head.

The Chief of State propped her elbows on her desk and rested her chin atop i nterlaced fingers. "When my staff tells me that the Jedi Grand Master wishes to see me, I take it as a serious matter, even if we are locked in legal ba ttle. And I assume, when the message does not indi-cate a purpose for the me eting, that it is one best expressed face-to-face. So here we are, face-to-f ace. What can I do for you—or you for us?"

"I'm actually not one hundred percent sure. Earlier this evening, I had a fee ling that we should meet. A presentiment in the Force."

"What did it mean?"

"I'm not certain, but I suspect it means that, somewhere, I now have the arg ument that will convince you to drop the case. Whether that's true or not, I have to be here. It might actually mean that I need to be in your presence when someone makes an attack on you."

"Perhaps the Force was telling you that you need to be here to sud-denly dis cover that I'm just an imposter with Daala's face, and that you need to cut me down."

"No."

"Well, then, let's wait and find out."

"Yes."

"You will let me know if you change your mind about caf."

"Yes."

"Or sweetcakes."

Luke sighed. The impulse that had brought him here seemed no closer to reve aling itself, and Daala clearly thought he was wasting her time.

"While we're waiting for the Force to announce its presence," she said, "I d id want to say something. I want you to understand, this suit is not persona l. Even when we were on opposite sides, representing enemy forces, I had eve ry respect for you. In reviewing your records, it became clear to me that yo u have had a significant and beneficial ef-fect on the galaxy"

Luke raised an eyebrow. "But you still need so very much to make the Jedi a mindlessly obedient branch of the government that you're pursuing the tria l."

"It's not about obedience."

"Oh, that's right. It's about not detecting a Jedi turning to evil. Which we s hould be able to do far more easily than, say, noticing an Imperial leader gro wing so callous that he'd obliterate an entire inno-cent world to convince oth er worlds to obey."

Daala became very still. Her face gave away no emotion, but Luke could fee l, just for a moment, the pain she had experienced long ago as her love, r espect, and even understanding for Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin withered and faded in the wake of the atrocities he had com-mitted in the Emperor's nam e.

Luke was sorry to make her relive that. But she clearly wanted to exchange blows, and Luke was not unarmed in this match.

She regained her composure a moment later. "It's not about that, either.

You'r e as guilty of not detecting Jacen Solo's turn to evil as oth-ers were of not checking the excesses of Imperial officers. But that's not why you're being tr ied. It's just the argument that will allow us to convict you."

"Why am I being tried, then? Give me the next layer of truth. Or the next lay er below that."

"It has to do with fairness, and responsibility, and the rule of law."

"Things the Jedi have always supported."

"Things the Jedi have always subverted, at least under your leader-ship."

Luke couldn't keep his astonishment from his face or voice. "That's ridiculou s."

"Let me give you a hypothetical example. A Coruscant bar in seedy sublevels.

Two patrons decide they don't like the looks of a third. They assault him.

A Jedi intervenes, out come blaster pistols and a lightsaber, whoosh, whoosh

, severed arms litter the barroom floor. Law enforcement officers are called

, the Jedi gives them a terse statement and then flits off to his next adven ture."

Luke nodded. "That's a simplistic and overly colorful way of putting it, but, yes, it happens." It had, in fact, happened almost ex-actly that way to him, with Luke in the role of the patron about to be assaulted, back before he wa s a Jedi himself, many years before.

"Do you not see anything wrong with the way the situation was re-solved?"

"Not really."

"First, there's the maiming of the suspects. Would it have been pos-sible for the Jedi to have defeated them without cutting off their arms?"

Luke nodded. "Possibly. Probably. But once the blasters came out of their h olsters, the situation became a lot more dangerous for every-body, patrons and Jedi included."

"Could the Jedi have disarmed them with some use of the Force?"

"That does happen. But we know the Jedi in your example made the correct choice."

"How so?"

"He was not just reacting to what he saw with his eyes and knew from his ex perience. He was in tune with the Force. The Force alerted him to the true level of danger and he responded appropriately."

"Sad that the Force can never be sworn in to testify about the sug-gestions it offers to the Jedi."

"True."

"Or to the Sith. The Force talks to the Sith, too, doesn't it?"

Luke blinked. "The dark side of the Force, yes."

"You didn't say your Jedi was only listening to the bright side—"

"Light side."

"Yes, thank you. You just said the Force. But let's stipulate that the good For ce is the only one our hypothetical Jedi listens to. It still sug-gests maiming an awful lot of the time."

"Hardly a life sentence of disfigurement and handicap. Modern prosthetics a re indistinguishable from flesh and bone." He held up his own prosthetic ha nd, waggling its fingers at her, as evidence.

"Though they have to be paid for by someone—often the state, when the amput ee is of the lower classes—and then maintained, at a cost in credits and te chnical skill in excess of the upkeep of an ordinary flesh-and-blood arm."

"Granted." Luke suppressed an impatient sigh. "Is that what the suit is abo ut, then? A perception that arms are being cut off at a higher rate than th e government recommends?"

"No, it's about the Jedi giving a cursory statement to law enforce-ment and t hen leaving. Or dashing off without giving one at all. Or just refusing to an swer one crucial question the investigating officer asks. And, in every case, getting away with it."

"I still don't understand, then."

"I'll walk you through it. The officers show up and ask questions, the Jedi g ives a fifty-word statement, the officers say, 'Thanks, now we need to go bac k to the neighborhood station for a full statement,' the Jedi says, 'Sorry, I have places to be,' and he's gone. Did the Jedi re-spond with appropriate fo rce? You think so, but at the government level we never learn, because a shor t while later he's on Commenor dealing with an organized crime family, then i n the Hapes Cluster . . ."

"Usually the Jedi docs make a full statement. Does cooperate to whatever deg ree the local authorities require."

"Usually, yes. I have a report here of a Jedi Knight named Seff Hellin who a ssaulted law officers just a few weeks ago. Whatever he needed to rush off t o do, he never came back to offer full cooperation to the authorities. Did h e?"

Luke suppressed the urge to fidget. He found himself wishing that Nawara Ve n were here, though Daala was herself not being backed up by an advocate. "

I can see how incomplete reports and investigations would be frustrating to the government. But you have to trust that we made the right choice at the right time. It's what we're trained to do."

The smile she turned on him was as frosty as anything Luke had seen in the s nowy outback of Hoth. "I do, do I? We'll get back to that. Grand Master, the hypothetical incident I described shows at a very minor, very frequent leve l that the Jedi are above the law.' '

"Not true. Anyone in the bar situation you described could have intervened w ith lethal force to save the victim from his beating."

"And then would have been obliged to make a full report, and stay in contact until the investigation was resolved. The Jedi don't respect that law, or a ny law they find inconvenient. And the choice to sever the arms comes danger ously close to a judicial sentence being enacted at the time of the interven tion. Judge, jury, executioner: Jedi."

"I'm sorry you have that impression." Luke frowned. "I'd come here hoping t hat I could persuade you to drop the case. But now I'm wondering whether I should go through the whole trial just to demonstrate to the public that we do cooperate with the authorities. That we don't consider ourselves above the law."

Daala nodded, her expression agreeable. "Let's talk about Kyp Durron."

"Master Durron is a fine, responsible Jedi."

"I'm not talking about the Jedi he is now. I'm talking about the teenager who destroyed most of the life in the Carida system all those years ago."

Luke, his composure no longer entirely intact, shifted uncomfort-ably. "He w as under the influence of the dark side of the Force at that time, affected by the mental sendings of a long-dead Sith Lord. And in the years since, he has proven himself to be courageous, a defender of life—"

"Yes, he has. I'm not questioning that. But I want to take you back a little over thirty years to shortly after he killed everyone who hadn't yet manage d to evacuate Carida in the two hours he generously gave the population.

Of course, the solar system he destroyed was an Impe-rial system, your enemy at the time, which does mitigate his crime in your eyes. Is that why you prote cted him, shielded him from legal ram-ifications, trained him?"

"No."

"Why did you?"

"Because I could look into his heart and see that he had cast the shadow of Exar Kun out, that he was no longer an agent of the dark side, that he had r epented."

"He said he was sorry, and he meant it, and that was sufficient jus-tice for the millions who died on Carida."

"You're oversimplifying. I knew that he was on the right path again."

"Because you have the power to see that. Because that's what Jedi are trained to do."

"Yes."

Daala sighed. "And because they're trained to do that, to see into people's hearts, sort truth from lies, see into the future where the criminal has r eformed and turned to a life of picking flowers, they can decide who should be thanked and who should be cut down, who should be forgiven and who shou ld be left for the ordinary officers of the law to convict. They protect th e common citizen but do not an-swer to him. They do not pay for their mista kes. They obey govern-ment orders when those orders conform to their moral code and not when they don't. And that's wrong. Any other their moral code and not when they don't. And that's wrong. Any other group exhibiting that degree of arrogance, that unconcern for the rule of law, would be clas

-sified as a criminal organization. That, ultimately, is what this case is about."

She was wrong. And yet she was chiefly wrong from the Jedi per-spective.

R
emove the Force from the equation, and she suddenly be-came right. That wa s jarring to Luke. It was so hard for him now to remember what it was like not to have the Force always contributing to his decision making.

It was then that he detected it: the evil that the Force had brought him here to see. He did not see it as a person or an object, but as a process, a trend

—one that he was a part of.

Understanding things as much as he could through Daala's per-spective, thro ugh the perspective of the common citizen, the one truth he could discern w as that if the galaxy thought that the Jedi were above the law, abuses were sure to spring up from that notion as toxic weeds growing rapidly from a p ile of manure.

Young Jedi, seeing the ease with which their Masters slid out from undernea th common but inconvenient civic responsibilities, would come to think that such behavior was their right. A few, on the fringes of the border between the light side and the dark side, would discern that Kyp Durron had escape d any visible consequence of his actions at Carida . . . would accept Luke'

s assertion that Darth Vader had been redeemed, had died a Jedi instead of a Sith despite his many murders, and would not understand the true meaning of the story.

The answer settled across Luke like a leaden shroud. To prevent this evil f rom growing, he had to lose this case, to be punished. That was what the Fo rce had brought him here to understand.

He met Daala's gaze again. "Will you be prosecuting Master Dur-ron next?"

"I will not. But I could authorize extradition for him to the Impe-rial Remn ant to face their charge of planetary genocide. Head of State Jagged Fel has rather reluctantly presented me with a proposal from the Moff Council on th at very subject. But such a thing could be avoided, of course, if we had alr eady set another decisive example."

Luke gave her a slow nod. "I came here hoping that, face-to-face, without a dvocates whispering in our ears, we could negotiate a deal. Now, having hea rd what you have to say, I am certain we can."

"Tell me."

Chapter Seven

NINTH HALL OF JUSTICE, CORUSCANT

THIS REALLY WAS A COURTROOM, A PLACE WHERE JUSTICE WAS
dis-pensed, an d, during regimes like Jacen Solo's, injustice as well. The walls wer e somber wood panel; the tables and the judge's elevated bench were a dark, beautiful caf-colored antique marble from Ithor.

Luke watched the proceedings from a slight state of detachment, brought on b y his lack of sleep and the air of unreality his own decision had created.

The judge, a severe-looking Falleen woman, her pale green skin contrasting sharply with her dark judicial robes, sat at her bench, studying the docume nts Nawara Ven and the government prosecutor had given her upon her arrival

. The audience at the back of the chamber buzzed with a little conversation

, and Luke could feel expectation from them far in excess of the level of n oise. It was here, the first action in Luke Skywalker's trial, and they wer e on hand to see blood spilled—metaphorically speaking.

Finally, the judge looked up, glanced at Luke and the two attor-neys, and spoke. "In Alliance case why-oh-oh-four-three-dash-seven-teen thousand fou rteen, The Galactic Federation of Free Alliances versus Luke Skywalker, we have a negotiated conclusion, agreed to this day by the prosecution, the defense, and myself."

A faint moan arose from portions of the audience. Luke could sense the sour ce of their dismay. Weeks of court hearings, stories of Jacen Solo's murder ous actions, embarrassing revelations, were all about to be headed off befo re they could take place in all their exploitation-news glory—wiped away by a plea bargain.

It should have been funny. But Luke didn't feel in the least humor-ous.

"The defendant will stand."

Luke and Nawara got to their feet.

"On the revised list of charges, now consisting of one charge, reck-less en dangerment of a population, how do you plead?"

Luke cleared his throat. "Guilty, Your Honor."

"You are found guilty as charged. Please sit." Once Luke and Nawara were s eated, she continued, "Thus ends the trial phase of these proceedings.

We now move on to the sentencing phase.

"For a period of time, beginning tomorrow at one hour before midnight in the current time zone and continuing for not less than ten Coruscant years, you are exiled from Coruscant. You will maintain a distance of not less than fi ve light-years from this world.

"During that same time period, you will not act as Grand Master of the Jedi Order, nor in any position of authority or consultation within the Order.

"During that same time, you will not visit or approach any closer than one l ight-year to any world upon which there exists a Jedi Order Temple, Jedi Ord er school, or any other Jedi Temple facility.

"During that same time, you will refrain from establishing any new Jedi Orde r Temple, Jedi Order school, or any other Jedi Temple facil-ity, or any busi ness that structurally or organizationally resembles those concerns and thus might readily be converted to such a concern after your sentence is fulfill ed.

"You will appoint Jedi Master Kenth Hamner to perform the duties of leader of the Jedi Order, and will subsequently exercise no influence over him for the duration of your sentence.

"Any violation of the above restrictions incurs a more severe penalty: incar ceration in an Alliance maximum-security prison facility for the remainder o f the ten-year period.

"By the provisions of this arrangement, your sentence can be com-muted or a pardon issued if you can convince a board of inquiry that you have deter mined the nature of the events and other causes that led to the aberrant a nd destructive behaviors of Colonel Jacen Solo lead-ing up to and during t he Second Galactic Civil War, the board of in-quiry to be made up of one p rominent member of each of the following: the Galactic Alliance Judiciary Branch, Galactic Alliance Medical Association, and Galactic Alliance Armed Forces, each of these individual members to be chosen by the Office of th e Galactic Alliance Chief of State.

"Do you understand these terms?"

Luke nodded. "Yes, Your Honor." He understood them very well. He and Daala had negotiated them, point for point, only hours before. But though he had played a part in selecting them, Luke still felt as though the situation we re a dream that was sad and tiring.

"It is so ordered. The sentencing phase is complete, and, by my order, this c ase is concluded." The judge stood, and all others in the chamber did as well to watch her leave by her private exit behind the bench.

When she was gone, the courtroom erupted into conversation, shouts, pleas from the members of the press for Luke to spare them a few words.

He kept his back to that portion of the chamber. Security troopers admitted members of the Jedi and Luke's family into the area of the chamber reserve d for advocates and their clients, and suddenly Luke was being embraced by Leia, Han, Ben, and Jaina, while other Jedi po-sitioned themselves as a liv ing wall between Luke and the audience.

"Ten years," Ben said. He looked as though he'd been hit in the head by a sp eeder bike.

"We'll fight this," Leia told him.

"Kenth Hamner?" That was Han, looking confounded. "Was he chosen because he's the dullest Jedi ever? He says two sentences and it puts Kowakian monkey-lizards to sleep."

Luke addressed his sister's comment first. "We won't fight this. I negotiated it

. I agreed to it."

"Without benefit of counsel." That was Nawara Ven, speaking under his breat h, just loud enough for the Jedi to hear.

"And it won't be the full ten years," Luke told Ben. "You heard the conditio ns for commutation at the end."

Han shook his head. "Buddy boy, Daala gets to appoint your tri-bunal. If th ey were still alive, she'd pick Palpatine, Lumiya, and Shimrra Jamaane to b e your judges."

Luke waved the objection away.

Captain Savar approached. He was in the GA Security dress uni-form, his ex pression somber, perhaps even sad. "Judge Zudan left word that you could l eave the courtroom by her door and the back corridors if you'd like to avo id the press."

Luke nodded. "Please."

"This way."

* * *

That evening, Luke called a conference of the Jedi Masters' Council.

"I'll keep this brief," he told them, "as I have a lot of preparations to make before tomorrow night, and in the interest of not drawing out an unpleasant e vent.

"First, I withdraw from my duties as Grand Master of the Jedi Order until s uch time as my sentence has been served, commuted, or struck down in the co urt. This is effective as of my departure from Coruscant."

Kyp Durron smiled. "For the first time in this whole mess, you've given me some hope."

Luke looked at him, curious. "How so?"

"You didn't resign as Grand Master. Clearly, you plan to come back and res ume your position."

"I do. I hope to. So while I'm gone, there will be no wild parties in the Ma sters' Chamber." It felt good to be able to make a joke, even a stale one. "

Second, I appoint Master Kenth Hamner as governing Master of the Order."

Hamner, a tall, fair-haired man with features that spoke of genera-tions of family wealth and rule, his posture military-perfect, offered Luke a wan smi le. "And I did not even have the opportunity to nego-tiate before sentence w as passed on me."

"Chief of State Daala and the military have faith in you." Luke gave him a s ympathetic look. "Your own fault for leading a lifetime of mili-tary experie nce."

"I will serve as best I can, Grand Master."

Master Octa Ramis, recovered from the minor injuries she had sus-tained d uring Valin's rampage, asked, "What are you going to do while you're gone

, Master Skywalker?"

"I plan to do what I negotiated with the Chief of State. To under-stand what brought Jacen to the dark side, and then set up protocols to anticipate the s ame thing happening in other Jedi. If we're lucky, this may also have some be aring on what has happened to Valin and Seff. I'll start by retracing, as muc h as I can, the travels Jacen under-took prior to the Killik crisis. I'm hopi ng that the answer lies some where along his journey."

Master Hamner placed his hands together and peered over them at Luke.

"Sinc e that is distinctly to the Jedi Order's benefit—even though you can't advi se us in any significant way until your sentence is concluded—and since the terms of your sentence do not come into ef-fect for another day, I feel no guilt in offering you whatever resources you need to accomplish your missi on. We just have to get them all transferred within a day."

"I'll be using Mara's yacht as my main transportation and home. So travel is not an issue. But operating funds are; I don't exactly have sav-ings."

Hamner nodded. "I'll set up an account for you. Not a drawing ac-count, as t hat would be proof of Jedi Order support after your sen-tence begins. A sum constituting forty-three standard years' of back pay, I think."

Luke smiled, amused. "And please, bank it out of some world that is not part of the Galactic Alliance, or likely to join it anytime soon."

"Consider it done. You'll have all the details in hand by breakfast."

"That's all I have to say." Luke looked among the Masters. Sadness threatene d to descend on him, to constrict his heart, but he kept it at bay by an act of will. "Any issues I need to address as Grand Master, you need to bring t o me as soon as possible."

Kyp Durron nodded. "We'll sort it out."

Cilghal was the first to rise. As she approached Luke, her action acted as a signal to the others, who all got to their feet. She enfolded Luke for a brief moment in her rubbery arms. "We will keep your home for your return,"

she told him. "May the Force be with you, al-ways and everywhere."

* * *

Walking with Luke back to their quarters, Ben said, "I'm going with you."

Luke managed another smile. "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Well, first, you're not a convicted felon and don't need to serve the sente nce of one. Second, no teenager I ever knew, myself included, could survive being in the constant company of a parent for ten years."

"I have you on a point of logic." Ben raised a finger, looking ridicu-lously like a Jedi Master addressing a roomful of younglings. "No teenager can rem ain one for ten years."

"Conceded. Still, Ben, I think you should stay here."

Ben's jaw set. Now, as was often the case whenever his tendency toward stu bbornness hit him, he truly resembled his mother. "You're my Master, I'm y our student."

"You're a full Jedi Knight now, even if there are plenty of places in the gal axy where you can't legally vote or drink. Surely you didn't for-get your pro motion. You only talked about it for two years."

"I wasn't that bad. And you're a rank above Master, so you should have a st udent a rank above apprentice."

"Interesting logic."

"Dad, this is my mission, too." Ben's voice was suddenly no longer that of a wheedling teen. "I was Jacen's apprentice. In the end, he tor-tured me, t ried to make me a Sith. He killed Mom. Do you think I'm going to be able to rest, ever, without understanding why?"

Luke fell silent as he considered Ben's words. Not speaking, they rode the t urbolift down to the upper residential level. As they reached their door, Lu ke came to a decision. "You're right. Pack up and make your farewells."

Ben sagged in relief. "Thank you, Dad."

* * *

The next morning, Luke reflected that one of the virtues of living as a Jedi was that packing was really easy. A lightsaber, a bag for a few changes of cl othes, his kit of tools, parts, and meters for maintaining his artificial han d, a datapad stuffed with data and popular literature, and not only was he pa cked but his quarters were almost empty as well. He looked around his bedcham ber and found it nearly bare; all that remained were shelf items, holos of hi s life with Mara, knick-knacks acquired during his years of travel or sent to him by admirers, a few articles of clothing he had decided to leave behind.

The thought that the room might remain empty, unchanged, for the entirety of his sentence—or that the room might be needed and reassigned, with the remainder of his things swept into a small bag and stored, scrubbing his p resence out of the Temple like one last stain— was depressing. He had to g o, and soon, and that fact alone was enough to make him want to stay.

His door chimed. He called, "Enter," and moved into the small liv-ing cham ber.

The main door slid open, revealing Cilghal. The Mon Cal Master nodded her r espects. She entered, allowing the door to shut behind her. "When not study ing Valin's test results, I have spent time in the last few days looking fo r references to odd behavior matching Valin's or Seff's. And I have found s omething." She tilted her head as if rec-ollecting, and her next words were in a different tone of voice; Luke suspected she was quoting. "Though I ha ve lived among humans for many years, some of the differences between our w ays choose not to fade into irrelevance. The electroencephaloscan, for exam ple, would be considered a grave and very personal intrusion by my kind. Fo rtunately, my order knows of a means to keep even it at bay. Unfor-tunately

, when utilizing it, we cannot demonstrate that we have func-tioning brains

."

Luke snorted, amused. "Who were you quoting?"

"Jedi Master Plo Koon."

Luke considered. Plo Koon had been a Jedi in the last years of the Old Repu blic—had died, in fact, about the time Luke was being born, one of the many victims of Emperor Palpatine's Order 66. He was a Kel Dor, a member of a s pecies that was not often seen out in the galaxy at large; they were not ox ygen breathers and had to wear spe-cial breathing masks when visiting most other inhabited worlds. "Why was that quotation so difficult to find?" With anyone else, he'd be wor-ried that his question sounded like a criticism, but Cilghal had no human neuroses that made her prone to interpret offhand remarks as complaint.

"It was not transcribed as searchable data in our archives. It was a recordi ng of an interview between Plo Koon and a Jedi Knight who was assembling a d ocumentary project on the species represented within the Order. He, too, was a victim of the purge, his project unfin-ished. I have been using automated vocal translation software against holorecorded materials, searching for a list of keywords related to Valin's situation, and this morning's pass flagg ed the word electroencephaloscan in this entry."

"Good work. Was there anything else useful in that interview?"

Cilghal twisted her body from side to side, a Mon Cal simulation of a human shaking of the head. "That appears to have been, for Plo Koon, a humorous aside, and the subject was not further explored."

"He said, 'My order knows of a means.' Who was he referring to? It couldn't have been the Jedi Order, since we've found no other ref-erence to the techn ique, and since he was talking to another Jedi . . ."

"He would have said our Order.'" Cilghal tilted her head. Familiar with her ways, Luke took it as a gesture of self-appreciation. Some human nuances of speech were still difficult for her, even after all her years among them.

"Yes." Luke pulled his datapad from his belt pouch and flipped it open. As he used it to access the Temple computer archives, he real-ized, with a pan g, that this might be the last time he would do so—for many years, or perha ps ever.

He scanned Plo Koon's service file. He knew many of its details al-ready.

His own studies had made him very familiar with the career of his own fi rst Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Obi-Wan's teachers and confidants; Obi-Wa n's Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, had been a close friend of Plo Koon. But Plo Ko on's record offered few leads. It mentioned no other order to which the l ong-dead Master might have belonged, though Luke knew there was one prosp ect more likely than any other.

Luke snapped the datapad shut. "I'm guessing he was referring to the Baran D
o Sages. He might have studied with them before joining the Order, which mea ns that's a trail eighty or a hundred years cold. I might as well make the s ages the first stop on my grand tour." He frowned. "There's no record of Jac en visiting them, but his travels are badly documented. I'm going to hope fo r the best. I just wish I had time to trace all of Valin's movements to see if he's had any contact with the sages."

"I have time. And I have access to the full Order archives."

"I couldn't ask you to do that. And as an exile, I'm not supposed to have acc ess to Order resources."

"You did not ask. I decide for whom I am a resource. And your sen-tence sai d you cannot advise, not that you cannot be advised."

Thrown off for a moment by Cilghal's resolute tone, her unhesitat-ing rejec tion of Galactic Alliance government wishes, Luke stepped forward and took one of Cilghal's broad hands between his own. "I sometimes forget, with our very orderly system of ranks and duties, that I have friends."

"You established this Order with logic, and you made your friends with you r heart. The Order acts according to your commands. Your friends act r heart. The Order acts according to your commands. Your friends act accor ding to your needs."

The door slid open, revealing Ben, dressed in his customary black, a cylindri cal bag in dark green on a strap over his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Luke shook his head. "You didn't. We were just finishing up some business.

Is the speeder ready?"

"It's ready."

"Then let's head down."

"Up."

Luke raised an eyebrow at his son. "I thought I said to get us a speeder and have it ready in the lower hangar."

"You did, but I got new orders in the meantime."

"From whom?"

"Master Hamner."

Luke sighed. Kenth could have waited until Luke was out of the building bef ore beginning to countermand his orders. "Let's go, then."

The turbolift took them up, and to Luke's surprise—for, engaged again in con versation with Cilghal, he had not paid attention to what Ben said into the turbolift's controller—opened at the Great Hall level.

The three of them stepped out into a crowded hall, and conversa-tion, which had been expectant in tone, died.

It looked as though every Jedi on Coruscant, and perhaps some currently st ationed in nearby star systems, was present, as well as many non-Jedi.

Som e faces were sad, a few even tear-streaked, and even among those maintaini ng a proper Jedi calm there was an atmosphere of sadness, of resignation.

Ben's next comment came as a dry whisper: "I don't think I've ever seen so m any brown robes together in one place. It's like a showroom for the world's dullest textile factory."

Luke repressed a snort. "Quiet."

Master Hamner approached, so Luke stepped forward, extending his hand.

"

Kenth, was this your idea?"

"Leia's, mine, every member of the Council's, and many others' besides.

Ma ny had messages, messages they'll deliver personally as you make your way to the front of the hall, but all of them had a message in common." Kenth put one arm across Luke's shoulders and turned him toward the distant main entrance, then gestured with his free hand across the expanse of Jedi Mas ters, Jedi Knights, apprentices, and friends. "Forty years ago, there was one practicing Jedi in all the galaxy, and the Order and the Temple were j ust ill-formed notions taken from suppressed rumors. Today, what you see b efore you—this is your doing, Master Skywalker."

Despite himself, Luke felt his throat trying to close. "Not alone." His words were just a touch hoarse.

Kenth nodded. "Not alone. But remove any other contributor from the process es and the end result looks only a little different. Re-move you, and it al l goes away, like a holodrama switched off in midscene." Gently, he took Lu ke's bag from his hand. Then he gave Luke a little push forward.

"I'll have this put in your speeder."

That was the signal for the others in the hall, who pressed forward singly o r in small groups, shaking Luke's hand, offering him embraces or kisses of f arewell, some of them with tears glistening on their cheeks. Ben, also relie ved of his bag, received these attentions as well, always present in the per iphery of Luke's awareness.

There were Kyp and Octa, Kam and Tionne, Saba Sebatyne in all her reptili an majesty, Kyle Katarn, the doubly sad Horn family, visitors such as Jag Fel and Talon Karrde. There was a who's who of the Red Squadron and Rogu e Squadron veterans Luke had flown with so many years before and since—We dge Antilles foremost among them. There were Jedi Knights and apprentices he barely knew, such a change from years before when he had personally t rained every member of the Jedi Order, a change both satisfying and a lit tle disquieting.

Leia, Han, and Jaina were among the last to intercept him, and held him the longest. "You'll be home soon," Leia told him, forcing a cheerful tone to co nceal the misery she was clearly feeling.

Luke smiled at her. "Define soon.""

She shook her head. "Informative answers are not the Jedi way."

"Hey." Ben, wrapped up in the embrace of his cousin Jaina, sounded miffed.

"You stole that line from me."

"I first said it twenty years before you were born. Before I was even a Jedi."

Han took Luke's hand and pulled him into a wampa-like hug. "You know, any where you are in the galaxy, give me a shout on the holocomm, or give Lei a a squawk through the Force, and the Falcon will be right there."

"I know. You'll take care of Artoo-Detoo for me while I'm gone?"

Han grinned. "Are you kidding? Having Artoo with us means See-Threepio on ly talks to us half as much. I should be paying you."

Jaina tucked herself under Luke's arm for the last few steps out of the Great Hall. "Daala's going to be sorry she did this."

Luke frowned at her. "That sounds suspiciously like a thought of revenge."

"It's not. I just know how things work. Inevitably some mess will arise that she can't solve, that no other Jedi can solve, and she'll know what a mistake she made."

"Be charitable." On the steps outside the hall, in the afternoon sun-light de scending in brilliant, steeply slanting shafts through the un-even cloud cove r overhead, Luke paused to give Jaina one last hug. "She's trying to do the b est she can for the Alliance, the only way she knows how."

"Well, she's not very bright."

"That's not 'charitable.' "

"Oh. I thought you meant 'honest.' "

* * *

The airspeeder that had been acquired for Luke and Ben's departure was not t he Grand Master's usual one or Ben's red speedster. It was a big white air b arge, a model with a built-in droid brain that would re-turn the vehicle to its home when its current users were done with it. Luke let Ben take the con trols for the trip out to the spaceport while he took in what might be his f inal view of Coruscant. In this late-afternoon hour, shadows in the canyons between mountain-high build-ings were already dark as night, the thousands u pon thousands of streams of airspeeder traffic were already putting on their nighttime cruising lights, and the sun, its lower edge peeking out below th e layer of clouds in the west, seemed larger and more orange than at any oth er time of day. He burned it all into his memory, knowing he would miss it.

They spent their trip to the spaceport in near silence until they moved out of the high-rise districts and into one of the traffic lanes heading into the ha ngar portion of the spaceport. "Think they'll turn us back?" asked Ben.

Luke gave him a curious look. "Why would they?"

"Because we nearly wrecked the place a few days ago."

"You exaggerate. The fight didn't even spill over into the secure zones."

"True."

Soon enough, they set down outside the hangar where Jade Shadow was ber thed.

Luke entered the lengthy access code in the security console beside the main d oors, then peered into its optic sensor to give it a retinal reading.

Finally the great doors slid aside, admitting a wash of stale air, allowing Luke to lo ok upon his dead wife's ship.

It had started its career as a Horizon-class star yacht from premier shipma kers SoroSuub, but had, over the years, been modified by Mara, family, and friends to become a combat vehicle that was fast and pow-erful for its size

. Low and broad in the beam, with sleek, curving lines, it had a top-mounte d airfoil that swept down toward both sides and ended in external ion engin e pods. Forward of those, outrigger-style plates stretched from the fuselag e and curved down to hold external weapons emplacements. The ship's organic lines gave it the appear-ance of some nautical shelled beast, and its nonr eflective gray surface made its name an apt one.

It did not suggest Mara's appearance so much as her manner when she was on the hunt. It was practical and implacable. It scarcely seemed the sort of ship to become home to a middle-aged widower and his teenage son, but it was what he had.

Luke remotely activated its loading ramp and life-support systems, letting i t open and expel stale atmosphere while he and Ben removed their possessions from the airspeeder. Luke gave the speeder's droid brain an all-clear order and it lifted off, accelerating away into the darkening sky, its shiny whit e coating making it visible for a consider-able distance.

shiny whit e coating making it visible for a consider-able distance.

It didn't take Luke and Ben long to complete a preflight check; the Jade Sha dow's self-diagnostics circuitry and software were first-rate, as were the S
kywalkers' technical skills. The engines had lost only a little stored power in the many months the yacht had sat unused. The vari-ous compartments with in the yacht were a little dusty but otherwise dean. Mara's personal craft, her Z95 Headhunter, an old but reliable predecessor to the X-wing, rested in its tiny launch bay; though it was smaller and slower than its more famous descendant, Mara's Z95, like her yacht, it had been modified and optimized t o within a centimeter of its life, and was a far more dangerous starfighter than others of its make and age.

While the preflight check was under way, a delivery speeder arrived. Its cr ew off-loaded two large crates full of supplies—fresh and preserved foods, water and bottled beverages, replacement battery packs and glow rods.

Ben s igned for the goods and set about loading them into the Shadow's storage lo ckers.

And then it was all done. They had no more reason, no additional excuse to wait. It was time to leave Coruscant.

Solemnly, Luke strapped into the pilot's seat, Ben into the co-pilot's. After a brief comm exchange with the spaceport's flight-control center, Luke eased the yacht out of its berth. Many meters from the hangar, out over open perma crete, he raised it on repulsors, then aimed it toward the stars and punched the thrusters.

The yacht's inertial compensators kept the acceleration from being a crushin g experience, but Luke raced upward fast enough to press the two of them far back into their cushioned seats. Behind, in the rear-facing holocam view, t he light glaring from Mara's hangar clicked off and its doors slowly rolled shut.

Moments later, they were up past the cloud layer and bound for the stars.

Chapter Eight

THINGS HAPPENED QUICKLY AFTER LUKE'S DEPARTURE.

Valin was released from Mon Mothma Memorial Medical Center and returned t o Jedi custody. Cilghal installed him in her own medical facility again, in a more secure chamber, and let him recover from sedation; though not a nxious to face the escape attempts she had every reason to believe would come, she knew that endless sedation would have a damaging effect on Vali n's health.

The bounty hunters were mentioned in newscasts, not as bounty hunters, but a s a special-missions force answering to the Office of the Chief of State, of ficially part of her security detail. Their names were not mentioned. Jaina, who had inherited Ben's task of assembling data on them, noted those detail s and copied that broadcast for her own reference.

The morning after Luke's departure, Master Hamner called a meeting of the Jedi Masters. He also invited several Jedi who were not Masters but who we re influential in the Order, including Leia and Jaina. They met in the Mas ters' Chamber, sitting among the circle of chairs once used by the old Jed i Council. Additional seating had been brought in for the assembly

—there w ere, in the face of the Unification Summit and Luke's farewell, more Maste rs on Coruscant than could be routinely accommodated.

Master Hamner began without preamble. "It seems clear that some of our recen t trouble, the public reaction that gave the government so much of its lever age in its action against the Grand Master, arises be-cause of the general p ublic's state of ignorance concerning the Jedi Order."

There was some nodding among the Masters at this statement.

"It is my intent to demystify the Jedi Order to the public as much as is rea sonable—without impairing our effectiveness.

"I'd like for one Master to volunteer to be the subject of documen-tary cov erage. That Master and his or her apprentice will be accompa-nied on an ass ignment or two by a documentary crew. The story they produce will be broadc ast with, I hope, the result of making the Jedi more sympathetic in the pub lic eye. Volunteers?"

No hand raised. Saba Sebatyne said, "Thiz one is perhapz too fero-cious for a documentary children will watch."

"I think perhaps you are correct, Master Sebatyne. No one? Ah, Master Ramis

. Thank you." Master Hamner consulted his datapad. "An independent producer has contacted us about his plan to create a holodrama about the Jedi. It s ounds like mindless, swashbuckling ad-venture, which ordinarily would stir me to some midpoint between ap-athy and contempt, but in our current situat ion I think it will work in our favor. I have denied his rather naive reque sts to consult our Archives and record certain sequences in the Temple—" Th ere were sighs of relief from among the Masters. "—but I have promised to p ut forth the request that a Jedi Master serve as technical consultant, and will give my permission to one who does. Here, too, do we have a vol-unteer

? I will not insist. . . Ah, Master Durron. You just won me fifty credits.

Thank you."

Sitting in one of the chamber's permanent chairs, Kam Solusar, ob-viously th e loser of the bet, scowled.

Now Master Hamner's manner became more grave. "Finally, we have some bad news to face. We have been informed by the Office of the Chief of State that, effective immediately, Jedi will be accompanied by government obs ervers."

Several Masters, as well as both the Solos, raised voices in protest. Leia sai d, "Are they trying to cripple our effectiveness?"

Hamner waved them down. "One observer will be assigned to each Master-appre ntice pairing, and one to each Jedi operating solo—my Master-appre ntice pairing, and one to each Jedi operating solo—my apologies, Leia, Jain a, I mean each Jedi operating unpartnered. Their stated objective is to act as a gentle reminder to their Jedi of Alliance and local laws. They will n ot have access to the secure areas of the Temple, but will otherwise be abl e to accompany their Jedi most of the time, particularly outside the Temple."

Kyp Durron heaved a sigh. "There goes my social life."

Jaina's expression was a fixed frown. "Please tell me that we're not going to do this."

Hamner shrugged. "Actually, we are. For the time being. But I have retained the firm of the Grand Master's advocate, Nawara Ven, to initiate a legal s uit, intended to strike down this government measure. Until we have some pr ogress there, though, we simply have to endure this inconvenience. Observer s will be assigned in stages over the next several days, Masters first, beg inning tomorrow."

As the assembly left the chamber, Jaina was still wearing her frown. "I'm t oo young to begin harping about the good old days."

Leia ruffled her daughter's hair. "You're getting there. Just wait, you'll be t alking about those blasted kids next."

"Mom ..."

* * *

SOLO FAMILY QUARTERS, CORUSCANT

'I say, Master Han, Mistress Leia, I am so terribly sorry."

Han opened one eye. Though he was being awakened before his alarm had gon e off, meaning it was too early by anyone's standards, he had not yet dec ided to shoot the tormenter awakening him, C-3PO, and therefore he did no t need both eyes yet.

Directly beside him was Leia, rousing just as reluctantly from sleep, her hai r a tangled mess splayed across her face and pillow.

Han's voice emerged as a hoarse rumble. "Where's my blaster?"

"Under your pillow, as usual." Leia's voice was almost as rough.

"Sir, no." C-3PO, standing by Leia's side of the bed, framed by the curtaine d viewport that, when bared, offered a vista of Coruscant aer-ial traffic an d skytower tops, waved awkwardly as if to placate Han. "You have a call from Master Calrissian."

Han rubbed between his eyes. "I'll listen to the message in the morning."

"Sir, it's a live holocomm transmission from offworld."

That got Han's attention. He sat up; Leia did as well.

Lando Calrissian was a rich man and a generous one, but he did not waste cr edits on stunts like holocomm calls just to show off his wealth. As far as Han knew, Lando was nowhere near Coruscant. This had to be important.

"Tell him we'll be right there."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. For not shooting me at this time of the morning, sir

."

Moments later, wrapped in white robes but not yet fortified by caf, Han and Leia seated themselves at their quarters' comm console and took the main dis play off hold. The picture snapped from grayness to full-color clarity.

Land o sat in a high-backed office seat, industrial gray walls and a closed door behind him.

Dark-skinned and well dressed—the image showed him wearing a maroon dress tunic and a black, sparkling hip cloak—Lando was, Han grudgingly admitte d, aging nearly as well as Han himself. His hair had thinned and receded a bit but remained dark, and his features, though more lined, were still handsome and elegant—and still ideally suited to wear expressions of suav e self-confidence or comic dismay.

Looking to one side as the picture went live, Lando snapped his at-tention back to the holoscreen and smiled. "Han! Leia! Good to see you. Oh—is it morning there?"

Leia, binding her hair back with an elastic band, glowered at him. "I'm not a gambler, but I'll bet a thousand credits that you knew ex-actly what time it was before you called."

"And I am a gambler, so I won't take that bet. You'd be right." Lando gave he r a look of apology. "I need help. Jedi help, I think, as well as friend help

. That adds up to you and Han. And about the hour, after the last. . . event, we decided that there was no time to waste."

"What sort of event?" Han turned to C-3PO, standing attentively off to the side, and mouthed the word caf. Then he turned back to Lando. "And who's we?"

"Nien Nunb and Tendra and me. Here, let me show you." Lando reached forwar d, his hands disappearing to either side of the picture view, as he eviden tly grabbed his monitor. He turned it, swinging its holocam view off him.

Han expected it to focus on Tendra, Lando's wife, or Nien Nunb, his Sullus tan manager, but instead it settled on a view of another gray wall, this o ne decorated with a holo of a shiny, skeletal YVH combat droid, which was manufactured by one of Lando's companies, Tendrando Arms.

But it was not the three-dimensional picture of the menacing droid that drew Han's attention. It was the jagged crack in the wall behind it, stretching fr om upper right to lower left, passing beyond the holocomm's field of view in either direction.

Leia snorted. "What caused that? A Hutt sat on your roof?"

Lando swung the monitor back to face him. "Quakes. Groundquakes, nasty ones

. They're increasing in strength and frequency, and the scientists I've bro ught in can't figure out why."

Han frowned. Nien Nunb was the manager of Lando's glitterstim spice min es, which strongly suggested where Lando must be now. "You're on Kessel

?"

Lando nodded. "I'm in the auxiliary comm center of my main of-fice buildi ng. The primary comm center was destroyed in the last quake."

Han grimaced. "Lando, let it go. Kessel is a doomed world." Kessel, an under sized planet near the Maw, was notorious for many things. It was the origin of glitterstim, a drug with just as many illegal applications as legal ones, and the source of a great deal of smuggling activity. Its spice mines were infamous, having been operated by con-vict labor for so long that, decades a fter the system had changed, "going to the spice mines of Kessel" was still a fate promised to chil-dren to convince them to behave.

The planet was also one of the marker points on the smuggler and race route that bore its name, the Kessel Run.

Over time, the low-gravity planet was bleeding atmosphere into space. Anci ent atmosphere generation plants increasingly struggled to keep up with th e loss, but they were gradually failing. The world would eventually become a lifeless environment.

Lando shook his head. "It's still a profitable operation, and the only source of glitterstim anywhere. Efforts to transplant colonies of the energy spiders that produce the stuff haven't been very successful."

Han sat upright. "You're trying to get them to survive on other planets?"

"Yes, but they just stop feeding and die—"

"Good!"

Lando waved his outburst away. "We need more time to work on the proble m. Lots more time."

Han repressed a shudder. Once, back in his smuggler days, before he'd ever met Luke or Leia, he had dumped a load of glitterstim rather than be caught with it by Imperial investigators, a decision that had re-sulted in him be ing hunted for years by hirelings of the spice's owner, Jabba the Hutt.

Muc h later, he had spent time in those mines, among the convicts, and had been one of the first to survive an attack by an energy spider and reveal the s pecies' existence to the galaxy. The expe-rience had left him with bad memo ries. "You do need a Jedi." He gave Lando a helpful nod.

"You need Kyp Durr on. He's a Master, he spent a lot more time in those mines than I did ..."

Lando mimicked his tone. "He's impossible to deal with, he hates Kessel more than you do, he's not my friend . . ."

"Of course we'll help," Leia said.

Han looked at her. "No, no, no. Wait until you've had some caf. Your reason ing centers will kick in—"

"Hush." She returned her attention to Lando. "We'll launch today."

Lando sighed, relieved. In his impossibly smooth and gracious manner, he s aid, "Bless you, Leia. And you, too, Han."

Han managed to keep his teeth from clenching. "Think nothing of it. We'll let you know when we're en route, old buddy." He switched off the holoco mm connection.

Then he turned to glare at his wife.

She gave him a look that was all innocence. "What?"

"Don't you have to clear things like this through the Temple before you rush off?"

"Theoretically, yes. But not this time. It's better to help a friend and take your punishment than be refused permission and not be able to help."

"All right, how about this: Kessel?"

"Innocent beings live on Kessel. Even the energy spiders don't de-serve to d ie just because they spooked you."

"Nothing spooks me."

"Then you won't mind going back."

"I do mind. Did you forget about Allana?"

From the way Leia froze, it was clear that she had forgotten Allana, perha ps only because Leia was sleep-fogged. Allana—known to every-one but Han a nd Leia as Amelia and never referred to by her real name except in the utm ost privacy—was the daughter of Jacen Solo and Tenel Ka, conceived before Jacen's recent efforts to gain mastery over the galaxy.

She was Han and Le ia's granddaughter, raised for her first five years by Tenel Ka, Queen Mot her of the Hapes Consortium. At the end of the war between the Alliance an d the Confederation, Tenel Ka falsely announced Allana's death to protect her from those who might kill her to gain the Hapan throne. Tenel Ka had s orrowfully given the care of her daughter to Han and Leia. The girl, now s even, lived these days under the guise of Amelia, adopted daughter of the Solos.

If Han and Leia raced off to Kessel, they'd have to take her along or leave her behind with near strangers. Allana's aunt Jaina was no stranger, but h er life as a Jedi was an active and dangerous one. Luke and Ben were gone.

There was no one else left whom they could en-trust with Allana.

"We take her with us." Leia's voice was decisive.

"Don't get mad at me to cover up the fact that you forgot." Han pointed an a ccusing finger at her. "We agreed to settle down—as much as possible

—for her sake. We agreed that we couldn't drag a lit-tle girl around the galaxy as w e stupidly try to fix other stupid people's stupid problems."

"That's just it." There was a note of desperation in Leia's voice. "We weren

't able to do anything for Luke. We can't do anything to stop the bureaucrat ic catastrophe that's descending on the Jedi Order right now. But we might b e able to help a friend."

Han considered. When she put it like that . . . he'd never regretted marryi ng a woman who could out-argue him on just about every issue, but he was of ten inconvenienced by it. "Of course, if we just take off this morning with out telling anyone where, you won't get as-signed your own government spy."

"Observer. And you're right. We wouldn't be accompanied by a nosy intrud er who inconveniences you as much as me."

"And Allana wouldn't have to put up with a stranger."

"Also correct."

"We already lose a lot of private time raising a little girl. Add a gov-ernmen t spy and we lose the rest."

Leia nodded, encouraging him to continue down that line of rea-soning.

"And it could be put off even longer if the Falcon's hyperdrive were to fai l somewhere out there—"

"It's happened before."

"Sabotage, always sabotage." He grinned at her. "You're going to be in su ch trouble with Kenth Hamner when you get back."

"That's what I keep you around for. To drag me into trouble."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say." Han leaned forward for a kiss.

"Master Han, your caf. Master Han? Mistress Leia? Oh, dear."

* * *

RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT NEAR THE JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

"How did you manage to get free of your Head of State dudes? And bodygua rds?" Jaina asked.

Jag leaned against the door frame where they'd just arrived. This was one ha llway of a residential high-rise; the passageway, its walls dec-orated with brown rhombuses against a tan background, spoke of a decorative style severa l years old, but was meticulously clean. Even now, a mouse droid affixed ato p a circular cleaning attachment was gliding down the hallway, buffing dirt up out of the carpet and send-ing a faint, sweet smell of cleanser into the air.

"Most of what my delegation does is negotiate insanely minute points." Jag looked as though he found that prospect about as attractive as a bowlful of worms. "I let my advisers and advocates do that, and at the end of the day I veto every decision they've made. Thus is the balance of power between r uler and bureaucrat maintained. In the meantime, I get to spend my day with you. And I tell my bodyguard that you're protecting me. That's where your ferocious Jedi reputation helps me."

Jaina shook her head. "The system is unimaginably broken." She pressed the button beside the door. Beyond the door, a chime faintly sounded.

"But fun," Jag said.

The door slid open but no one stood there. There was only a short green hall way beyond, a door open and brightly illuminated at the far end. Jaina caugh t the scent of freshly cut grass, if her nose did not de-ceive her. She gave Jag a quizzical look and preceded him in. The door slid shut behind them.

The hallway opened into a large chamber that had probably been intended as a living or family room. But where overhead glow rods would normally shine comfortably and placidly, there were brighter light fixtures, emitting, Jai na suspected, the exact frequencies of sun-light. Where comfortable, padded furniture should sit, instead rested weatherproof outdoor furnishings of l ight, foamed durasteel supports and colorful strapping

—there were chairs, l ounges, even a patio table with a large umbrella overhead. One picture view port, as tall as an adult human and twice as long, admitted light and a vie w of buildings fifty meters away, stretching upward and downward as far as the eye could see from Jaina's position; streams of airspeeder traffic at j ust the altitude of this apartment added a dash of fast-moving color.

Tahiri Veila, former Jedi, former Sith apprentice, stood up from a piece of lounging furniture as they entered. Blond and attractive, she wore a simple, tight-fitting jumpsuit in gray. She was, as usual, bare-foot. Her lightsabe r was not at hand but lay nearby, on the patio table. Her expression was jus t a touch uncertain. The scars on her forehead, earned during the Yuuzhan Vo ng War, were not visible; Jaina doubted that they could have faded in just t he few months since she had last seen Tahiri, so they were probably conceale d by makeup.

Tahiri nodded to them. "Jedi Solo, Colonel—I mean, Head of State Fel."

Jag spoke, his manner brusque: "Tahiti."

"Please, sit down. Can I get you anything? Caf, water—"

"No, thank you." Jaina took one of the lightweight chairs and sat facing Tahi ti; Jag did likewise. Tahiri settled again on her lounger.

Jaina gestured at the grass. "Please tell me that your refresher doesn't have a dirt floor."

That broke through Tahiti's discomfort and she grinned. "No, per-fectly norm al tile." She looked over her living green carpet. "I've al-ways preferred b eing barefoot to wearing shoes . . . but most places just aren't that comfor table. Overheated permacrete, carpets where they glare at you for tracking i n dirt . . . Now that I have some credits to spend, I decided I wanted a hom e where I could be comfortable. And this is much nicer than Tatooine desert sand."

"Now that you have credits and aren't living by anyone else's rules," Jaina amended.

"That's right."

Jag leaned forward. "We're here to ask you a few questions about Jacen Solo

."

Tahiti's uncertain look returned. "You really don't need to say Jacen Solo.

When his sister comes to talk to his former apprentice and Jacen is mentio ned, I'm not going to suppose you mean some Jacen who waits tables."

"Of course." Jag gave Jaina a pained look. "In informal circum-stances, I rea lly am redundant and stuffy, aren't I?"

Jaina nodded. "Yes, but you're pretty." She returned her attention to Tahiri

. "You've heard about the Grand Master and his sentence."

Tahiri nodded. "I heard about his farewell. I thought about going, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't be welcome."

"Not by everyone . .. We're trying to get a better handle on Jacen's though t processes. What made him turn. When he turned. It's all part of an effort to help the Grand Master—to help Uncle Luke—make his case for his return t o Coruscant."

"People have been trying to understand Jacen for two years." Tahiri shrugg ed as if the task were hopeless. "No, people have been trying to understan d him since we were apprentices. Since you two and Anakin were children to gether. They've been coming to me since he died. Jedi and government inves tigators and doctors and the press."

Jaina gave her a sympathetic look. "Any friends among them?"

Tahiri hesitated, then shook her head. "I'm not sure I have any friends. Not that I blame anyone for that. Anyone but Jacen and my-self."

Jaina resisted the urge to join in with Tahiri's critics and give the younger woman a verbal beating. It wouldn't help in this situation. "You're not like ly to make any, either, as a bounty hunter. You need to come back to the Orde r, Tahiri."

"Not until I know who I am. What I am." Tahiri smoothed an er-rant strand of blond hair back from her cheek. "I've been more things than I can count.

Ta tooine girl, adopted Tusken Raider, Jedi, Yuuzhan Vong hybrid, Sith apprenti ce, addict . . . I've got to get rid of all of them for a while. Learn how t o hear myself think,"

Jag nodded. "So think about Jacen. What have you figured out about him tha t you haven't told anyone? Details too subtle or seem-ingly inconsequentia l, information that nobody ever asked about."

"I can't tell you when he became a Sith." Tahiri's expression be came unfocus ed. "Only that it might not be important when he did, or even that he did. I think Sith was just another thing, another set of armor and weapons and disgu ises, that he put on top of Jacen. Like 'Jedi,' or 'Solo.'

He was always Jace n . . . until he rejected that, too, and became Caedus."

Jaina shook her head, not comprehending. "You're saying that it didn't mat ter when he became a Sith?"

"Something like that." Tahiri snapped back to the here and now. "I think i t matters more when Jacen broke. Maybe he broke when Vergere tortured him for all that time. Maybe he broke when he was a kid, when he and you and A nakin kept being handed off to nannies and protectors while your mother an d father were off doing other things." Tahiri raised a hand to forestall a biting response from Jaina. "I'm not criticizing. They were being pulled in too many directions at once, by too many responsibilities, and when tha t happens, something gives." She frowned, trying to puzzle something out.

"I think maybe he broke at some other time, whenever it was he decided tha t the galaxy was a huge, nasty place that had to be tamed. Whatever gave h im that idea, it made such an awful impression that he had to become even more awful to confront it."

Jag looked dubious. "You don't think Lumiya broke him."

"I think she shaped him." Now Tahiri looked vulnerable, far more open than when Jaina and Jag had first entered her presence. "I've been broken. I w as broken by the Yuuzhan Vong. I broke when Anakin died. And again when I learned that I could be with him again, in little moments. Every time you break, outside forces can shape you, and you can't do anything to stop the m. No, I don't think it matters when Jacen became a Sith. I think it matte rs when he broke."

Jaina and Jag exchanged a glance. Jaina said, "That's an interesting theory."

Tahiri managed a bitter little laugh. "Solo-speak for That's the stu-pidest thi ng I ye ever heard."

"No, I'm serious. I'll pass it on to the Grand Master. Right or wrong, it sug gests some avenues of investigation we haven't consid-ered."

"Oh." Mollified, Tahiri relaxed. "Thank you."

* * *

As they were departing, Jaina, seized by a sudden impulse, embraced Tahiri, something she had not done in years, and Tahiri held her in turn.

On the walk to the turbolift, Jag said, "I'm afraid I can't find a way to forgi ve her so readily. She assassinated a man I respected very highly."

Jaina nodded. "I had a lot of respect for Admiral Pellaeon, too. But who re ally killed him? The woman we just talked to, who's trying to find her way back from a very dark place, or the woman of two years ago?"

"One descends from the other. They're inextricably linked." Stop-ping befo re the turbolift, Jag pressed the button to summon the car. "Does someone shed all responsibility for what she's done when she suddenly decides it w as wrong?"

"Neither one of us has ever been broken the way she has." Jaina found her voice was unusually gentle. "Maybe we're too hardheaded or too stupid, or we've just never run into anything that could damage our core selves the w ay it happened to her. How do you know what we'd be capable of doing in he r situation?"

Jag thought about it and merely shrugged. "The Jedi have more faith in rede mption than I do. I'm not saying my way is best. Just that I'm not sure I c ould do what you do. Forgive something that mon-strous."

"I hope I never make a really big mistake in your presence, then."

Chapter Nine

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

AS A SENIOR JEDI KNIGHT—ONE WHO, IT WAS SAID, was under consideration for the rank of Master—Jaina warranted private quarters when staying i n the Temple. They were small and bare, but offered her more peace tha n the dormitories reserved for younger Jedi Knights and ap-prentices.

At her desk, she studied preliminary information assembled on her behalf ab out the Chief of State's bounty hunters.

The Quarren was almost certainly Dhidal Nyz, an inventor special-izing in imprisonment and capture technologies. He had made some of his fortune cap turing high-value fugitives, some from patents and military contracts.

The dark-haired woman had given her name as Zilaash Kul to both Luke and t he press. There was no mention of her in Jedi files, and she had no crimin al record. Holos that showed her lightsaber had been magnified and strenuo usly analyzed, only to reveal that its hilt seemed to have been modeled on that of Obi-Wan Kenobi's last lightsaber, the one the legendary Jedi had carried aboard the Death Star on his final mission—a weapon reasonably tho ught to have been lost when that asteroid-sized spacecraft had been destroyed.

The Skakoan was a known quantity. Hrym Mawaar was a bounty hunter with decades of experience, known for returning to his home system and spend ing years as an elected member of law enforcement between bouts as a bo unty hunter.

The YVH droid, fourth on Jaina's list, was the one who caused her the most concern. It was not a droid at all. Vrannin Vaxx, a human mercenary from Dorvalla, had distinguished himself during the Yuuzhan Vong War but had be en horribly burned and maimed during a personnel shuttle crash late in the war. He chose not to replace with prosthetics the two-thirds of his body that had been irreparably de-stroyed. Instead, his family, a wealthy minin g clan, had somehow acquired a black-market YVH 1 droid and had it repurpo sed as a cybernetic body for Vaxx. All that remained of his human self was packed into the droid torso.

Only because there wasn't as much room within Vaxx's carapace as there was in genuine YVH droids was he less formidably armed than a true Hunter dro id, and he more than made up for it with human expe-rience and ingenuity.

Jaina had received a report that he had survived Leia's laser attack on hi m and was already repaired and back on duty.

Jaina brought up the file of the next bounty hunter, the Rodian sniper, but her door chimed. Absently, she said, "Come."

The door hissed open and her brother Anakin, dead these sixteen years, walk ed in.

Jaina froze, a chill running down her spine. This wasn't Anakin as she remem bered him, sixteen and dressed in Jedi garments. He was older, fully adult, and taller, perhaps even a centimeter taller than Jacen had been. He wore st reet clothes in black and crimson and had a professional-quality holorecorde r on a strap around his neck.

He also wore Anakin's smile as he advanced on her, hand out-stretched.

"Jed i Solo."

"Uh." She stood and automatically took his hand. When their palms came tog ether she realized, with distracted embarrassment, that hers was sweating.

"You probably don't remember me. It's been more than fifteen years." He a bsently wiped his palm on his tunic. "My name is Dab Hantaq."

"Dab Hantaq." Some familiar element in the name kick-started Jaina's brain

. "I know that name."

"During the war, the Yuuzhan Vong War I mean, I was kidnapped by Senat or Viqi Shesh—"

Jaina sagged just a little in relief, the mystery solved. "—and you were used in her plot to try to kidnap my cousin Ben."

"That's right. You might remember me better as Tarc, the name she gave me

."

"Right, right, little Tarc." Jaina sat and made an effort to reassem-ble her sh attered Jedi calm. "Have a seat."

Dab glanced around. There was no other chair. He smiled again. "I'll stand, thanks."

"What can I—what arc you—"

"I've been assigned to you." From his belt, he unclipped a small identificati on folder and opened it. On the left side was the circular shield of an Allia nce marshal. On the right was an identicard with a halo of his face, name, an d vital statistics. "I'm really a documentarian, but also a licensed investig ator because that helps, and there was just a mad hiring scramble for people with certain skill sets and any experi-ence with the Jedi—"

"You're my observer?"

He nodded and reattached the identity folder to his belt. "The whole Allia nce marshal thing is a matter of convenience, really. They gave it to me s o I could bully my way through all sorts of obstacles when following you a round. I'm really more about capturing the moment—"

"This will never work. Never, never."

He gave her a look of sympathy. "Because of my resemblance to your brother.

I knew when your name came up for me in the random rotation that it was go ing to create trouble. Since it's going to cause you distress, I'll have my self put back in the pool."

"Yes. I mean, no. I didn't mean it would cause me distress." She damped dow n on herself, uneasily aware that it had already caused her much more distr ess than she would ever admit. "I meant, this whole observer tiling will ne ver work. In general."

"Oh." He fingered the holorecorder on the strap. "Would you let me record a reaction from you on this whole observer program, some-thing expressin g your thoughts?"

"No! That's not part of your observer role, is it?"

"Well, no."

"You aren't recording anything for personal or professional use, are you? E
verything you record has to be turned over to the government, right?"

"Uh, sure."

She glowered at him. "Look, I'm in the middle of some record keeping here

.

.."

"I understand. Master Hamner has set up a waiting room for us observers in a chamber off the Great Hall. The old youngling lecture hall, he called it.

Did he mean old younglings, or old hall? Never mind. I'll be there. You ne ed to check in with me if yon decide to leave the Temple so I can accompany you. And I have to check in with you at intervals to make sure you haven't

, you know, wandered off. Sorry."

Stunned, she just nodded. Dab waited a few moments to make sure no further words were going to issue forth, then retreated. The door slid closed behin d him, leaving Jaina in merciful silence.

Until she spoke again. "Random rotation, my eye. This is some-body's idea of a joke, and whoever it is will find himself dumped in a garbage compact or."

* * *

RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT NEAR THE JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

Tahiri hit the button to open her apartment door. It slid aside, reveal-ing a tall, very old man standing outside. His hair was white and thin, his eyes a surprisingly clear blue. He wore a loose white tunic belted at the waist, al ong with black trousers and boots. Oddly, although his left arm was prostheti c, no attempt had been made to disguise the fact; it was an ancient replaceme nt, three-quarters of a century old at least, distinctly mechanical despite i ts graceful, human lines. It was the color of brushed durasteel from the fing ertips to where the white sleeve cov-ered it.

He gave Tahiri a brief, cordial smile. "Tahiri Veila?"

"Yes."

"I'm Commander Trinnolt Makken, Imperial Navy, retired. I'm your govern ment-appointed observer."

She laughed. Then she thumbed the door closed.

The bell chimed again, and she could hear the commander's muf-fled voice. "T
his is not a joke. I have legal identification."

She opened the door again. "I heard from friends, I mean contacts, about th is observer thing. Commander, I'm not a Jedi."

"It applies to Sith, too, when they can be identified."

"I'm not a Sith, either."

He held up a datacard with his flesh-and-blood hand. "Regardless, your nam e is on the document."

She glanced at the card. It rose up a couple of centimeters into the air. It s trained as if struggling, then snapped in two. The pieces dropped into his pal m.

She fixed him with a look that was no longer friendly. "Not Jedi," she expl ained, as if to someone who spoke only a few words of Basic. "Not Sith.

Do you fly? Thrusters from metal arm, thrusters from nos-trils?"

Grim, he shook his head.

"Then don't come back until you do, because you may find your-self dropping two hundred stories out a viewport." She slid the door shut.

This time, the commander did not activate the chime.

* * *

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

Jaina and Master Hamner encountered each other outside the Mas-ters'

Cha mber. They both frowned.

"Have you seen my new observer?" Jaina asked.

"Can you tell me where your mother is?"

"Come down to the old youngling lecture hall, which he seems to think is a schoolroom for old younglings."

Master Hamner fell into step beside her. "Is that where your mother is?"

"No, that's where he is," Jaina said. "And you know, he's not to blame."

"Perhaps you know where your father is, and could tell me, and he would k now where your mother is."

"He's not to blame for looking like my brother Anakin."

"Your father? Of course he's to blame for looking like your brother. I would have thought it would relieve him. It does, most fa-thers."

"Master Hamner, please concentrate. Having an observer who looks like my bro ther can't be a coincidence. It's a cruel joke or an insult, and if my mothe r and father see him, it's going to make them feel very bad."

"Ah. Excellent. Where might your mother and father be, that they might see him?"

They came to a stop at the doorway of the former youngling lec-ture hall.

The doorway was double-wide and open. Inside, the cham-ber was mostly unoc cupied; round tables had replaced some of the old side-by-side lecture sea ting. At some of the tables were men and women, many of them older and ex-military by the look of them, the others a mix of ages, all of them appare ntly very fit.

She pointed to her new observer, who sat with two others, eating a salad and talking. "That one. Tarc."

Master Hamner looked and tilted his head. "He does look like Anakin Solo."

"So you think it's a coincidence?"

"You'd have to ask your father about that, too."

"No, no, that he was assigned to me."

"Oh." He shrugged. "Really, I couldn't tell. The assignments are handled out of the Chief of State's office."

"Well, I want him swapped out for someone else."

"Then you shall have to contact the Chief of State's office. I am cer-tain sh e will be receptive to the suggestion. The Jedi are among her fa-vorite peopl e."

Jaina bristled. "Do you have any dead relatives you'd like to be fol-lowed a round by?"

He took her arm and led her away from the door at a sedate pace. "You know

, you have your mother's mouth. By which I do not mean that the configurat ion of your chin and lips resemble hers, though they do at certain angles, but that the things that come leaping out of your mouth

—words, invective, insults—have a distinctive Organa family flavor to them."

"Thank you. What were you asking about Mom?"

"Where she is."

"At home, I suspect."

Hamner shook his head. "It appears that the Millennium Falcon took off for space at just past dawn this morning, with your father, your mother, and yo ur adopted sister aboard."

"Oh. Well, perhaps they wanted to take Amelia out for a field trip."

"Into space."

"Pretty normal for my family."

"The comm recorder at their quarters, responding to my code, said to make r equests for direct contact to the office of Lando Calrissian, Tendrando Arm s."

"Well, there's your answer."

"And the office of Tendrando Arms says they do not know where Lando Calri ssian is, but they will pass the message along. So I was wondering if you had any other means to get in touch with your mother, any back-door meth od."

"No, I'm afraid not." That was a bald lie, but one she had practiced so wel l and for so many years that she doubted Master Hamner would be able to det ect the deception in the Force.

He seemed satisfied. "Very well."

"I apologize, Master Hamner. Parents like mine, they stay out all hours, the y never tell you where they're going, they keep secrets . . . They're making me old before my time."

The Master blinked, and Jaina sensed that, somewhere deep beneath his Jedi c alm, he was resisting the urge to throttle her. But all he said was,

"Very l ike your mother."

"I need to go off and contact the Chief of State's office. Can I help you with anything else?"

"No, thank you, I've had all the help I can endure."

Chapter Ten

KESSEL

Even from a high altitude, it was clear that Lando's Kessel mineworks had changed substantially in the decades since Han had been an involuntary wor ker within them—before Lando had owned them. When he and Chewbacca had bee n captured and pressed into service here, the main mine entrance had been a huge open pit sur-rounded by broad salt plains and a few administrative buildings. Now the pit was covered, a low, square gray building in place o ver it, and the buildings immediately around it were far more numerous— th ough no more attractive; Lando's personal sense of style had clearly been no influence in the motley collection of prefabricated gray, off-white, an d tan enclosures.

A couple of the larger buildings and several of the smaller ones now lay in ruined heaps, testimony to the power of recent groundquakes in the area.

Following Lando's navigational beacon, Han found himself staring at a Falcon

-sized circle of a bare white salt plain surrounded by irregular chunks of b rown synthstone probably scavenged from some of the felled buildings. He set down with the speed of confidence, absently adjusting the length of the Fal con's landing gear extensions so that the transport would be perfectly level on the irregular ground. Adjusting thrusters and repulsors to zero, allowin g the Falcon to settle fully onto her landing gear, he smiled—he might be on Kessel again, but at least his landing had been perfect.

Beside him, sitting on Leia's lap on the copilot's seat, Allana asked, "When c an I do it?"

"Do what? A landing?"

She nodded, wide-eyed. "Uh-huh."

"When I think my heart will survive the experience." Han gave Leia a look as if to say, Or maybe I'll be lucky and die before then.

Leia gave him a smile that was part amused malice. She looked down at her granddaughter. "Soon, I think he means."

By the time Han got the boarding ramp lowered, Lando and Nien Nunb were at its base, waiting, wearing the breath masks required to survive Kessel's th in atmosphere for more than a few minutes. Nunb, Lando's manager in this en terprise, was Sullustan, with a head that looked oddly as though it had set tled in melted layers upon his shoulders; unlike most of his species, he wa s only slightly shorter and rounder than the average adult human.

Lando sprang up onto the ramp with the vigor of a man half his age. "Han!

You made great time."

Han gave him a quick embrace. "We were chased off Coruscant by bureaucra cy. You were the lesser of two evils."

"I usually am." Lando offered one of his rakish smiles, obviously pleased s till to be considered a bad influence. "C'mon inside. Tendra and Chance are there." He glanced up at the top of the ramp. "Hey, Artoo! Long time."

* * *

The conference room was laid out with a light lunch and drinks. The chamber did not seem as though it belonged on this dingy, slowly dying world; the oval table in the center was topped with the finest blue-white marble, the chairs were covered in flawless dark leather, and the whole atmosphere conv eyed a sense of doing business in the heights of Coruscant's business distr ict.

But the oversized display viewport in the longest wall showed the unpromisi ng grounds of the mineworks, powdery, sterile whiteness from which nothing could grow. In the near distance was the parked Falcon. Farther away was a dark building with featureless brown walls; every few minutes, a gout of ga s erupted from it, sending much-needed oxygen and nitrogen a gout of ga s erupted from it, sending much-needed oxygen and nitrogen into the unhealt hy-looking pink sky. In the far distance on artificial slopes was a buildin g of tremendous size, gray and tan, its outer walls steeply slanted backwar d with rows of gleaming durasteel and transparisteel; that, Han knew, was t he old Im-perial Correctional Facility, the prison from which the former ma sters of Kessel had drawn the workers for the mines.

Han, Leia, Lando, Tendra, and Nien Nunb sat at the table. In an adjoining chamber, the door left open so sound would carry, Allana and Chance play ed in the company of the droids—not just C-3PO and R2-D2 but also the lit tle boy's nanny droid. The four-armed automa-ton with its round, beaming face and almost-human female voice looked identical to Nanna, the ferocio us defensive droid fabricated from a nanny droid and a YVH 1 combat droid to nurse and protect Ben Skywalker in his early years; Leia idly wondere d if this was the same one.

Tendra, Lando's wife—a lean woman, dark-haired, many years the junior of he r husband—was dressed in a pearlescent blue jacket-like top that suggested a world of distant sands and arena duels between animals and men. The blous e beneath it was an iridescent gray, and her long skirt alternated layers o f those two colors. Tendra waited until the catching-up chitchat had comple tely died away before getting to busi-ness. "I guess I ought to offer some context."

Han nodded ruefully as he ate a strip of grilled bantha steak from a skewer

. "That's definitely the businesswoman's approach. Do you have a printed ag enda to give us?"

She smiled. "Quiet, you. Lando has owned these mines for about thirty years now. I bought in when we married. Nien Nunb, who man-ages the facility, an d very well, I might add, gradually acquired shares as part of his contract

. The three of us own the business outright."

Leia nodded. "And since Kessel's government basically consists of whatever t he major business owners want it to be, there's no one to bail you out if di saster wrecks the business."

Lando looked unhappy. "That's right. And while on the one hand the only thin g we stand to lose is money, it's a lot of money. And on the other hand, if this business becomes unviable, for us or anyone else, the amount of glitter stim available in the galaxy drops to zero. All the legitimate medical uses of the drug go away."

Nien Nunb spoke in the rapid, singsong language of his people; he understood Basic, but had a hard time articulating it.

Lando translated: "And, yeah, there'll be a negative reaction on the illicit s ide of things. Glitbiters, glitterstim addicts, will cause a lot of trouble as they fight over the last remaining stores, and there will be a scramble for a new drug to appease them. They'll probably end up with more dangerous ones, l ike one of the synthetic ryll replace-ments."

Finished with his skewer, Han set it down. "I thought Kessel was just a rock

. An ugly, cold rock shaped like a ground tuber, spinning peacefully through space. No tectonic or volcanic activity at all."

"It is." Lando frowned.

"That's what we thought, too, until the quakes started," Tendra said. "This was about two standard years ago, at the height of the war. Actually, I re member exactly when. I got Nien Nunb's report about the first quake the sam e day the news broke about the destruction of Centerpoint Station.

The firs t few quakes were very minor, but they've gotten worse over time.

The scien tists don't know what's causing them, so they can't make any useful predict ions, but they have no rea-son to believe they won't continue to worsen unt il they wreck every-thing, collapsing all the mines and destroying the atmo sphere plants, which would make the planet uninhabitable."

Nien Nunb spoke again. Lando said, "Yeah, I left that out. Sorry." He retur ned his attention to the Solos. "He's reminding me that the seismologists w e brought in detected a system of natural caverns, really big ones, much de eper than our mineworks. Seismic scanners have detected them, and also reve aled that some have collapsed between readings, which may be part of the wh ole disaster."

"Why are there caverns in the first place?" Leia asked.

Lando looked confused by the change of subject. "Huh?"

"Caverns are usually caused by water moving through soft rock, eroding pock ets out of it, correct?"

"I guess."

Han grinned at Lando. "Science hurts, doesn't it, pal?"

"Economics is my science."

Leia continued, "But Kessel has never had that kind of water."

Lando shrugged. "Maybe the energy spiders dug them. To have a place to spi n their webs where light wouldn't hit them."

Leia gave him a scornful look. "You're saying the spiders evolved on the su rface with photoreactive webs then, figuring out that light destroyed their webs, dug out elaborate cavern systems to live in and waited for prey spec ies to begin wandering down there to be eaten?" She shook her head. "The ph otoreactive nature of the webs is clearly a later adaptation, something tha t happened once they'd been down in the caverns for thousands or millions o f years."

Lando held up his hands, signifying surrender. "I don't know."

"Lando, there arc too many mysteries on Kessel. I spent my time on the tri p here doing research. You have tombs on the surface no qualified archaeol ogist has ever opened. You have avian creatures the size of humans on the surface who have a weird attachment to those ruins. You have caverns that shouldn't exist and groundquakes that can't happen.

You've brought us here to solve your problem, but I think it would be half solved already if you

'd put some money into answering those questions years ago."

During Leia's rant, Lando gradually hunched down, comically drawing his hea d closer to his shoulders like a shelled marine reptile trying to withdraw for defense. "Not many of the avians around any-more," he said. "They're a dying species."

"Which is all right with you, because they don't bring any money into the c ompany."

Lando cast imploring eyes on his wife. "Help."

Tendra smiled at him. "Sorry, darling. You're on your own."

"Oh." Lando straightened, resuming a normal pose. He turned to Nien Nunb. "

All right. We need a complete archaeological team here to investigate the t ombs. Not big, but fully funded for at least one Galactic Standard year, wi th a tentative extension of two more years if we like their work. We also n eed a complete xenobiology lab setup and team here, same terms, to study in digenous life-forms other than the energy spiders. Roll the expenses into o ur losses from the interruption of mining operations." Finished, he looked expectantly at Leia.

She nodded, mollified.

Han snorted. "Well surrendered, General. So lay it out on the table. What e xactly do you want from us?"

"I'd like you to go down there. Use your skills and Leia's Jedi abil-ities to figure out what the scientific teams I've sent down haven't been able to.

Figu re out why this is happening."

Han had suspected this would be the request, but foreknowledge didn't keep i t from turning his stomach sour. To go into those tunnels again . . .

Yet La ndo was his friend, a friend in need, a friend who had helped them in very b ad times. He glanced at Leia, saw her nod. "Yeah, sure." He hoped his voice didn't sound as ungracious as he felt.

"Great," Lando said. "So . . . what do you need?"

"A vehicle," Han said. "Very small, no bigger than your repulsorlift mine cars, so we can navigate wherever they go. Packed with sen-sors. Active, p assive, as broad a range as possible. And weapons. No energy weapons

—I'm t alking fragmentation explosives, slug-throwers, whatever you can manage, s ince the energy spiders can gobble up pretty much any energy output from h andheld or small vehicle weap-ons. Hand weapons, too, in case Leia gets it in her head that she needs to step out of the vehicle."

"Done," Lando said.

"When can you have it ready?"

"It's waiting at the mine main entrance." At Han's upraised eye-brows, Lan do smiled. "I know your ways, old buddy."

"I guess you do."

"Can I go?" That was Allana, standing at the doorway to the other room

—just on the other side of it, half concealed by the doorjamb.

Han and Leia exchanged a look. Leia turned her attention to Al-lana. "Were you listening at the door?"

Allana hesitated, then nodded. She stepped forward, her move-ment tentative.

"Threepio started telling a story and I got sleepy, but I didn't want to na p so I moved to where I could listen to you, because you're more interesting

."

"I'm sorry, sweetie." Han gave Allana a look that he hoped was both affection ate and sternly parental. "It's dangerous. No place for a little girl.

You'll need to stay with Threepio and Artoo and Chance."

"I'd rather be with you."

"I know, Amelia. But it's not going to happen this time. On a mis-sion, some times people serve best by remaining where others know they're safe.

That's a contribution, too." Han turned back to the oth-ers, and the amused, knowin g looks on all their faces eloquently said, Not that anyone is ever willing to do that.

* * *

The vehicle Lando had prepared, resting on the white, dusty soil in front of the mine entrance building, had apparently started its exis-tence as an airsp eeder; it had the same low, rectangular frame with a central passenger compar tment that was ubiquitous to that class of ve-hicle.

But this was a hard-top model, and emerging from the center of the roof was a small turret. Protruding from that were twin barrels, one no wider in di ameter than Han's thumb, one wide enough nearly to fit his fist. He recogni zed them as a slugthrowing blaster and a grenade launcher, ancient designs seldom seen toward the galactic Core but more prevalent in Outer Rim worlds and less-developed planets. The turret looked like a recent patch job; the re were signs of new welding around it and the turret, a dull metallic gray

, had not been painted tan like the rest of the vehicle. On the metal surfa ces over the engine com-partment and cargo compartment were other recent ad ditions, blue transparisteel bubbles that housed sensor equipment; they wer e on patches of metal where paint had been burned away and leads punched th rough so wiring and connectors could pass from the sensors into the vehicle

's interior.

Han experimentally rapped on the speeder's frame and viewports with his kn uckles. Both areas returned reassuringly deep thumps.

"Armored?" Leia asked.

Tendra nodded. "Used to be a speeder for shuttling visiting digni-taries betw een the prison and the landing field. It's old but sturdy. Sort of like Lando

." She winked in her husband's direction.

Lando shot her a dirty look but addressed Han instead. "The grenade launcher has two modes—two sorts of ammunition. The switch is on the weapons-control yoke. One mode is fragmentation ex-plosives, very nasty.

Be at least fifty meters away from one of those when it goes off, even if you're inside the ve hicle. The other is a decoy we came up with for dealing with the spiders in a nonviolent way. Fires a flying drone with a very powerful heat package in it, gives off an en-ergy signature brighter than a squad of miners. It autom atically steers to avoid walls and has a flight duration of about a minute.

Fire it off, let the spider chase after it, and go the other way."

"Well, it's no Falcon,'" Han said. "But it'll have to do."

Inside, piled on the rear seat, were thermal suits, infrared goggles, spare breath masks with numerous replacement oxygen canisters and batteries, extra energy packs for the thermal suits, cases of food and water, and backpack w eapons firing ammunition similar to the vehi-cle's turret systems.

Han caught Lando's eye. "How long do you actually expect us to stay down there?"

"As long as you want or need to. I actually packed the vehicle for myself. O
ver the last couple of weeks, Nien, Tendra, and I have all taken her down th ere, looking for a cause for the trouble and planting sensors for the seismo logists. With no luck."

"Fair enough." Han took a deep breath, trying to dispel memories of the desp erate flight he, Chewbacca, and Kyp Durron had taken through those shafts an d tunnels more than thirty years before. It didn't help. "Let's go."

* * *

Clad in thermal suits—pallid yellow jumpsuits of a slick, heat-retentive c loth, further warmed by a network of tubes laced through the sur-face

—and breath masks, Han and Leia boarded the speeder, Han at the controls. In mo ments, the passenger compartment pressurized and they could remove their b reath masks. They gave one last wave to the Calrissians and Nien Nunb; the n Han started the vehicle's motiva-tors and set it into forward motion.

Ahead was the building surrounding the main mine entrance. Han followed its old rail tracks to the door, which obligingly rolled open before them. Onc e through, Han activated the speeder's external lights.

They illuminated a vast single chamber, its ceiling crisscrossed with metal beams with mobile winches hanging from them. There was no floor, just a crat er, a gigantic bowl cut out of the gray-white stone, vanishing into darkness at its deepest point, the exact center. The rail tracks led straight down t he hole.

His shoulders riding up and going rigid with tension, Han followed the rai ls.

In moments, the angled bowl dropped out from beneath them and they des cended on repulsors alone down a vertical shaft that seemed endless.

Chapter Eleven

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

AS KENTH HAMNER SETTLED MORE AND MORE INTO THE ROLE of interim Maste r of the Jedi Order, he began rearranging things to suit himself, to increase his comfort and efficiency in the position.

For example, morning briefings. Each day after breakfast was served and con sumed, he stood in the Great Hall and allowed the Jedi to gather so he coul d catch them up on all the news he felt he could distribute. Perhaps sendin g files to all their datapads would have been more efficient, but he liked to see reactions and get immediate responses. Of course, the observers now stood among the Jedi, an odd contrast in their mix of dress

—some civilian, some in day wear com-fortably resembling their old military uniforms, some in the current uniforms of Galactic Alliance Security or Intelligence divis ions.

This day, Master Hamner began, "As you may have heard on this morning's Hol oNet News broadcast, there are rumors that the government is preparing a c ase against Jedi Valin Horn for criminal actions and damages caused by rece nt events. We will, of course, resist these proceedings, as it is clear tha t Jedi Horn was, and remains, of di-minished capacity. Both the government and the Jedi Order agree that qualified analysts of mental disorders must b e allowed to examine Jedi Horn to evaluate the relevance of his mental stat e; we are in the process of deciding on specialists agreeable to both sides."

He consulted his datapad, then looked around, his manner more stern. "On ano ther matter, I will not single out anyone for direct dis-approbation, but it is clear that some of the Jedi Knights have been indulging in behavior that makes it more difficult for their observers to do their jobs. Though the Or der approves of passive resistance in circumstances of civic unrest, it is n ot appropriate for Jedi themselves to perform passive resistance against rul es agreed to by the Order it-self. This will be my last warning unaccompanie d by corrective mea-sures.

"Speaking of observers, former Jedi Tahiri Veila has flatly refused to allo w her observer to accompany her. Veila's unusual legal status makes her opp osition to the government regulation an interesting one, and the Temple's o wn lead counsel has accepted her case as she and the government countersue each other.

"Master Sebatyne, Jedi Sarkin, Jedi Tekli, please report to me for new assign ments. That is all."

As the assembly broke up, Jaina ducked around a column, the bet-ter to rema in unseen by her observer, and made her way stealthily to a back set of sta irs. Moments later, she was two levels down and enter-ing a conference room little-used because of its low ceiling and uninvitingly dark wall color.

Jag, inside, waited until the door was sealed behind her before taking her in his arms. "You've shaken your pursuit."

"He's so . . . friendly. It would be a shame to kill him." It was a joke, but even in jest, the notion of cutting down Dab, who so resem-bled her brother Anakin, of killing in a sense a second brother, sent a shudder through her. "

This has got to end."

"The sneaking around?"

"Oh, I'm fine with the sneaking around." She smiled, her humor restored.

"Bu t to actually be followed while I'm sneaking around, I hate it."

"You could always resign from the Order, come away with me to the Empire, and set up that rival Jedi school."

"Stop saying that. It's beginning to tempt me." She spoke in a more serious t one. "Jag, I'm the Sword of the Jedi. I'm the defender of this Order, not of some rival Order, some start-up school. My fate is here."

"Your fate was that you would live a restless life and never know peace. Ho w can you accept that for yourself?"

"What if I didn't? What if I had rejected it, retired as a Jedi, decided to e njoy myself after the Dark Nest mess? I'd have been off on a vaca-tion world when Jacen became the force he turned into. What if I was the only thing that could stop him, and I never did?"

"It didn't happen that way."

"No, but the next one might. If I just shed my responsibilities and run of f to the Remnant to play schoolteacher, what happens when the Sword is nee ded next?" Something occurred to her. "You want to spend more time with me

? Over the years, instead of just the next few days or weeks?"

"You know I do."

"Then resign as the Head of State of the Empire. There are plenty of men an d women eager to take that position."

He was silent a long moment. "I . . . can't."

"Because it's your responsibility"

His "Yes" was almost inaudible.

"So don't try to convince me to abandon mine."

"All right."

"We'll try to make this work. If we can't. . . well, at least we'll have this time

."

He leaned down to kiss her, but her comlink beeped, a distinctive pattern of two-then-two tones. Jaina sagged and she let her forehead thud down into hi s chest.

"What is it?"

"Dab. The observers all have to run checks on their Jedi twice a day, at ran dom times, to make sure we're where we're supposed to be. I have to run upst airs and show him I'm still here."

"I could kill him for you."

"I said it before—don't tempt me."

* * *

ABOARD JADE SHADOW. DORIN SPACE

Ben decided that Dorin was just about the ugliest inhabited planet he could remember, and he had seen quite a lot of them. It was also one of the strang est star systems in his experience. Even after having read up on it in advan ce of arrival, he found that foreknowledge did not re-duce the effect of see ing the system through Jade Shadow's viewports.

The Dorin sun was a small, orange thing, and it was situated di-rectly betwe en two large and proximate black holes. The net effect, looking at the syste m from a stopping point less than a light-year away, was of seeing a dim and distant light illuminating a precarious path with bottomless cliffs on eith er side. Except Ben, smoothing down the hair on the back of his neck, did no t perceive the black holes as dan-gerous drops, but as lifeless eyes staring at him. "Kind of gets to you, doesn't it?"

His father looked up from the task of inputting the last hyperspace jump.

Calculations here had to be very precise. Situated between two such powerf ul gravity wells, the Dorin system was very complex, and any mathematical error was even more likely than usual to endanger a ship.

Luke nodded. "Black holes are an interesting astronomical phe-nomenon to sci entists, and a vaguely unsettling image for most other people . . . but Forc e-users and Force-sensitives have a real dislike or dread of them."

"Why?"

His father shrugged. "The Force derives from life. Even death is not all that disturbing to a Force-user, since it is a part, a necessary consequence, of life. Black holes are something else. A cessation out-side of life. Maybe the way they draw in all energy and trap it forever runs against our instincts.

I'm not sure. I do know that the Force-sensitive children we hid at Shelter d uring the Yuuzhan Vong War did not like being in the Maw, surrounded on all s ides by black holes. You're too young to remember, but the Jedi caretakers at Shelter said there was a lot of crying."

"Did I do a lot of crying?"

"I don't think so. You were pretty much shut off from the Force in those days

."

"Well, good."

Luke grinned and returned his attention to his calculations. "Ready to jump in ten seconds . . . five, four ..."

When space untwisted around them, they were well within the Dorin system.

The sun ahead was bigger but no more cheerful, and its dull hue seemed alm ost dirty. Ben could see stars above and below the sun, but looking rightw ard and leftward through the yacht's ports, there was nothingness, no welc oming gleam of stars. He suppressed a shudder.

It took a few minutes for Luke to raise Dorin starship control on the comm.

T
he distant officer spoke Basic with an odd, slightly muffled accent, but she rapidly authorized Luke to land his craft at the spaceport in the capital cit y of Dor'shan and assured him that replacement air bottles for his breath mas ks were readily available for purchase.

As Dorin grew in the forward viewport, it became no more appealing to Ben.

Dark and mottled, it had a gloomy aspect to it. Rut he reached out with the Force and felt no such emotion emanating from it. In fact, it was as alive as any low-population world he had visited, and far cheerier under the sur face than the malevolent Ziost. He re-laxed. Dorin was not a place of hidde n dread and evil intent.

They slid through a murky atmosphere and descended toward a twilight city o f buildings that were small and isolated by Coruscant standard. Many were d omes, ziggurats, trapezoids—all forms much wider at the base than at the su mmit, and Ben was reminded of what he had read of this world, that its arch itecture and even, to some ex-tent, the abilities of the Baran Do Sages had developed in response to the ferocious storms that frequently swept across the planet's surface. Ben decided that these squat, unlovely buildings wer e ideally suited to a population that needed to hunker down and wait out ba d weather.

And perhaps they weren't so unlovely after all. Even from a great al-titude

, he had seen the city as a sea of lights blazing in many colors, and as th ey got low enough to glimpse details on the face of the build-ings illumina ted by those lights, Ben saw the Kel Dor geometric and organic patterns pai nted onto those buildings, disguising their rudimentary shapes with pattern s of well-matched colors. Some structures bore tawny browns and golds in co lor waves that suggested sand-storms, while others were in dappled aquatic hues that would proba-bly half convince someone standing beside them that h e was resting at the bottom of a shallow bay.

Then they were over the spaceport. Each building had a domed ter-minal or h angar, with simple arrows on the roofs pointing to a specific landing circl e or set of circles. Luke set the Jade Shadow down on a cir-cle of permacre te next to a smaller white and tan dome. Then he tax-ied slowly on repulsor lifts, following blinking lights embedded in the permacrete surface, into t he adjacent domed hangar, whose doors slid closed and sealed once the yacht was settled. Inside, the hangar was well lit but bare.

Ben unbuckled and rose. "This place isn't as ugly as I thought at first."

"No, it isn't." Luke pointed at Ben's seat. "Sit."

"Huh?"

"Postflight checklist."

"Oh." Exasperated, Ben sat again and brought up his checklist on the monitor

. "Engines cooling within standard rates. I notice there's no one here."

"No one here, check."

"Running engine diagnostics now. And the hangar doors are . . " Ben bounc ed a comm query from his control board to the hangar's. "Locked.

We're lo cked in."

"Locked in, check."

"Stop that."

Luke smiled. "We're supposed to stay here until they complete a routine insp ection."

"Inspection." Ben felt a touch of outrage. "You're the Grand Mas-ter of the J
edi Order."

"And the brother-in-law of a smuggler."

"Well, your rank should count for something. Uh, prelim diagnos-tics run ch ecks out in the green."

"Full diagnostics on all systems, please."

Ben initiated the program. As he did so, he saw an oval section of wall stre tch itself toward them, elongating slowly toward a side cou-pling ring. "Her e they come."

* * *

Ben and Luke met them at the air lock. It cycled open to reveal two humanoi ds, lean to the point of emaciation, dressed in black robes decorated in ve rtical black and sky-blue striping patterns. They were bald, with intellige nt eyes that seemed very human, but their lower faces were obscured by brea th masks. One carried an apparatus in a black backpack; a metal cable ran f rom it to a wandlike device, numer-ous sensor intakes along its length, whi ch he held in his hand. The other had only a small card reader.

The one with the card reader extended a hand, palm up. "Identicards, please

." His Basic was unaccented.

Ben handed his card to the Kel Dor an instant after his father. The inspecto r slid each one for a moment into his reader. "I am Lieutenant Dorss, custom s. This is Sergeant Vult. He will conduct a brief inspec-tion of your craft.

Are all compartments accessible?"

Luke nodded. "They are."

Again Ben felt the urge to protest, to tell them, Don't you under-stand, thi s is Luke Skywalker. Why are you bothering? But his father seemed unperturbe d, so he pretended to be as well. Still, he wondered what good it would do t o travel under a name as famous as his father's if it didn't at least lubric ate the wheels of bureaucracy.

The second Kel Dor disappeared aft, waving his sensor wand.

The second Kel Dor disappeared aft, waving his sensor wand.

Now Dorss began his ritual interrogation. "Purpose of visit to Dorin?"

"Research," Luke said. "We seek an audience with the Baran Do Sages."

"Information brokerage, then?"

Luke frowned, perplexed. "I don't think so. I didn't plan to offer any credit s for the information I'm looking for. Nor would I charge any for information I provide."

"No trade goods?"

Both Jedi shook their heads.

The Kel Dor hesitated, then handed back the identicards.

"Tourism, then." There was an air of finality to his decision. "Will you re quire accommodations?"

"No, for convenience's sake, we'll be keeping quarters aboard the yacht."

The Kel Dor nodded knowingly. There was something in the ges-ture, as if he had concluded long before that celebrities were tight with their credits and was happy for Luke Skywalker to reinforce the stereo-type, that irritated B
en further.

The sergeant returned and spoke a few words to Dorss in what must have been the native tongue of Dorin. Dorss nodded. "All per-sonal effects within ca tegorical limits. Enjoy your stay on Dorin."

"Thank you." Luke waved agreeably as they reentered the air lock.

Ben frowned. "This is worse than traveling incognito. They acted like they'd never heard of you."

Luke smiled, and there was just a touch of taunt to it. "You've been around

, Ben. Wasn't that much nicer than arriving somewhere and finding that ever yone is trying to shoot you?"

"Well . . . yes."

"Don't get too used to the benefits of fame, son. You'll find your-self mak ing mistakes in order to regain them when they're taken away from you."

"I guess."

"Now get on the planetary data grid and find us city maps, city di-rectories

, the location of the Baran Do headquarters, contact names, for our datapads

. I'll check out our own breath masks to make sure they're up to the job."

"Right." Ben returned to the cockpit, wondering if, in deciding to accompan y his father, he had somehow consigned himself to ten years of dullness.

No, that was a child's perspective. He had to continue thinking like an adult.

Like a Jedi.

Even a Jedi in exile.

Chapter Twelve

CALRISSIAN-NUNB MINES, KESSEL

"The pit," Han said, "is what happens when an atmosphere plant sits on one s pot for a few years. It digs up stones that have oxygen and nitrogen in them

. It cracks the stone, spitting the dust out through the hole onto an ever-g rowing sand hill and spewing the gases up into the sky. Meanwhile, the hole underneath gets bigger and bigger until they have to dismantle the facility and move it. On Kessel, sometimes those pits punch their way into cavern sys tems."

"And if explorers find spice, a mine is born," Leia said.

Han nodded, gloomy.

Below, the shaft was ringed by a set of lights indicating a specific mine lev el. Descending past it, their vehicle lights revealed a large metal door in t he side of the shaft just above the illuminating ring, suggesting that a side tunnel continued beyond the door. Many meters farther down, they could see a nother such ring.

On the passenger-side monitor, Leia brought up a schematic map of the mine c omplex. "So let me get this straight. The energy spiders feed on energy. Dra in it right out of living things."

"Uh-huh."

"And they also spin webs to trap their prey."

"Well, mostly they sort of spit the webs up on rock surfaces. They don't usu ally spin them in the open air. Though they sometimes spin lines to climb."

"Where does the mass for the webs come from? And the mass to let the spi ders grow? Not from matter-energy conversion. They couldn't be absorbing that much energy."

Han shook his head. "They eat a certain amount of stone. Kessel is laced wit h veins of ryll, and ryll is one of the major components of glitterstim."

Ne ither as effective nor as rare a spice as glitterstim, ryll was a mineral fo und on several worlds, notably Ryloth, home planet of the Twi'leks. As infor mation about the energy spiders had been released over the years by Lando's mining company, Han had kept up with it, out of a sense of horrified fascina tion.

They passed another two light rings during that exchange. Leia tracked the ir progress on her diagram. "How low are we going to go?"

"All the way to the bottom, or until you feel something."

"Nothing yet."

"We could just go back up again, grab Allana, and go home."

"I feel something!"

"What?"

"Irritation. Stop trying to slither out of this mission."

Han sighed.

They descended in silence for a while. Eventually the speeder's lights illumi nated rough stone all around and below: the end of the shaft, and there were no tunnels, artificial or natural, branching from it. Han increased power to the repulsors and they rose toward the next light ring up, the lowest tunnel entrance.

As they hovered outside the metal door, Leia touched a control on the board before her. The door slid open, revealing a dark tile-floored chamber beyo nd.

"Still," Han said, "it's much better than the first time I was down here.

Doors open when you want them to, and the mine manager gives you drinks an d weapons instead of sending someone to kill you."

"That's progress."

The tile-floored chamber was a ready room. Banks of lockers held equipment the miners would use in their work. There was no one present

—Lando had sa id he was keeping all personnel out of the mine until the situation was re solved—and for some reason Han found the lack of people additionally unset tling. If he and Leia had to run from a monster they couldn't kill, there would be no nasty guards to distract the beasts. Han preferred to have slo wer-moving people behind him in situations like that.

They moved out of the ready room into a chamber where mine cars waited.

The l ittle train of six open-top cars sat on the dusty stone floor but if activate d, they would rise on repulsorlifts, resembling a flying centipede.

The cars looked like original equipment from Han's first visit to Kessel.

Another large metal door at the far end of the chamber slid open at Leia's t ransmitted signal, giving them access to the mine tunnels themselves.

"Don't worry," Leia said. "This isn't one of the feeding regions. Reduces the odds that we'll run into a spider here."

"Feeding regions." The last door slid shut behind them. Now only the speeder

's lights kept total darkness at bay. Hair tried to stand up on the back of Han's neck; he smoothed it down.

"To help control the movements of the energy spiders and give the miners so me predictable sites to look for spice, Lando and Nien Nunb send processed ryll and incendiary devices into specific shafts in rota-tion. While the sp iders are eating in one area and spinning new webs there, the miners go to areas where they were before and get fresh spice. This"

—Leia gestured, indi cating their surroundings—"is not one of the tunnels in rotation."

"All that's on the map?"

"No, the map just says where the feeding zones are right now. I looked up w hat it meant in the prospectus Tendra gave me."

"Prospectus."

"You know, a business plan document. Used, among other things, to persuad e people to invest."

Han looked at her, alarmed. "Did you want to invest in this?"

Leia sighed. "No. It was a convenient source of information, and that's why Tendra gave it to me. But I suppose I could invest in all the businesses tha t have brought you so much happiness over the years. For instance, Jabba the Hutt's trade empire."

"He's dead. You killed him."

"Yes, but his business lives on. Or how about some of the Death Star manuf acturing subcontractors."

"Stop it."

"Maybe just the folk who make trash compactors. Everyone needs trash comp actors. Oh, and frozen-in-carbonite dream vacations."

Han just gritted his teeth, determined to wait her out.

Ahead, the tunnel forked. Leia consulted her map, tracing the two routes wit h a fingertip. "This one, the lower one, Lando has marked as one of the plac es Tendra and Nien planted sensors. This other one, which doesn't go as deep but heads off westward at an odd angle, hasn't been recently explored. Let'

s try that one."

"Is that just random interest, or a presentiment in the Force?"

"Random—" She paused, and a look of mild surprise crossed her face.

"Bot h, maybe."

Han turned left, into the tunnel she indicated.

* * *

CITY OF DORSHAN, DORIN

Ben did not often feel like a complete outsider, but this world seemed bent on convincing him that he was.

It started with his breath mask, a full-face rig that kept the plane-tary a tmosphere, mostly helium with some other gases in the mix, at bay. It was a ttached to a backpack rig that included canisters of oxygen-nitrogen mix an d a converter that broke a proportion of the carbon dioxide emerging from h uman lungs back into its component elements, reintroducing the oxygen into the breathing mix. A human could go for most of a day on a planet like this on only one charge, but Ben wasn't impressed with the rig's convenience. I t was like being chained to his luggage.

Then there were the people. Luke had decided that he and Ben would walk to the Baran Do Sages' temple, as the map showed it to be not too far for a le g-stretching hike, and so Ben had the opportunity to see hundreds of the Ke l Dors in the spaceport terminal building and on the streets.

Like the two who had performed the inspection, most were tall and angular.

U
nlike the inspectors, they were bare-faced . . . and what faces they had! Ro und bald heads, sunken eyes, narrow ridge-like noses that looked to Ben like failed attempts at becoming birds' beaks, and large, toothless mouths that looked like they belonged on very old hu-mans . . . Ben tried not to stare a t every face he passed, but he couldn't help himself, and did not like himse lf for the conclusion he reached.

When he and his father arrived at the street where the temple was to be found

, a street almost free of speeders but still trafficked by pedestrians, and t hey were no longer near any crowds of natives, he said, "Dad, these are not a pretty people."

Luke considered. "From a certain point of view, perhaps."

"It sort of bothers me that I see them that way."

"Well, you know the answer to that. What's one of the first things you learne d in training to be a Jedi?"

"Don't cut off your own head with your lightsaber."

"After that."

"Your eyes can deceive you. Be mindful of your feelings. Girls are fun but dangerous. Lando has extra cards up his sleeve."

"Well, the truth is in there somewhere . . . Tell you what, if you think it's wrong for you to think of them as ugly, just think of how you look to them.' '

' Luke made a sweeping gesture, taking in his son from head to foot.

"Short, s quat, unlined skin, a nose that puffs up like a ro-dent, tiny little mouth wit h jagged white things in it, a horrible shrub-like growth on your head."

Ben laughed. "This, from the man who's worn a bowl-cut hairstyle almost all his adult life."

"You're young, Ben. You'll learn to see with wiser eyes. And if you deliberatel y set out to do that, it'll be faster."

The stretch of the city between the spaceport and their destination had bee n thick with smaller buildings, the exterior signs in the Kel Dor language suggesting that most were businesses. Now the buildings were larger, some s et within walled enclosures. Ben checked his data-pad, using a comfortingly familiar planetary positioning system to compare their location with the m aps, and found they were only forty meters from their objective.

He pointed ahead and across the street. "There."

What he was looking at was clearly an estate—one large ziggurat-shaped buil ding, each of its four levels darker than the ones below it, graduating fro m thundercloud gray-black down to sky blue, sur-rounded by two-story outbui ldings in similar colors, all within a wall made up of black wrought-durast eel posts with transparisteel sheets laid across them. The transparisteel w as smooth and a little uneven, and Ben could visualize, perhaps as a tiny v ision in the Force, Baran Do apprentices polishing it over the years, remov ing minute scratches, that had caused the transparent material to become sl ightly worn and misshapen. Through it, as he and Luke advanced, the buildin gs seemed to distort and sway.

They stopped before the gates, which were ajar and undefended. A path of red

-orange flagstones led from there to the steps rising into the main building

. The double front doors were also open, with light streaming out from the i nterior.

Luke looked at the approach and grinned.

"What's so funny?"

"Tradition. You'll see. C'mon." Luke put on his serene Grand Mas-ter face, made sure his robes were smoothed into presentability, and headed in.

With a quick check of his own hair, Ben followed, a pace back and to the right.

The entrance chamber of the temple of the Baran Do Sages was large and impo sing. Black stone walls reached up more than six me-ters. White stone colum ns against those walls, rounded and slightly narrower at the base than the top, not only suggested that the ceiling would be kept at a distance but he lped offset the darkness of the decor. The ceiling was of a blue-black ston e and sparkled like a starry sky, while the floor was a brown permacrete po lished smooth, perhaps even waxed. It was all dimly lit by blue glow rods a t floor level against the walls.

Ben nodded, instantly grasping the intent of the decorative style. Sky above

, ground below, darkness of the black holes to either side, columns suggesti ng the constructions or intents of living beings keep-ing those nightmarish celestial anomalies at bay.

Immediately opposite the main entrance was a raised platform with steps lead ing up to it. It was only a meter higher than the floor itself, and there wa s no furniture on it. Ben had half expected a throne of some sort, or a circ le of seats like in the Masters' Chamber at the Jedi Temple. There was a Kel Dor woman standing on the platform, her robes white with curved dotted-line decorations in red and black; she was staring off at the left wall as Luke and Ben entered, and did not react to their arrival.

No other doors or hallways seemed to exit this chamber, but the square sheets of black stone on the walls, fitting together almost seam-lessly, could hide a dozen exits.

Luke drew to a halt two meters from the platform steps and waited. Ben stoo d silently beside him.

The Kel Dor woman turned toward them. She spoke, her Basic lightly flavor ed with a lilting accent: "Who comes to us?"

"I am Luke Skywalker, a Jedi. This is my companion, Jedi Ben Skywalker."

"Ah. Famous names." The woman tilted her head as she studied them. "My n ame is not so famous. I am Tistura Paan."

Luke nodded a greeting. "I am pleased to meet you."

"What is the business you bring before us?"

"I am investigating the travels of a former student of mine. I am trying to determine whether he came here and what he might have learned."

"Your student's name?"

"Jacen Solo."

"Also a famous name." Tistura Paan scratched at her nasal ridge. "I think th ese arc questions for the Mistress of our order, Tila Mong."

Luke nodded. "Then I wish to speak with your Mistress at her convenience.

"

"And whom shall I say wishes to see her?"

Luke hesitated so briefly that Ben suspected only he detected it. "As I sai d before, Jedi Luke Skywalker and Jedi Ben Skywalker."

"Ah. There is a puzzlement. How can I go before my Mistress and say that the famous Luke Skywalker is here, when I cannot prove that you are indee d he?"

The faintest trace of a smile appeared on Luke's face. "You could take my wo rd for it."

"A word that is beyond price if you are indeed Luke Skywalker, and without measurable worth if you are not."

"I do resemble my holos. Somewhat. If my family is to be be-lieved."

"As would any truly skillful imposter." She spread her arms, palms upraised, a very human gesture of helplessness. "I fear we are at an im-passe. Unless

..."

"Yes?"

"Well, I would stand no chance in combat with the true Luke Sky-walker."

Luke smiled outright. "Or any sufficiently well-trained imposter."

"That is not a given. Regardless, were you to defeat me, I would ac-knowl edge that your claim to be Luke Skywalker was possibly true, and convey y our message to my mistress."

Luke nodded. "A useful solution. But impractical."

"Why?"

"Because you are not worthy to face me."

Ben felt his eyes widen. He forced himself to resume an impassive, sabacc-p laying expression. But his father's words baffled him. They sounded so agre eable in tone, yet were more arrogant than anything he had ever heard his f ather say.

Luke continued, "Still, if a former apprentice of mine can best you, then th e same conditions apply." He turned to Ben. "Son, go beat her up."

Ben froze as if his father's gaze were that of some paralytic monster from my th. After a moment, he was able to clear his throat, covering his confusion, and said, "Sir?"

"Go on up there and knock her down a few times."

"Yes, sir." His mind reeling, Ben strode up the steps to stand before Tist ura Paan. And he wondered for a moment if Valin Horn had been right, if th e Jedi he knew were suddenly being replaced by imperson-ators.

Tistura Paan gave Luke a look Ben interpreted as scornful. "I hope you have a nother child, so that a healthy one can be in rotation while this one lies br uised and crying."

Luke turned his back on them. "Just fight. Let me know when it's over."

Tistura Paan lashed out at Ben, a left-handed, flat-fisted blow straight tow ard his face. She did not look at him beforehand, gave him no visual warning of her intent. But feeling her channeling her power through the Force, he s wayed out of the way, the blow snapping into place just to the side of his n ose. He trapped her wrist with his left hand and struck at her elbow with hi s right—a hard blow but not a savage one, it hyperextended her joint but did not break it. She gave a sudden yank and was instantly meters away, shaking her arm as if to cast the pain free.

Ben sidestepped to take the center of the platform and dropped into a defens ive posture. He wouldn't make the same mistake Tistura Paan had.

If her role here was to challenge every visitor, or just every visitor claiming to be a famous Jedi, she'd probably be good at her job.

She charged him, arms flailing. He sidestepped, reaching out for her right h and, intending to give it a twist and push to launch her past him out of con trol, but the wildness of her attack was all show— leaping past, she kicked at his midsection, a fast, hard blow. He contin-ued his own maneuver into a spin; when the Kel Dor connected, the force of the blow was reduced. It stil l hurt, her skinny leg striking home like a cane, but he was merely forced t o step back, his gut sting-ing where she'd hit him; he did not fall.

Tistura Paan hit the platform in a practiced roll and came up on her feet at i ts edge; she spun, ready again.

Ben spared a glance at his father. Luke still had his back to the fight and l ooked as though he were digging dirt out from under a fingernail.

Tistura Paan advanced more carefully, short steps, her left side for-ward, ha nds up and ready in a classic martial posture. Ben mimicked it. He wasn't sur e how long he should go on letting her demonstrate her skills and tactics as the fight's aggressor—the longer he did so, gaug-ing her skill, the longer he gave her to develop a successful strategy. But neither did he want to rush b lindly into an attack for which she had a ready, practiced defense.

She stopped well short of him and gestured as if shooing children before h er, but the move was more sudden, more forceful. And Force-ful: Ben felt a surge in the Force, and then suddenly wind was shoving him backward towar d the platform's edge, tugging at his garments, pushing at his breath mask.

He knew instinctively that going over the edge would mean losing the match

. He got his feet behind him, bracing him against the Force wind, and drew on his own powers to root him in place.

He stopped, his tactical sense telling him that his rear foot was mere centi meters from the platform edge. But he held where he was.

Then Tistura Paan's attack tore the breath mask from his face. It flew behin d him; a sudden yank against his back told him it had reached the end of the cable by which it was attached to the canisters in his backpack.

This was bad. If he devoted any effort to getting the breath mask on, she'd b e able to assault him, perhaps successfully. If he did noth-ing, he would be limited to the endurance the air still in his lungs gave him—less than a minu te, considering his exertions. But he had to do one or the other . . .

No, he didn't. His father had always taught him to look for the third of two options. He shucked the backpack, letting Tistura Paan's Force assault carry it away from his body. He heard it clank against the stone wall.

Tistura Paan's eyes grew wide. She smiled. "Thank you for handing me the victory. Well, in a few moments." The Force wind stopped.

Ben wasted no breath on a retort. He advanced and threw a rapid punch-kick

-punch combination, not quite at full speed or strength. The Kel Dor block ed the maneuvers with a smooth, defensive style.

Ben settled into an aggressive pattern, one he'd practiced so often with Jace n and at the Temple that it was almost second nature to him. It was second na ture, which meant that it occupied very little of his mental faculties.

In his mind, he focused on his discarded breath mask and canister pack.

He c ould feel them against the wall, almost see them. He ex-erted his will again st the rig through the Force, lifting the whole mass a few centimeters, brin ging it forward to the base of the platform.

Tistura Paan's fist hit him in the ribs, an attack he'd failed to antic-ipate because of his inattentiveness. The rock-hard blow drove the air from his lung s and forced him to take a step back.

The Kel Dor's smile grew wider. It was an unattractive smile, lips pulled b ack over hard upper and lower palates that Ben supposed must take the place of teeth. "Wake up, Jedi boy, whoever you are."

Ben felt a twinge of panic, but he knew it was just a physiological reactio n to not being able to breathe. He suppressed the emotion and divided his a ttention more equally between what his body was doing and what he was up to with his manipulation of the Force.

Tistura Paan struck; he parried. The breath mask rig floated an-other few me ters along the base of the platform and rounded a corner. Tistura Paan threw a flurry of feints and punches; Ben blocked each, exerting himself as littl e as possible, but could feel his energy starting to wane. Still, the breath mask rig floated and rounded another corner. Now it was at floor level behi nd Tistura Paan.

She stopped for a moment and backed away a step. "Would you like to rest?"

Though voiced as if in all seriousness, the question was a taunt, since Ben could not recover without breathing.

Ben glowered as if angered by the question. He sprang at her as if ready to b egin one last, futile flurry of blows, then yanked with the Force.

The breath mask rig sailed up over the lip of the platform and caught Tistur a Paan behind the knees. Suddenly falling backward, she flailed her arms.

Be n spun on one foot, placing the other precisely past her now vanished guard, and hitting her in the center of her chest.

Tistura Paan sailed off the platform and hit the floor beyond, only a few s teps from Luke. She did a backward somersault and came up on her feet, eyes flashing. "You failed. You brought outside objects into play."

Ben stooped to pick up his breath mask. He fitted it over his face, not bothe ring yet to strap on the canister pack, and took a couple of deep breaths. "T
ow brought it into play," he said. "You yanked it off me and therefore made a n attack of it. I merely followed your lead. Logically, I would have left it right where it was if you hadn't meddled with it."

Tistura Paan glowered, then turned her head as if looking into the distance well beyond the walls. Finally, she turned her attention to Luke. "I will co mmunicate your request."

He looked at her blankly, then turned to Ben. "Are you all done?"

"Yes, sir." Ben donned the canister pack.

"Did you win?"

"Yes, sir. I only knocked her down once. But it was off the plat-form."

"Well, that will have to do." Luke turned back to the Kel Dor. "Yes, pleas e, and convey my compliments."

Tistura Paan turned and strode, her steps rapid and her upper body a bit sti ff, toward a blank section of side wall; a segment of stone, two meters high and two wide, withdrew about a handspan, then slid to one side to allow her entry. Once she was through, it closed.

Ben hopped down to stand beside his father. Keeping his tone down, he aske d, "What was that all about?"

Luke gave him a slight, private smile. "Rival school traditions."

"Huh?"

"In many martial schools, such as rival lightsaber training acade-mies in a ncient times, or military academies outside the Old Republic, someone visit ing a rival school would generally be denied any aid or information until h e'd proved his worth. Which meant proving it to a Master of the school in o ne-on-one combat. As we arrived, I could sense Tistura Paan's presence with in and what her role was. And that she knew we were coming."

"But you didn't fight her."

"Correct. If I had agreed to fight Tistura Paan, someone beneath my rank, I would be acknowledging that I was not the equal of her Master, so I'd neve r see the leader of the Baran Do Sages."

A light flared into luminescence in Ben's head. "All, so your stu-dent had to beat her student."

"And you did, and very well. You turned your mistake into her mis-take and your weakness into your strength."

"And you got clean nails in the bargain. A win all around."

The wall panel slid open again. Tistura Paan moved out, her face impassive, and gestured for them to precede her through that en-trance.

"Mistress Til a Mong will receive you now."

Chapter Thirteen

CALRISSIAN-NUNB MINES, KESSEL

They glided forward in near darkness now. The only lights to be seen were t he dim bluish readouts on the control console. The whine of the vehicle's r epulsors and the occasional pinging of the sen-sor board were almost the on ly sounds to be heard.

"Have we passed any spice yet?" Leia asked. She glanced between the various sensor readouts, each occupying one-eighth of one of the console monitors.

Her face was ghostly in the faint light from the in-struments.

Han shook his head, then realized Leia might not be able to see the motion.

He tapped the lower right readout on her screen. "That's the spice sniffer.

A chemical sensor. Also detects ryll, and distinguishes be-tween the two.

Th ese things are so sensitive that they'd pick up even very old, activated spi ce within a hundred meters. What are you detect-ing?"

"Just what you see here. Mostly air currents caused by our repulsors. They r eturn short, false movement positives."

"No, I mean you. Through the Force."

"Ah." She shook her head. "Not much. There's life all around us, mostly very faint—lower life-forms like insects, I think. Nothing as bright or vital as a humanoid or a giant arachnid."

"Would the spiders show up in the Force?" Han asked.

"We'll see. They'll show up in the motion detectors." Leia tilted her head, h er eyes narrowing in concentration. "Wait, there's some-thing."

Han gulped and looked all around. "Where?"

"Below us. Strong, but distant."

"What's under us on the map?" Han gave the speeder a little more altitude, bu t this tunnel was only five meters tall; he could bring the speeder as close as possible to the irregular ceiling and a Wookiee standing on the floor coul d still reach up and touch it.

Leia switched her attention to the monitor where she kept the map.

"Nothing,"

she said. "This isn't the deepest point in the mine, but there's no part of the mine beneath us."

"Uncharted tunnels, then."

Leia turned her head this way and that as if listening to something whose loc ation she couldn't quite gauge. "It's coming this way."

"Straight up?"

"Yes."

Han nudged the thrusters. It wouldn't do to build up too much speed in these twisting tunnels, but he also didn't want to be directly over something whe n it came crashing up through the floor.

"It's adjusting to follow."

Han blinked. "That's no spice spider, then." He put on more speed.

"Coming up closer. Pacing us, directly beneath."

Han glanced at the sensor board. It showed nothing but their own air displa cement manifesting on the movement detector readout. "Pacing us in the rock

?" Then realization hit him. "Hey, I know what that has to be."

"What?"

It burst up from the rock below and ahead of the speeder, a swirling ball of c olored lights, just large enough to fit an astromech like R2-D2 completely wit hin it. It leapt up directly into Han's path, its compara-tive brilliance all but blinding him. He twitched the speeder to port, the barest of maneuvers, in tended to return the speeder to its original course instantly after it avoided the obstacle . . .

But the speeder plowed right through the ball of light. Han felt hair standin g on end all over his body. Instantly, the repulsors quit, and every monitor and readout on the control console crackled and went black.

Han yanked back on the yoke, knowing the attempt was futile. The speeder dro pped three meters and plowed nose-first into the tunnel floor. It skidded fo rward, its contact with the bare stone sending up sparks, then fetched up ag ainst the right-hand tunnel wall and was still.

Leia leaned over him. "Are you all right?"

"No problem." Han turned to stare back the way they'd come. The swirling b all of luminescence hovered there, thirty meters away, un-moving, as if wa tching them.

Leia put her hand on her lightsaber. "Very pretty. And destructive. What is i t?"

"The miners here call them bogeys. Some sort of indigenous life-form—"

Leia extended her free hand toward the thing and closed her eyes.

"—and the spiders eat them, so, you know, if one is here, the odds improve that a spider is coming—"

"I don't think it's alive. I can't detect it in the Force as life, just as ene rgy.

Energy and intent." Leia opened her eyes again. "I'm going to give it a l ook." She donned her breath mask, then opened the door. Han felt the air press ure diminish; he grabbed and put on his own mask. Leia stepped out of the spee der.

"Leia, no, get back in the speeder, it just may mean that no Kessel life-fo rm shows up in the Force, you know, like the Yuuzhan Vong, meaning that the spiders might not, either—"

She wasn't listening. Muttering a swear word that would have caused other smugglers to raise an eyebrow, Han grabbed a grenade launcher from the bac kseat and stepped out. "Leia ..."

His wife walked straight toward the bogey, her free hand upraised. The boge y hovered there, decorative and unmenacing, making a curious clacking and c hattering noise, until she was a meter from touching it. Then it plunged st raight down into the stone below, vanishing from sight.

And taking every trace of illumination with it.

Suddenly Han was thrust into the past, into the absolute darkness of these tunnels, when he, Chewbacca, and Kyp Durron had run for their lives with a monster in pursuit. Now, again, he was kilometers deep within Kessel, insuf ficiently armed or mobile to deal with the dangers of the place.

He forced himself to slow his breathing. Now wasn't then. More than thirty years had gone by. He was in a section of the mine where there was no sign of spice, and therefore no sign of spiders.

But if one came, he'd be just as helpless before it.

"My lightsaber doesn't work."

Han let out a slow breath. "How do you know?"

"Tried to turn it on to give us a little light."

"Let me know if you hear anything like skittering. Clattering. Clicking." Wel l, maybe he wasn't entirely as helpless as he'd been the last time. The grena de launcher in his hands was reassuringly heavy, and perhaps, given its antiq uity and simplicity of construction, it hadn't been disrupted as the speeder and lightsaber had.

Perhaps. He kept his voice under tight control. "Want to get back in the spe eder, sweetie?"

"No, I'll just keep my ears open until you get it started up."

Han fought the urge to grit his teeth. "All right."

* * *

CITY OF DOR'SHAN, DORIN

The chamber where they met Mistress Tila Mong was far less ceremo-nial and ostentatious than the one in which Ben had fought. Though it was circular, with smooth black walls of stone, its furnishings of tan wood proclaimed it to be an office.

Tila Mong, seated behind one of three desks when the Skywalkers entered, ro se to shake their hands. She was, to Ben's unpracticed eye, perhaps a bit o lder than the other Kel Dors he had seen, more wrinkles to her face and eve n less flesh on her bones, but she moved gracefully enough. She wore simple

, undecorated robes in a shell-like off-white that seemed oddly detached fr om the colors around her.

Once her guests were seated and the door had slid shut behind Tistura, she began. "We heard with sympathy and misgivings the news of your recent unp leasantness."

"Thank you." Luke gave her a little nod of appreciation. "Because of those events, it would be inappropriate to refer to me as or accord me any of the benefits that would come to me as Grand Master of the Jedi Order."

"Then we shall limit ourselves to the benefits due the man who refounded th e Jedi and helped break the hold the Empire had on the galaxy."

Ben decided that he liked her.

"My recent unpleasantness is related to the Second Galactic Civil War. The war was, in part, due to the actions of Jacen Solo. I am try-ing to retra ce the steps he took throughout the galaxy prior to the war, to find out m ore about what made him the way he was. Some time back, he demonstrated a Force technique that makes me think he may have been here during his trave ls—here, studying among the Baran Do Sages."

Tila Mong nodded. "He was here. Some nine years ago. He came seeking kn owledge of our ways with the Force."

Ben did a quick mental calculation. That would have put Jacen's visit close to the end of his wanderings, just prior to the Dark Nest crisis.

Neither Luke's face nor any sign in the Force betrayed his reaction. "May I ask, what did you teach him?"

"I, nothing. I was not Mistress at that time. Master of the Baran Do was the n Koro Ziil, who has since accepted death."

Luke looked a little puzzled. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure I understand. In most d ialects of Basic, one 'accepts death' as a consequence of an act or as an alte rnative to some other fate. Is that what the phrase means as you use it?"

"Oh. No." Tila Mong shook her head. "To accept death among the Baran Do is to decide that your time has come, to make prepara-tions, to say farewell, and to die. It is a peaceful end."

"If it is not too personal a question, what is the mechanism of death? The actual means by which the body becomes lifeless?"

"We simply offer up the life within us to merge with the Force. Life flees, the body perishes. It is a technique known to the Masters of our Order. The body is then cremated. This is a sign of great respect, as combustible mater ials are rarer here than on oxygen-rich worlds."

Luke nodded. "Was this one of the techniques Jacen learned?"

"I think not. He was more interested in the areas of our specialty— extensi on of the senses, detection of danger, detection of evil intent. Also of ke eping himself from detection." Tila Mong lowered her gaze to the desktop, c learly casting back in her memory. "We thought he was a good man. We hesita ted not at all to teach him our methods."

"I think he was a good man then." Luke, reflecting, was silent for a moment

. "Would it be possible for me to learn the techniques Jacen learned?"

Tila Mong looked up at him—a hard, direct stare. "Would it be safe?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Our observation, thankfully distant, has been that Jacen Solo be-came a n ryghat—a monster of nightmares, the sort that haunts the dreams of childre n. But he was not always so. Could it be that the methods we taught him, F
orce techniques developed by our species for our own use, could affect the mind of a human in a bad way, a damaging way?"

"It's . . . possible."

"Then you should not be subjected to the same danger. If Jacen Solo, a ver y powerful Jedi, were transformed by what we taught him, and did all that he did, what might Luke Skywalker, the most famous, most powerful, and mos t experienced living Jedi, do if he were simi-larly affected?"

Luke met her gaze steadily. "And yet I have to know."

"Teach me instead," Ben heard himself saying.

Both his father and Tila Mong looked at him, surprised, as if they'd forgott en Ben was not a droid with a restraining bolt keeping its vocabulators from being activated.

Ben continued, "If I change the way Jacen did, well, I'm not as powerful as he was or my father is. I'm no danger. Well, less of a dan-ger. My father co uld find a way to cure me."

Luke shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ben. It needs to be someone as educated in as many subtleties of the Force as possible, and that means me." "But if y ou do turn the way Jacen did—"

Luke gave him a wan smile. "It took Jacen years to become Darth Caedus, and in that time he exhibited signs that we missed or ignored . . . signs that I believe we are very much attuned to now. Yes?"

"Well, yes."

"If something happens to my thinking processes, to the way I feel about peopl e and my duties, I suspect I'll notice the change and seek help. Even if I do n't, you will."

"No, Dad. What if it's sudden and total? What if you're Luke Sky-walker to day and Darth Starkiller tomorrow?"

Luke hesitated. "Then it would be your job to find a way to stop me. Even ki ll me."

"No."

"Ben, I don't think anything like that will happen. But if it does, you need t o be a Jedi first. To put personal loyalties behind your re-sponsibility to th e innocent, to the Force. If you can't promise me you can do that, you may nee d to return to Coruscant."

Ben just stared, stunned by the implacability of that statement. But he knew h is father meant it.

There it was again, attachment. The things Jacen and Darth Vader had been attached to had meant more than all the innocent lives in the galaxy, and they had become monsters.

He could not let his own father become a monster.

"All right, Dad."

"Promise me, Ben."

"You have my word. As a Jedi." Every one of those words was a twist on wha t felt like a clamp around his heart.

Luke sat back, satisfied, and returned his attention to the Mistress of the Ba ran Do.

She, too, nodded. "Very well. Return tomorrow at dawn. You may want to br ing food of your own choice, as humans do not much care for ours.

There i s a shop catering to human needs near the street mar-ket."

Luke smiled. "We'll be here."

* * *

On their walk back to the spaceport, Ben kicked a rock lying at the side of th e street and watched it bounce off an estate wall. "I think I'd rather be tort ured again than go through another conversation like that."

Luke nodded. "Me, too."

"You seemed to take it well enough. Making me promise to kill you."

"Only under certain circumstances. Not just because I insist you eat your ve getables."

Ben snorted, his humor partly restored. "If you start to feel evil, tell me as soon as possible. Don't wait and cut my hand off first."

"Did you notice that she was lying?"

Ben frowned at the sudden change of subject. "The Mistress? About what?

"

"I'm not sure. It wasn't as though I had a little spike of perception saying, Ah, she's just lied about her name. It was a conviction that grew throughout t he conversation, like she was hiding some fact, sitting on it and smothering i t so we wouldn't notice it."

"Sort of like trying to not think about the pink bantha in the cor-ner."

"Exactly."

"Nah, you're imagining things. Masters of ancient orders who study the Force never have secrets. Never have shameful events in their families ..."

"Ben, I think your words alone might turn me evil."

Chapter Fourteen

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

“The problem with venomous reptiles," Master Cilghal said, "is that when yo u use them to harm others, you stand a chance of being bitten yourself."

Surrounded by many other Jedi in the eating hall of the Temple, she though t she was speaking to herself, and that her words were being drowned out b y the words blaring from the news monitor mounted on swing-out armatures o n one wall. Master Durron had rushed in and gestured at the monitor; it ha d come to life, showing the soaring exterior of the Galactic Courts of Jus tice Building. Though it was generally against the rules to have broadcast s running during meals, teaching sessions, or anytime the Jedi and student s needed peace of mind, nobody argued with a Master who had something to s how.

And so there on the monitor screen, framed by the Courts of Jus-tice Buildin g in the background and bracketed by small boxes of scrolling data on either side, had stood Wolam Tser, who had been well respected as a newscaster and documentarian before anyone in the Temple had been born, offering news abou t them: ". . . rush to accel-erate all legal issues concerning the Jedi Orde r seems to have worked against the intent of the Chief of State's office. To day, in a landmark nine-to-three decision, the highest court in the Galactic Alliance has overturned the so-called Guilty by Association rider to the re cent ex-ecutive order limiting the powers of the Jedi Order. Though the re-s trictions remain in place on the Jedi, former members and Alliance citizens with training in Jedi-like arts remain free of those limitations. Chief Just ice Uved Pledesin of Lorrd, in the majority-opinion docu-ment, states unequi vocally that possession of a skill or specific knowledge cannot in and of it self be sufficient to curtail an individual's rights. Legal analysts point o ut, however, that individuals in possession of sensitive information can sti ll be declared a danger to the Alliance, a measure that allows for person-by

-person imposition of limitations such as those recently levied against the Jedi.

"Alvida Suar is standing by with the instigators of this case. Alvida?"

As the monitor picture shifted to that of an attractive woman with a yellowis h tint to her skin, the very well-dressed Nawara Ven and Tahiti Veila behind her, the Jedi in the dining hall applauded and raised their voices in discuss ion of the decision.

But Cilghal had a feeling of foreboding about it. She did not think the Force was speaking to her; it was simply experience with galactic politics . . . a nd the sentient tendency to exact revenge for offenses both great and small, real and imagined.

"Master?" The voice was soft and high, immature, and Cilghal looked down to see, sitting below her peripheral vision, a Jedi youngling, a platter of f ood before her. The human girl, who could scarcely have been eight, looked confused.

"Yes, child?"

"I don't understand what you meant by poisonous reptile."

Cilghal considered her words. "I meant that the strength of every blow you strike can be turned against you. The energy in your lunge can be made to p ropel you in a direction you do not wish to go."

"So the court thing is bad for us?"

"It doesn't improve our situation at all, but it suggests to the gov-ernment t hat we are defying them."

"So it's like getting in trouble for what your friend does."

"Very much so." Cilghal's comlink pinged, the signal of the Jedi guarding th e main Temple entrance; it was a request from them that a Master come out to deal with some situation. Cilghal gave the little girl a reassuring look an d headed out of the dining hall.

Master Durron caught up with her a few meters short of the main entrance.

He was smiling, elated. "That was good news."

"For Tahiri Veila."

"Cilghal, it's the first chink in the wall of the government's position against us. The High Court is going to review the entire executive order. It could fal l, too."

"It's not the only thing."

They swept out through the huge, open doors at the start of the Great Hall.

Beyond was the breadth of Coruscant in late-morning sun.

Much closer were several official speeders hovering over and to the sides of the entryway. One was an ambulance, its rear doors open. The others w ere mostly Galactic Alliance Security vehicles, their operatives standing with a few medical personnel, and among them were the bounty hunters

—Zil aash Kuh, the dark-haired ersatz Jedi, and Vrannin Vaxx, the human-turned

-YVH-droid.

As Cilghal and Kyp arrived, a security captain turned from speaking with the Jedi guarding the entryway. He moved to stand before the two Masters.

He wa s in full combat gear and his face, beneath his up-raised helmet visor, was flushed red. "You'd better tell these two idiots to begin cooperating or the y're going to spend five years in jail."

Kyp's expression darkened. "You'd better—"

"Their job is to prevent unauthorized entry, just as it is the job of guards outside your blockhouse to do the same," Cilghal interrupted, as smoothly as she could.

"I am authorized to enter." The man held up a datacard. "This is a warrant.

My authorization."

"Which the guards, being very young, would not know what to do with."

Cilg hal reached out to pluck the card from the captain's grasp, moving so swif tly that he stared at his palm for a second as if wonder-ing how it had be come suddenly empty.

Cilghal slid the card into her datapad. On the screen appeared the opening lines of a legal document—a warrant for the arrest of Jedi Valin Horn. "Ah.

Of course. I must point out that the government and the Order have not yet come to terms on the question of who is to evaluate Jedi Horn's mental sta te."

"We'll decide that. The Jedi no longer have a say in the matter."

Cilghal felt very un-Jedi-like irritation bubbling up within her. "By the w ay, where is Captain Savar? The intelligent one who stands a chance of prom otion sometime in his career?"

"Out cuddling Ewoks, I expect. Now, it's time for you to hand over Valin."

"Not quite."

The captain took another step forward, putting him face-to-face with Cilgha l. She could feel tension rising in the captain's companions. Several of th em made sure their weapons were at hand. The two bounty hunters surreptitio usly stepped away from each other as if to define separate but overlapping fields of fire. "What," the captain asked, "did you say?"

"You have left out a necessary step. You have failed to identify your-self."

Cilghal's palm itched as her sense of the moment told her it would be a very good idea to have her lightsaber in hand. But she couldn't reach for it, not in this situation. She would have to rely on her unarmed skills, and on the a ctions of Kyp Durron, if things went sour.

The captain hesitated, then drew an identicard from one of his pockets. He h eld it up directly in front of one of her bulbous eyes. "Captain Oric Harfar d, Galactic Alliance Security." The holo on the card matched his face, excep t that it was not as red. "Now get out of my way, fish-head."

"Two things. First, my name is not Fish-Head. It is Master Cil-ghal." If Cil ghal's tone had been an actual temperature, her words would have given the c aptain a bad case of facial frostbite. "Second, I am not in your way.

That i s a logistical impossibility. I am less than a meter wide. The entryway wher e we stand and the doorway behind me are several meters wide. I now leave it as an exercise of your alleged intelligence to find a way into the Temple.

If you do a very good job, perhaps we will name the test after you." She pou red her disdain for the man through the Force.

Stupid or not, the captain was not weak-willed enough to be overtly affect ed. He pocketed his identicard, then waved his troops forward. Slowly they filed past him and entered the Temple. As Zilaash Kuh and Vrannin Vaxx pa ssed, Cilghal felt Kyp leave her side, follow-ing them.

The captain remained where he was. "If you're Cilghal, then the perpetrator is your patient. I'm surprised that you don't want to be there when we take your patient into custody."

Cilghal did want that, but she could not bear for this sorry excuse of a hum an to win any victories she could prevent. "No, I'm going to stand here, enj oy the morning air, and transmit this document to Master Kenth Hamner, leade r of the Order, a man who actually had a distinguished military career. Jedi Tekli can prepare Jedi Horn for transportation."

Well, if the captain could not be compelled to leave, perhaps he could be m ade to suffer for his impudence. As she transmitted the war-rant file and a dded a brief message to Master Hamner, Cilghal altered the nature of the im pulses she was issuing into the Force. Instead of encouraging an emotional urge, she began promoting a biological one—the notion that the captain need ed to visit the refresher. To her compulsion she added visual aids, includi ng images of flowing streams, beautiful waterfalls, and steady, drenching r ainfalls.

The red suffusing the captain's face drained away, to be replaced by someth ing like pallor. "Done with my warrant card yet?"

"No, no. I'm having some trouble with the message I'm adding. Typing on the se things is difficult for a fish-head, you know. By the way, do you call D
hidal Nyz a fish-head? Is it a sign of affection, a nick-name? What is your nickname? Is it Orry—may I call you Orry? Can I get you something to drink

, Orry? A tall, cool glass of water, perhaps?"

* * *

Even as she parked her airspeeder in a low-level hangar at the Jedi Temple, J
aina could feel agitation from above, a sort of atmosphere of un-Jedi-like wo rry and anger that filtered down through permacrete and durasteel like water filtering through coarse cloth. With her ob-server Dab beside her, obliviousl y talking about the High Court deci-sion, she rode the turbolift up.

The agit ation did not feel like a call to arms, did not seem like a physical emergenc y unfolding, so she forced herself not to reach for her lightsaber.

It bother ed her that her first im-pulse was to ready herself for combat.

Despite their role in popular en-tertainment, that was not the way of the Jedi, even for t heir Sword.

She and Dab emerged into a darkened corner of the Great Hall, finding it full of Jedi who stood in small groups, talking in quiet tones.

Jaina strode up to a nearby group of three Jedi, including Master Katarn. "

Master, what's happened?"

Kyle's expression was unperturbed, though he radiated a little anger. "They'

ve come for Valin."

Jaina frowned. "I hadn't heard that we'd come to terms with the government about his evaluation—"

"We haven't. This is unilateral on the government's part. It's in re-taliation for this morning's High Court decision."

"But we didn't have anything to do with that!"

"Of course we did. If we had put pressure on Tahiri Veila to with-draw her appeal, all the pressure the Order could bring to bear, would she have cont inued?"

"Probably not."

"Well, now we know what the government considers cooperation on our part.

Unthinking acceptance of their decisions, silent obedi-ence, preemptive groveling."

From behind them came the sound of a turbolift arriving. Jaina turned as ev eryone else did. From one of the lifts emerged Master Kenth Hamner at the h ead of a short processional. He marched before a floating medical bed, its repulsorlifts quiet and unobtrusive com-pared with those of airspeeders. Va lin lay on the bed, conscious, cov-ered to his neck by a sheet, and strappe d in place. Flanking the bed were Jedi Tekli, Master Durron, and the bounty hunters Kuh and Vaxx. A Jedi apprentice guided the floating bed from the r ear.

Valin was not a silent, immobile patient. He twisted and strained against h is bonds, loudly talking all the while: "Look at you, all of you. You think you have everyone fooled. But you'll make a mistake. They'll sec through y our deception as I have. What have you done with the real Jedi? What have y ou done with the real Horns? Did you kill them? Bring them back alive and u nhurt or I'll make you suffer. You'll suffer like you were swallowed by a s arlacc, forever and ever, once I get my hands on you ..."

Another lift opened, disgorging a squadron of GA Security troop-ers, who swarmed forward and rapidly formed up around the proces-sion.

Dab recorded the progress of the bed and its guard. "They made a very public event of this," he said, so quietly that Jaina barely heard him. "Not nice."

"You have no room to talk." Jaina's tone was angry. "You're part of the prob lem."

Unperturbed, he continued recording. "I'm qualified and even sympathetic.

I f I quit, who replaces me? Maybe a one-armed convict with a grudge against the Jedi, released from prison just for this job? Would you prefer that?"

She didn't answer. Instead, like many of the Jedi present, she fol-lowed the procession.

It reached the end of the hall and exited, passing Master Cilghal and a hum an security captain who looked as though this assignment was making him mis erable. Valin, still haranguing the onlookers, was loaded into the ambulanc e. The security operatives, medical person-nel, and bounty hunters took the ir places in their vehicles.

The captain, pallid and sweating, raised a hand to prevent Master Cilghal a nd Jedi Tekli from boarding the ambulance. Then the caravan of official veh icles got into motion and was gone.

As Master Hamner reentered the hall and passed her, Jaina caught his eye. Sh e whispered, "This is going to get worse and worse as long as we let it."

He nodded, somber. "And yet I have to stay on this course. I need to be abl e to look Chief of State Daala in the eye and say, There is no resistance i n the Order to your measures. Just ask me. Ask any Master." He continued the Order to your measures. Just ask me. Ask any Master." He continued on his way.

Jaina felt a rush of elation. As stuffy as Master Hamner was, as creased and starched in his personality as any of his old dress uniforms, he did know w hat was needed. He wasn't just a stooge for the govern-ment.

"You look suddenly happy," Dab told her.

"Ever been given permission to do what you planned to do any-way?"

"Sure. What were you given permission to do?"

"Have lunch," she lied.

Chapter Fifteen

CALRISSIAN-NUNB MINES, KESSEL

Half an hour later—a time that was mercifully uninterrupted by energy spiders

—the bogey's residual energies that had crippled their electronics began to d issipate. The monitors in the speeder came up with patches of static; Leia te sted her lightsaber and it came on, fit-fully in the first few seconds and th en reassuringly steady Han got be-hind the speeder's controls and tried to co ax the vehicle into life; a few minutes later, its repulsors kicked in and li fted the vehicle off the floor.

As Leia climbed in, Han mopped imaginary sweat from his brow. "Ready to go back up?"

"No, we haven't really found anything."

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

"While we were waiting, I felt more of them in the Force."

"Bogeys?"

She nodded. "Deep, deep down. Maybe they're somehow related to the ground quake phenomenon. I've also traced paths of lower life-forms that I think correspond to tunnels."

"Going down, I assume."

"That's the direction I was looking."

He sighed and put the speeder into motion. "Point the way."

* * *

Kilometers up and to the southeast, in the surface buildings of the Calri ssian-Nunb Mines, Allana sat in a secondary conference room that had been pressed into service as a playroom. Chance was gone, having been bundled off by Nanna for a nap. Allana was alone with C-3PO and R2-D2.

She wanted to glare at them, but that would be showing her true feelings, and her mother—her real mother—had always said that only loved ones dese rved or needed to see your true emotions. And not even them, if you neede d to convince them of something.

"I'm tired of waiting," she told the droids. "I want to do some-thing."

C-3PO looked down at her where she sat on the carpeted floor. "Why, you a re doing something. You're reading on your datapad."

She closed the electronic device with a definitive snap. "No, I want to do something good. Something nobody's ever done before."

"I have done things that no one has ever done before, and I can as-sure you, it is usually a dangerous and alarming sort of activity. Not suited to little gir ls."

"What have you done?"

"Well, I have been mistaken for a golden god, and in so doing helped strik e down the Galactic Empire. Let me tell you that story—"

"No." She grapped her backpack, tossed in her datapad, and dragged out her breath mask. "Let's go outside."

"Not advisable, young miss. Every new world is a place of new, uncatalog ed dangers—"

R2-D2 interrupted him with a series of notes.

"What did he say?" Allana asked.

"He asserted that we could protect you in the unlikely event of danger. In short, he undermined my already precarious authority. Oh, very well. The ou tside offers no comfort, you know."

"Maybe, but I like to bounce." Kessel's gravity, lower than that of most wo rlds where humans settled, had given her the opportunity to make some extra ordinarily high leaps on the short walk from the Fal-con to this building.

Not that bounding had anything to do with her desire to go out-side.

* * *

Quietly, so as not to alert the Calrissians, Nien Nunb, or any of the oc-cas ionally glimpsed members of the skeleton crew Lando had on duty in the build ing, Allana led the droids down corridors that were so echoingly empty and d imly lit that they all but had signs pointing out that they were off-limits to little girls. Eventually, she found a hatch exit to the exterior, and mom ents later she stepped out into the brac-ing chill of Kessel's atmosphere. "

Time to bounce," she announced.

"As we are rather ill suited to bouncing, and even more poorly en-gineered t o land in a nondamaging fashion, I believe that Artoo and I will simply watc h from a safe distance."

Allana shrugged. She began moving in a straight line away from the main bu ilding, sometimes running with long steps, sometimes jump-ing for the fun of it, always heading away from the perceptions of adults. Soon her shoes and the lower parts of her pant legs were cov-ered in the white powder tha t seemed to be everywhere.

Now it was time to do as Leia had begun to teach her, to open her mind and feelings. It was hard for her, because she had always had rea-son and usual ly encouragement to stay bottled up. Sometimes her life had depended on it.

Scary people were less likely to sense weakness or fear if you remained bo ttled up.

The ground ahead and to the left was darker. She changed direction to head that way, and soon found herself at the edge of what looked like a series o f stone outcroppings, jagged brown rocks protruding from the white dust. Th e ground was jumbled, rising and falling.

This area wasn't pretty, but it was better than more white sand. Cautiously

, she moved out among the broken stones.

"Miss Ameeeeeelia . . ."she heard C-3PO cry plaintively. She turned and sa w the golden droid, R2-D2 beside him, a couple of hundred meters back.

She waved to them, as though she welcomed their presence and had absolutely n o intention of keeping clear of them, then headed farther into the outcrop pings, picking up her pace.

Deeper in, the rocks were taller, some as tall as she was. She grace-fully moved among them and soon was completely out of sight of the droids.

Occa sionally she would hear C-3PO calling or R2-D2 tweet-ling, and she would e xtend a hand above the level of the rocks, wave, and shout—then immediatel y head off to some other spot.

After a few minutes, she became aware of something not too far away. It felt different from people and animals; it was a stillness, unlike anything she had felt before. Cautious, she headed toward it, moving as quietly as she co uld.

A few dozen meters later, the ground became white and flat again. She moved out into an oval clearing surrounding a building. It was not tall, barely tw ice her height, and since the clearing was in a depres-sion in the ground, s he doubted that its slightly peaked roof would poke up above the surrounding rocks.

It was made of gray-white stone. It had four walls and was not large enough to be a house—perhaps more the size of a storage shed. She circled it and found that there were no viewports, just beveled depres-sions in the stone suggesting where viewports might someday be cut out, and no door, though on the west face the outlines of a door had been incised in the solid stone.

The edges of the bevels and incisions, the corners of the walls and roof we re worn and rounded, giving the building the impression of tremendous age.

Allana took a deep breath. This was a storage shed of a sort—a stor-age she d for dead people. A tomb. It did not need a working door or viewports, but whoever had constructed it had given it the semblance of such things, as i f the dead needed them.

Dead things did not worry her, but she had seen, when she was not supposed to be awake, parts of many holodramas in which dead things in tombs turned out not to be dead after all, and it took brave, rogu-ish heroes with big b lasters to save the day. She shrugged. Grandpa Han was a brave, roguish her o with a big blaster, but he wasn't here, so she had to make sure she didn'

t cause any trouble she couldn't han-dle herself.

Why had she felt this place? Grandma Leia said the Force was an energy of li ving things, and there would be nothing living in the tomb. She reached out toward it with her senses, again feeling that oppres-sive stillness.

And then the stillness was no longer still. She felt something stir-ring withi n. Not life, just motion—energy. She froze in place, willing herself to become as small and as still as possible.

It waited, whatever it was, on the other side of that wall, waited with a sti llness that matched hers. In the distance, Allana could hear C-3PO calling fo r her, and she desperately wished that she was with the droids.

She took a slow step backward. The thing in the tomb did not react. She too k another, and another, and bumped into the rough sur-face of a rock outcro pping, and still nothing came bursting out of the tomb. Barely breathing, s he moved into the outcroppings, not even beginning to relax until the tomb was out of sight.

I can feel you.

The words crept quietly into her mind. Allana almost shrieked.

They were not from the tomb. She stared up into the pinkish sky, seeing onl y the distant sun and a sliver of the former garrison moon. The thought cam e from there.

Who is there? I felt you. Please . . . please . . . There was such a yearn-i ng desperation to the words, such a hunger, that Allana wanted to reply, wan ted to reassure whoever was there. But caution and fear and a hundred lesson s she had learned at her mother's knee kept her from doing so.

What is your name? The question sent a tingle of dread down Allana's spine

. She had the eerie sensation that if she responded, if she of-fered her n ame, it would be snatched away and never returned, leaving her to wander f orever not knowing who she was. She hugged herself for warmth and, keeping her head low, reined her senses in.

The voice did not return, and a couple of minutes later Allana no longer felt a ny hint of it. She breathed a sigh of relief.

She almost bumped into C-3PO. As she rounded a particularly wide stone ris e, he was suddenly there, splendidly metallic and mod-ern, R2-D2
beside hi m. The astromech whistled a musical greeting, sounding not at all perturbe d.

"Miss Amelia! You really mustn't go off alone."

She nodded and, not slowing, began heading back toward where she thought the mine buildings must be. "I know, I know."

C-3PO hurried to keep up, the faint whining sound of his arm and leg servos increasing as he did so. "Thank the maker you're unhurt. If I'd had to rep ort to Master Han and Mistress Leia that you had come to some harm, I'm sur e I'd find myself doomed to an eternity of open-ing ale bottles in the filt hiest taproom in Coruscant's sublevels—"

"You keep talking about a maker. Who made you?"

"Actually, I don't quite recall. But I was made, so the existence of my mak er is beyond question. And since I consider my existence to be a good thing

, he was without a doubt benevolent and forward think-ing."

"I guess."

* * *

In a large natural cave, one with several tunnels splitting off at various an gles, Leia studied the sensor board, considered their options, and shook her head. She pointed straight up. "That way."

Han looked up as though he could see through both the speeder's opaque roof and the impenetrable darkness, then turned his attention to the sensors. The y showed a recess in the ceiling, one that could eas-ily be interpreted just as a natural depression in the rock. But Leia had sensed otherwise. Han put the speeder into a careful vertical ascent.

The cleft was easily wide enough to accommodate the speeder at its base, bu t it narrowed, becoming a not-quite-straight chimney of sorts. As they rose

, something bumped onto the roof, then scrambled free with a skittering noi se. Han froze for a moment, then realized it could not have been one of the energy spiders—a spider would have attacked rather than fled.

Twenty meters up, the chimney widened into a broad cave, one that sloped d ownward to the southwest. At Leia's nod, he put the speeder on a slow, gen tle course down that decline.

Leia returned her attention to the sensor board, where topographic lines, con stantly changing, showed the irregularities of the channel they were followin g. "I swear, this is all natural caves and tunnels. Worn by water."

"Do you think Kessel had more water once upon a time?"

She shook her head. "I think Kessel used to be a chunk of some other planet

, a much bigger one, with seas and a thicker atmosphere. The life-forms we know of here, the spiders and the avians, must have developed at that time—can you imagine a big avian developing on this world, with an atmosphere so thin they can barely fly? But then some calamity destroyed that world, and the chunk that became Kessel is all that remains of it."

"Maybe the rest of the debris fell into the Maw."

The tunnel they followed continued laterally and downward for several kilom eters. It was a winding course but remained broad, clearly the remains of a long-dead underground river. Eventually, Leia spot-ted signs on the sensor screen of fissures, vertical cracks in the rock. They shone the speeder he adlights on those spots and saw that the breaks in the rock were far more r ecent than the surrounding stone. "Groundquakes," Han said.

As if in response, an ominous vibration filled the air. Small rocks dislodge d themselves from the tunnel roof overhead and began clat-tering down all ar ound the speeder and onto its roof. The rumbling, like the galaxy's largest giant tucking into a big bowl full of boulders for his breakfast, did not di minish—it intensified, the rocks crashing down onto the speeder growing from pebble-sized to fist-sized to head-sized. Han kept his hands tight on the y oke, knuckles white, ready to duck one way or another if he had enough warni ng of dis-aster.

The flooring beneath them gave way. The speeder's repulsors, set to maintai n an altitude of a meter above the ground, were not strong enough.

Han, Lei a, and their vehicle dropped into pitch blackness, with more stones and bou lders following them.

* * *

CITY OF DOR'SHAN, DORIN

Luke could tell that Ben was finding the temple of the Baran Do both alien and comfortably familiar. The decor was characteristic of the Kel Dors, a c onstant barrage of symbols and metaphors stylistically repre-senting their natural surroundings and forces of nature, but the chambers had obvious pur poses he instantly understood. Training halls. Classrooms. Meditation rooms

. Dining halls. It all operated on a much smaller scale than the Jedi Templ e; Luke did not ask Tistura Paan, their student guide, but estimated that t here were perhaps six Masters here and no more than twenty students of vari ous ranks.

The combat training hall was comparatively small and very lightly equipped

. Staves rested on weapon racks; padded body armor hung on wall hooks.

The re were padded mats on the floor for practice. The hall could accommodate perhaps two sets of sparring pairs at a time.

Ben asked Tistura Paan, "Don't all your students train in combat?"

"No. The Baran Do are not a militant order like the Jedi."

"We're not that militant."

She offered him a smile, showing her grinding palates. "You all study fight ing. That's militant. Our role is one of advice and advance warning. The fi rst Baran Do were village seers who had a heightened weather sense and coul d warn their fellows of impending storms. Over the centuries, they and thei r descendants corresponded with one an-other, exchanging techniques and phi losophies. The best became per-sonal advisers to the rulers of our kind. Ev entually the order became a scholarly one, collecting and cataloging knowle dge of the arts and sci-ences, as well as of the ways of the Force."

They passed through an angled archway into a meditation chamber furnished only with small circular mats on the floor. The chamber had no viewports a nd the walls were a soothing, rough-textured gray-white, like the inside o f a cloud.

Luke asked, "I've been assuming, but did not ask yesterday, that Master Pl o Koon was once a member of your order."

Tistura Paan nodded. She sat on one of the foam circles and, by gesture, in vited Luke and Ben to do likewise. They complied. She said, "Over the centu ries, many of the Koon family have been Baran Do. The Force runs strong in that line, as, it is said, in the Skywalker line. It is said of Plo Koon th at he never grew weary of living among oxy-gen breathers, of having to cope with claustrophobic masks and strange faces. Me, I would grow weary of it within weeks or months."

Ben tapped the transparisteel mask over his own face. "I know how you feel

."

"Your father will be instructed by Master Tila Mong in the hassat-durr tech nique, which I understand you are not learning. Would you like to get in so me fighting practice?"

"You promise not to yank my mask off this time?"

"No promises."

"Oh, well. Sure."

Once the two were gone, Luke did not have long to wait. Tila Mong entered, g estured for Luke not to rise, and sat on a pad oppo-site his.

"One Master to another," she said. "You will not object to an accelerated course, devoid o f learning rituals and training artifacts?"

"That would be most agreeable."

"Well, then. The technique you asked to learn is the ayna-seff technique of t he hassat-durr family. In our language, the term hassat-durr means

'lightning rod.' "

"Why do you call it that?"

"Because if you are not absolutely perfect in your mastery of the technique and perform hassat-durr during a storm, you will be repeat-edly struck by li ghtning and killed."

Despite himself, Luke laughed. "You're kidding. Right?"

She shook her head. "The hassat-durr techniques suffuse your body with a very low level of electromagnetic radiation. You produce the radiation as an inte raction between the Force and your own men-tal influence over your central ne rvous system. The energies a student produces early in his study of the techn ique attract lightning much like a lightning rod. It is for this reason that this skill, like that of disman-tling high explosives, is best perfected befo re it is ever attempted in the field."

"Other than scrambling brain scans and permitting a rather difficult-to-solv e form of suicide by lightning, what do the other hassat-durr techniques do?

"

"They can disable one's own prosthetics and electronic implants, can interf ere with shock shackles, can cause one to be perceived by an-imal senses as something terrible or something inoffensive, and can allow one to act as a very effective range-boosting antenna for comlinks. And there are other us es."

From a pocket in her robes, she drew out two objects. One looked like an ord inary sphere of durasteel-gray metal about four centimeters in diameter. The other was a flat plate of the same material; it had a rimmed depression tha t was clearly intended to accommodate the ball. An insulated cable was attac hed to the edge of the plate. About a meter long, it ended in an clastic str ap with an electrical lead embed-ded in it.

She set the plate down in front of Luke, put the ball in the depres-sion, and handed him the elastic band. "Please attach that to your hand, placing the l ead in your palm."

Luke began to comply, then thought better of it and put the strap on his fles h hand instead of the prosthetic one.

"This device," Tila Mong said, "is a simple teaching tool. It is at-tuned to the precise intensities and frequencies of electromagnetic energy produced by someone correctly practicing the ayna-seff tech-nique."

"How, by the way, does ayna-seff translate?"

"Dead brain."

Luke grinned. "You Baran Do have very practical naming conven-tions."

"Our artistic senses lean toward the tactile and visual, not verbal. For us, le arning Basic is always a ritual of discovery of colorful adjec-tives and breath taking arrays of synonyms. Anyway, your first step is to learn to channel energ ies that will cause the ball to lift off the plate."

Luke looked at the ball. He allowed himself to sink into a medita-tive state.

He resisted the urge to push at the ball with the Force; he could certainly li ft it telekinetically, but that would not benefit his training. Instead, one b y one, he cycled through all the Force tech-niques he had learned, not utilizi ng them but putting himself in the mental state required by each.

Half a minute later, as he prepared for a technique that caused holocams br iefly to go to static, a method by which Jedi could bypass many security se tups, the ball sprang up and began spinning, bobbing up and down between te n and twenty centimeters above the plate.

Tila Mong nodded. "Well, that's about eight weeks of apprentice training by passed."

"But that's only the first stage. What are the others?"

"You learn to stop the ball from spinning. That means you have found the ex act form of energy necessary for the dead brain technique. You learn to mai ntain the ball at an altitude of about one centimeter. That means you have found the correct amount of energy to exert, an amount that makes it hard f or any but the most delicate and most correctly attuned devices to discover that there is any anomaly in your electromagnetic energy output.

And you l earn to sustain the output without tiring yourself—for days, weeks, or even longer."

"Is this how Jacen Solo learned the technique from Koro Ziil?"

Immediately, something shut down in Tila Mong's mind.

Luke wasn't sure whether someone who was not a Jedi Master would have noti ced it. He wasn't even sure most Masters would have detected it. But somet hing, the equivalent of a durasteel vault door, slid shut within Tila Mong

's consciousness.

Her face and manner betrayed no sign of it. She just said, "Yes."

"How long did it take him?"

"As I recall, about three days."

Luke smiled. "It's very un-Jedi-like of me, but I want to break his record."

Chapter Sixteen

CALRISSI AN-NUN B MINES, KESSEL

"WHERE'S UNCLE HAN?" CHANCE, SITTING BESIDE ALLANA at the gleaming white cafeteria table, rhythmically kicked the underside of the tab letop.

"Not back yet." Allana paid him no attention. Her gaze was on Tendra and La ndo, who sat alone at an adjacent table, whispering ur-gently to each other

.

She glared at them. While Nanna prepared dinner in the adjoining, cavernou sly empty personnel kitchen, Nien Nunb waited in the communications room for a call from Han and Leia, and Chance was busy being a toddler. The Cal rissians, it was clear, were discussing the Solos'

fate but not doing anyt hing about it.

Allana spoke in tones so low they couldn't hear her. "They're not dead, you kn ow. I'd have felt it."

"Where's Aunt Leia?"

"Not back yet."

Chance's kicks grew more energetic. Allana felt like joining him in punishin g the table. Finally, she raised her voice. "Why don't we go looking for the m?"

Lando and Tendra looked her way. Lando flashed her a smile she knew was s upposed to be reassuring. She resented him for it.

"We're not sure that it would do any good at the moment, sweetie," he told he r. "We're trying to figure out what to do next."

"We should just go down there and look. I'm really good at look-ing"

She saw Lando suppress a shudder. "Amelia, do you know what a transceive r is?"

She nodded. "It's like a comlink, except you talk into comlinks, and you don't talk into all transceivers."

"Right. Your mommy and daddy are carrying several transceivers, some of wh ich they don't even know about. In their speeder, in their equipment."

"I know about tracking devices, too." She shot him a suspicious look. "You put tracking devices on them."

"Of course! Comm signals don't go very far in the mines. They don't go thro ugh stone. So I had special transceivers put in their gear that communicate with the seismic sensors we've got all over the tun-nels. A while ago, aft er we stopped receiving signals and we had that groundshake, your aunt Tend ra and I did go down to look."

"Why didn't you tell me? I would have gone with you."

"Yeah . . . Anyway, there's a lot of fallen stone between us and Han and Le ia right now. We have to dig through to them."

"And none of our miners are here right now," Tendra added. "Most of them a re away on paid leave. We've sent out word asking for volunteers."

"Well, until they get here, we can—"

"We can stay here," Lando said, sounding stern for the first time in the conv ersation. He fixed her with a stare, and when she did not reply, he turned ba ck to Tendra.

"I could find them," Allana whispered.

"What's that, Miss Amelia?" C-3PO, dithering beside R2-D2 on the other side of the table, leaned forward as if it would help his au-dioreceptors to pi ck up her words.

She gave the droid a resentful look. "Nothing."

R2-D2 tweetled, a lengthy statement for him. Allana glanced at C-3PO for a translation.

The protocol droid leaned toward her again. "He says he approves very high ly of adventuresome young girls being adventuresome young girls. But not t his time."

Allana sighed.

* * *

NINTH HALL OF JUSTICE, CORUSCANT

She was the same Falleen judge who had handed down Luke Sky-walker's senten ce, and she was identically impassive now. "It is the de-termination of thi s court that Jedi Valin Horn is not competent to stand trial for his action s in the above-named suit."

At the back of the chamber, standing among the handful of Jedi who had been allowed into the packed courtroom, Jaina heaved a sigh of relief. This was good news. Valin would not be going to trial after all.

The judge's next words shattered her misapprehension. "This court has furthe r determined that the defendant, because of the extra-ordinarily dangerous n ature of his abilities and the overt criminality of his mental illness, is t oo dangerous to be confined in any conventional facility. For this reason, h e will be detained through carbonite impris-onment until such time as—"

Her words might as well have been an unexpected reversal in a cru-cial bolo-ball game. Suddenly half the observers in the court were on their feet, the Jedi and friends of the Jedi among them shouting protests, the press standin g tall or even getting up on benches the bet-ter to holorecord the proceedin gs. Nawara Ven, alone at the defen-dant's table, was roaring to make himself be heard above the crowd: "Your Honor, this is an outrageous violation of m y client's rights, of the rights of all citizens—"

The judge pressed a button on her bench. A musical note like a nautical shi p's warning bell sounded through the chamber; it was just loud enough to be painful to those with normal hearing. As the shouts continued, she pressed it again and again, each time creating a louder tone, until all the chambe r was silent, most of those present covering their ears or tympanic membranes.

The judge glanced around the chamber, her expression cool. "Would everyon e who desires a month in jail on a charge of contempt of court please spe ak up?"

No one spoke. Few were even daring enough to lower their hands from their ears.

The judge gestured for everyone to sit. All did except those who, like Jaina

, had found no empty seats.

"To continue, he will be detained through carbonite imprisonment until such t ime as a treatment for his condition, based on evaluation of his test data, c an be determined. He will be brought out of carbonite stasis at intervals, as new and relevant tests, as well as periodic mental evaluations, are ordered.

He will be brought out not less often than twice per standard year regardles s of test and evaluation concerns.

“That concludes this hearing." Her movements brisk, perhaps irri-tated, she rose. The advocates and onlookers did, as well. When she was gone, voices er upted again, this time the press hurling questions at the advocates, the Jed i, and the Horns.

Jaina ignored the heartfelt but irrelevant complaints of the Jedi around h er.

She watched Corran and Mirax Horn embracing in their shared misery, wa tched as the forbidding stare of Master Saba Sebatyne kept the members of the press from approaching them, watched as Nawara Ven sat again at of the press from approaching them, watched as Nawara Ven sat again at his ta ble, slumped in temporary defeat, shoulders knotted in frustration and ang er.

And she was struck by a sense of foreboding. They're all killers, she though t. Jedi and combat pilots and smugglers, killers all, who waged war for the New Republic or who killed to stop the Yuuzhan Vong. The government is turni ng this situation into a war, and the people they're offending, beneath the surface, are killers. Myself included. This can't end well.

* * *

UNEXPLORED DEPTHS, KESSEL

The speeder plummeted into darkness. The underside almost immedi-ately sla mmed into a slab of rock angled at about forty-five degrees to their desce nt. The repulsors, over-revving themselves to compensate, bounced the spee der away from the slab and flipped it. In the beams of the headlights, Han saw rocks seemingly spin around him as the speeder rolled.

He clicked the repulsors off the standard setting and brought them up toward full strength, trying to slow the speeder's descent and even-tually hover.

Then Leia shouted something he didn't understand. She was staring upward and he could feel more than see the immense shelf of rock falling into the shaf t after them.

He killed the repulsors and fired the thrusters, rocketing the speeder straig ht down the shaft. In the spare second he had before fur-ther action was requ ired, he flipped the repulsors to collision reduc-tion, a forward projection that would reduce the severity of the crash when they hit.

They entered a huge cavern—or perhaps a tunnel, for it was of an almost con stant diameter, more than a hundred meters, and there were faint glows to t he right and left. He flipped over to normal flight mode and rolled to star board. The sensors screamed that a collision with the floor was imminent—

He'd almost managed to pull out of the dive when the front por-tions of the speeder smashed into the stone floor. They hit at an oblique angle, a life saving circumstance. The impact was powerful, slamming the two of them forw ard in their restraints, but the speeder continued forward, bouncing like a flat stone being skipped across a pond.

The repulsors kicked off. The speeder hit again, jarring Han's spine, and bo unced up again in Kessel's low gravity. Then it hit a third time and stayed down, skidding forward for another forty meters or more.

They stopped, but the thundering noise of descending stone didn't. Well beh ind them, an avalanche of rocks, boulders, and billow-ing dust poured out o f the ceiling, creating an enormous hill directly beneath the hole through which they had fallen.

Hurried but detached, Han went through his emergency checklist. Leia: unhurt

, unstrapping herself, checking for her lightsaber. Himself: minor pains in neck and arms, nothing significant. Control board: dark. Sensors: off.

Odors

: recycled air, nothing toxic. No sign that the recyclers were still functio ning.

He let out his breath for the first time since the floor had dropped away. He unstrapped. "Be ready to run in case more of the ceiling drops."

She gave him a look no other person could have interpreted—half appreciatio n for his concern, half aggravation that he was telling her things she was already prepared to do.

The air around them dimmed as the outer edges of the dust cloud rolled ove r them. But the noise of the avalanche diminished. A few mo-ments later, i t was reduced to the sound of an occasional rock tumbling onto the later, i t was reduced to the sound of an occasional rock tumbling onto the mound, and stony grumbling as the mound itself settled.

Carefully, quietly, Han and Leia emerged from the speeder. There was no pop of the atmosphere seal breaking as they did so; the speeder's frame must hav e twisted, ruining seal integrity, during their crash.

Leia found a powerful glow lamp in the jumble of equipment in the backseat

. She snapped it on and played it toward the cavern ceiling. Though weak a t this range, the beam showed that the hole in the ceil-ing was no more; i t was plugged by jagged chunks of stone, some of them weighing dozens or h undreds of tons.

"Great," Han said. He moved to the front of the speeder and opened the en gine compartment.

"Hey, any landing you can walk away from is a good one," Leia said.

He offered a derisive snort. "That's survivor talk. A pilot says, any landing y ou can't fly away from is a failure."

"You did all right."

"I know I did. It was this archaic piece of junk that let us down." He shook his head over the state of the engine and slammed the com-partment closed.

Then he gave the side of the speeder a savage kick.

"That good."

"Yeah. I hope you like walking, lady."

"Han, you may have noticed, in the distance, some light sources?"

"Probably phosphorescent lures of an infinite number of giant car-nivorous t unnel beetles."

She laughed at him, then began pulling equipment from the back-seat.

"Let's gear up for a hike."

* * *

Half an hour later, they looked out over a new and different world.

It was the source of the light they had seen down the tunnel past the mound of fallen stone; Leia had judged it to be closer, so they had headed in that direction. The walk had been easy. Though they had all but emptied the gear from the speeder and Han had taken turret gun grenades besides, in Kessel's gravity the sixty or so kilos of gear he was packing was a comparatively co mfortable load.

The approach to the point where lofting tunnel met vast cavern was a rise; Han and Leia had to clamber up a steep climb of stone some three meters hig h before they could look into the cavern beyond.

The size of a city, the cavern was lined with great blocks of manu-factured equipment, each block the size of a human habitation; some were as large as three-level houses, some the size of ten-story apart-ment buildings, and all were thick with colored lights, some constant, some blinking regularly or i ntermittently. The faces of the equipment blocks were broken down into recta ngles of different colors of metal, but at this distance Han could not tell whether they were merely dec-orative touches or if the rectangles were acces s hatches.

In addition to the indicators on the equipment, there was light from above and below. The ceiling of the chamber had patches of greenish material, pos sibly organic, that exuded a soft blue-green glow. The floor was bare of eq uipment and was littered, though not thickly, with greenish round-capped fu ngi, some of which stood taller than Han. Light from all these sources blen ded together into the dim, pale glow Han and Leia had seen from so far away.

The vista of machinery, fungi, and cavern walls went on as far as the eye co uld see—kilometers at least.

Leia reached over and gently pressed up on Han's jaw under his breath mask, closing his mouth. "Lando has no idea what he's sitting on, does he?"

Han shook his head. "If all of this shut down tomorrow, just the scrap valu e would make him a richer man. But what's it for?"

"Let's find out." Hitching up her pack, she walked down into the cavern.

* * *

They divided their duties naturally and without discussion. Leia inves-tigat ed the machinery. Han kept his eye out for predatory life-forms.

Within a few minutes' walk, they reached the first bank of machin-ery on the right-hand sloping wall of the cavern. First in their path was a cabinet-like structure the size of a warehouse. Its panels, mostly black, gleamed with wh at looked like thousands of small rectangular lights.

Leia put her hands on her hips and stared up at the thing. "Where to start?

"

"Something's powering it. If it doesn't have some sort of internal reactor, t here's probably a series of cables entering it somewhere. And unless it's doi ng whatever it does in isolation, it's receiving or sending data—by cable, by broadcast, somehow."

At nearly ground level, a bogey emerged from the face of the ma-chine. It ho vered there, a few meters from Han and Leia, and emitted a faint chittering noise, like a whole colony of curious insects.

"Or maybe I have no idea what I'm talking about," Han said.

* * *

CITY OF DOR'SHAN, DORIN

Fresh from the Jade Shadow's sanisteam and dressed in a clean robe, Ben jo ined his father in the main cabin. Dinner consisted of prepack-aged meals heated in the yacht's tiny pulse oven, but Ben was all right with that; th e nerf loaf, tuber mash, and seasoned greens in the indi-vidual compartmen ts of the tray reminded him of food from home— bad food from home.

"So," his father said. "What did you learn today?"

"A little bit about the difference between the way skinny limbs with dense, leather muscles move compared with human arms and legs. That's about it. Oh, and you know that thing where the sages decide that it's time to die, and t hey just will themselves to do it?"

Luke nodded.

"One of the Baran Do Masters has decided to do that. Charsae Saal, the sen ior combat instructor. He worked with Tistura Paan and me today."

"Did you talk to him about it?"

Ben nodded. "I didn't, you know, just blurt it out, Why have you de-cided t o die? or anything like that. But Tistura Paan had some ques-tions about hi s ceremony tomorrow. She was pretty sad. She was his special student. He ga ve her a datacard with his memoirs and instruc-tion manuals on it. He'd jus t finished it."

"What did you ask him?"

"Well, I said that from the human perspective, it was always sad when a g ood person died, when he took his knowledge with him. He said he was leav ing his knowledge behind. I asked if he had family, and he said he would be seeing them again someday, by which I took it he meant they were alrea dy dead."

"He plans to die tomorrow."

Ben nodded.

Luke frowned.

"What?"

"Turn of phrase." But Luke said no more on the subject.

"What did you learn today, Dad?"

"I learned to make a ball float at a constant altitude, but not to make it be stil l."

"You had an exciting day."

"I also learned that there's something about Jacen's visit here, or about th e former Master of the sages, that Tila Mong doesn't want me to know. That w as probably the hidden thought I kept feeling last night."

"Once you've figured out the scanner-blanking technique and you've pried al l of Tila Mong's secrets out, where are we going next?"

Luke shrugged. "We'll have to take that as we come to it."

Chapter Seventeen

UNEXPLORED DEPTHS, KESSEL

HAN WATCHED LEIA AS, UNAFRAID, SHE APPROACHED THE BOGEY.

Unlike the previous one, this creature did not retreat at her approach, but h ung in the air as if watching her.

She came within a meter of it and still it did not move, though its chittering grew louder and the lights within it swirled even faster.

"Leia, be careful. . ." Torn between a need to know what was hap-pening wit h his wife and an equally strong need to know they were not being crept up on, Han kept switching his attention from the tableau with the bogey to the surrounding machinery and field of fungi.

"I don't sense any hostile intent. Or, for that matter, any life." Leia raised a hand as if to touch the bogey.

Her hand penetrated its outer boundaries. Colorful lights swirled around her fingers as if they were the center of some new maelstrom. Leia's hair rose, standing on end, and a crackling noise joined the chit-tering Han heard. "L
eia, keep talking."

"It's all right, I'm not hurt." There was some strain to her voice, as if she were making an effort of exertion or concentration. "It's . . . it's ..."

"What?" Han heard a note that was almost a yelp in his voice.

"A datacard." She swayed backward, almost falling, and the action broke her contact with the bogey. Abruptly, it zoomed away, straight up.

Han put a hand on Leia's shoulder to steady her. He watched the bogey ascend

. Several moments later, it hit the ceiling and vanished into the rock there

. Han breathed a sigh of relief.

Leia straightened, shaking her head to clear it. "That was . . . inter-esting."

"What did you mean, it was a datacard?"

"That was what it reminded me of. I think that was something like its functio n. I could sense a reservoir of energy within it, and the abil-ity to communi cate, and a big store of data . . . fresh data. From this device, I think." S
he gestured at the building-sized cabinet. "I saw a three-dimensional pattern of, I don't know what to call them, intensi-ties. Thousands. Millions.

It ha d a mission, an intent to go somewhere and deliver the data. There was someth ing else, too. A sense of futil-ity."

"You got a lot out of that contact."

"Its whole purpose is communication. Not with me, not with any-thing like u s. It helped a lot that I was trying to do what it was meant to do. I need to find another one. A lot more of them. Learn more from each one." Energet ic again, she set off at a brisk walk along the row of immense cabinets, ho lding her right arm out as she did as if to wave more bogeys out of the mac hines she passed.

Han shook his head and followed.

* * *

Han saw things on that walk, some of which were fascinating and some of wh ich he'd prefer not to have seen.

There was animal life in the cavern, moving among the fungi. He cataloged a t least two different species of centipede-like creatures, one about a mete r long and green, the other about two meters long and a dangerous-looking r ed and yellow. Both species had vicious-looking stingers at their tail ends. He saw the larger centipedes attack, sting, and eat the smaller ones.

He also saw small avian things, like miniature hawk-bats, swoop upon both s pecies of centipedes and snatch things from their backs. Only when he drew out his macrobinoculars and trained them on one of those flying attacks did he realize that the avian was taking young centipedes riding on the backs of the older ones.

The fungi were also prey to animal life. Some looked chewed on around the pe riphery of their caps. But others had defenses. When a green centipede went crawling across the cap of one of the fungi, the cap collapsed, rolling up o n itself and trapping the centipede within. That fungus did not unroll in al l the time it took Han to walk out of sight of it, and he did not care to th ink about the digestive processes now going on within it. He just vowed not to touch any fungus caps as he passed them.

Two kilometers into the hike, he saw the energy spider. He stopped abruptly, the air leaving his lungs. Leia must have sensed his distress; she turned t o look at him, then followed his gaze.

Seventy meters away, its body the size of an airspeeder, it rose from within a tall clump of fungi, glassy and transparent, at least fifteen legs on a side, formidable pincers up front.

Its head swiveled as it surveyed its surroundings. Slowly, so as not to attrac t attention, Han slid the slugthrowing rifle off his shoulder strap, lowering it to the ground, and put his hands on the grenade launcher. He'd start with a decoy grenade; if that didn't work, he'd switch to high explosives, then go t o the rifle if the spider got nearer.

The spider took a couple of steps in Han's direction, clambering up on an espe cially large fungus as if to get some altitude to see better.

Then it settled down on the fungus cap. The skin of the fungus be-neath its body began to turn black, withering away.

"It's eating fungus," Leia said. "That's not very aggressive. You do that."

"It's different." Now that his initial burst of panic was subsiding, Han coul d see that there were differences between this creature and the energy spider he had seen, the ones he had read about in Nien Nunb's communiques. Instead of being blue, with little flares of light glistening within its transpariste el-like skin, this one was more of a crimson color. Its legs were not festoon ed with all the claws and blades the spice spiders possessed.

And, of course, it was not charging at him.

"A related species. Maybe herbivorous." Leia remained irritatingly unafraid.

"Maybe omnivorous, and willing to add a couple of humans to its snack list."

Han reshouldered his rifle. "C'mon, let's get out of here. Maybe it's an ou t-of-sight, out-of-mind predator."

"All right."

They moved on, Han keeping a sharp eye on the spider. But it never rose from the perch it was feeding upon, never turned their way. It did not even pay attention to the centipedes moving across the tops of adjacent fungi, and re alizing that, only then was Han half certain the thing had to be disinterest ed in animal life.

Another kilometer farther on, Leia made a noise of surprise. An-other bogey emerged, this one from a silver-gray structure the size of the building wh ere the Solos kept their quarters on Coruscant. It had a darker color schem e, its lights a more muted arrangement of violets and reds.

The noise it ma de was quite musical, like a harp being played by a Kowakian monkey-lizard.

Leia did not hesitate, but approached it and brushed her hand across its outer nimbus. Again she crackled with static electricity; again her hair stood out in a display that suggested electrocution.

out in a display that suggested electrocution.

"Start talking, Princess. I need to know you're not unconscious on your feet.

"

"Looking," she said, her tone distant. "Variables. Unimaginable numbers of them. Maintaining."

"Maintaining what?" Reluctantly, Han turned his back on Leia and the bogey, once again keeping guard against the sea of fungi and the life-forms withi n it.

"I don't know . . . The data will be lost. Cycle ending, cycle wind-ing down.

"

That had an ominous sound to it. But Han was distracted by some-thing in t he distance. If they were following a north-south wall—and he had no reaso n to believe they were, for the speeder's sensors were long gone, but he c alled it north-south because he had to call it some-thing of his own

—then off at an angle, maybe a kilometer away due northwest, there was something in the middle of the fungus field. It looked like a mound of—he wasn't su re. Steel barrels, lashed together, like an improvised fuel dump in a wart ime encampment.

"Centerpoint . . . Oh." Leia gasped. Han turned to see her stagger-ing back, the musical bogey disappearing into the stone at their feet.

Han grabbed her, held her upright while she recovered. "Why did you say C
enterpoint?"

"I saw Centerpoint Station! As clear as a holo." Her eyes darted back and fo rth as she reviewed what she'd just experienced. "Han, that image I had befo re, the millions of random intensities?"

"Yeah?"

"Gravity wells, I'm sure of it. A galaxy's worth of gravity wells."

"Huh. Is this thing one gigantic astronomical observatory?"

"Maybe." She straightened, recovered, but did not break his em-brace. "But for what purpose?"

"Centerpoint Station was all about gravity. Its super-tractor-beam was grav itic in nature." Han glanced along the seemingly endless row of machinery.

"Could this be from the same makers? The so-called Ce-lestials? It doesn't look that old."

"Neither did Centerpoint."

Han gestured at the distant mound of barrels. "Something differ-ent to look a t."

"Let's eat first. Communing with energy blobs is hard work."

* * *

Half an hour later, fortified by travel rations, they reached the mound.

Traveling through the fungus forest to get there had not been safe. Most of the life-forms fled at their approach, but the red-and-yellow centipedes wer e aggressive and fast moving. Fortunately, they were also loud, skittering f orward with all the subtlety of a two-year-old fly-ing a speeder bike. Han s hot two before they approached closer than ten meters, and Leia cut one in h alf with her lightsaber when it reared up over the fungus ahead of them.

And then they were there, at the foot of the apparatus Han had seen.

It rested on a disk of something like durasteel, six meters in diame-ter and a meter thick. Rising from that was a central pole with something like a br oad sensor antenna stretching out from it. The antenna was curved like a dis h; given the way it was situated, Han was certain it was meant to rotate.

Pi led up against the back of the dish, strapped to it by metal cabling, were t he numerous barrel-like objects he had seen, each large enough to hold a ful l-grown bantha. The whole struc-ture towered some fifteen meters into the air.

Leia looked at him. He shrugged. "You got me."

"I—hey!" Leia's deactivated lightsaber suddenly stretched out toward the appa ratus, as if leaping toward it, and she staggered in that direction.

So did Han. It was as though his weapons and backpack were sud-denly caug ht in a tractor beam, dragging him along.

Then the pull ceased. Resisting it, Han and Leia were abruptly stumbling in t he other direction.

Leia straightened. "Magnetic pulse. Why don't we, um—"

"Move back a ways, yeah."

They did so, observing the apparatus from what they felt was a safer distance

: thirty meters.

Han was unsurprised when a bogey emerged from the base of the apparatus. "

Call for you, sweetie," he said.

Leia shot him a half-amused look and approached the bogey.

"Ask it what the gizmo is for and if there are any good bars or clubs around here."

"Your sense of humor is returning—ah." She offered a little gasp as her ha nd came in contact with the bogey. Again her hair whipped up into an elect rocuted nimbus.

"Draw in," she said. "Push out. Deactivate. Next. Next. Next. Ac-celeration.

Interaction." Clearly pained, Leia kept up the contact.

"Leia—"

"Not now, Han. I can see the sequence. They're everywhere, it's huge.

Evalu ations almost complete, then terminus." Finally, she stag-gered back.

This time she did fall, sprawling on the mulchy cavern floor, eyes open but glaz ed.

"Leia!" Han knelt over her, torn between making sure she was un-hurt and kee ping a wary eye out for centipedes. He decided to rely on his ears for the l atter danger and bent over his wife.

She was panting, the meter on her breath mask indicating the increased deman ds on its processing, but her vision was clearing. She sat up almost as abru ptly as she had fallen. "We've got to go."

"Where?"

"The surface."

"I knew that already." A cold suspicion formed in Han's gut. "Why?"

"This cavern is going to blow up, and then another few, and then the rest all at once, and that's the end for Kessel."

* * *

As they ran, she explained. "That antenna-thing is an electromagnet. A super-electromagnet. When it starts spinning, it will yank the ma-chinery off the w alls and drag it all to itself."

"Not a chance. Across all those kilometers?"

"Han, the makers of this place might also have built Centerpoint Station. R
emember how powerful it was?" Centerpoint's gravitic trac-tor could, in the ory, move planets and suns; could collapse and destroy whole solar systems.

Han didn't miss its presence in the universe.

"Point taken. Super-destructive."

"No, that's only the start." They charged through the fungi toward the neare st wall, almost heedless of the dangers. Leia had her lightsaber in hand, an d twice had to cleave red-and-yellow centipedes as they struck at her.

Once they raced by a fungus with a crimson spi-der atop; they were ten meters pas t before the adrenaline hit Han and gave him a burst of speed, but the spide r did not follow.

"Those barrels are explosives," Leia continued. "I didn't get a sense of how they functioned, whether they're protonic or nuclear or something we don't even understand, but when all the machinery is encrusted onto the antenna, t hey blow up and incinerate it all. . . and collapse the cavern."

"Making getting out of here an especially good idea." They reached the cav ern wall and the banks of machinery they had already passed on the way in, and ran toward the entrance, still kilometers away. "How long before it h appens?"

"I don't know. Minutes?" Leia put on a burst of speed.

From long experience, Han knew that when a Jedi was running for her life, n ormal folk needed to try very hard to keep up.

* * *

The antenna, not visible until Han used his macrobinoculars, was al-ready spi nning by the time they reached the cavern entrance. As he watched, a piece of machinery the size of a small refueling station shiv-ered, tore itself off t he cavern wall, trailing cables and a field of debris, and rolled across the fungus forest, finally fetching up, deformed, against the antenna.

The antenna was not slowed by the gigantic apparatus now obscur-ing it.

Th e thing kept spinning, the huge machine spinning atop it. A moment later, when Han imagined that the antenna was pointing toward the cavern mouth, h e lurched forward, pulled by his backpack and metal gear. The pull wasn't strong enough to drag him back into the cavern, but it was exerting consid erable force.

Then the sensation passed as the antenna kept turning. "Got any ideas, lady?

"

"Yes." Leia shucked her backpack. From within it, she drew out a small ho locam, one that Lando had provided them. "Got any strapper tape in your b ag?"

"Leia, you're joking."

She shook her head. "I'm going to set it to record and transmit. If we can g et any visual images from this to take back to the surface, it might help pe rsuade Lando what's going on down here."

Han set his pack down and began rummaging through it. "What is going on down here?"

"Something caused the complex—and Han, the complex is planetwide—to end its sensor operations. Systematically, caverns have been self-destructing. The se explosions are tests, sort of proofs of con-cept, making sure that the a ncient program is still achievable."

"You got all that from kissing a glowing ball of light?"

She glared but nodded. "Because I asked direct, specific questions this tim e, I think. And because I'd gotten better at communicating with them throug h practice. Anyway, there are going to be a few more cav-erns blowing up as the tests come to an end. Then they'll blow all the remaining caverns in a sequence that will crack the world into pieces."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Han, Kessel has less than a week to live."

* * *

Leia got the holocam strapped into place on the stone wall, oriented more o r less toward the center of the cavern and set to maximum zoom. She set it to broadcast. Han confirmed that he was receiving its signal on the holocam in his own bag.

Then they ran, their great bounding, low-gravity steps carrying them rapidl y away from the source of the explosion to come.

"Got any idea how to get out of here?" Han asked between breaths.

Leia nodded. "Sensor leads up to the surface. Shafts concealed top-side, but I know what to look for down here. If we survive."

They passed the mound of rocks and then the wreckage of their speeder.

Han suddenly felt warmth on his back. He saw the tunnel walls all around an d ahead of him illuminated, the shadow of the rock mound cleaving the light into two halves. He grabbed Leia's hand and hauled her back, crashing with her to the stone floor just in front of the speeder.

A thunder like he had never known, and a howling wind driving stone and me tal roared past, rocking the wrecked vehicle.

* * *

Allana awoke, frightened out of a dream she couldn't remember. She pulled h er covers tighter around her and looked out the viewport. It showed only th e sky above Kessel: a glittering starfield, a sliver of a moon, an empty pa tch where the Maw was.

R2-D2, at the foot of her bed, offered a questioning tweetle. She wasn't sure exactly what he said, but she had a sense of it. "I don't know," she said. "Bu t it isn't good."

Three minutes later, after she lay down and tried to go back to sleep, the gr oundquake hit.

At first it was just a low rumbling and a sense of dread. She dis-tinctly he ard C-3PO say "Oh, dear" from an adjoining room.

Then there were crashes from throughout the building as items fell off shel ves and furniture toppled. The walls shook; dust filtered down from the til es overhead. Allana drew the covers over her head and clamped her hands ove r her ears, willing it all to go away. She desper-ately wanted to be in her own little bunk on the Falcon. She'd be safe there, even with Han and Leia gone. She liked Lando and Tendra, but they were almost strangers. She want ed to be with her family.

Before the rumbling had quite subsided, the door to her room crashed open and light sprang up, visible at the edges of and through her cover.

She fl ipped her blanket down and saw Lando, groggy and disheveled, wearing only sleep pants decorated with the insignia of Tendrando Arms.

His voice was n ot as smooth as usual. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Can I sleep on the Falcon from now on?"

He thought about it. "Yes, you can. In fact, I wish I could." He began to dra w the door closed.

"Good night, Uncle Lando."

"Good night, sweetie."

Chapter Eighteen

CITY OF DOR'SHAN, DORIN

THE CITY WAS OVERCAST AND VERY WINDY ON THE MORNING of Luke's second day of training. Ben could see that the Kel Dors on the streets were agitated; they walked briskly, said little to one another, and all bu t ignored the humans.

As they came within a block of the Baran Do temple, Ben learned why. A wai l, mechanical and unsettling, rose in the distance from sev-eral points in the city. Kel Dors immediately ran for nearby doorways and gateways. As f ar as Ben could tell, they were rushing to homes that were not their own; no one ran farther than two buildings from his or her current position, an d residents of those buildings were opening the outer doors and urging the m in as they arrived. Some waved for Luke and Ben to enter. A general anno uncement in the Kel Dor lan-guage sounded across both the Skywalkers'

coml inks.

Luke and Ben put on a burst of speed and rushed to the temple. Curiously, t he walls there were retracting into slots in the ground, leaving the estate seemingly undefended. Luke and Ben made it into the main building's antech amber, running past Tistura Paan, who was on front-door duty, peering outsi de and urging pedestrians in.

The general announcement switched to Basic, recited by a woman with a prono unced Corellian accent. "This is a general announcement. A force-four storm front is approaching the city of Dor'shan. All resi-dents and visitors sho uld seek shelter immediately. The storm is ap-proaching from the south and will be at the outskirts of Dor'shan within seven standard minutes. All spa ceport traffic is suspended for the duration of the storm event. A force-fo ur storm is characterized by winds of up to one hundred eighty kilometers p er hour, periodic fun-nel clouds in clusters, and rapid lightning strikes."

She hadn't mentioned rain, but outside the doors the sky was now almost bla ck, and sheeting rain descended as rapidly and unexpectedly as a giant foot

. One minute it was dry; the next, rain was hitting the pathway and street beyond so hard that drops seemed to explode upon contact. As Ben watched, t he roof of a landspeeder went spinning by as if hurled by a rancor.

Ben whistled. "You don't mess around with your storms, do you?"

Tistura Paan shook her head. "In the old days, the people only had the sage s to warn them of storms. Today there are weather stations and satellites, but a storm can still coalesce in moments. Sometimes a sage will know in ad vance of the most modern instruments."

"Did you lower the wall to keep it from blowing away?"

"Yes. Most of the time it's up to keep people from wandering around on the g rounds, but at times like this we want people to be able to rush in.

Besides

, a wall is nothing but a big wind sail. One good gust, no matter how strong your welding is, and a section of wall could go flying. And nobody wants to be where it lands."

She had her attention on the outdoors through her entire speech, constantly s canning for travelers in need of immediate shelter. But the street, now dimly illuminated by lights, was empty of traffic.

The side passage through which they had been conducted on their first night now opened for the Skywalkers. Luke headed through it to his lesson. Ben f ound a lounge area, packed with Baran Do and a few trapped pedestrians, whe re a large wall monitor alternated between satellite views of the storm fro nt and holorecordings of the effects of weather around the capital city.

It was a spectacular show, and one that went on for hours. Light-ning descen ded from the clouds, mostly striking harmlessly against lightning rods and s hielded antennas, but occasionally hitting the tall, leafy plants rods and s hielded antennas, but occasionally hitting the tall, leafy plants that serve d the Kel Dors as trees; such a strike superheated the fluids within the pla nt, causing it to explode and spray burning cel-lulose in all directions. Fu nnel clouds touched down at several points, twisting and dancing their way a long streets or across rooftops, often damaging but not destroying the build ings; but on one occasion an es-pecially vicious funnel swept across a large theater, grinding it into un-related chunks of permacrete, shredding length s of tapestries and recognizable padded seats, spraying all the debris out a cross the sur-rounding few blocks. One of the non-sage Kel Dor present said some-thing in his own language, then, for Ben's benefit, translated: "I hope they were in their basement levels."

Ben nodded. "Me, too."

* * *

By midafternoon, the storm front had passed. Several injuries were reported

, but no deaths. The visitors to the Baran Do temple thanked their hosts and returned to their lives.

Luke found Ben lingering in the lounge. "All done," he said.

"You've mastered the technique?"

"And I'm making inroads into the other 'lightning-rod' tech-niques. By the way, we've been invited to Charsae Saal's farewell cere-mony. Care to atten d?"

"Yeah." Ben frowned. "It was mentioned a few times here while everyone was watching the storm coverage. I got a strange sense about it."

"What do you mean?"

"His students, like Tistura Paan, were sad about it. So were the Baran Do Mas ters, but it was different."

"Of course it was. Masters tend to have a greater depth of philoso-phy and understanding about such things—"

"Dad, they were even sadder."

That got Luke's attention. "What's that again?"

"I got the impression that the Masters had an even deeper regret."

"Interesting." Luke frowned as he thought about it. "Now I'm certain that we need to attend."

* * *

It happened at nightfall. Behind the main temple, on a broad paved area, st ood a raised hearth surrounded by a bronze-colored metal rim. On the hearth

, a pyre had been built. It was not made of wood, for wood did not burn in Dorin's oxygen-free atmosphere; instead, it comprised planks made of a self

-contained solid fuel already enriched with oxygen.

For the first hour, as the sun went down and Baran Do and friends gathere d, Charsae Saal circulated, greeting guests. He was, by Kel Dor standards

, short and burly, meaning that to Ben he looked somewhat less scrawny th an the others. He might have been old by Kel Dor stan-dards, but he moved energetically and easily; he had certainly shown considerable combat ski ll when working with Ben the previous day. He wore a simple draping robe in black. A hood hung partway down his back.

Drinks and tidbits of food were served. Luke and Ben, the only non-Kel Dor present, did not partake.

Eventually, Charsae Saal stood up on a benchlike platform, also made of the combustible material, and addressed those who were gathered. He spoke in t he Kel Dor language, but Tistura Paan, stand-ing near the Skywalkers, trans lated into Basic. "Thank you all for at-tending. There is no lonelier thoug ht than the idea that you might die alone; there is no more comforting thou ght than that you may die gently, among friends. I now take that step, movi ng aside so that oth-ers may succeed me. I pray that I will be remembered f ondly. I will re-member all of you fondly."

So saying, he flipped his hood up so that it shrouded his eyes. He lay down on the platform upon which he had been standing. He placed his hands togethe r, fingers laced, over his chest.

As the others watched in silence, his breathing slowed. Ben could feel him in the Force, a strong, vital presence.

Then the Force presence that was Charsae Saal faded, became smaller. In mo ments, it was completely gone, though his body still lay on the platform.

Four Kel Dors approached the platform. They carried what looked like a cask et made of the same combustible material. Two poles were slid through hoops along the casket's sides; one Kel Dor held each end of each pole. They man euvered the casket over the body of Charsae Saal and lowered it, carefully settling it into place. A moment later, they lifted it clear of the platfor m. The top layer of the platform ad-hered to the casket's underside. The be arers carried the casket and placed it atop the pyre, then withdrew the pol es and stepped back.

Mistress Tila Mong approached the pyre. From the distance of a meter, she ext ended her hand. A crackle of lightning leapt from the end of her fingers to s trike the base of the pyre. Instantly the combustible material caught fire, a n odd, purplish flame that rapidly spread across all the surfaces of pyre and casket.

The flame became very fierce, very fast. Soon the Kel Dors and the two human s had to stand farther back so as not to be burned them-selves.

Purple flame s leapt into the sky, rising nearly to the height of the temple roof. The on lookers spoke little, but soberly watched the fire consume the body of their friend.

Not long after, the pyre collapsed. Remains of the casket fell into the cente r of the burning mass. The flames were still fierce, but dying. One by one, t he Kel Dors began turning away, taking their leave.

At an appropriate time, before the last of the Baran Do had left, Luke than ked Tila Mong and led Ben around the building toward the front gates.

"Kind of sad," Ben said. "He was pretty nice. A good fighter, though he didn

't have a lot of weapons experience. Staff, mostly."

Luke's tone was equally soft. "It always annoys me to be lied to."

"I wasn't lying to you, Dad."

"What?" Luke looked startled. "No, not you. Them."

"What do you mean?"

They passed through the gates. Instead of turning south, toward the spacepor t, Luke led them north, toward the mercantile district. "They lied.

About Ch arsae Saal. He didn't die, and they didn't cre-mate him."

"Are you kidding? I felt him die."

"You felt him vanish in the Force, as I did. A graduated diminishment that was not much different, in the way it felt to Force-sensitive onlookers, fr om death. Ben, have you ever met anyone who could conceal himself in the Fo rce?"

Ben grinned. "Other than myself? And Jacen? And you? And—"

"They put an empty casket on that pyre and burned it. And ordi-narily I don'

t need to pry into other people's secrets. But this one may have something t o do with what Jacen learned here, so we have to root out the truth.

We're g oing to find a restaurant for oxygen breathers, have a good meal with our ma sks off, and then we're going to come back here. And find the truth."

* * *

Two hours later they returned, but not as official visitors this time. In-ste ad of walking up the street, they moved as Jedi knew how to, dart-ing from da rk place to dark place, sending tiny distractions into the minds of pedestria ns so that they might pass unnoticed. Their dark garments helped, as did the lateness of the hour and the still-ominous cloud cover, which blocked out sta rlight and moonlight.

Soon enough they found themselves at the base of the durasteel-and-transpar isteel walls of the temple. Luke gauged the height and sprang upward. He ca me to rest atop, one haunch on the transparisteel lip, balancing there. He extended his hand down for his son.

Ben leapt up, letting the Force enhance his jump. He landed beside Luke in a crouch, both boot heels on the transparisteel lip, and grinned at his fathe r. Together they leapt down into the grounds of the temple.

Moments later, they stood by the hearth where Charsae Saal had theoretical ly burned. The remains of the fire had been mopped up; no ashes remained.

Luke turned his attention to the platform where the Kel Dor had stood for h is speech, had lain down to die. "If we assume that this was the means by w hich he disappeared, there's probably a mechanism here."

"Or a sensor," Ben said. "From which they're watching us right now, and plo tting our demise."

"You watch too many holodramas." Luke stroked the platform along its top.

"No, it doesn't take that many before you learn all the rules."

Luke paused over one spot. "If he triggered the mechanism him-self, it was w ith use of the Force."

"We would have felt that."

"Good point. So it was done by a confederate." Luke snapped his fingers, a nd a portion of the top of the platform swung downward, leaving a gap easi ly large enough for a good-sized human or a Kel Dor to fit through. "Shall we?"

"Masters first."

They used Luke's hook and grapnel, no longer worn on his primary belt but s till in his customary gear, to descend. Ten meters down, their boots touche d a stone floor. Luke pointed a finger up and the hook dislodged, dropping into his other hand; he gestured again, and the rectangular opening above t heir heads closed.

They were in a storage chamber of some sort. There were many metal shelves here, loaded with crates marked in the Kel Dor language. There were also se veral large containers that themselves looked like coffins—but silvery, loz enge-shaped, high-tech coffins. It was all dimly fit by low-intensity glow rods.

They stood on some sort of hydraulic platform that, retracted as it was now, was almost at floor level, but when raised should take it up to the ceiling a nd the hidden entrance above.

"Pretty simple," Ben whispered.

Luke tucked his grapnel and line away, nodding. He gestured toward the one door out of the chamber.

They waited by the door, extending their perceptions through it. In the Forc e, Ben could feel living beings beyond, but not close by.

Luke activated the door. It slid open quietly, but the hiss was loud enoug h to make Ben cringe. Sneaking around was so much more dif-ficult when you had to rely on other people's machinery, he decided.

He followed his father into a plain, permacrete-lined corridor. There was a l arge rolling cart against the hallway wall opposite; other doors lined the ha ll. The Force presences Ben had detected were beyond the one at the end of th e hall to the left.

Luke had come to the same conclusion. Together they approached the door. It was sturdy durasteel, too thick for sound to carry through.

Luke looked at Ben and shrugged. "Might as well barge in," he whispered.

"They're Baran Do Sages. They're not going to try to kill people for prowlin g through their basement, I hope."

Luke smiled. He activated the door, and it slid up.

The chamber beyond was not large. Two shining metal rails at waist height le d into a round hole, a meter in diameter, in the wall; one of the lozenge-co ffin containers rested on those rails. Beside the con-tainer stood Mistress Tila Mong, Master Charsae Saal, and two other Masters whose names Ben had no t learned. All four turned in surprise at their entry.

"I apologize for the intrusion," Luke said. "Master Charsae Saal, you look very good for one who is recently deceased."

Tila Mong looked decidedly unhappy. "This is unforgivably rude of you."

"Unfortunately, my need—which I expressed to you, a need in-volving all po ssible knowledge about Jacen Solo—forces me to do some uncomfortable thing s. Such as intrude on your rituals. The problem is, when I realized that C
harsae Saal was not dead, it occurred to me that your predecessor, Koro Zi il, might not be dead, either. True?"

Tila Mong, tight-lipped, did not immediately answer.

Charsae Saal spoke up. "In a moment, I will climb into that trans-port." He indicated the silver lozenge. "I will be swept away, never again to see sunl ight, the temple, or my family. Then Charsae Saal will truly be dead."

"Charsae Saal will," Luke said. "But you won't."

Charsae Saal hesitated, then nodded. "I will take a new name. Charsae Saal will be dead."

"So Koro Ziil also took a new name?"

Tila Mong interrupted: "We cannot answer that. It is forbidden."

"And yet I need to speak to Koro Ziil, or whoever he is now."

Tila Mong looked at them, considering. "This could be arranged. If you are willing to do what Charsae Saal is about to do."

That alarmed Ben. "Fake our deaths?"

"No. Climb into a transport and ride to where Charsae Saal is going."

"I will go," Luke said. "Ben can stay here."

"It is both or neither," Tila Mong said. "Answers for both or an-swers for no ne."

Luke frowned, but Ben nodded. "I'm in."

His father turned to him. "Ben—"

"Dad. Jacen. Coruscant. Answers."

Luke scowled. "I don't like it that you can win an argument with-out using v erbs."

Ben just smiled at him.

* * *

Charsae Saal climbed into his transport. The lid was lowered over him. Tila Mong shoved the transport along the rails until it fully entered the hole in the wall. Then gravity, magnetic propulsion, or some other motivator Ben co uldn't detect took over. The transport disappeared, clattering its way down into the depths of the planet.

The other two Baran Do Masters returned with transports on rolling carts. T
hey lifted one onto the rails. Luke climbed in and gave Ben one final, enco uraging look. Then the Masters lowered the lid on him, too, and shoved him into the railed tunnel.

As they positioned his transport on the rails, Ben wondered what he was ge tting into this time—and whether he would soon consider his time on the su rface of Dorin to have been a vacation spot in com-parison.

* * *

CALRISSIAN-NUN B MINES, KESSEL

They had breakfast in the conference room where Lando, Tendra, and Nien Nu nb had first talked to Han and Leia, but none of the adults were there now

. Nanna served, C-3PO chattered, Chance treated his food as though it were as much a toy as a meal, and Allana moped, scarcely tasting her food.

Lando's wild yell of victory jolted her. She stared wide-eyed as he burst int o the conference room, his hip cloak askew, his face all smiles.

"Get your breath mask," he told her. "We're going on the Lady Luck, my yac ht. To pick up your parents."

Ten minutes later, Lando, Tendra, Allana, and Nien Nunb, all crowded into t he cockpit of the Lady Luck, came in for a landing on a salt plain many kil ometers from the mine. Han and Leia stood there in the middle of nowhere, b reath masks not concealing the smiles on their faces. They looked dirty, sc uffed, tired, and cold, but they had never looked better to Allana.

"That's the way it is with your folks," Lando told Allana. "Every-thing's fin e now."

Chapter Nineteen

CALRISSIAN-NU N B MINES, KESSEL

THINGS HAPPENED FAST AFTER THE SOLOS' RETURN.

Mere minutes after Lando, Tendra, and Nien Nunb heard the Solos' story, the y placed a rush order to Trang Robotics for dozens of small flying sensor d rones, a type used in military operations for recon-naissance over a large area. Two days later, a first shipment of ten drones arrived. Tendra alread y had their programming worked up and ready to be installed; then Han and L
ando used the Falcon to take the drones to the sensor access tunnel by whic h Han and Leia had escaped the underworld. They released the drones into th e shaft, planted a data relay unit there, and returned to the mineworks.

Hours later, the drones had transmitted enough visual and sensor recordings that the data could begin to be integrated. In the confer-ence room now be ing used as the Calrissian-Nunb-Solo base of oper-ations, Tendra brought up a schematic of the planet, a green wire frame of the entire world.

"All right, start your Podracers." Tendra pressed a button on her console, a nd an elaborate webwork of yellow lines appeared on the diagram; the yellow web spread hundreds of kilometers from the site of the mineworks, straight l ines intersecting at larger bulbous spots.

Leia leaned in close, peering at the design. "Where were we?"

Tendra tapped a spot on the diagram, a yellow line between two closely sit uated yellow blotches. "This is where you escaped the com-plex." She tappe d one of the two yellow zones, which was dotted with blackness.

"This is t he cavern that blew up."

Han whistled. "Every one of those yellow things is a cavern?"

Tendra nodded. "Every one. All part of the same ecosphere, with pretty muc h the same sorts of life-forms. A lot of the caverns were de-stroyed alrea dy, though, apparently due to magnetics-and-explosives devices like the on e you saw at the center of yours. Sometimes they caused complete cavern co llapses, sometimes not."

"And if Leia's interpretation of her contact with the bogeys is cor-rect"—La ndo raised a hand to forestall an objection from Leia—"and I'm certain it is

, then we have a limited amount of time to figure out how to disarm the rest of those devices before they all blow up and crack Kessel into pieces." He nodded to his wife. "Show them the rest."

"Oh, good," Han muttered. "There's more."

Tendra keyed in another command, and more wire-frame data su-perimposed its elf on the schematic of Kessel. Red tracings, compli-cated but small, appea red in several spots on the planet's surface, and a series of thick orange lines, jagged and wandering, seemed to mean-der their way through the cente r of the planet from pole to pole.

"Red is mineworks," Lando explained, and he tapped the one clos-est to wher e Tendra had indicated a moment earlier. "You are here. The orange thing is an enormous fault system. The seismologists made us aware of it as they've been investigating the groundquake phenom-ena. We had them run some number s, and it's pretty clear that if enough of these caverns blow up at the sam e time, it'll cause the fault to crack, basically shaking Kessel to pieces.

"

Nien Nunb offered a comment in his own language, and Lando translated:

"He says for Han not even to talk about just evacuating. We want to save this planet."

Han grimaced. "I hate it when I'm the only sensible one—it's a bad precede nt for me—but it's even worse when no one gets to be the only sensible one

."

Leia waved away his objection and turned back to Lando and Tendra. "So how do we visit, investigate, analyze, and then defuse all those detonation d evices in the time we have available?"

Lando looked unhappy. "That's where I'm stumped. We're already losing drone s to the bogeys. They get too close, the bogeys come out to investigate, th ere's contact, and the bogeys go down the way your speeder did that first t ime. We've had six of the ten drones go down like that already, and only tw o have recovered sufficiently to continue their missions. I'm not sure how to get a crew of demolition experts and scientists down there, keep them sa fe, give them enough time to figure out how to defuse the explosives ... It sounds pretty close to impossible."

Han opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

Leia glanced his way. "I felt that."

"No, you didn't."

"You had an idea."

"I was just yawning."

She grinned at him. "I know you think the galaxy would be a bet-ter place wi thout Kessel in it. But not everyone agrees."

"Come on, old buddy." There was a genuine plea in Lando's tone. "If you've go t an idea, let's hear it."

Han sighed. "All right. My idea is this. You don't even try to defuse those th ings. Instead, you set them off."

Lando's brows rose. "We're not even waiting for them to blow up my world?

We're doing it ourselves?"

"No." Han pointed at the yellow patches on the monitor screen. "It's not just that they're blowing up. It's that they're blowing up all at once. Right? But if you set them off in some sort of random order, some sequence that will keep the strain from cracking that big fault ..."

Lando's face cleared. "Han, you just earned yourself some shares in Calriss ian-Nunb."

"Thanks, but I'd rather have shares in a firm that makes space-station trash compactors."

"I can arrange that." Lando turned back to the map. "We get one of the big t unnel grinders, one that's not cracking minerals anymore, and dig a shaft st raight down to the tunnel nearest the surface. That'll give us a straight in

-and-out big enough for small transports. We'll need teams of demolition exp erts who can figure out how to set off those explosives mounds reliably."

"The Jedi can help," Leia said. "I'll—"

"Noooo," Han said, and the others echoed his sentiment.

"Why not?"

"The Jedi have government watchers now, remember?" Han said. "This world represents big, scary technology like Centerpoint Station did. Things t he government could study. As soon as the government hears about what's here—"

Leia nodded ruefully. "That's true. They'll put a halt on all pro-ceedings u ntil they've sorted out what they think should be done, and that decision wi ll be slowed to a standstill by the promise of new tech-nology. Then it'll s tay deadlocked until everything blows up and Kessel becomes a cloud of aster oids."

"So no Jedi," Lando said. "Other than you, of course."

Leia sighed. "Agreed."

Tendra looked thoughtful. "So Step One, I guess, is to figure out what we ca n do to set off those explosives mounds at the times of our choosing."

* * *

DEEP BENEATH THE SURFACE OF DORIN

Though he had expected the trip to take only seconds or, at most, minutes, B
en rode in his unlit coffin for what seemed like forever. He checked his chr ono from time to time—fortunately, its tiny screen was lit—and watched ten m inutes trickle by, then twenty, then an hour ...

The only thing he heard was occasional clattering as the container's gripper s traveled over debris or a coupler-joined sections of rail. He shouted on t wo occasions for his father, but Luke was clearly too far away to hear. Ben could feel Luke out there, though, calm and unalarmed, so Ben himself had no reason to fret.

He was just bored.

Two hours and five minutes into his trip, the container slowed. Ben breathe d a sigh of relief. The container continued to decelerate, and within a min ute it came to a complete stop. Ben could see light glimmering along the ed ges of the lid. Then he heard voices speaking in the Kel Dor tongue and the lid opened. The sudden light blinded him.

Blind or not, he was ready for trouble, using senses beyond sight, but he de tected no hostile intent in the three nearest beings, even as they reached f or him. He let one take his hand and guide him up and out of the container.

Warm, humid air washed across him—all but his face, still enclosed in the br eath mask—and he dropped to his feet on a rocky surface.

As his vision cleared, Ben found himself in a stone tunnel, one ob-viously b urned out of the stone rather than a natural formation; the walls were heat-fused rock, clear sign of tunneling devices that used a high-temperature mec hanism such as laser drills. One end of the tun-nel narrowed into a diameter just large enough to accommodate the containers, and rails issued from it.

The rails continued the length of this sixty-meter tunnel and ended in an up raised loop.

Charsae Saal's container was stopped at the loop, and beyond it, five mete rs away, was a blast-door exit. Charsae Saal stood beside his container, s peaking rapidly with two men and one woman, all Kel Dors, dressed as he wa s. They cast glances back to Luke, who was halfway between them and Ben, s tanding beside his container, non-chalantly leaning against it. One Kel Do r stood beside him.

Two of Ben's greeters left his side to walk to Charsae Saal's group; the thi rd, a woman, remained behind, eyeing Ben cautiously.

Luke looked toward his son. "Restful trip?"

"The minutes flew by like hours." Ben stretched, then looked at his Kel D
or companion. "You speak Basic?"

She looked mildly offended. "Of course."

"I'm Ben Skywalker."

"You were. Now you are not."

Ben gave her a puzzled frown. "Come again?"

"You will have to choose a new name here."

"Why?"

"Because Ben Skywalker is dead."

* * *

After conferring, the black-robed Kel Dors, including Charsae Saal, led Luke and Ben through the blast door. The chamber in which they found themselves was roughly circular, some twenty meters in diame-ter, with blast doors set in the walls at regular intervals and a black stone support pillar in the ce nter. The Kel Dors did not treat the Jedi as if they were prisoners; their m anner was civil but uncertain.

One of the blast doors opened into a tunnel that led to a much larger chamb er—forty meters or more in diameter, ten meters high at the center, with ei ght support columns arranged in a circle midway be-tween the walls and the center of the room. Against the far wall was what Ben had looked for in vai n in the Baran Do temple: a raised plat-form with a large, imposing chair u pon it. The chair appeared to have been carved from white stone and had whi te cushions on the seat and back.

Settling into it was a Kel Dor male, taller than many of the others. He had more wrinkles around his eyes and the corners of his mouth than most Kel D
ors that Ben had seen. Other than his placement on the throne, there was no sign of rank about him; his robes were as sim-ple and as dark as everyone else's. Luke and Ben were led to stand be-fore him.

He looked down upon them, his expression quizzical. His voice was reedy b ut not infirm. "Why are you here?"

Luke gave him a nod of greeting. "We are here in search of an-swers."

"Ah." The enthroned Kel Dor nodded as if satisfied. "A worthy goal at the en d of one's life."

Luke frowned. "You intend to kill us? For what?"

"No, certainly not. You have come here. This is the place after life. The wo rld below, the world after. You are already dead."

Ben spared a look at the other Kel Dors present. None of them re-acted to th e statement.

Luke clearly decided not to pursue that subject further for the mo-ment. "

May I assume you are Master Koro Ziil?"

"I was, in life. Now I am hu'aac-du'ul-staranjan."

Luke frowned, considering. "That does not sound like a name, es-pecially a Kel Dor name."

It didn't to Ben, either. Kel Dor names tended to follow a pattern similar to that found among Coruscanti humans—personal name first, clan name seco nd, with both names tending to be short, usually one or two syllables; thr ee or more was a rarity. The Kel Dors whom Ben had met always referred to themselves and one another by their full names or by a title and a clan name.

"It means 'the one who dwells in darkness' in our language. Or 'the hidden on e.' It is my title, for I have no name at all. I have transcended not only li fe but identity. You, too, will have to choose new names now that you are amo ng us."

Luke gave him a look that suggested he regretted being displeas-ing. "We wo n't be staying."

The former Koro Ziil smiled. It was not a cruel smile, but a sympa-thetic o ne. "There is no way to leave. You are with us forever. Seek your answers a mong us, but become reconciled to the fact that you will never take those a nswers away from here."

* * *

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

Swearing under her breath, Jaina pulled on a robe and moved to the door of h er quarters. She nearly tripped over a waste receptacle in the darkness, and decided that it was good her observer hadn't seen that; it wouldn't do for word to spread that the Jedi could be klutzes like anyone else.

In the outer chamber, at the door to the hall, she hit the button to turn on th e lights and another to open the door. It slid up, revealing Jedi Tekli in the act of pressing the door-chime button for the third time.

Not waiting for an invitation, the Chadra-Fan Jedi—fur-covered, with big e ars and gnawing upper incisors that gave her a cute, pet-like appearance t hat caused her no end of trouble with children—rushed in. "Darkmeld, darkm eld," she said.

The word sent a thrill of coldness through Jaina's insides. Darkmeld was a word of Jaina's own invention, part of a plan she'd put into motion after h er last conversation with Master Hamner. Only a few Jedi whom Jaina trusted

, and who were not Masters, knew the term— knew that it referred to Jaina's new circle of conspirators. An even smaller number of non-Jedi knew it.

Jaina hit the button again to slide the door shut. She found herself whisperi ng without meaning to. "What is it?"

Tekli stood before Jaina's desk, putting her weight first on one foot, then th e other, an unconscious dance of agitation. "I saw him."

"Who?"

"I was at the prison. Master Cilghal has a plan to keep pressure up on the au thorities to let us examine Valin. She visits once per day, stay-ing for an h our or two to annoy them, and I do so in the evenings."

"So you saw Valin."

"No, Jedi Hellin."

Jaina blinked. "Seff Hellin? He's in prison?"

"No, he's outside it. Dressed as a workman, entering the under-ground throu gh a workers' access hatch."

Jaina whistled. "He has to be evaluating the prison defenses. So he can brea k Valin out."

"That was my thought. He didn't see me. I don't think he even felt me. I was n't using any Force abilities. I felt surprise when I saw him. but I suppres sed it pretty quickly. He made no reaction suggesting he felt anything. I th ink I got away with it cold. I came straight here, straight to you." Tekli b egan pacing, gesturing as she talked. "We have to have him.

We can't study V
alin, but if we can get Seff, study him without the government knowing we ha ve him . . ."

"Wait, wait." Jaina's mind raced. "We need to be sure he has the same condi tion Valin does."

"All evidence suggests it. What's more, he came back to Coruscant without n otifying the Temple he was here, and now he's staking out the facility wher e the only other Jedi who behaves like him is being held. Besides, if we're wrong, we can let him go."

"Right." Jaina checked her chrono. It had been only two hours since Dab had awakened her with one of his random checks of her whereabouts.

This meant th at, in all probability, she had several hours to act before he'd check again

. She should be able to sneak out for a while. "All right. I'm going to mobi lize some people I've contacted about our little Darkmeld conspiracy. You ne ed to set things up here so that when we bring Seff in, whether it's tonight or later, we have a secret place to hold and evaluate him."

"Understood, understood." Tekli nodded so fast it made her fur sway, and Ja ina wondered what would happen if the Chadra-Fan were to drink a couple of cups of caf while in this state.

Tekli moved to the door and reached up to slap the button. "Sorry to cost yo u sleep."

"Don't worry. It's worth it."

* * *

All of them dressed in inconspicuous garments of the sort favored by the mid dle class when traveling, they met in a tapcaf a kilometer from Valin's pris on—Jaina, Jag, Tahiri, and a lean woman with white hair and elegant, ageless features. Jaina introduced the last: "Jag, this is Winter Celchu, my former babysitter. Winter, this is Jagged Fel, Head of State of the Imperial Remna nt."

"Galactic Empire," Jag corrected absently. "You're married to General Tyc ho Celchu?"

Winter nodded.

"And you're ex-Intelligence. In addition to ex-babysitter."

She gave him a faint smile. "I hate it that people have heard of me."

"Well, your husband and my uncle are best friends. It makes some secrets ha rd to keep."

Jaina waved to get their attention. "I'll make this short. I've got the Jedi resources and ways in and out of the Temple, but I'm going to be hobbled by h aving an observer. Jag, you have unlimited financial re-sources, at least by our standards."

Jag nodded. "I can't really be a despot if I'm not wasting the Em-pire's mone y."

"Tahiri, you have the full range of Jedi abilities, which we'll need in order to handle Seff, and no observer hanging around your neck." Jaina did not voi ce her next thought: that Tahiri had been very easy to convince to help on th is mission. Tahiri hadn't been able to repair much of the damage she'd done i n Jacen's service. It apparently meant a lot to her to be able to help with a nother Jedi's mess. "Winter, you have Intelligence skills and contacts. Betwe en the four of us, we're the core of this operation. We need to set up an obs ervation of Seff, se-cretly grab him at our earliest opportunity, and get him into the Tem-ple for Tekli to evaluate."

The others nodded.

Tahiri looked doubtful. "And we have to do it without him being alerted to us

. He's a Jedi Knight. This is not going to be like doing surveillance on a ba il jumper."

"Not a problem." Winter held her datapad up. "On this is a shop-ping list. H
igh on the list are holocam droids and security holocams. If it's mostly hol ocams watching him, he won't feel it in the Force."

Tahiri shook her head. "Problem. He may know the technique that allows him to fuzz out holocam feeds for a moment or two as he passes in front of th em."

Jaina gave her a reassuring smile. "Not a problem. We still have the softw are we used to track Alema Rar when she was using that tech-nique, back wh en she was sneaking around on the Errant Venture. We can plot Seff's movem ents even if he does that."

Jag slid a credcard across the table; it fetched up against Winter's forearm

. "There should be enough there for your shopping trip. Let me know if you n eed more."

Winter pocketed the card. "This can't be traced back to you?"

He shook his head. "I made sure it was clean. It's supposedly for gifts and su rprises for Jaina, things that shouldn't be traced back to a Head of State's e xpense account."

Jaina looked crestfallen. "I'm not getting my presents?"

The others looked at her. Unable to maintain the pose, she laughed. "You'r e just lucky I'm a low-maintenance woman," she told Jag.

"That I already knew."

Chapter Twenty

CALRISSIAN-NUNB MINES, KESSEL

IN TWO DAYS, THE SOLOS, CALRISSIANS, AND NIEN NUNB had much more data and a little more useful information.

The drones, reinforced by a second shipment, continued tracing the webwork of the tunnels and caverns deep within Kessel and con-firmed that the com plex encircled the entire world.

Six YVH 1 combat droids, fresh from the Tendrando Arms assem-bly plant, a rrived and were immediately put into service. Transported into the cavern system through connections with the mines discovered by the sensor drone s, they began investigation of the demolition mounds.

Deployed in two-droid teams, the first thing they discovered was that anyt ime they approached the mounds, bogeys arrived to investi-gate them. The b ogeys invariably flew through them, crashing the droids' systems. The auto mata, unlike the sensor drones, eventually recovered from this electronic mistreatment, but when they continued their approach toward the mounds, th e bogeys returned. Unable ever to reach the demolition mounds, the YVH dro ids retreated to a safe distance.

One YVH pair, assigned to a cavern chosen as safe to destroy, uti-lized a lo ng-distance military-grade missile launcher to fire on its mound from the co mparatively safe distance of the cavern entrance. On Tendra's monitor back a t the mines, the Solos, Calrissians, and Nien Nunb watched the first explosi ves package, a concussion missile, roar from the weapon barrel barely visibl e at the bottom of the screen. The bright flare of its thruster dwindled in the distance as it arced down to hit the ground mere meters from the mound.

The missile exploded. Viewing the scene through the high magni-fication of the YVH droids' visual sensors, the humans and Sullustan saw the explosion kick up soil and shredded fungi from the ground. The antenna-shaped device did not even rock. The barrels in the ex-plosives mound shifted a little bu t did not otherwise react.

Lando looked dour. "Not very promising."

Tendra keyed the comlink on her control board. "Next package, please."

She switched the microphone off and leaned back. "This will be a thermal deto nator, one of the smaller ones YVH droids have as a basic option."

"You sound like a speeder salesman," Han muttered.

The monitor showed the arms of the droid loading a different, miniature mis sile into the launcher, then taking aim. Again the missile flew on its ball istic trajectory from the weapon and arced down to land meters from the dem olitions mound. It, too, detonated—

The monitor blanked, going to whiteness. Tendra and the others leaned forwa rd, expectant, hoping that this wasn't just a comm glitch. For long moments

, the screen remained white and silent; then gradu-ally holocam transmissio ns of sight and audio began to resume, first as bursts of static and then a s full-resolution sound and visuals. The im-ages showed a cavern whose cent er raged on fire, a fungus-shaped cloud of black smoke rising from a scorch ed crater at its base, a corre-sponding burned area on the ceiling above. A s the YVH droid turned its head for a panoramic view, the onlookers saw mac hinery against the cavern walls shattered into junk, some of it burning . .

. but the destruction was nowhere near as total as it had been in the cave rn whose destruction Han and Leia had witnessed.

Lando whistled. "Frankly, I didn't expect that to work."

"Some difference in the explosive characteristics of thermal detona-tors."

Han's voice came as a distant murmur. "Temperature, proba-bly."

"This is good." Tendra breathed a sigh of relief. "If we'd had to go to pr oton torpedoes—I don't know how many we could have gotten in time. But we manufacture these thermal detonators. We can get all we need, and fast."

Leia bent close to the monitor. "There, in the distance. Look at the bogeys

." Fifteen or twenty of them were swarming in the vicinity of the crater. T
hen, as a swirling cloud, they began flying toward the holocam view, toward the YVH droids.

"Uh-oh." Lando picked up the comm board's microphone. "Five and Six, pull out. Immediate full-speed retreat. Return to pickup zone."

The droids complied. The holocam view swung around, showing stony tunnel rocking as the droids ran from the cavern entrance.

Thirty seconds went by, and then the monitor went mostly dark.

Diagnostics boxes along the sides began flashing red malfunction indicators.

Tendra's expression turned unhappy. "Both offline."

"Still, sweetie, it's a successful test." Lando rubbed his hands to-gether. "

Get enough combat droids down there, and we can do it."

Han, solemn, shook his head. "How many is enough, old buddy? A hundred

? A thousand? How many can you get here in a day or two?"

"Not that many."

"What we can do, though ..." Han frowned, concentrating. He moved to the monitor and entered the command to bring up the schematic of Kessel and i ts tunnels. "Here's what we do. We refit the Falcon and the Lady Luck to launch thermals instead of concussion missiles—"

Nien Nunb spoke a few words, sounding indignant.

Han didn't need Lando to translate. "Yeah, and the Half a Star. I also think we know some crotchety retirees who own their own starfighters and can get here on short notice."

Tendra's face brightened into a smile. "Right. We plot out the best paths thr ough the tunnels."

"Won't work," Leia said. "As the starfighters fly through and launch their d etonators, the explosions will be taking place in just the sort of progressi ons we don't want them to." Then her expression brightened. "Unless we rig t he thermal detonators so they don't blow up on impact, but on timer."

"Yeah, yeah." Lando's eyes scanned back and forth, obviously seeing somethi ng other than what was actually in front of him. "Me-chanical timers, I thi nk, not electronic. We don't want the bogeys dis-rupting them.

It can work.

" Then his expression turned sad.

"What is it, honey?" Tendra asked.

"Time to spend a lot more credits."

* * *

CAVERNS OF THE HIDDEN ONE, DORIN

They did call him the Hidden One, these other Baran Do living in the caver ns deep beneath Dorin's surface, and they did not refer to him in hushed t ones, which Ben took as a good sign—an indication that they did not fear h im as a god or a tyrant. But because the Hidden One was currently too busy administering this tiny subterranean kingdom to bother with time-consumin g, mundane tasks, the job of shepherding the Skywalkers around fell to the sage who had accompanied them to these caverns, combat instructor Charsae Saal. His first exploration of the cavern became the Skywalkers', as well.

Of course, he was now the former Charsae Saal. He called himself Chara and insisted that the Skywalkers do likewise.

The three of them walked from chamber to chamber, exploring, unhindered by the other Kel Dors present. Ben thought he had counted twenty different K
el Dors in ten chambers and tunnels so far, but as they were all dressed a like it was hard for him to tell. In addition to the arrival tunnel and th e Hidden One's grand chamber, they had walked along a gallery tunnel with holes leading into private quarters, a large chamber where vegetables and grains of all sorts were grown in circular hydroponics vats, and a storero om where primitive digging tools such as pickaxes and shovels were hung.

N
ow they moved through a large chamber loaded with recycling equipment

—wast e and water recyclers, polymer decomposers, tiny foundries for durasteel a nd transparisteel.

"Obviously," Luke said, "you've known about this place for some time befo re coming here."

"I have." Chara nodded. "It was nearly twenty years ago when Master Koro Ziil, sensing that I might someday be suited to this exis-tence, came to me.

He swore me to secrecy and told me of the Hidden One, who then was th e former Tokra Hazz."

Ben snorted. It caused a touch of condensation to form on the in-side of his breath mask, but the film quickly evaporated. "And the idea of living in a ho le in the ground and pretending to be dead was just ir-resistible to you."

Luke gave Ben a now's not the time to mock look.

Chara did not seem offended. "It's not an issue of pleasing our-selves. It's an issue of service. Service to the Baran Do, and to the cause of knowledge

." Having completed the tour of this chamber, he led them back through the b last door and out into the hallway be-yond. "And in a sense, you Jedi are re sponsible for it."

Luke smiled. "I don't recall sending out a communication asking for arrangem ents like this."

"Not you personally. Before your time. I was just a child when it happened.

The day the Jedi disappeared from the galaxy."

"Oh." Luke sobered. "The purge."

"Yes." The next chamber was not behind a blast door; the entryway was merel y curtained. Chara brushed the black cloth aside and en-tered. He fumbled a gainst the wall on one side and then the other be-fore he found the glow ro d activator switch. Light sprang up along the ceiling, revealing racks of d epressingly identical black robes. "Ah. You'll want some of these, though t hey'll have to be adjusted for your diminutive height."

Ben grimaced. "Diminutive."

Chara switched the light off and led them back into the access tun-nel. "A nyway, Master Tokra Hazz was horrified by this. All the Baran Do were, so the story goes, but Tokra Hazz was profoundly affected. Perhaps he felt th e deaths of the Jedi through the Force. Tokra Hazz was not so much distrau ght at the loss of individual life as at the loss of knowledge.

Remember, at the time it was believed that all Jedi every-where had died

—that the Je di Order had completely winked out. Fearing that the new Emperor would ext end the same genocidal im-pulse to other Force-sensitive orders, Tokra Haz z sent many of the Baran Do Masters into hiding and thought about what to do next."

Ben looked around dubiously. "And what to do was to dig a hole in the grou nd."

"Yes." The next chamber, also behind curtains, proved to be a storehouse of preserved foods, all in bottles or cans. Ben recognized brand names of preserved foods, all in bottles or cans. Ben recognized brand names from D
orin manufacturers. Chara continued, "As a repository of knowledge. If the Empire were to come and destroy the sages, a cell would survive, deep in th e ground, and would be able to . . . communicate its learning to others on the surface."

Luke frowned. "Communicate how?"

"The rails that brought us here are also direct comlink connections with th e surface. Not just with the temple, but other places. And should the rails be destroyed, the Hidden One knows a Force tech-nique of mind-to-mind comm unication."

"Telepathy." Luke sounded dubious.

"Yes."

"Interesting. I've experienced communications through the Force from loved ones light-years away, but they tend to be emotional surges, perhaps a few words, perhaps a vision . . . Exchanges of any-thing but emotions and gener al impressions are impossible to maintain for any useful length of time. Th at's not the sort of communication through which you can teach all your tec hniques."

Chara shrugged. "This technique is known only to the High Mas-ters of the Baran Do."

Luke looked thoughtful. "I'd love to learn it. I'll have to speak to Koro Ziil."

"Koro Ziil is dead. You will have to speak to the Hidden One."

"Yes, yes."

Ben tried to steer the conversation back to Chara's story. "So the old Mast er, Tokra Hazz, eventually decided on making this under-ground shelter."

Chara nodded. "He used tunneling equipment to dig the tunnel by which we en tered. It's very long, some two hundred kilometers, cir-cling and winding.

It eventually reached natural caverns that he de-cided to use as the center point for his complex. The first tunnel took years to dig, and the caverns took more years to modify."

They reached and passed by a communal sanisteam chamber. The next chambe r beyond seemed to be a sort of sauna, not currently in use.

"Why such a long tunnel?" Luke asked.

"A practical choice. Tokra Hazz's intent was to recruit only those Baran Do and servants who were fully dedicated to the cause. But in case someone chan ged his mind . . . well, it is impossible for any Kel Dor, or human, to leav e by that tunnel. To crawl two hundred kilometers—you couldn't carry enough food or drink and would die in the attempt. Should someone put together a vi able means to ascend through the tunnel, like the little rail vehicles they used during the construction days to go back and forth, the Hidden One can, at the touch of a switch or issuance of a special command through the Force, trigger a series of explosions along the tunnel's length, sealing it for-ev er."

Ben felt a little trickle of worry. "So how do Dad and I get out?"

"You've already been told. You don't." Chara looked serene but sympathetic.

"Like the rest of us, you are here forever. For your own sanity, you must resign yourselves to the idea that you are already dead—that you now exist only to preserve knowledge."

NOT FAR FROM THE ARMAND 1SARD CORRECTIONAL FACILITY

, CORUSCANT

Under an assumed name, Winter rented quarters in the residential building nearest the prison in which Valin was being held—in which Valin was stored

, since someone frozen in carbonite needed only mon-itoring, not a cell an d sustenance.

The prison itself was an artifact of early-Imperial-era architecture. Surrou nded by a comparatively narrow plaza, which would serve as a kill zone for g uards should prisoners escape, it consisted of a tall, tiered single buildin g within an exercise yard surrounded by fifteen-meter walls, all made of bla ck synthstone. Synthstone towers with snipers' nests rose from the corners; spotlights, bright enough to give a sun-burn to a target fifty meters away, were mounted atop the towers and at intervals along the walls.

Otherwise the only bright points to be seen were on the upper reaches of the building, wh ere lit viewports in-dicated the quarters of the warden and senior officers.

It was a place of gloom and oppression, and the Darkmeld conspirators'

new quarters looked down upon it from a distance of half a kilometer.

In those viewports, Jaina's team placed holocams with powerful zoom funct ions. On nearby desks and tables were banks of monitors for the holocams deployed to watch Seff Hellin.

Monitoring had been reasonably successful. Using holocam-equipped mouse dr oids, holocams surreptitiously mounted on gov-ernment buildings surroundin g the prison, and even data feeds stolen from surveillance satellites, the team had not only watched Seff per-form his workman deception but had use d a mouse droid to follow the rogue Jedi to his temporary quarters a kilom eter from their own stakeout. All the darkmeld conspirators took shifts at the stakeout quarters—even Jaina, when she felt she was safe in sneaking away from Dab for a few hours.

She had done so this night, and she and Jag shared duty at the monitors.

Jaina looked up from the screen displaying the notes the others had been kee ping. "His timing is as steady as public transportation on Kuat."

Jag, leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, nodded. "Seems to be.

T
he eight hours prior to dawn, he's in his workman disguise, mostly undergrou nd in front of the prison. The next eight hours he's at his quarters, presum ably asleep. The next eight hours we can't reli-ably track yet, but he seems to use them to acquire gear and maybe get in touch with contacts."

"We need to find out what he's doing in front of the prison. Dig-ging a tunne l? Planting high explosives? Surely he's not that crazy."

"We do." Jag rubbed his eyes and then looked at Jaina. "Armand Isard. Any relation to Ysanne Isard?"

"Her father. She sent him to prison. Not this prison." Ysanne Isard was one of the officers who had acted as temporary rulers of the Em-pire after Palpa tine had died. Earlier in her career, she had won a pri-vate power struggle with her equally treacherous father. He had been executed; she had replaced him as director of Imperial Intelligence. "I think it was some sort of act o f malicious humor rather than contrition on her part to name a prison after him. Bureaucratic inertia has kept it from being renamed. Or repainted. Or t orn down."

"Well, the New Republic only conquered Coruscant, what, thirty-six years a go? The century's still young." He waved the subject away. "At dawn, when Seff leaves, Winter and I are going to do just what you said. See what he'

s been doing down there."

"Good."

"Got a question for you."

"All right."

"What do you think about bringing Mirax into this?"

Jaina sat back and considered. "Well, she has skills, useful contacts, some f unds, and plenty of motivation."

"Right."

"But she'd need to keep it a secret from Corran. He's her husband, a former security investigator, and a Jedi Master. A hard man to keep secrets from."

"Also right."

"And she and Corran are very, very busy right now." That was an understatem ent. Each of the senior Horns was doing everything pos-sible to free Valin from his carbonite imprisonment and return him to the Jedi Order for evalua tion. Corran was calling in favors from his ca-reers before joining the Jed i—from veterans of Corellian Security and Starfighter Command. The latter o ffered more possibility of success, because many of his colleagues from his piloting days were now senior officers in the Galactic Alliance military, but so far they had demon-strated little effectiveness in this task, as the military officers and other government leaders supporting Valin's sentence were even more pow-erful. Mirax, similarly, was cashing in favors she had accumulated over the years, but her contacts—chiefly traders and smugglers—were hav-ing even less luck than Corran's. Jaina had seen Corran several ti mes at the Temple since Valin's sentencing, and it was clear that, as much as he tried to spare his fellow Jedi the pain he felt, he was suffering. Mi rax had to be in similar shape.

That decided matters for Jaina. "Let's designate her an in-case-of-emergenc y resource. Maybe get Winter to approach her on a prelimi-nary basis."

Jag nodded.

Jaina's comlink beeped, a familiar, unwelcome series of notes—two musical tones, a pause, and two more.

Jaina froze. "Oh, no."

"Didn't you say he checked up on you only an hour ago?"

"Yes." She looked stricken. "That should have given me three or four hours m ore at least. I haven't heard of any of the observers doing their checks an hour apart." She pulled out her comlink and glared at it.

"How fast can you get to the Temple and sneak back in?"

"Nowhere near fast enough. He's going to beep again—"

The comlink did beep again, the same notes.

Jaina winced. "And then he's going to assume I'm too deeply asleep to hear him. He'll go down to my quarters, which takes only a minute, and start rin ging the chimes."

"If he doesn't get an answer then?"

"He'll comm the Master on duty and they'll force the door. But I have one c hance." She scrabbled around in her pouch and brought out a second comlink.

"I rewired the door intercom with a comlink matched to this one. I can tal k to him as if I'm just inside my quarters. Maybe I can bluff him. Maybe I can convince him he doesn't actually have to see me." She knew she didn't s ound hopeful. She wasn't.

"What happens if you can't?"

She sighed. "I get found out having sneaked out of the Temple without my observer. Master Hamner will be obliged to punish me somehow. Teaching ba sic telekinesis to the younglings out in the Transitory Mists, for exampl e. That's assuming the government doesn't prosecute me, which they might."

"Which they will. They're not showing any mercy to the Jedi right now."

She glared at him. "Thanks. You're making me feel much better."

The second comlink sounded, this one with a chime identical to the one at J
aina's Temple quarters. She took a deep breath, then pressed the button.

Sh e made her voice sound sleepy. "What is it?"

"Hello, Jedi Solo. It's Dab. Routine location check."

"Weren't you—what time is it?"

"I'm sorry. Yes, it was just an hour ago. My randomizer went off again."

"Dab, just go away. I'm tired, I'm in bed, you know I'm here."

"I have to see you in person, Jedi Solo. You know the rules."

Jaina switched off the comlink and mouthed a curse. She glanced at Jag.

"I'

m sunk."

"Maybe not. Maybe the Empire can rescue a Jedi." He reached over and pluc ked the comlink from her fingers, and smiled at her star-tled expression.

He thumbed the comlink on. "Who's out there?" He made his own voice hoar se, sleepy.

Jaina stared at him.

"It's Dab. Dab Hantaq," Dab said.

"Where's my blaster?"

Jaina caught on and suppressed a laugh. As she'd heard her mother say many t imes over the years, she said, "It's under your pillow. Where it always is."

"Give me just a second. All right, let him in. I'm going to burn a hole right between his eyes."

"Jag, he's only doing his duty—"

"Vape his duty. Come to think of it, vape the neat little hole be-tween his e yes. I'm going to burn his face clean off. Closed-casket funeral for him, dip lomatic immunity for me. Let him in."

Dab's voice emerged from the comlink: "Um, Jedi Solo, I'm satis-fied that yo u're here. I'm just going to mark this one as confirmed."

Jaina breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Thank you, Dab. Good night."

"Good night."

She took the comlink back and switched it off. "Staying ahead of the Moffs is keeping you sharp."

* * *

Wearing workmen's jumpsuits similar to Seff's, Jag and Winter clam-bered do wn through the street-level access hole into the underground just in front of Valin's prison. Jag pulled the hatch closed above them.

This was a well-maintained maze of permacrete tunnels, metal pipes, access hatches, and machinery, some of it ancient. None of the tunnels headed in t he direction of the prison.

"Which is as it should be," Winter said. "Tunnels to and from the prison wo uld mean a higher rate of escapes."

Jag looked up and down the passageways leading from the access. "So what has Seff been doing? We haven't seen any sign that he's been removing deb ris."

"Let's find out."

Half an hour's exploration revealed some of what Seff had been up to. An el ectronics junction box that was suspiciously free of grime held an oversize d, very powerful datapad recently patched into the box's electronic compone nts. Winter activated it, spent a few minutes by-passing its simple securit y, and then flipped through the presets in its programming.

Each showed a l ength of permacrete tunnel, walls at right angles to an almost blemish-free floor, dim glow rods in a line across the ceiling. One preset displayed a simple diagram of the under-ground area, showing the leading edge of the pr ison and a spot a quar-ter kilometer away joined by some sort of access tunnel.

"Got it," Winter said. "It's a riot raid tunnel."

"Which is what, exactly?"

"It's a tunnel with only two accesses. One is at the prison, and it can't be opened from the prison side. It's probably not even detectable as a door on t he prison side—it'd be disguised as a permacrete wall, maybe in a storage are a. The other end goes straight to a law enforce-ment station of some sort and can only be opened from inside the sta-tion. If there's a prison riot or mas s breakout and the prisoners take over, the authorities have a fast, secret w ay to get into the prison."

Jag considered. "So he's sliced into the holocams observing the tunnel and probably subverted them—and he may have already drilled an access into the tunnel itself. He'll be working on a bypass for the prison-end door next."

"That's it. He goes into the prison from this access, thaws Valin, brings h im out the same way. Minimal fuss. But how does he find Valin?"

"Through the Force. Jaina says she can feel him, even in his present comatos e state. More significantly, how did he find out about this tun-nel?"

Winter shook her head. "I'm not sure. Back in the days of the Old Republic, Jedi sometimes helped the authorities in suppressing riots like this. Perhap s he found a reference to such an event in the Jedi Archives?"

"I'll ask Jaina to look into that . . . Can you keep Seff's holocams from reco rding? If there's an access into that tunnel, we need to go down there."

"I can."

* * *

Seff's access was easy to find. A sheet of durasteel with weld marks all alon g its edges appeared to be a wall-damage patch, but turned out to be simply h eld in place by four large blobs of a gluelike substance. Be-hind the metal s heet was a ragged circular hole, clearly cut by a lightsaber, into the tunnel shown on Seff's monitor.

Jag and Winter entered the tunnel and walked its length, finding no sign of s abotage at the security station end. Seff had clearly been at work at the pri son end, however.

Sophisticated bypass gear had been attached to the access console beside the blast door. Winter activated it and ran through its memory, determining tha t it had been testing thousands of possible activation codes at a rate desig ned to prevent the security station's central com-puter from flagging the ev ents as intrusion attempts. "It shouldn't take him much longer," she told Ja g. "A few hours, a day, maybe two."

In silent response, he pointed up. She looked that way and saw what he had f ound: two small thermal detonators, one affixed to the ceiling above the bla st-door controls, one in the ceiling twenty meters down the tunnel.

"He brings Valin out, shuts the door if he can, and if there's pur-suit, he tr iggers the detonators," Jag explained, "bringing the roof down and preventing further pursuit. There's another one, past the hole he cut, that will keep sec urity station personnel from following."

Winter nodded. "So that's his plan. What's ours?"

"This tunnel is a perfect trap. We follow him in here—the two of us and Tah iri. We confront him, capture him, and spirit him back to the Jedi Temple."

"Which is simple and brilliant as long as everything goes right. Now let's ge t out of here and start planning for everything that might go wrong."

Jag signed. "I really thought that when I got out of flying for my living, I'd also get out of mission planning."

"You aren't that lucky."

Chapter Twenty-one

CALRISSIAN-NUNB MINES, KESSEL

Seated around the table was a who's who of New Republic-era piloting histor y, and Leia was so cheered to see them all that she could not stop smiling.

Wedge Antilles sat to Han's right. More relaxed now since his re-tirement w as proving to have some staying power, he had his feet up on the table befo re him—scuffed, ancient boots on the elegant stone top, much to Lando's uns poken dismay. Wedge sipped from a tumbler of Corellian brandy. Lean and gra ying, he still had the sharp, angular features and piercing gaze of his you th. He was dressed in the flight uniform of a New Republic X-wing pilot, or ange jumpsuit and mostly white accoutrements

—but then, most of the pilots p resent had been dressed in the service uniforms appropriate to their starfi ghters when they arrived, and not all had had time to change into civilian clothes. Not all wanted to.

Next to Wedge was Derek "Hobbie" Klivian, still somber—some said mournfu l—of appearance, on a brief break from his duties as a Coruscant spokesm an for the Zaltin Corporation, the bacta manufac-turer.

Beside Hobbie sat Inyri Forge, a former Rogue Squadron pilot who had been born on Kessel—her parents and surviving siblings were among those who h ad been evacuated from the planet as the ground-shakes grew worse. They w ere temporarily quartered in old Imperial barracks on the garrison moon.

Brown-haired and fine-boned, she looked almost too delicate to be a pilot

, but her kill record made a lie of that assumption.

At the far end of the table was Kell Tainer. A large man about Leia's age, he was bald on top; he wore his long gray hair in a ponytail and had a dr ooping mustache. He looked far more like a pirate than a for-mer member of New Republic Starfighter Command, but his experi-ence as a pilot, demolit ions expert, and mechanic made him invaluable for the process of convertin g thermal detonators into warheads for other types of missile systems.

Then there was Cheriss ke Hanadi, an Adumari pilot who was said to be deadl ier with her vibroblade than with a starfighter; short, dark-haired, and fr eckled, she looked like she should be managing a farm goods store.

Next to Cheriss was Nrin Vakil, a Quarren whose watertight flight suit slos hed because it was filled with salt water kept in constant circu-lation by a backpack processor. Beside him sat Rhysati Ynr, a human woman living on C
oruscant; her husband was Nawara Ven, currently Coruscant's best-publicized advocate. She seemed a little uncomfort-able sitting beside Maarek Stele, who was still brooding and vital de-spite the complete loss of his hair; he was an Imperial retiree who had served, among other roles, as an officer o n Kessel's garrison moon and later as a TIE fighter pilot in the famous 181
st Imperial fighter group.

And, Leia reflected, the pilots sitting with her and Tendra at the head of the table—Han, Lando, and Nien Nunb—weren't exactly slouches themselves.

Lando rapped a shot glass on the table to divert everyone from catching-up talk and bring them back to the subject at hand. "So we have a mixed bag of starfighters—X-wings, A-wings, a Blade-Thirty-six, an Eta-Five acquired under circumstances I won't discuss, and a TIE bomber whose owner wants i t kept in the exquisite condition it now enjoys, so don't even think about scratching the paint.

"The next two crews of pilots I'll be briefing in here are the rescue vehicl e crews and the subsonics crews—those are the airspeeders you saw lined up o utside. Each of you will be paired with one of them. Their job is to precede you into the cavern, activate the monstrous sonic systems we've mounted on their speeders, and drive out the an-imal life. Sometimes they'll be doing i t at the same time as your missile pass, or after, if you're firing detonato rs on timer. If your detonator's supposed to go off on impact, they'll be pr eceding you."

Wedge took another sip of his drink. "Who's acting as mission con-trol?"

"Tendra—"

Tendra looked at her husband and shook her head.

Lando continued smoothly, "—or someone else. I'll make sure it's someone w ith plenty of experience. Nobody's going to be forgotten."

Han stepped in. "The subsonics pilots are going to be doing more flying than the rest of us. They'll fly several passes in each cavern, driv-ing the anima l life in one direction. They'll be notifying mission con-trol when each cave rn is done."

Cheriss raised a hand. "What if the bogeys knock down a subsonics speeder

?"

"That's bound to happen," Leia confirmed. "We have a whole net of sensors s et up down there. If any vehicle goes down, it shows as being offline on ou r computer. We send in a rescue transport. Since the detonators are on mech anical timers we can't abort, we're trying to make sure there's plenty of t ime between the end of a subsonics run and the scheduled detonation—time to get any stranded pilots out. We're trying to preserve the lives of as many of the animals as we can, but the overriding goal is to save Kessel and ke ep our pilots alive."

Wedge offered Lando a slightly malicious smile. "A hundred to one says you w eren't able to secure insurance for this little operation."

"True." Lando looked regretful. "I knew better. I didn't even try."

"So if a starfighter goes down and gets blown up, you're paying for it out of pocket, correct?"

Lando's expression went from regretful to mournful. "Dodging the bogeys is be tter for all of us. I can't stress that enough."

Tendra leaned forward. "Each of you will be responsible for hitting between twenty and thirty of the munitions devices. In most cases, you'll be targeti ng a spot near the device and your warhead will not be set to explode on con tact. It will go off on timer. Sometimes, though, it will be on impact.

We'l l try to remember to tell you which is which."

"Considerate of you," Hobbie said.

"Also, if one of you goes down," Lando continued, "that is, one of us goes d own, as I'll be doing what you are in Lady Luck, and Han in the Falcon, then the uncompleted targets on your list will be assigned to other pilots

—the p ilots with the nearest routes. Launch time is still holding at oh six hundre d local time tomorrow."

Though these veteran pilots were twenty, thirty, or forty years older than gr een recruits, they groaned just like newly commissioned fliers.

Lando offered them a bright smile. "Suffer. I have a toddler. I'll be up the n anyway. We'll see you in the morning. And, again, really: Thanks."

* * *

"No," said Allana.

Leia remained firm, at least on the outside. Looking down into Allana's anxio us face, she didn't feel anywhere near as decisive. "It'll just be for a few hours. Chance is going to be there. He'll be with Nanna."

Han, standing behind Leia's chair, gave his wife's shoulder a reas-suring sq ueeze. "Leia and I can't keep you safe while we're firing off bombs in the c averns. You need to be on the garrison moon. Espe-cially if there are more g roundquakes."

"No."

Leia took a deep breath. Arguing with Allana was so much like ar-guing with Jacen had been. The child was very bright and she intellectualized, ration alized like someone far beyond her seven years. Sometimes the only thing Le ia could use to win was pure willpower "Allana, this isn't open for discuss ion. Han and I have decided."

"The garrison moon is up in space. There's something waiting for me up in s pace."

Leia looked up at Han, but he seemed as baffled as she was. She turned bac k to Allana. "Something what?"

"Something scary."

"Allana." Han's voice was not harsh, but there was a warning tone to it.

"You shouldn't try to get out of things you don't want to do by fibbing."

Leia schooled herself to remain absolutely impassive. The num-ber of times H
an had gotten out of things he didn't want to do by lying . . . well, not to Leia, but to just about everyone else …

"I'm not fibbing! There really is something up there. It talked to me."

Leia frowned. "When?"

"When I—when I was outside the main building the other day. While you w ere underground."

"What did it say?"

"It wanted to know who I was. It was sad but scary."

"Did anyone else hear this?"

Allana shook her head. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "It talked throu gh the Force." Searching her grandparents' eyes, she con-tinued, more despe rately, "I know the difference between what's real and what's not.

This was real."

"Give us a minute." Han gestured for Leia to accompany him out-side Alla na's temporary bedroom.

Once they were in the hallway with the door shut, Han whispered, "What do you think?"

"She's telling the truth as she understands it. Which means there may actua lly be something out there." At a loss, Leia shrugged. "With the time we ha ve available, we have three choices, none good. Leave her here in the main building, which means danger if the ground-quakes get bad during our operat ion, which they very well may. Take her on the Falcon, where we'll be deali ng with high explosives, poten-tially dangerous animal life, bogeys, and pe rhaps collapsing caverns. Or send her to the garrison moon, where, if she's right, something may come after her."

Looking unhappy, Han considered. "If we have to choose one of those, I'd c hoose the one where we can watch after her ourselves."

"Me, too."

Han punched the door button. The door slid aside.

Allana stood just inside, looking up at them, her face shining as though she'

d heard the entire exchange. "I can go?"

Han stooped to pick her up. He straightened without even a fake groan or a you're getting too heavy comment. "You can," he told her. "If you promise to be a good member of the crew. That means follow-ing orders, even the o nes you hate."

"I promise."

"All right."

"And we fib all the time. Every time you call me Amelia, that's a fib, isn't it

?"

Han scowled at her. "Don't confuse the issue with facts. Leia does that all the time, and I hate it."

* * *

ARMAND ISARD CORRECTIONAL FACILITY, CORUSCANT

Seff Hellin stepped through the hole he'd burned in the permacrete mere days before and pulled the metal sheet into place again. With luck, this was the l ast time he'd have to do that, the last time ever.

He was so close to his goal that he could feel himself trembling. The isolat ion he'd felt for so long might at last come to an end. He still wasn't sure how he'd recognized Valin over the holorecordings of the man's trial—how he

'd instantly realized that it was the true Valin, not some imposter—but he h ad.

Soon he would free his fellow surviving Jedi Knight. And maybe, just mayb e, Valin would have answers that Seff lacked.

The tunnel was as he'd left it, the near end still rigged with his by-pass e quipment. Something was different, though, which he could recognize even at the distance of twenty meters: the main light indica-tor on the console now glowed green instead of red. It had completed its task; it had cracked the d oor's access code. He breathed a sigh of re-lief and headed that way.

Something else was different, too, and he was in midstride, halfway between his entrance and the door, when he felt it. This was a faint stirring in the Force, more subtle than most he had felt in recent times. There were presen ces nearby. They weren't workers in adjacent tun-nels or prison personnel be yond the door; he could feel that they were waiting for him.

He stopped and slowly turned, unsealing the front of his work-man's jumpsuit

, and pulled his lightsaber from beneath its folds.

The metal patch he'd set over his access hole was gone, pulled away so quiet ly that he hadn't heard it. From this angle, Seff could not see much through the gap, but the intruder wasn't waiting. She stepped through into his view.

He knew her, all right. Tahiti Veila—or, actually, the imposter in her form.

She was not dressed as a Jedi; she wore a tight-fitting jump-suit all in blac k, almost featureless. Nor was she barefoot. Her lightsaber, unlit, was in he r hand. Her expression was grave.

He gave her a look of scorn. "You could do better than that. At least get the f ootwear, or lack of it, right."

Her answer was almost a whisper: "Just like Valin." She moved sideways, all feline grace, until she was in the center of the tunnel.

"Which is why I have to be stopped, yes?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Tell your comrades to come on in. I want to see who they're impersonating

."

The false Tahiti glanced toward the hole and nodded. A man stepped through, but Seff did not recognize him; though not tall, the man was burly, clad i n loose-fitting pants and tunic in black, with dull silver gloves protrudin g from the cuffs of his garment. He wore a black hood that cast his face in to shadow. He looked unarmed, though he could have been hiding a multitude of weapons under the tunic.

On second glance, his burliness was not natural. Seff was sure the man wore some sort of breastplate under the cloth. Coming through the gap in the wall

, he had not bent properly at the waist; he was stiff in his movements.

That sent a jolt of alarm down Seff's spine. "A Mando. Of course, they'd s end a Mando against me."

The hooded man said nothing. And whoever else was beyond the gap did not enter, did not come within sight.

With at least three-against-one odds, speed and aggression were of the esse nce. Not waiting for any irrelevant declaration of intent or repartee from his opponents, Seff threw up a hand, exerting his will through the Force. T
he false Tahiti merely narrowed her eyes as she used her own powers to adhe re to the permacrete beneath her, but the unknown Mando staggered backward and slid for many meters, flail-ing. Perhaps he wasn't a Mandalorian after all; he seemed too awk-ward.

The false Tahiri waited only a moment, until Seff's surge flagged, and then i gnited her lightsaber and charged forward. Seff lit his own blade.

"Seff, things will be a lot better if you just surrender." She twitched her bla de, a feint designed to lure him into a premature attack.

Seff pretended to fall for it, striking down at her, a classic cleaving blow, but he jerked the blow to a halt and redirected it down at an angle against he r left side. Halfway into a block against the anticipated blow, Tahiri had to leap frantically back and maneuver her blade into the path of Seff's, a succes sful block that nevertheless left her off-balance and on the retreat.

"You're lucky," Seff told her. He struck again, throwing a series of attacks to keep her off balance. "Whoever you are, I have far less con-tempt for you than for the real Tahiri. Murderess, traitor, pathetic slave to her emotions

—that's what she is."

Seff was surprised to feel a jolt of anger and hurt from his oppo-nent. Coul d it be that she identified so strongly with the woman whose face she wore?

Interesting. He kept up his attack.

He felt the Mando reenter the fight before there was any visual ev-idence o f it. The black-clad man was on one elbow, as if hurt and struggling to ris e, and then Seff saw that the man had drawn a blaster pistol, built oversiz ed to accommodate his crushgaunts, but had con-cealed the action behind the sleeve of his other arm. The Mando swept his obscuring arm out of the way and fired; a blue stun bolt headed toward Seff.

Seff felt a jolt of jubilation. He caught the bolt on his blade and de-flected it down into the false Tahiti's leg. Tahiti's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then rolled up into her head. She fell backward.

Now to take advantage of the situation before his enemies could re-group.

Se ff dashed back to the blast door into the prison and hit two buttons

—one to open the door, one to trigger the thermal detonator toward the center of the corridor.

Nothing happened. He wasn't too surprised. If his enemies had found his wo rk here, they could easily have sabotaged his computer.

He glanced back. The Mando was on his feet, headed Seff s way, pistol in h and.

Seff glanced up to where he'd planted the nearest thermal detona-tor. With an exertion of telekinesis, he yanked it free and let it drop to the floor of t he tunnel. It made a metallic sound as it hit. He made sure he could visualiz e the triggering button; then he sent the small canister-shaped weapon rollin g toward the fallen Tahiti.

The Mando skidded to a stop beside Tahiti. Stooping, he picked up the unco nscious woman then turned and ran, sheltering her with his body.

Grinning, Seff kept the detonator rolling after them, even allowing it to bou nce once or twice for additional noise.

But he let the Mando gain on his rolling weapon. His task was not to kill th ese enemies.

When the detonator was halfway down the tunnel, when the Mando and the unc onscious woman were far enough ahead that the blast might not kill them, S
eff dropped into a crouch, turned away from the detonator, clamped his han ds over his ears, and telekinetically pressed the trigger.

There was a brief pause, then the world flashed red and white. Walls and fl oor shook, and Seff's ears were hammered as though he'd been cuffed by a ra ncor. Braced as he was, the shock wave of the explosion still slammed him i nto the blast door. He was pelted with superheated pieces of permacrete gra vel, one of which burned his side and caught his jumpsuit on fire. The ligh ts went out and smoke filled the air.

Shaky, he rose, patting out the burning portion of his garment. He was now in complete darkness—complete until he reignited his light-saber.

The gleam from his blade showed the tunnel collapsed, rubble fill-ing it t o within ten meters of where he stood. His bypass computer was wreckage.

The blast door was unhurt, at least for the moment.

If he'd calculated correctly, there would now be a crater in the bare kill zo ne above. The prison personnel would be on alert, but guessing either that th ere had been some sort of fuel mishap outside the prison or, at worst, that s omeone was trying to stage a prison break from without. His entry was likely to remain a secret for now.

And his enemies, if still alive, were trapped on the other side of the rubble.

He got to work, pressing the tip of his blade against the metal of the blast doors just at the seam, watching the durasteel begin to glow red, then orange

, then luminous yellow.

Chapter Twenty-two

JAG YANKED HIS HOOD AND HELMET FREE. He gasped for air. The Ex-plosion had hit him like a metal beam in the chest, driving the air from his lungs. He knew it would have been much worse if he had not been wearin g his Mandalorian breastplate.

Rising to his knees, he drew out a glow rod. The blue light it cast showed T
ahiri, flat on her face beside him, and a tremendous mound of construction w reckage behind them. His blaster pistol was nowhere to be seen. He pulled of f his left crushgaunt and pressed fingers against Tahiri's neck. He could fe el her pulse, and saw her lips part in a groan he barely heard.

He became aware that there was a faint noise emerging from his helmet.

He ra ised it to his ear.

"Gaunt, Sand, this is Hoth. Come in." The voice was mechanically distorted and deepened, not clearly recognizable as either human or female, but it wa s definitely Winter, using the call signs they'd agreed upon for him and Ta hiri. "Gaunt, Sand, come in." Even through the distortion, there was an edg e of worry to the voice.

"Hoth, this is Gaunt." Talking hurt. Jag paused to draw in a pained breath.

"Sand is down but recovering. Mad Nek is separated from us, continuing his mission. Are you intact?"

"Gaunt, Hoth. Not badly hurt."

Jag looked at the debris mound. He switched his glow rod over to a focused beam, shining it across the top of the mound. There were gaps there. It was a precarious, dangerous thing, but there might be a way across. "Call in t he rest of Darkmeld. Bring in whoever you can. Bring them in close and have them stand by. If we're lucky, this won't be a complete foul-up."

"Understood."

"Gaunt out."

"Hoth out."

Tahiri's eyes opened. There was no confusion in them, only anger. She exper imentally moved her head, then rolled over onto her back. "Did he have to h it me with a whole cargo ship?" Her voice was al-most distinct; Jag's heari ng was returning.

Jag pulled his crushgaunt back on. "Turns out that just because he's crazy, he's not inept. Who would have guessed?" He donned his helmet again.

She rose. "Where's my lightsaber?"

He stood as well, looking over the mound. "Somewhere under that, I suspect

."

Her expression turned sour. "This just keeps getting better and better."

* * *

Seff peered around another sublevel corner, spotted the security holo-cam do wn the corridor, and caused it to fuzz for a moment as he ran past.

He'd had no pursuit, nor was there any sign that the prison's inter-nal secur ity forces were alert to him. And now he could feel Valin, a dull, faint ligh t in the Force, very close—one or two levels up, not more than forty meters l aterally from his position.

It only took a simple bypass to get this level's turbolift doors open. The pr ison designers had done him a disservice by making the air shafts far too sma ll for an adult human to crawl through, but air shafts were not the only acce sses. Now he stared up the turbolift shaft. The lift car itself was far above him, not moving—Seff suspected that the state of alert caused by the explosi on had resulted in all the turbolifts going to a certain level and locking do wn. So much the better for him. He leapt across to the ladder rungs on the ba ck of the shaft and began climbing.

The door two levels up would have been even easier to bypass—he was operati ng from the undefended shaft interior instead of the exterior

—except that h e had to do the delicate electronics work with one hand while hanging by th e other from the top of the access box. But finally it offered up a little spark of defeat and the door slid open.

Three security guards, armed and armored for a riot, stood on the other side.

They'd had their backs to the lift door but turned in sur-prise as the door sl id up.

Seff jumped to stand in their midst. "Sorry," he told them, then kneed the on e on the left viciously in the stomach while putting an elbow into the temple of the one on the right, cracking the man's hel-met.

The one in the center backed away, bringing his blaster rifle into line, and g ot a shot off. Seff sensed his intent, a chest shot, and twisted out of the wa y. The blast passed close enough behind him to sear his shoulder blades.

He ignited his lightsaber and cut the blaster rifle in half at the base of th e barrel. The guard, wide-eyed, continued his backpedaling and reached for hi s comlink, but Seff kicked him square in the jaw. The guard fell, unconscious

, his jaw disturbingly askew.

Seff took a look around. This level of the prison, still below the sur-face, was dimly lit and quiet. The high-ceilinged main corridor and its all-metal w alls led right and left from the turbolift lobby. It had many doors, some of them oversized, all of them closed. He nodded. This would be a storage level, and it was reasonable for them to put the harmless Valin Horn here.

There was a holocam mounted at the ceiling corner. It was pointed straight at him—straight at the spot where people entered or left the turbolift. If it w at him—straight at the spot where people entered or left the turbolift. If it w as being monitored at this moment, he would be dis-covered. He fuzzed it, hop ing that he had not yet been detected, and left it that way for the seconds i t took him to shut the turbolift door and then pull the three unconscious gua rds to a point outside the holocam's line of sight. Then he let it return to normal operation.

He trotted down the corridor to the left, brushing his fingers across each do or as he passed, fuzzing each security holocam as he came within its range of vision.

What he found curious was that the prison was not being flooded by false Je di. Any force that could infiltrate and replace the Jedi could do so more r eadily with the government's cooperation, which meant that the government a nd the Jedi should be hand in hand, which in turn would make it easy for th em to send an army of false Jedi down here after him.

But only the fake Tah iri had come. Why? Had the gov-ernment somehow held out against the imposte rs? He felt a little stirring of hope.

On the other hand, perhaps there were two or more groups of im-posters at work—groups that did not cooperate. The Jedi could have been infiltrated by one, the government by another. That would make sense of what was hap pening here.

He felt a pulse in the Force as he neared one oversized door. Yes, Valin, h owever diminished, was beyond it. He got to work on the door security. But the security panel was new and of a very sophisticated type, obviously inst alled because of the important nature of the captive beyond.

Seff ignited his lightsaber and plunged it into the durasteel door. In less than a minute, for it was not as formidable as a blast door, he cut a large gap into it.

Down the corridor, the turbolift door slid open. The false Tahiri stepped th rough. Her hood concealed her features. She carried no lightsaber.

She spotted Seff, but instead of rushing toward him, she turned to stare up at the holocam monitoring the turbolift. She began jumping up and down, wa ving at it.

Seff sighed. Now she was using the prison's resources against him. Things w ould be more difficult.

He ducked into the chamber beyond the newly ruined door. It was a storehou se, packed high with old furniture, broken exercise equip-ment, computers dating back to the Old Republic . . . and a huge rolling rack from which h ung the carbonite prison of Valin Horn.

Valin had obviously been bound when frozen. He stood, arms be-hind him, a s tatue in mottled gray-black with an expression of pain and outrage on his f ace, sealed in a rectangular plate. A monitoring panel was embedded along t he right rim of the carbonite.

Seff moved to it, hurriedly entered a series of commands. The tiny screen rea d, error. enter authorization code.

Seff glowered at the apparatus. Now was not the time to face one final layer of security.

A strident breep-breep-breep alarm filled the air. Then Seff's ersatz Mando opponent squeezed through the hole in the door.

Seff moved toward him, reigniting his weapon, and slashed to cut this persi stent enemy down, but the man took the blow on one skill-fully interposed g auntlet. The blow did not penetrate. It was clear that he was wearing true Mandalorian crushgaunts made of beskar.

Seff spun, bringing his blade down at the false Mando's shoulder. His target caught the blade on his other gauntlet cuff—clearly, he'd had some training against lightsabers—but Seff maneuvered his hilt up, the blade down, using the gauntlet cuff as a lever point, and the blade slapped against the should er, a lighter blow than originally in-tended.

The false Mando's tunic burned away there and caught fire at the edges.

As S
eff drew back, he could see that the breastplate beneath, too, was beskar.

All right, then. The neck would be his next target. He lunged, arc-ing his b lade in a visually bewildering attack—

The lightsaber hilt was yanked out of his hand. It spun through the air, it s blade tip glancing off the false Mando's hood and revealing the black met al helmet beneath, and then the hilt landed in the palm of Not-Tahiri, now stepping through the hole in the door. Immediately she switched the weapon off and then unscrewed the pommel, render-ing the weapon temporarily useles s.

Seff looked at the carbonite imprisoning his colleague. "Sorry, Valin. Not th is time."

"Not ever," the false Tahiri said.

With a gesture, Seff sent Valin's rack hurtling toward his oppo-nents. Not-Tahiri leapt out of the way. The false Mando, too slow, was hammered by the rack and thrown to one side.

As the carbonite reached the door, Seff raised it two meters into the air, let ting it slap up against the exit. Seff followed, ducking through the hole he'd cut, then let the rack fall. It slammed to the floor behind him, momentarily sealing the door.

Seff raced down the corridor toward his exit. Ahead, the turbolift door was s till open, but he could hear the rushing noise of an oncom-ing lift car.

There was no time to gauge its distance or travel rate. If he was lucky, he'

d live and escape. If he was unlucky, he'd die. He heard Valin's carbonite b eing shoved out of the way as he put on a burst of Force-augmented speed and leapt into the turbolift shaft, slamming into the rungs at the back. He did n't grab at them; he dropped.

An arriving lift car shuddered to a halt just above his head. He grabbed at rungs a few meters down and held on, listening to the sweet sound of prison guards rushing out of the lift. He smiled; they wouldn't stop a trained Jedi or even a good imposter like the false Tahiri, but they would slow the fals e Tahiti and her companion long enough for him to get away.

He dropped again, grabbing a new rung five meters down, and continued dow n the shaft.

* * *

"What's the rush?" Dab rubbed sleep from his eyes, then cringed as Jaina br ought her speeder up to within centimeters of a fast-moving cargo hauler, s ideslipped out of her traffic lane and directly in line with oncoming speed ers, bypassed the hauler, and whipped back into the proper lane a handspan in front of the larger vehicle. All around them, other speeders veered and wobbled a bit in nervous anticipation of the next wild maneuver from Jaina'

s vehicle.

"No hurry," Jaina lied. "This is just revenge."

"Revenge for what?"

"For waking me up three times in the dead of night during the last week for your spot checks."

"It's my job. I take no pleasure in it."

"Well, I'm taking pleasure in this." Jaina sent the speeder rightward into a n arrow thoroughfare. She dived, dropping precipitously and illegally through th ree different traffic levels before joining the lane nearest the surface.

All around were the lights of pedestrian walkways. In this area, an aging, r un-down region where residential edifices gradually gave way to old, poorly maintained government structures, there was little traf-fic and few pedestri ans.

To his credit, Dab didn't shriek or grab at his restraining straps. He just sho ok his head, resigned to the trip. "So you're going to see Jagged Fel?"

Jaina's eyes snapped wide. Having no idea of her true purpose for being her e—supporting Jag, Tahiti, and Winter if they absolutely needed her

—Dab thou ght it was a romantic liaison. And he obviously thought that Jaina must be absolutely desperate for it.

Infuriated, she tromped on the reverse thrusters, sending herself and Dab sl amming forward into their restraints, as she made a sharp right-angle turn o nto a side throughway.

Thrown back into his seat by normal acceleration, Dab rubbed his chest.

"O
w."

"I am not going to see Jag—and that's Head of State Fel to you."

"Fine!"

"There's a little rooftop park up here I like."

"Of course. At this hour."

Jaina went into a steep climb, going completely vertical as she ap-proached t he wall of a particularly large residential block. Out of the corner of her e ye, she could see Dab's features drawn back in a rictus brought on by acceler ation.

Then she reached the top of the building. She rolled until she was level wit h the rooftop. She immediately set her speeder down on a broad bed of grass.

It was indeed a park, with carefully arranged ponds, trees, and flower beds

, fully occupying this rooftop and those of several surrounding buildings. O
pen-air, railed turbolifts provided access between the roofs.

Dab breathed a sigh of relief. "I get it."

"You do?"

He nodded. "You come to this run-down neighborhood in the middle of the n ight, dressed in anonymous brown clothes, and you walk around in the park

, hoping someone will attack you so you can beat them up. That way you re lieve stress and also get to take danger-ous criminals in."

She stared at him. It was a brilliant excuse, and she was embarrassed that sh e hadn't come up with it. "You're absolutely right."

"Well, it sounds like a good thing for Jedi to be doing." "It does, doesn't i t?"

She unstrapped herself and hopped out of the speeder. She gestured toward a spot where the trees were thickest. "I'm going to walk around on the path on the other side of those trees."

He unbuckled his own restraints. "I'll come with you."

"No, I'm less likely to be attacked if there are two of us."

"And I'm more likely to be attacked if there's only one of me."

"True." She pointed at a set of bushes away from her trees. "Hide there and wait for me." She raced off toward her trees.

This was not her favorite park, of course. It was the park atop the building where Winter had taken out quarters for the Darkmeld team. From here, she cou ld hear the sirens of public safety vehicles far, far below as they arrived t o deal with the crater that had appeared in the plaza minutes before.

Past the trees, she found the roof access to the turbolift and rode down to sur face level.

* * *

* * *

Seff jumped through the hole he'd cut in the blast door and rolled to his fe et in the tunnel beyond. There was the mound of debris his ther-mal detonato r had created, and between him and it were six surprised-looking Alliance Se curity troopers.

Seff sighed. Of course they'd opened their end of the tunnel to in-vestigate.

Of course they'd found their way here.

Of course the highest-ranking trooper shouted, "Halt! Hands in the air!"

Seff raised his hands—the backs of his hands rather than his palms facing t he troopers. He made a grasping gesture and yanked.

Debris, chunks of metal and permacrete, tore itself from the mound and hur tled toward him.

The troopers in the rear, hearing the noise, turned just in time to catch th e sideways rain of punishing detritus in their faces and chests. The blocks of masonry and support durasteel knocked them down and kept on coming, catch ing the three troopers in front by surprise. One inadvertently fired as he w as hit, his blast passing Seff a meter away.

Seff charged forward, kicking two troopers who were still moving. They lay s till. He snatched up the blaster rifle from one and the pistol from another.

He made sure both were set to stun.

His access hole was not covered by the debris, but the metal patch was back i n place over it. Seff reached for it, then hesitated as a sense of unease pas sed over him.

Again he gestured, this time lofting a big chunk of broken permacrete right i nto the patch. The impact tore the patch away, folding it around the debris, and there was a crack and sizzle of electricity. A length of electrical cable now dangled in the gap.

Seff smiled. He brushed the cable away with a gesture, then leapt through th e hole.

He didn't need to look around. As he straightened, he aimed the blaster rifle and fired, his stun bolt catching his target before he even registered what it looked like.

Another woman, also in close-fitting black garments, a hood con-cealing her features. She hit the floor with her eyes closed.

He took a moment to get his bearings. In the Force, he could feel the many life-forms out there in the tunnel and more closing from both sides. There were still more above, and those numbers were growing.

He darted for the shaft to the surface, hoping that it had not col-lapsed.

Chapter Twenty-three

MIRAX HORN, PILOTING A SPEEDER SHE HAD STOLEN mere minutes before from th e parking rails outside Kallad's Dream Vacation Hostel, circled a kilomet er out from Armand Isard Correctional Facility, catch-ing occasional glim pses of the flashing lights of official vehicles at the scene, of the cra ter that dominated the little ground-level plaza in front of the prison.

Winter hadn't told her much. It was imperative that she help the Jedi; check

. It was related to her son's condition; check. It was very important that s he not be identified; not just a check, but a guideline she'd followed since she was a teenager. She needed to get near and stand by; check. All of this was second nature to her. Though she largely operated on the proper side of the law these days, she was a felon's daughter, a smuggler and rebel hersel f. She knew how to ac-quire materiel when she needed it, how not to leave fo rensic or visual evidence. She was happy to do it, too, when she knew why.

"Credcoin, this is Slicer. Do you read?"

Mirax's new call-sign was Credcoin; she frowned at that, wondering if Winte r thought she was all about money. The woman had prac-tically raised the th ree Solo children—she must know how positively frantic Mirax was feeling ab out Valin, both his illness, if that's what it was, and his horrific impris onment.

And who was Slicer? The voice, possibly female, was distorted. Mirax raise d her comlink. "Slicer, Credcoin. Go."

"Our target is probably coming out of a workers' access hole right in front of the prison. It is imperative, I say again imperative, that we grab him."

"Understood." Mirax angled over to line up on the throughway leading straigh t to the crater. From this direction, she'd have to come in over the prison, a distinctly illegal approach, and make a steep dive down to surface level.

"How do I grab him?"

"No idea. Maybe just harass him. He's armed and very, very dan-gerous."

"Oh, good. Who's my backup?"

"All of us, when we get there."

"Who's my backup right now?"

"No one."

Mirax shut up. She didn't want to ask more questions that yielded bad answe rs.

An Alliance Security vehicle rose into her path, broadcasting on all channel s for civilian traffic to turn away from this zone. Mirax dipped her speeder and flashed by under it so close that she instinctively ducked. She was pre tty sure the pilot got a good look at her, which was another thing that woul d let him know something wasn't right; she was wearing a sheet of transparis teel foil wrapped around her face, concealing everything but eyes and nose, visually distorting her fea-tures.

She was over the prison now. Spotlights, rising to illuminate her, al-most bl inded her. She could distinctly hear the alarms sounding within the structure

. She put the speeder into a dive.

There was the crater, looking much like an asteroid-impact site, surround ed by official vehicles. Men and women on the ground were now mostly look ing up at her. There was no sign of—

No, there he was, a tousle-haired man in a gray worker's jumpsuit, a blaster rifle in his hands, climbing unnoticed from an access hole.

Mirax nodded. Her target was in sight. Now how to get him was the question

.

Best tactic for the moment: buzz him, force him to flee, keep him moving unt il her backups arrived. And she'd try not to get shot in the meantime.

Leveling off just above the surface, ignoring the new spotlights being train ed on her from several Alliance Security vehicles, she aimed for her target

—and then her head banged against the viewport to her left as she was sideswi ped from that side. Startled, suddenly dizzy, she angled off to her right, s traight toward a government office building, most of its viewports dark.

She vectored hard and found herself roaring along the face of the building at a right angle to the ground, her repulsors barely keeping her from scrap ing along the building front; their force blew several viewports completely in. Then she was angling away from the building face and leveling off once more, rubbing her temple.

She shook her head and sent the speeder into a tight loop, heading back to ward her target. What had happened?

* * *

Running toward the security cordon around the prison, now packed with pedes trians and press, Jaina saw the whole event unfold. The big civilian speede r, a garish red so unlikely for a covert operations ve-hicle, roared toward Seff, who was now out of the access hole. But there was another vehicle, a small, speedy flatbed cargo hauler ap-proaching from the red speeder's por t side. The pilot was visible through the front windscreen: Zilaash Kuh, th e bounty hunter. Jaina swore to herself.

The cargo hauler sideswiped the speeder, knocking it off course. The hauler continued its sideslip so that it would pass over and to one side of Seff He llin. The Quarren, Dhidal Nyz, leaned over the side of the hauler's bed with his oversized weapon and fired at Seff.

Seff sprang to one side with the speed of an experienced Jedi, but the net e xpanded too wide for him. It wrapped around him as it had Jaina days before.

As its connecting cable went taut, the Quarren was nearly pulled over the r ail, but he was braced for the impact. Seff was yanked off his feet and haul ed into the air behind the vehicle.

Jaina grimaced. Seff would be experiencing the same shocks she had. She de cided she intensely disliked that Quarren.

But the cargo hauler came on straight toward her.

The red speeder was getting turned around. Jaina brought out her lightsaber and thumbed on her comlink. "Credcoin, Slicer here. Your package is in the net. Follow the package."

"Understood." Even distorted, Mirax's voice sounded irritated.

As the cargo hauler passed, not quite overhead, Jaina ignited her lightsaber and hurled it, giving it direction and velocity through the Force.

Its brilli ant blade intersected the metal cable, shearing through it. Jaina positioned herself underneath her plummeting weapon but transferred her telekinetic effo rt to Seff, slowing his descent.

Slowing his descent some. She didn't know how incapacitated he was by the net-weapon's electrical charges. She let him hit the permacrete fairly har d, and could hear a loud grunt from him as he landed. The cargo hauler spe d on, Dhidal Nyz staring down at the two of them in surprise; then the Qua rren turned and began hammering on the back of the pilot's compartment.

Jaina caught her lightsaber, switched it off, and raced to stand be-side Seff, stepping on and crushing the net's power pack as she did so.

Dazed, Seff looked up at her. "Oh, not you, too."

"Sorry." She hammered the side of his head with the lightsaber hilt, a crude, inelegant blow. But it had its intended effect. Seff slumped.

Mirax's speeder settled beside her. Using the Force to augment her strength, Jaina lifted Seff and tossed him into the backseat, then leapt in beside him.

Less than a hundred meters away, official vehicles around the crater were lifti ng off, turning in their direction. Jaina looked at Mirax. "Is this thing fast?

"

"I only steal the best."

"Go, go."

They accelerated away from the scene.

* * *

The security officer, standing beside her speeder, watched four of her fello ws' vehicles take off in pursuit of the red speeder. But she must have felt some presentiment of danger. She turned, grabbing for her blaster pistol, ju st as Tahiri's open-palm strike connected with her chin, bypassing her helme t entirely. The trooper slammed back into the side of her speeder, then slum ped to the ground.

Behind Tahiri, Jag, with Winter over his shoulder, ducked so the speeder woul d help conceal him from the gaze of the other security of-ficers, but they we re all looking after the fleeing speeder. Over the sound of the alarm and sir ens of arriving vehicles, none had heard Tahiri's attack. "I'll drive,"

Jag s aid.

"I'll drive," Tahiri snapped, sliding into the pilot's seat. "You're about as m aneuverable as a nerf in a child seat with all that on. I doubt you can handle the controls."

"I've flown a starfighter in this." Jag opened the back hatch and carefully slid Winter in, then followed. "Go—"

She had the speeder off the ground before he finished his word, and turned on the lights and siren as she joined the chase. Jag man-aged to get his hatch shut.

* * *

Mirax glanced at Jaina. "You're Slicer?"

"What else would the Sword of the Jedi do but slice?" Jaina ges-tured at th e bounty hunters' vehicle, which had gotten turned around and was headed th eir way. "Don't give them a clear line of fire at you. There's no telling w hat the Quarren's weapon can do."

"Right." Whether that was a confirmation or an indication of direc-tion, Ja ina didn't know, but Mirax abruptly vectored rightward, down a narrow acces sway normally used by waste haulers and maintenance workers. It was a surfa ce-level tunnel, opening to the sky each time it came to a thoroughfare. Th e violence of the maneuver threw Jaina across Seff's body and against the h atch on the left side. Seff remained unconscious.

Five security speeders and the bounty hunters' vehicle followed, the bounty h unters third in line.

* * *

"Running out of time." There was a shrill edge to Tahiri's words. "As soon a s they get more pursuit on Jaina, this becomes a chase we can't win."

"Hoth is still out. And now we have to yank this vehicle's recorder. Since yo u're using real names."

"Right, sorry. If I can get you to the cargo hauler, can you disable it?"

Jag straightened up from looking at Winter. He stared over Tahiti's shoulder

. They were now halfway along the accessway and accelerat-ing. Their speeder was last in line, and it did not appear that any of the security troopers i n the pursuit had realized that the last security vehi-cle was occupied by h ostiles. "I lost my blaster. I have some knockout grenades

—no, wait. Get me within reach of the underside." That was an insane thing to expect of an ord inary pilot, but Jedi tended to be no more ordinary than Jag himself.

Tahiri nodded and accelerated. She passed beneath the fourth secu-rity speed er so close to the surface that Jag could feel the repulsors pushing off fro m permacrete below; he could see debris at road level being kicked in all di rections by their thrust wash. The next speeder forward was too low for such a maneuver, so Tahiri climbed, her vehi-cle's aft grazing the nose of the s peeder she'd just passed. She went as high as the tunnel ceiling would allow

, climbing over the speeder in front of her.

The unexpected repulsor wash kicked that speeder downward and to the left. J
ag heard it scrape along the tunnel wall, and then it was behind them, rolli ng at surface level, sending out showers of sparks. He winced, hoping that t he security troopers inside, innocent of wrongdoing in this mess, would be a ll right.

The bounty hunters' vehicle was directly ahead now, and the Quarren in the be d only had eyes for Mirax's speeder. Tahiri dipped again, moving up directly beneath the hauler, rising as close to it as she could against its repulsor t hrust.

Jag slapped down his helmet's face shield, lowered the transparisteel in his viewport, and reached up for the speeder's underside. Repulsor thrust hammere d at his arm, forcing it down. He could over-come that pressure, but still co uldn't reach the vehicle's underside; it was centimeters out of his reach.

Cursing, he opened his hatch. Gripping the speeder's roof with one crushgau nt, he half stood, his knees straining as the repulsor thrust from above sh oved him down.

There was a sudden flash of light as they and the other vehicles of the cara van crossed a thoroughfare, exposing them momentarily to sky and lights from traffic. Then they were in the next tunnel.

Jag got his left crushgaunt on machinery in the hauler's underbelly. He exe rted himself, and the strength-augmenting servos in the gaunt-let squeezed the repulsor nozzles out of recognizable shape. Next he grabbed a maneuveri ng thruster vent, destroying it similarly, and then there was the auxiliary energy cell—

That actually exploded as he squeezed it, a minor detonation that pelted hi m with little shards of metal. He felt stings in his neck and upper arms. T
hen smoke billowed from the area he'd damaged.

The cargo hauler slowed, dropping behind Tahiri's speeder. Jag saw the Kuh woman staring at her control console and pounding on the yoke; then she l ooked up and caught sight of him.

Had he been another man, he would have offered her some flippant gesture

, but he was Jagged Fel, known among pilots and Jedi every-where as the most humorless—

Come to think of it, he wasn't Jag Fel right now. He was a mystery man, and needed for his role in this affair never to be associated with Jag Fel.

So h e blew a kiss to Zilaash Kuh before resuming his seat and slamming the hatch shut. Kuh's vehicle dropped farther behind until it was lost in the distance.

* * *

Mirax had to shout for Jaina to hear her. "Two pursuers down."

"The next to last one is ours," Jaina shouted back. "Tahiri and Jag are in i t." She got back to work, bringing out the sedative pack that all the Darkme ld conspirators on this mission were carrying. She injected Seff with its co ntents. This was slow work; Mirax's aerobatics with the speeder made even th e simplest medical procedure next to impossible.

Finally it was done. Making sure her garment hood was up, con-cealing her features, she turned away from Seff and back toward the pursuers.

Even for an experienced Jedi Knight, it took concentration to lift a speeder telekinetically, especially when its rapid movements made it a difficult targ et. But she found it, grasped it, and shoved it sideways— gently but irresist ibly. Its right side ground into the tunnel wall, abrading the metal there, f illing the vehicle's main compartment with sparks and smoke. Suddenly the pil ot was decelerating, descending, in a fran-tic effort to retain control of hi s vehicle.

She did the same with the next vehicle, and then, as Tahiri closed, with the l ast vehicle in the caravan.

Suddenly there was no enemy pursuit. Tahiri switched her lights and siren of f.

Jaina, more familiar with Coruscant than most of the others, navi-gated, gu iding Mirax to a shadowy nook off a major thoroughfare. The two speeders se ttled there in the darkness.

Jag took a moment to yank the security speeder's recording device and crush it beyond any possible retrieval of data. Then the five con-spirators gather ed. Winter, though groggy, her reflexes shot, was at least awake again.

"All right." Jaina looked at each of the others—confused but res-olute Mira x, sweaty but confident Jag, relieved Tahiri, pale but smiling Winter. "We'

re almost done. Mirax, you'll come with me. We need to steal another speede r, then pick up the rest. Then you'll drop me on a specific rooftop not far from where all that mess took place. Jag, do you need to get back to the I mperial Remnant embassy?"

"Galactic Empire. And yes."

"All right. Drop Jag off near there. Then, Tahiri, I need you to guide Mirax to the Masters' speeder hangar access at the Temple. Tekli will get you in."

While Jaina and Mirax were gone, Winter removed forensic evi-dence from th e security speeder and Mirax's stolen red vehicle. Jag pulled off all his armor, dressing once more in the now ridiculously large black tunic. After Jaina and Mirax returned with the new acqui-sition, a sturdy yellow hard-top speeder with enough room for two adults, eight younglings, and a Wooki ee, Jag stored his armor in its cargo compartment, along with the Quarren'

s net and incriminating items of clothing. Stripped of armor, he once agai n became a well-muscled man of normal size.

Jaina gave him one last, worried look. "Not too many non-Mandos have besk ar breastplates and crushgaunts. The fact that you do isn't well known, b ut—"

He put a finger on her lips to shush her. "There's nothing to worry about. I have an alibi. Like all sensible Heads of State, I have a double, hard at wor k pretending to be me back in my quarters."

She moved his finger aside. "My mother didn't use a double."

"Well, she was clearly crazy."

That drew a short laugh from Winter. The others looked at her.

Winter indicated herself, Jaina, and Jag. "That sounds like a toast for all o ur families. Here's to crazy women, and the pilots who pursue them."

Jag raised an imaginary glass in her direction.

Chapter Twenty-four

CAVERNS OF THE HIDDEN ONE, DORIN

BEN WASN'T GLASSY-EYED, BUT HE WANTED TO BE. Hours of using pickaxes to hack away at living rock had tired and infuriated him. In theory, he and Luke were doing this to carve out their permanent quarters in the resid ential gallery, a process that would take years; in truth, Ben knew they wouldn't be here anywhere near that long, which meant that every blow w ith the pickax was a wasted one.

But now, work done for the day, after a sanisteam, dressed in fresh clothes

—even if they were the horribly dull robes worn by everyone in these cavern s—Ben felt a little better as he and his father walked to their audience wi th the Hidden One.

Ben glanced at his father. "So, what's your strategy?"

Luke frowned, puzzled. "Strategy?"

"To convince him to let us out of this hole."

"Ben, what's our objective here?"

"To get out!"

"The objective that brought us to Dorin in the first place."

"Oh. To find out about Jacen."

"If we were to march in there and demand our release, and he agreed and so mehow magically transported us to the surface, we would have failed in ach ieving that objective."

"Well, yeah. Ultimately it's the more important one."

"Ultimately, yes. But since we're under no time pressure, let's han-dle things in a logical order."

Ben let out a sigh.

They left the main corridor and entered the communal dining hall, which was all but empty at this midpoint hour between afternoon and evening servings

. It was not that large a chamber; there were fewer than fifty Kel Dors in these caverns, and the hall could accommodate all of them. Tables and bench es meticulously cut out of stone and sanded into straight, clean lines were arrayed in neat ranks for the din-ers, flanked by matched stone benches.

The Hidden One sat alone at the nearest table. He nodded at the Skywalkers as they entered.

The informality bothered Ben. The Hidden One was effectively a king, thou gh his kingdom was tiny, and yet he was not accompanied by advisers for a n important meeting with a fellow Master.

Luke seated himself opposite the Hidden One. "Thank you for see-ing us."

Ben slid into place beside his father.

The Hidden One offered a toothless smile. "It is no inconvenience. The oppo rtunity to talk with those fresh from the surface world is one of our few p leasures. As I understand it, you wanted to know about Jacen Solo."

"Yes."

"He came here—that is, to the temple in Dor'shan—about nine years ago, very full of life, very sure of himself. He wanted knowledge of the Force, espe cially as it was understood by those outside his Order."

"Did you see any sign in him . . ." Luke paused to consider his phrasing. "

Of what he was to become?"

"I think there were scars on his spirit, but they seemed to be well healed.

From my many conversations with him, I concluded that his childhood had been an unsettled one, and that he had severed himself from much of it, as thoug h it were dead flesh that needed to be cut away lest it endanger his life."

He looked at Ben. "You arc his cousin, no? Is it the same with you?"

Ben shook his head. "You're not going to have a normal childhood in this fam ily, and I guess I have some things in common with Jacen. Separated from our parents for long stretches. I was tortured, too, but not as long as Jacen w as." He saw his father suppress a wince. "I don't know if, when I get to be Jacen's age, I'll want to cast my childhood off, but I don't think so.

If on ly because, if he did, he's a bad example to follow."

"Interesting."

Luke continued, "And you taught him the lightning-rod tech-niques."

"First, I taught him techniques of weather anticipation and the ability to se nse energy piling up in the natural world. You can feel heat in the water in the seas, heat that will become cyclonic storms, for in-stance. But he heard rumor of the lightning-rod techniques and asked about them."

"Did he teach you anything?"

"I trained against him in combat."

Luke's eyebrows rose. "You're one of the Baran Do with combat training?"

"I am. In life, I was the teacher of Charsac Saal, who is now Chara. The Ba ran Do who study combat train mostly in unarmed and staff combat, and I was interested in learning to defend against the lightsaber."

"What was your conclusion there?"

"The lightsaber is a weapon of the Force and, if you are not simi-larly arme d, must be countered with the Force."

Luke nodded in agreement. "Did you have any sense of a problem Jacen migh t have been dealing with, an overriding fear or concern?"

"No. I think he was a man at peace. I would not say he was happy— but he was at peace."

Luke sat back to think.

Ben asked, "When he left Dorin, did he say or give any indication as to whe re he was going next?"

"No, I believe not." The Hidden One's eyes looked back through the years. "

He had been talking about returning to Coruscant. I think his search for kn owledge was finished for the time being. But there was something . . . One day he asked me what I knew about places where the energies of the Force co ncentrate and linger, though there is no in-dication as to why they do so."

Luke sat forward again. "I trained in one such place. A nexus of Force ene rgy on a small swamp world."

"Late in his stay, he evidenced a sudden interest in such things. I believe he had found something in his studies of written materials, though not our s—perhaps something he had brought along from one of his other stops."

"But he mentioned no names or places."

"No."

Luke glanced at his son. "That's about it for me. Does anything else occur t o you?"

"Well, on another subject."

"Go ahead."

Ben looked the Hidden One square in the eye. "Are you going to kill the J
edi who come looking for me and my dad?"

The Hidden One's eyes widened. "Kill them? That is not what we do."

"But they will come. And when they don't get answers that help them, they'll send someone like Master Horn, who's trained in inves-tigation. He'll figur e things out. So my question is, how many are you going to kill in order to keep your little secret?"

"This is not a little secret." The Hidden One seemed almost embar-rassed by his outburst; he looked back and forth to see if anyone had witnessed it, th en returned his attention to Ben. He leaned forward. "This is the seed of th e Baran Do, the seed that must take root if the Order itself dies. You have never lived in a time when the threat of ex-tinction of an entire way of lif e was very real—"

Ben laughed outright. "I was born halfway through the Yuuzhan Vong War.

Re member that? Maybe, as far out as you are, you didn't hear much about it.

Some of my earliest memories are of hiding, sur-rounded by darkness, knowi ng that if we were found we'd be wiped out. Here I am again, same situatio n." He gestured at the gray-black stone walls of the chamber.

"People are still afraid of it, afraid of anni-hilation by some unknown enemy.

War tra uma. Civilians and soldiers both get it. I think it's what you've got."

"You little larva." The Hidden One was almost spitting in his anger. "Are yo u too stupid to realize that you Jedi are facing a new purge?"

Ben gave him a scornful look.

"There's the arrogance of youth." The Hidden One turned to Luke. "Surely yo u know better. You're about to experience another purge. If you're unprepar ed for it, the Jedi may wink out once again, this time forever."

Luke shook his head. "I don't think so. I've dealt with Chief of State Daala d irectly. She has no agenda of destruction."

"She has none, perhaps. What of her subordinates? What of her mil-itary pl anners, all of whom came to power in the wake of a war made so much more h orrible by a Jedi? Recent history is not unknown to me; we get the holonew s feeds here." The Hidden One began count-ing off on his fingers.

"One, th e leader of the Jedi Order, once im-mensely popular, is discredited. The J
edi Order is weakened. Two, he is sent off into exile, depriving the Order of his strength and wisdom. The Order is weakened again. Three, each Jedi is accompanied by an observer who tells the government where he or she is at every mo-ment. The Jedi arc suddenly more vulnerable to a mass attack, a mass extermination. How soon before the Jedi are wearing tracking devic es? How long before they are implanted with explosives? All in the name of Alliance safety?"

Luke gave him a flat, hard stare. "You're wrong."

"You're wrong! You have made your own Order vulnerable. The fate of the Jed i now rests with leaders who are weaker and less experi-enced than you. Tha t decline will continue until the Order is locked in a hopeless struggle wi th its government and all but helpless. Then it will die again."

Ben smiled at him, a scornful smile. "And do you oppose the de-struction of the Jedi Order?"

"Of course I do!"

"Even though you're helping it along by keeping us prisoner."

The Hidden One stood, and Ben thought for a moment that the Kel Dor woul d attack him. Then the Hidden One stepped away and departed, walking so fast that his robes whirled around him.

When he was gone, Luke gave Ben a look of mild reproach. "You really need to work on your adolescent confrontational impulses."

"That wasn't adolescent, Dad. It was an investigational impulse."

Luke looked quizzical. "It's true, you're not demonstrating the emotions I'd e xpect of a testy sixteen-year-old."

"Questioning can't always be polite and courteous, Dad. I learned that fro m Lon Shevu. At a certain point, you push and you see how they respond."

H
e gestured in the direction the Hidden One had taken. "And what did he rea ct to? Enemies. The Alliance government possibly destroying the Jedi. The Jedi looking for us and possibly find-ing him. Everyone's out to get him, Dad."

"In other words, he's paranoid."

"At least. He might even be crazier than a piranha-beetle with a pin through its head."

"Possibly. The problem . . ." Luke thought about it. "The problem is, he may also be right. The Jedi Order is vulnerable, and it may be in genuine dange r."

"We need to see if we can reach Jaina or Aunt Leia through the Force."

Luke shook his head. "I tried, last night, several times. There's some inter ference here . . . either the first Hidden One chose this spot very well, be cause it naturally concealed his followers from searchers using the Force, o r the Baran Do have perfected some technique that accomplishes the same thin g. Either way, contact seems unlikely. We're on our own."

* * *

UNDERGROUND ACCESS SHAFT, KESSEL

"Mission control to Rogue. Report. Over."

Wedge, hovering in his X-wing only a few meters from the new shaft in the c halk-white soil ahead of him, activated his helmet mike. "Rogue here. I'm g etting too old for this."

"Copy that, too old." Koyi Komad, Nrin Vakil's Twi'lek wife, act-ing as mi ssion control, sounded amused. "Begin your decline."

"You mean descent.'" Wedge eased his X-wing forward until he was directly ov er the shaft. Other starfighter ringed the shaft at the same altitude; their pilots were waiting for similar authorization from Koyi.

Wedge reduced power on his repulsors and began to descend. In moments he wa s surrounded by stone wall, so recently drilled that his repulsor wash cons tantly kicked dust and pebbles free. He activated his landing floods so he could lean to either side and sec through the canopy into the depths below.

Over his comm board came the next exchange: "Mission control to Homegirl, report."

"Control, Homegirl." Inyri Forge sounded crisp and alert, not af-fecting the unconcerned drawl that so many retired pilots including Wedge, did.

"Everyt hing's in the green."

"Homegirl, start your descent."

It was a quick two kilometers down for Wedge; he spent it listening to the others reporting and being issued their go orders. There was no diminishmen t of comm signal strength, as Lando's crews had situated communications rep eater units in the tunnels. Wedge had been warned that the farther away fro m the entry point he ventured, the more likely it became that signal streng th would periodically wane or be lost; Lando's crews had not had the time o r resources to saturate these tunnels with the repeaters.

At the bottom of the shaft, Wedge found himself in a broad, high-vaulted tun nel as straight as a proton torpedo's trajectory. He con-sulted his navigati on screen, brought his X-wing around to starboard, and kicked in the thruste rs.

Of course, in this environment, a starfighter would not ridiculously outcla ss an ordinary speeder in velocity. They couldn't afford full starfighter s peed in a place where sudden turns, debris, and even dan-gerous life-forms might pop up every kilometer or two. But with high explosives and Han's ane cdotal energy spiders around, he'd much pre-fer to be surrounded by composi te armor and shields than a thin durasteel carapace.

He followed the route indicated on his nav board, a dotted line that led hi m far away from the entry point. Each pilot would be doing the same, headin g off to a distant start point widely separated from the others. Then each would begin an even more complicated route back, dropping a lethal demoliti on package in each cavern he or she visited. Pilots would be making rearmin g stops, too; Wedge's X-wing could only carry a total of six missiles, so h e'd be making one or two such stops.

Wedge felt the old familiar tightening of his gut and shoulders. This wasn't a combat mission, but people could die . . . and if they failed, a world woul d perish.

* * *

Han and Leia, in the cockpit of the Falcon, watched the last starfighter. Nr in Vakil's A-wing, begin its descent. The Falcon would be up next. Han turne d to look over his shoulder at Allana, who was in the rear seat. "All strapp ed in, kid?"

Allana nodded, solemn.

"As am I," C-3PO assured him from beside Allana. "I assume your failure t o ask the same of me means that you assumed I would be prop-erly restrain ed."

Han turned forward again. "You should always be properly re-strained, Gol denrod."

"I'm sorry, sir?"

Leia shot Han a reproachful look. "Han means you should always be safe, T
hreepio."

"Obviously what I meant." Han tapped a button on his comm board. "You se cure, Artoo?"

An affirmative whistle emerged from the speakers. R2-D2 was back in the e ngineering space, ready to deal with any mechanical problems that might o ccur.

"Millennium Falcon, this is mission control. Report status."

"We're having a party here," Han reported, prompting a giggle from Allana

. "How about you?"

"Wishing I were. You are cleared to go."

Han eased forward, then began a careful descent. The hole dug for this purp ose, spacious by starfighter standards, barely accommodated the Falcon or t he two ships to follow. Han cautiously eyed the distance-to-obstacles reado uts as he descended.

But soon enough he was at bottom level again and taking a route that would gradually lead the Falcon to the southeast.

* * *

The first several caverns went without incident for Wedge. He'd hov-ered in the entryway to a cavern, armed his proton torpedo system, taken careful a im at the explosives mound in the center, and fired. The missile, with its comparatively inexpensive thermal detonator warhead instead of an expensive

, ship-crippling proton torpedo, had flashed across the intervening space a nd buried itself in the ground a few me-ters from the mound. Within moments

, sparkly balls of light, bogeys, had arrived from floor or ceiling or dist ant banks of machinery. Wedge had turned away and kicked in his thrusters, and that was it.

Approaching his fifth cavern, Wedge saw its entrance tunnel alive with anim als—centipedes especially, and one big crimson spider. They were fleeing, s ome of them attacking one another as they went. He nodded; one of the speed ers with a sonic unit had recently been here and accomplished its mission.

He approached this cavern cautiously; the speeder's presence might have sti rred up bogeys here, and he'd hate to have one knock out his starfighter's systems, even temporarily. But as he reached the cavern entrance, there wer e no bogeys in sight, and only a couple showing up on the X-wing's sensors; they seemed to be at the cavern's far entrance.

Wedge hovered, fired his payload, and turned away.

There was a clunk from immediately above and Wedge jumped as a green centi pede, a meter long, suddenly appeared on the canopy over his face.

The cre ature coiled and struck, its tail-end stinger hammering the transparisteel

.

It did not penetrate. Several cubic centimeters of black liquid that had to be venom oozed out over the canopy. The centipede struck again and again, the successive strikes accompanied by decreasing amounts of venom.

"Sorry, little guy." Wedge eased his starfighter forward. "Nothing for you to eat here."

Wedge's astromech tweetled at him from behind, barely audible through the canopy but easy to hear through the X-wing's comm sys-tem. Wedge checked the comm board translation output to make sure he'd understood.

"That's right, Roll-On. One more missile and we have to rearm."

The centipede, responding to either the R2 unit's noise or the ro-tation of its head, scrabbled its way aft over the canopy toward the droid. Dividing h is attention between tunnel ahead and what was tran-spiring behind, Wedge wa tched its progress.

The creature came within half a meter of Roll-On and stopped there, raising it s tail to strike.

A small panel on the astromech's front opened. A probe extended and touched the centipede. There was a faint zatt noise and a flash of blue as an electr ical charge hit the insect. The centipede spasmed and, stunned, fell off the X-wing. Roll-On retracted its lead and shut the panel.

Wedge grinned. With luck, that would be the most dangerous enemy action h e'd have to face today.

* * *

Later, at a tunnel intersection broad enough to be considered a cavern itse lf, Wedge set his X-wing down beside two other vehicles.

One was a cargo speeder with a long bed loaded with plastic crat-ing. In h is career, Wedge had seen more of those crates than he could possibly reme mber. Each held six or eight proton torpedoes. Unload-ing one crate were a sandy-haired young man, who spared a smile and a wave for Wedge, and a lo ader droid half again the height of its human partner, its bulky frame des igned for lifting strength and slow movement.

Nearby sat the operation's sole Eta-5 interceptor. Its body was sim-ilar to that of an A-wing, sleek and wedge-shaped, but extending port and starboard from the fuselage were struts to which inwardly curved solar wing arrays, li ke those of the old Eta-2, were attached. The starfighter was painted a deep blue but carried no planetary or other service markings.

Leaning against it was its pilot, Rhysati Ynr, a lean, blond woman dressed in a black variation on the A-wing pilot's uniform. She pushed herself aw ay from the hull and walked to the X-wing as soon as Wedge popped his cano py. "Awake yet, General?"

"Reluctantly."

"This'll wake you up." Rhysati turned back toward the young man handling her missile rearmament. "Hey, kid, come over here and in-troduce yourself

."

Obliging, the teenager trotted over. He was compact of frame and wore a t an jumpsuit. He extended a hand up to Wedge. "Good morn-ing, sir. I'm Dra than Forge."

Wedge shook his head and raised an eyebrow. "Forge. Inyri's nephew?"

"Great-nephew, actually."

"And you work for Lando?"

"For now. Mostly as a mechanic. But I'm a good flier. I've put in an applica tion to the academy. I have provisional acceptance. I have to keep my grades up for the next year."

"Good luck with that."

The loader droid straightened from the Eta-5 and turned its inverted-triangl e head toward Drathan. "Twelve missiles loaded and reporting online." Its vo ice rang metallically.

"All right." The young man gestured at the X-wing. "Let's prep six proton f ormats for this one." With a half salute for Wedge, he headed back to resum e his work.

Wedge returned his attention to Rhysati. "How's Nawara?"

"Wishing he were here with me. If he weren't trying to dig the Jedi out of a legal hole, he'd be flying something on this operation."

Wedge gestured at her interceptor. "Looks fast."

"You've never flown one?"

He shook his head. "I've done some simulator work, but never ac-tually bee n in one. My daughter Syal flew them."

"You want to trade for the rest of the operation?"

Wedge blinked. "What, in the middle of a mission?"

"Sure. This isn't the armed forces, Wedge. It's more like a heavily armed ba chelor party. What's Lando going to do to us if we trade?"

Wedge scrambled out of his cockpit. He knew it was an unseemly spectacle fo r a retired officer. On the other hand, it was no longer his job to set a g ood example.

Chapter Twenty-five

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

TAHIRI AND MIRAX CARRIED SEFF BETWEEN THEM, his arms over their should ers as though he were a drunk comrade; he was not heav-ily built and t hey were strong women, so it was his awkwardness rather than his weigh t that posed the greatest problem. Tekli preceded them, and Winter fol lowed behind.

They hauled the unconscious Jedi through the darkened speeder hangar, tryin g to keep themselves as calm and centered as possible; other Jedi, especial ly the Masters whose hangar this was, were more likely to sense distress. B
ut no one met them in the corridor outside the hangar, and no one approache d them as they made their way to the nearest turbolift.

As they neared the lift, it hummed with the sound of an arriving car. Tahir i and Mirax got Seff spun around and made it with Winter and Tekli to a dar kened nook before the turbolift door opened.

Tekli peered into the hall and breathed a sigh of relief. She motioned the ot hers forward. They stepped out again and saw that it was Jaina awaiting them at the lift.

"Any problems with your observer?" Tahiri asked. They moved into the lift car.

"No. He sympathized with me for not catching any petty criminals tonight."

J
aina blinked, affecting an expression of innocence. "It looks like my night'

s outing was a complete failure."

Tekli addressed the turbolift controls: "Second medical level."

* * *

The lower medical level was a solemn, quiet area of bare walls and win-dowle ss doors—not too different, Tahiri reflected, from the prison she'd just vis ited.

At the back of one medical supplies storage chamber was a door marked radio active materials. authorized access only. The door had a security pad besid e it. Tekli tapped in the access code. "Master Cilghal and I are the only o nes authorized to enter. Even Master Ham-ner must come to us.

This is the l esser of two radiation storage cham-bers. I've moved all the materials that belong here into the primary chamber." The door slid open, and they moved through into a small outer chamber; inset in the right wall was a swing-out door as thick as a blast door. Through it was another chamber, this one se t up with a heavy patient bed and a bank of monitoring equipment.

In minutes, they had Seff strapped down to the bed and hooked up to the moni tors. Finally Jaina could breathe a sigh of relief; this mis-sion was done, and now the Jedi could begin to benefit from the knowledge Seff might provid e. She turned to Tekli. "You're all right here?"

"Fine, fine."

"Everybody, come on up to the main level. You can get cleaned up—plenty o f extra clothes around—and grab a cup of caf. Rest for a few minutes."

Mirax shook her head. "Have to get back to our quarters. There's no telling when Corran will be back."

Winter looked regretful, too. "I wish I could."

Jaina sighed. "I'll get you back out through the same hangar you came in by No worries. Tahiri?"

Tahiri appeared dubious. "I don't know. There are plenty of Jedi who don

't remember me fondly—"

"And they should know that you and I are on good terms. It'll make them thi nk about things." Jaina's tone was firm. "Come on."

"All right."

* * *

Fresh from a sanisteam and in clean garments, Jaina and Tahiri nursed fresh c ups of caf and talked, their voices low. At this hour of night, the common di ning hall was all but unoccupied, with the banks of over-head glow rods along the walls switched off, leaving only those in the center of the ceiling stil l shining. It was a restful place, particularly after the events of less than an hour earlier. Tahiri looked around, her ex-pression wistful.

"You miss it?"

Tahiri nodded.

"Then come back."

Tahiri shook her head. "No. Not yet, anyway . . . Have you sud-denly acqui red the Luke Skywalker urge to save everybody, one person at a time?"

"Better than the Darth Vader urge to make the galaxy a better place by destr oying everything that doesn't behave."

"True. Jacen had enough of that for both of you."

A man entering the dining hall paused in the shadows by the main doorway, then headed their way. As he emerged from the darkness, Jaina saw that i t was Dab.

He waved as he approached. "Jedi Solo. You couldn't sleep, either?"

"That's it. Dab, you remember Tahiri Veila."

"Do I ever." Reaching their table, he extended a hand toward Tahiri. "Goo d to see you again. You probably don't remember me. From Borleias. Dab Ha ntaq."

From the corner of her eye, Jaina caught Tahiti's sudden stillness. She turned to see Tahiri frozen in place, her caf cup halfway to her lip. Her eyes were wide, her expression as stunned as if she'd just shot her-self while cleaning her blaster.

And then Jaina realized why. Inwardly, she cringed. She made her voice ver y gentle. "Tahiti, you knew him as Tarc. Remember little Tarc?"

"Tarc," Tahiri repeated. "Little Tarc. Yes, of course." Her voice was almost mechanical.

Dab dropped his hand to his side. "Would you two care for com-pany?"

Jaina shook her head. "Girl talk. Sorry."

"Understood. Good night, ladies." Dab turned and headed off in search of the caf cart.

Slowly, Tahiri set her cup down. "He's . . . he's Anakin."

Jaina nodded. "Remember, that's why Senator Shesh chose him all those year s ago. A distraction because of the way he looked."

"You could have told me."

"I had gotten used to it. I wasn't even thinking about it when I put the Darkm eld team together. I forgot. I'm sorry."

"Forgot. I spent months getting myself addicted to seeing him, Anakin, and then a couple of years trying to get over it. And, boom, he's here." Tahi ri was pale and she shook as if with cold. "And you want me to come back?

With him here every day?"

"The observers won't be here forever. Nawara Ven says that the High Court i s leaning toward reviewing the whole executive order about the Jedi. If the y do, they're sure to strike down most of its pro-visions, including the ob servers—"

"That's not the luck I deserve, and it's not what I'll get." Tahiti's expressi on turned bleak. "I'll come back, and they'll give me him as an observer. That

's what will happen."

Desperate to wrench Tahiti's attention from the man who looked like the long

-dead love of her life, Jaina flailed through memories of the night's events

. "Your lightsaber."

"What?"

"You lost your lightsaber at the prison."

Tahiri nodded, confused.

"If they find it. . ."

"Oh." With a visible act of will, Tahiri yanked her thoughts away from Dab. "

I don't think it will be a problem."

"Why not?"

"It's probably crushed under tons of rock. It may never be found. If it is...

well, it's new I didn't want to use my old Jedi lightsaber any-more. I just b uilt that one. The hilt design won't have been recorded anywhere. I was weari ng gloves tonight, so no fingerprints. And non-conductive gloves when I was a ssembling it, so no prints inside."

"Good."

"But Jag lost his blaster at the same time—"

"Also not a problem. That model is custom-built for him. Big enough for him to hold with his gauntlets on. Unless he throws a switch on the butt, if it'

s separated from him for more than a certain number of seconds, it blows up.

"

"That's strange. Your boyfriend's strange."

"I know."

Tahiri's gaze wandered over to where Dab now sat, alone at one long table, peering into the tiny playback screen of his holocam, doubtless reviewing r ecent recordings. She stood. "I have to go."

"Tahiri, I don't think you ought to be out on the streets and walk-ways the way you're—"

"Let me know when he's gone forever." Tahiri whirled away and left the dinin g hall at a run.

* * *

UNDERGROUND COMPLEX, KESSEL

It was hours into the mission, and its organizers could begin to relax.

Demolition mounds all through the gigantic cavern-and-tunnel complex had been detonating on schedule. Mission control, Koyi Komad, monitoring even ts from low planetary orbit in the Imperial-era mobile command post Lando and Tendra had overhauled for this operation, reported that the resultin g tremors were doing what they were supposed to—taking place, waning, and then subsiding, doing only the damage to be expected of individual groun dquakes. The pre-cise sequence of detonations was not permitting overlapp ing groundshakes to reinforce one another, and sensors in the Great Kesse l Fault running along the planetary axis reported no undue motion, no dan

-gerous stress.

The Falcon, having fired its last refitted missile into its last target cavern, sat on a tunnel floor only a few kilometers from the exit shaft.

Leia gave Han a curious look. "We really can leave now."

"True."

"Any reason we're not?"

"I'm going to be the last one out." Han knew that he sounded stubborn, may be even sulky, rather than determined, but he didn't care. He'd demonstrat ed far too much nervousness about the under-world of Kessel, and he was de termined to show himself and the planet that he wasn't driven by fear.

Leia glanced back over her shoulder. "Actually, technically, since Allana's in the seat behind us, she's going to be the last one out."

"I should be the last one out." Allana's voice was decisive. "I got to be the la st one to shoot a missile."

Leia smiled. "You sure did, kid."

"Control to Falcon, come in."

"Falcon here." This was, Han hoped, the announcement that all other vehicles were out, and that the only thing left to do was stay clear of the planet's s urface until the explosion sequence had run its course.

"Rearmament Team Epsilon is offline and not reporting in. Sus-pected bogey encounter. You're the closest vehicle with rescue capabilities—our last res cue speeder is bringing a stranded subsonics pilot out now. Can you investi gate?"

"Absolutely. Let's have the coordinates." As Han watched, both a set of XY

Z coordinates based on Kessel's master map and a dotted-line navigational diagram based on the caverns map appeared on his nav console. "Got it, tha nks."

"Control out."

Han brought the Falcon's repulsors up and gently lifted the trans-port from t he rocky tunnel floor.

Leia leaned over to give the navigational diagram a look. "Not very far. He must have been on his way out."

"Well, let's make sure he gets there."

Their route led them through the cavern they'd seen destroyed be-fore their original escape from the complex. Most of the life there had been lost by th e explosion, so the cavern was dim, very little of the phosphorescent fungi on the ceiling remaining.

Once past the far entrance to the cavern, they progressed barely a kilomet er into the connecting tunnel before they saw Epsilon. A human man, young and sandy-haired, he ran toward them as fast as his clearly exhausted legs would carry him, frantically waving at the Falcon as he came. He was alon e and carried no equipment.

Leia unstrapped from her seat. "I'll get him at the boarding ramp." She hur ried aft as Han gently set the Falcon down as close to the run-ning man as he dared. While the transport settled, Han heard the whir of the ramp desce nding. "Hey, Goldenrod, give up your seat for our new passenger.

You can jo in Artoo aft."

"Yes, sir. If I must, sir." C-3PO unstrapped and awkwardly eased past Allana

, then hurried aft.

"Rogue to Falcon, come in."

"Falcon here, Wedge."

"Are you on that rescue call? My exit route takes me out right past that spot, so I'm inbound. I can stand by your retrieval targets until you get there."

"No, thanks, we're already on station." Han heard the ramp lift into position.

"Lifting off in about ten seconds."

"No worries, then. Rogue out."

There was a clatter of feet on deck plates, and Leia and their new passeng er entered the cockpit. Han spared the young man a look. He was drenched w ith sweat and gasping so hard for breath that he was al-most sobbing. "Wha t happened to you, kid?"

The young man dropped into C-3PO's seat, his chest heaving. "Ran."

"Where's your partner?"

"Destroyed. We need to go."

Suddenly uneasy, Han lifted off and spun the Falcon around. "De-stroyed b y what?"

"Energy spider."

Han's breath caught for a moment. He kicked in the thrusters and accelerate d along their exit route. "Tell me you mean one of the new ones, the red on es."

"No, one of the blue ones."

A chill of apprehension climbed Han's spine. "Not good. You said destroyed, not killed. Your partner was a droid?"

"Loader droid. We'd been hearing this skittering noise at our last station. W
e took off for our exit, but we ran into a bogey—literally—which killed our s peeder and our lights, except for pocket glow lamps. The skittering got close r, and then we saw it." Han couldn't see the young man shudder, but he didn't have to; the reaction carried into the young man's voice. "Jayfor told me to run for it. He charged at the spider. Last I saw, it had him all wrapped up and the lights in his eyes were going dark ..."

"Yeah." Han put on a bit more speed.

His sensor board alerted him to a new contact. He glanced at it and saw a d istant blip behind, rapidly overtaking them. For a moment he had the sudden fear that energy spiders could now outrun the Falcon, but the sensor board presented the pursuer's transceiver code as Rogue.

"Wedge, this is Han. You're probably already past it, but there's an energy spider back your way somewhere. Stay alert."

"Haven't seen it. Saw a crashed hauler and a mangled lifter droid. I think i t was the same one Drathan Forge was with."

Han glanced back and saw the name forge on the breast of the boy's jumpsuit.

"It was, but the kid's all right. Just keep your eyes open."

"Will do."

Leia finished buckling herself into the copilot's seat. "You any rela-tion to Inyri Forge?"

"She's my great-aunt."

The Falcon roared through the ruined cavern and into the tunnel beyond.

As they exited the cavern, in his rear holocam display Han could see Wedge's b orrowed Eta-5 entering the cavern at the far end and following.

"Han, this is Wedge. I see your spider."

"Where?"

"On your—"

An insectile leg, like hollow transparisteel filled with a sparkling dark b lue beverage, came down onto the cockpit viewport from above and behind.

"—top hull."

Han jumped. The reflex action might have carried him clear out of his seat b ut for his restraint straps. Allana screamed, a high-pitched peal that went on and on. Drathan said a word that, had Han's entire universe not been focu sed on the blue leg, he would have wished Allana hadn't heard.

The spider had to have come up on the Falcon along the tunnel ceiling.

The creatures absorbed energy; they soaked up anything active sensors had to th row at them and could not be detected by such de-vices. They were nature's perfect predators . . . and now one of them was in reach of his family.

Almost numb with shock but operating on years of training, Han flipped on h is energy deflectors and scanned his weapons board. Con-cussion missiles al l gone. Lasers at full power—no, the power flow wa-vered just for a moment, then spiked back to normal. Ground buzzer antipersonnel blaster operationa l. But nothing could be brought to bear against the spider; the top quad-li nked lasers could not depress far enough to hit something clinging to the t op hull.

Allana continued screaming, despite Leia's efforts to hush her. Leia's eyes were on the viewport above, and her hand was on her lightsaber. Han wanted t o shout, That won't work, the thing will absorb it and then all of us, but h e was too busy. The deflectors were not com-ing up, despite the fact that th eir generators all indicated they were in the green.

fact that th eir generators all indicated they were in the green.

Of course they weren't coming up. The energy spider was drinking in every bi t of energy in its vicinity. And now the thruster engines skipped, a miss of less than half a second's duration, but long enough for Han to feel that hi s heart had stopped for the same amount of time.

The deflector shields weren't doing a bit of good—

Not true. They were still running: if they hadn't been, the spider would hav e been draining energy right out of the occupants of the cockpit, or straigh t from the engines, or both. Han glanced at Leia. "Increase power to the shi elds. Give them everything you can."

She leaned over her controls. "Tell me you have some plan in addi-tion to

'm ore power to the shields.' "

"When I do, I'll tell you."

Allana continued to scream.

The spider leg raised, then hammered down again. It was joined by another, this one featuring a ferocious-looking backspike with a ser-rated edge.

Even over the sounds of Allana's wail, C-3PO's voice carried from the transpor t's aft sections. "I say, sir, I'm not quite strapped in yet—"

They reached a tunnel intersection. Han vectored to port, a hard turn. Bein g slammed sideways in her restraints cut off Allana's breath for a moment.

Han could hear another cry from the rear: "I sayyyyyy—" followed by a crash of a droid into duralloy bulkhead.

On the sensor board, the blip representing Wedge's interceptor was close, a nd his voice came across the comm board: "Han, I have a shot."

Those words sent a new kind of chill down Han's spine. A shot from the inter ceptor's twin lasers, missing the spider and hitting a ship's hull unprotect ed by shields, could punch straight through. And the spider was on top of th e cockpit pod.

On the other hand, Wedge knew that.

"Take your shot."

The tunnel walls lit up red all around them. The Falcon's diag-nostics repo rted no new damage. The energy spider's legs kept hammering—and now it heav ed itself farther forward, its multifaceted eyes at the aft edge of the vie wport, peering down at the living treats within the cockpit. Allana resumed her screams.

"No effect." Wedge's voice sounded as impressed as it did an-noyed.

"Swallo wed up the entire blast. It's like firing into a Yuuzhan Vong coralskipper void."

"Great." Ahead, Han could see a shaft of brightness stretching from floor t o ceiling—sunlight entering through the operation's ac-cess shaft. "Going u p, Wedge."

"I'm on your tail."

The Falcon took the right-angle turn into the climb like the finely tuned sh ip not everyone admitted she was. Han could see a circle of sunlight, their exit point, far above. The blows of the energy spider continued to rain down on the cockpit viewport.

And Han saw, finally, the effect the monstrous creature's attacks were havin g on his beloved craft.

None.

No cracks had appeared on the transparisteel. The viewports were not being kicked free of their housing.

Even without the shields operating, the Falcon was sustaining no damage.

Something eased in Han's chest, like a durasteel spring under ten-sion sudde nly snapping free.

The Millennium Falcon shot out into sunlight toward the pallid pink sky abo ve. Han rolled her over upright.

Things were different than they had been three decades earlier. Han Solo was n't a prisoner, running for his life from a creature far larger, far deadlie r than he was. Behind the controls of the Falcon, he was the Falcon. As Han had once been nothing but a bit of food, the fearsome energy spider was noth ing but a bit of trouble.

Two seconds later, Wedge's interceptor shot up from the shaft en-trance and instantly leveled off in the Falcon's wake. Wedge brought his starfighter above the Falcon, remaining close for further laserfire attempts. The sens or board showed more starfighters and Lady Luck headed his way.

Han grinned, happy as a little kid. "Wedge, break off."

"What?"

"Break off. The situation is under control."

"If you say so." The interceptor climbed, dropping behind as it did so. Cle arly, to Wedge, break off meant "be prepared to return at any moment and op en fire."

Han looked back. Drathan Forge had his arms around Allana, shielding her, though his eyes were as big and as frightened as hers, and fixed as hers w ere on the monster above. "Al—Amelia." Han's voice was now calm and strong enough that not only did the little girl grow quiet, but Leia gave her hu sband a curious look. Drathan, too, tore his gaze away from the unwanted p assenger above.

"Yes?" Allana replied.

"We're going to be all right," Han assured her. His voice was, even to his o wn ears, oddly calm.

The energy spider heaved itself farther forward, even against the tremendou s wind force generated by the Falcon's speedy passage through the air. Now it opened its mandibles. Bluish fluid sprayed from its mouth, splashing acr oss the top part of the viewport.

Han turned forward again. He sent the Falcon into a wide, easy loop back towa rd the shaft. "That's pure spice, Amelia. Notice the way it sparkles in the d irect sunlight. It's being activated and used up."

"Its legs are doing the same thing." The little girl still sounded frightened, but she was finding some comfort in being analytical.

"That's right. If it were to stay out in the sunlight for too long, I think it would probably die. Leia, stand by to reverse inertial compen-sators.

Everybo dy, be prepared to get thrown into your restraints." He raised his voice. "Tha t means you, too, Artoo, Threepio."

"Us too what, sir?"

Han decreased altitude, bringing the Falcon down to less than thirty meters above the surface. Range to the shaft closed to one kilo-meter, half, one-qu arter—

Han nodded at Leia, then brought up the repulsors and fired the reverse thrus ters at power. The ship's rapid deceleration threw all four of them forward.

They slammed into their restraints harder than they should have, Leia's rever sal of the inertial compensator causing it to do just the opposite of what it was supposed to. Instead of cushioning their deceleration, easing the effect s of delta vee, the compensators in-creased those effects.

The energy spider flew off the cockpit as though it were a winged insect, arci ng down to the dusty ground. It hit, rolling, kicking up a tremendous cloud of dust as it went, its legs thrashing. Then it rolled to a stop and righted its elf, turning toward the Falcon.

righted its elf, turning toward the Falcon.

It wasn't unhurt; at least two of its legs were clearly broken, dangling usele ssly. But it was obviously capable of continuing the fight.

"Falcon, Rogue. I have two missiles left, and I have a shot."

Han indicated, by gesture, for Leia to return the inertial compen-sator to n ormal mode. He set the Falcon on a slow climb, traveling backward while cont inuing to face the spider. "Negative on that, old buddy. Just let it go."

"Understood."

The energy spider trotted forward a few meters. The sparkles be-neath its g lassy skin were bright now, sometimes eye-hurtingly intense. It peered up a t the Millennium Falcon and rocked back and forth, seeming to gauge the lea p. But it must have concluded that the dis-tance was too great.

It turned and, with one last look back, scrambled the two hundred meters to t he lip of the shaft. Then it was over the edge and gone into the darkness.

Allana's voice was surprised. "You didn't kill it."

Han felt very tired and unexpectedly relieved. "That's right."

"Why?"

"It was just hungry, sweetie. And, yeah, it wouldn't have been a good thing for it to get us, because it would have killed us . . . but the spider's not evil.

That's just its nature." He turned the Falcon around, orienting toward the mus ter point for the operation.

"You don't hate it anymore?"

"I guess not. Or Kessel, either. Come on up and sit in my lap. You can have your hands on the controls and help me with the landing."

Chapter Twenty-six

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

THE RAID ON THE PRISON WAS ONE OF THE LEADING STORIES on the holonews the next day.

Recordings taken by security holocams in the prison and all around the buil ding offered inconclusive visual information. One intruder, dressed as a ro utine worker, was identified as Jedi Seff Hellin. Two black-clad, masked in truders remained unidentified. The three of them had managed to penetrate t he lower levels of the prison, though whether they were a team or rivals wa s not yet determined.

Their evident objective was the rescue of Jedi Valin Horn. They managed to enter and leave the prison without taking life or doing permanent harm to a ny of the guards on duty, and failed in their ef-forts to free Horn. Outsid e the prison, mercenary units assigned to the Chief of State's office, havi ng already identified Seff Hellin as a Jedi, captured him. But Hellin had i mmediately been rescued by two more confederates, both women, one probably a Jedi, who escaped with him. A high-speed pursuit ensued. The last sight s ecurity officers had had of the situation was of the black-clad intruders i n a stolen security speeder working their way toward Hellin's two female co nfederates.

That was the story as the press understood it. It wasn't a lot of in-formati on for a press corps voracious for information. But in inter-views on the st eps of the Jedi Temple, Master Kenth Hamner, demonstrating dignity and poise

, denied the involvement of the Jedi Temple in these crimes.

On the day after the raid, Captain Oric Harfard, now point man for Alliance Security-Jedi Order interactions, made a visit to the Temple. Master Hamne r met him at the main entrance. The red-faced Harfard did not wait for them to reach the privacy of Hamner's office to begin his questions and complai nts; Jedi along the main hall, including Jaina, heard it all as the two men passed.

"Where is Jedi Hellin?"

Master Hamner gave the captain a cool, indifferent look. "I do not know, and that is the truth."

"Why didn't you tell us that Jedi Hellin had gone rogue, that he would stage a rescue attempt?"

"We told you he had 'gone rogue.' " Hamner's tone was end-lessly but not c heerfully patient, as though he were answering the same question from the same hardheaded child for the thirtieth time. "We told you, when we provid ed you the list of all active Jedi, that he was no longer maintaining cont act with the Temple and was pursuing his own agendas. Hence, 'gone rogue.'

We don't know his plans."

The two of them walked past a group of Jedi, among them Corran Horn.

Jaina winced to see Corran, who looked leaner than she had ever seen him, his exp ression distant and bleak. But as Harfard passed before him, Jaina saw Corr an's expression change. Anger flashed in his eyes. Jaina could feel his ang er in the Force; it struck her like a slap and, intense as it was, she woul d not have been surprised to see him ig-nite his lightsaber and cut the cap tain down. Every Jedi in the Hall turned his way, and Master Hamner gave Co rran a look of worry and caution.

But Corran did not attack, and Harfard remained oblivious to him—or nearl y so: He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he passed Corran, but h e kept talking. "Who was the female Jedi, the one who rescued him from Dh idal Nyz?"

"We don't know her identity. We don't know that she was a Jedi."

"She was using a lightsaber!"

"So does Zilaash Kuh, who works with you.'"

"Kuh's whereabouts last night are very well known."

"My point is that not everybody with a lightsaber is a Jedi. The recording s I saw cannot even prove that the subject you're looking for was either h uman or a woman. Take a lean man and pad his clothes properly—"

The two men reached the turbolift and waited for a car to arrive. Harfard s hook his head, angry and frustrated. "You'll wish you had been more coopera tive." His voice suddenly became low enough that Jaina had to strain to hea r. "The next step is going to be tracking de-vices. Implanted in every one of you Jedi."

Master Hamner drew himself up to his full height and said a few words very, very quietly. Captain Harfard stiffened. Then the lift doors opened and th e two men entered. They were gone a second later.

Jaina whispered to Kolir, a female Bothan Jedi Knight, "I wonder what the M
aster said."

Someone right behind Jaina answered. "He said, 'I would be priv-ileged to show you where such a device might be implanted.' "

Jaina turned. The speaker was Dab. He had his miniature holocam to his face and was peering into its tiny screen. Jaina suspected that Dab had listene d to the Master's words through the device's micro-phone. "Good answer. Inf ormative, yet insulting."

Dab grinned and brought his holocam down. He lowered his voice so only Ja ina could hear. "You know, I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were."

"They're looking for a female mystery Jedi. And there we were last night, no t half a klick from the scene of the crime, and you were out of my sight for

, well, quite a while ... If I had mentioned all that to the captain as he w alked by, he'd be pretty' sure he knew who the mys-tery woman was."

His words sent a chill through Jaina. "Then why didn't you?"

Dab looked straight at her. "My job is to tell the authorities what I know ab out the Jedi. Not what I suspect. My lifelong job as a documentarian is to sh ow the truth and expose lies. If I conclude that the position of my employers

—that the Jedi have to be reined in for the sake of society, and anything the government does to rein the Jedi in is justified—is a lie, it sort of puts m e in an awkward position." He shrugged. "So I don't speculate. I try to figur e out what the right thing to do is, and then do it."

"Very much like a Jedi."

"Maybe."

"Thank you for not speculating, Dab."

"So tell me about Tahiri Veila. After I left you two last night, did she talk about me?"

It took a moment for Dab's intent to click in Jaina's mind. Her jaw dropped for a second. "Dab, you need to stay away from Tahiri."

"Why?"

"Because you look—you look like—"

"I look like your brother Anakin, and they were together just be-fore he die d, and since then something about him has messed her up. Not surprising.

You ng love and tragedy. I've heard the stories. But I'm not Anakin Solo. I don'

t feel I should have to bear the burden of all that he did."

"No, you shouldn't. But Tahiri—"

"I won't hurt Tahiti."

"Yes, you will."

"I've liked her ever since I met her on Borleias. She was sixteen and would never have noticed someone four years younger than she was, but I certainly noticed her.'"

Jaina suppressed the urge to strangle him. "Right. Now that she's recently come out of emotional turmoil involving Anakin, here you are, sniffing arou nd, and things should be just fine. Accident or not, you showed up when she least needed to be reminded of Anakin."

"So, to make sure nobody ever experiences a twinge of pain, I should move t o Dantooine and live in a cave."

"You could move to Mustafar and jump into a volcano instead." Jaina turned a nd headed to the turbolift. Other than specific autho-rized trips to residen tial levels, observers were not allowed below the Great Hall level, and so D
ab could not follow. She heard his exasper-ated sigh as she left him.

She visited the lower medical level and the chamber housing Seff. She tapped on its door, hoping that Tekli was inside to admit her. A moment later, the door opened . . . revealing Master Cilghal within.

Jaina froze. "Uh . . . Master."

"Well said." The Mon Cal Jedi withdrew a pace so Jaina could enter.

"Come i n. Best for this door not to remain open."

Numbly, Jaina stepped in, and Cilghal shut the door behind her. Jaina looked around. Through the portal into the inner chamber, everything was as it sho uld be, Seff strapped to his bed, monitoring devices activated . . .

except that Cilghal was here instead of Tekli. Jaina took a deep breath.

"How did y ou, um . . ."

"Am I supposed to be stupid?"

"People keep asking me that today."

Cilghal moved to Seff s side and began scrutinizing the monitor readouts of the devices measuring his brainwaves.

Jaina followed. "Of course you're not supposed to be stupid."

"Seff Hellin tries to free Valin Horn. We can correctly gauge his in-tent and his relationship with the others in the intrusion even if the au-thorities c annot . . . Jedi end up in possession of Seff. Where is he going to turn up e xcept the Temple? Civil of you to keep Master Hamner in the dark."

"We were trying to keep all the Masters out of the loop."

"Also civil, but not wise. You need me for this. Both for my med-ical exper tise and because I'm the only Jedi in regular communication with the Grand Master."

That revelation rocked Jaina back on her heels. "You've talked to him recent ly?"

"Relatively. He's on Dorin, learning the scanner-blanking tech-nique Valin manifested. I haven't heard from him recently."

"You're risking a lot."

"We're often called a militant Order, but do you know one of the principal differences between the military and the Jedi Order? And please, give me no Solo sarcasm."

"I won't. There are a lot of differences. I can only guess at which one you m ean."

"The military are expected to follow orders, even when they feel those orders are not what's right. The Jedi are expected to do what's right, even when th at course of action runs contrary to orders."

"Well, yes."

Cilghal turned back to Jaina. "Finding out what's wrong with Valin and Seff, helping the Grand Master . . . that's what's right."

Jaina felt a touch embarrassed. "I'm sorry we didn't include you from the star t."

"No harm done. Include me now. I need to know where your mother is.

She an d your father were the first ones to contact Seff in his current distorted condition. I may want them to come and see him as he is now, to gauge whe ther there has been any advancement of his de-mentia."

"They're on Kessel. I'll get you the direct holocomm data you need to contact the Falcon.' '

Cilghal gestured toward the monitor. "Already we have interesting results.

S
eff does not possess Valin's trick of blanking the electroencephaloscan.

The portions of Seff's brain that are active when he dreams have been seeing ac tivity during his waking hours as well, for some considerable time

—these str ess patterns here so indicate."

"Meaning that he's, what, sleepwalking?"

Cilghal shook her head. "But he is in some small way in a dream-like state.

Which may be the first clue toward determining how to re-store him and Val in to normal. So . . . well done."

"Thank you, Master Cilghal."

* * *

CAVERNS OF THE HIDDEN ONE, DORIN

It had been days now since their audience with the Hidden One, and that au dience had not been repeated. Luke and Ben had divided their time among nu merous tasks: digging out the chamber the Baran Do intended to be their pe rmanent quarters, exploring the caverns, and talking to the other dwellers in this lonely environment.

Ben grew impatient. Swinging his pickax at a particularly stubborn outcropp ing of stone, he imagined it was the Hidden One's face, a fantasy that gave him some satisfaction as he worked. "Dad, we need to get out of here."

Luke, shoveling stony debris into a small rolling cart, smiled—the enigmati c, you're-so-young expression that Ben found so annoying. "Is that our obje ctive?"

"Of course it is! We have to get out of here to continue our mission."

"But is it our most immediate goal?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Ben, what is our purpose as Jedi?"

Ben sighed and lowered his pickax. This was going to be one of those conver sations. "Well ... to keep the Force in balance and to help people stay in balance with the Force. To detect wrongs and make them right. To serve as m odels for very attractive lines of boots."

"Let's go back one. Detecting wrongs and righting them. Is there a wrongne ss going on here?"

"Absolutely. They've kidnapped people. Which we can right by es-caping."

"Is that the only wrong?"

Ben lifted his breath mask for a moment, wiped his sweating face with the sleeve of his overlong Kel Dor robe, and lowered the mask into place again

. He exhaled, forcing the helium-rich Dorin atmos-phere out of the mask, t hen took a new breath before answering. "I guess not. These Baran Do are w ronging themselves, too. Following a paranoid down into this hole, pretend ing to be dead—"

"There you go. The Force is an energy of life. These Kel Dors, in pretend ing to be dead, are rejecting life. They're unwittingly becoming dead. Ho w much happiness have you seen down here? How much en-thusiasm?"

"I'd say it reaches pretty far into the negative numbers. They're all about du ty, but not about happiness."

Luke shoveled the last of the larger rocks into his cart. "So if we es-cape now, what happens to them?"

Ben slumped, defeated. "They continue to live their nasty little lives and not hing gets better."

"Correct."

"They brought it on themselves."

"Spoken with all the sympathy and altruism of a teenager who'd rather be d oing something else."

Ben grinned, unabashed. "You've got that right."

* * *

In his free time, Ben set out to uncover the cavern's secrets.

First there was the question of the trigger the Hidden One was sup-posed to h ave that would collapse the tunnel leading to the surface. It had been said t hat the Hidden One could activate it through the Force or by physical action.

Ben set out to find out where that trigger was.

When the largest hall was empty, he searched the Hidden One's throne and th e platform it rested on. It took him mere moments to find what he was looki ng for. The throne, though seemingly cut from a single block of white stone

, was not; close examination showed that it was assembled from several piec es, their seams so fine and patterns so well matched that the deception was undetectable by anyone more than a few centimeters away.

The right armrest lifted outward on hinges, and beneath it was a single button—round, black, inset in a red depression. That had to be it.

But Ben frowned at the discovery. Would a paranoid mind be con-tent with on e easily disabled trigger for his ultimate act?

Ben restored the armrest to its closed position and sat on the plat-form next to the throne. He dared not sit on the throne itself; the Hidden One, a Force-user, was even more likely to detect that he had been there if he rested in th e seat of power.

Ben relaxed, letting the Force flow through him. He thought of nothing but t he trigger beside him, seeking anything related to it-images, flashes of ins ight about the future—

Up.

Ben looked upward. He saw only shadows in the irregular stone ceiling four meters up, but something there had all but called him. He stood, stepped on to the throne armrest he had so recently closed, and sprang upward, giving himself a little boost in the Force.

In the ceiling directly over the throne, his fingers gripped either side of a hole, about the size of a human head, cut into the stone. He hung there a fe w moments as his eyes adjusted to the reduced light. Then he saw it: a polish ed durasteel cylinder protruding twenty cen-timeters from the rock above.

Ben concentrated on it, trying to obtain through the Force some sense of ho w it worked. He could feel its length, nearly another meter inset in the st one, and machinery above it—simple mechanical parts made of durable metals.

It was simple, all right. Drive the cylinder home, like a plunger, and conta ct with something above it would relay the signal to detonate the charges in the entry tunnel. Without being able to look at the device, Ben doubted he would be able to disable it. Thoughtful, he dropped back to the platform.

In the hall where he regularly trained in combat against Chara, he found ano ther such apparatus in the ceiling. And in the dormitory where he, Luke, and four male Kel Dors slept, another. The next day, Ben determined that every chamber of any significant size had one of these triggering devices in it. T
he Hidden One was clearly determined to be able to seal these caverns if he felt the need.

Later that day, Luke joined the audience for combat training. Not many Kel Dors were in attendance. Chara was on hand; Ithia, the fe-male who had been beside Ben's canister upon his arrival in the cav-erns, led the proceeding s. A Kel Dor male, younger than the others, merely sat and watched.

Ben went a few minutes against Chara, staff against staff. Chara was still far more experienced with the weapon, but Ben was able to defend himself lo nger and get in more good blows than when he'd first faced Charsae Saal.

Next, Ithia took the combat ring against Chara. They were obvi-ously oppon ents of many years' acquaintance, for Ithia immediately matched her combat style to Chara's. Ithia was more fluid and evasive, Chara more aggressive and direct; the contrast was a pretty one, and Ben enjoyed watching the p roceedings.

Luke spoke to the young Kel Dor observing the sparring. "I'm Luke Skywalk er."

The youth glanced at him, uncomfortable. "I am Wyss."

"You're younger than most of the Kel Dor here."

Wyss nodded, his attention back on Ithia and Chara. He unconsciously lean ed away from Luke as if hoping the man would just leave him alone.

"Will you be training?"

Wyss shook his head. "I am not a sage. I am a servant."

"But you could still learn. You're obviously interested."

" 'As in life, so in death.' "

That statement, so obviously a quote, so evidently a tolerated rather than a welcome philosophy if Wyss's tone was any indication, drew Ben's attentio n. He turned to watch his father and the Kel Dor.

Luke frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means that in death, you should be content with preserving the skills yo u had in life, but should not worry about acquiring new ones."

"That's the custom here?"

Wyss nodded again.

Luke turned away from the boy, obviously deliberating what he had just heard

. Ben returned his attention to the practice.

Ultimately, Chara won each of his three matches against Ithia. When they w ere done, Ithia laughed. "I am out of practice, Charsae— Chara."

Chara gave her what, among the Kel Dors, must have been consid-ered a symp athetic smile. "I think so. In the old days, you would have had at least t wo of those matches." He turned to Luke. "Will you be sparring?"

Luke shook his head. "Not today. Too sore from shoveling. To-morrow, per haps."

"I look forward to it." Moments later, Chara and Ithia departed, headed fo r the sanisteam, and Wyss followed them out, leaving Luke and Ben alone.

Ben gave his father a suspicious look. "Too sore from shoveling?"

"Perhaps too sick of shoveling would have been more correct. Ben, they jus t gave us the answers we needed here."

"Did they? The servant, Wyss?"

"He had one of them, and Ithia the other." Luke stood. "I need to get word t o the Hidden One. I'd like for all the Kel Dor in these cav-erns to be prese nt for our renaming ceremony."

Ben stood. "We're choosing new names?"

"No."

"Oh. That's sad. I was looking forward to being Sparky."

"Sounds like a name for a monkey-lizard."

"And you could be Grand Master Whango Mittphool."

"Not in this lifetime."

Chapter Twenty-seven

THEY GATHERED IN THE HIDDEN ONE'S THRONE CHAMBER, four dozen Kel Dor s and two humans. As the last of the Kel Dors, servants who operated the foundries, arrived, conversation dropped off and all Kel Dors t urned toward the Hidden One on his throne.

He gestured toward the Skywalkers, motioning them to approach. As they did

, he offered them a benevolent smile. "It is with whole heart that I greet you this day. I understand that you have determined to choose new names, the better to make your way among us, the bet-ter to accept your circumsta nces."

Luke looked surprised. "I'm sorry, great one. There has been some misunder standing. I did ask for a naming ceremony. I did refer to it as our naming ceremony, but I did not mean that Ben and I would be re-naming ourselves.

It is my hope that we will be renaming some—or all—of you."

Exclamations of surprise and disapproval filled the room then. Ben kept his face impassive, but inwardly he was smiling. Much as he liked causing troubl e from time to time, it was just as much fun watching his father do it.

The Hidden One's expression darkened. "You have wasted my time."

Luke shrugged. "What do the dead have except time? And admit it, as annoyin g as you find my words, this is the most interesting event you are going to experience all day."

The Hidden One sat back, clearly not amused. "And who were you going to rename first?"

"I thought, great one, that we would start with Chara. Restore his name of Charsae Saal. He was the one most recently named. We could go in reverse or der, from the newest one who joined the dead to the oldest."

The Hidden One sagged just a little as if dispirited. "Why are you doing this

?"

Luke abandoned all pretense at good cheer. He drew himself up straight and fixed the Hidden One with a forbidding stare. "Because you're wrong.

And if you were only wronging yourself, that would not be so bad. But you are wronging every one of them as well." His sweeping gesture took in all the assembled Kel Dors.

"I have accepted their sacrifice as a gift to future generations. They knew what they were doing as they offered their oaths and took their new names. T
here is no wrongdoing."

"Again, you're wrong." Luke sprang onto the Hidden One's throne platform, eliciting a gasp of outrage from some of the Baran Do. He began pacing as he talked, crossing back and forth in front of the Hidden One, addressing all the Kel Dors before the platform. "Let's answer some simple questions.

The Baran Do Sages are a group who study and utilize the Force. Correct?

"

The Kel Dors looked between Luke and the Hidden One. Ben saw the Hidden One pause and then nod. One of the Baran Do toward the front of the cr owd said, "Yes."

"And the Force is the energy of life."

Another Kel Dor said, "Yes."

Luke spared an admonishing look for the Hidden One as he passed. "Life is ri sk. Life is energy, vitality. Yet you have rejected these things. In rejecti ng them, you reject the Force. In rejecting the Force, you deprive yourself of the right to teach its ways to the living. You have brought nothing to th ese caverns but your own bodies, and even then, you don't have the decency t o start moldering like ordinary corpses."

Many of the Kel Dors looked offended, including Chara. He stepped toward t he platform, moving to the front of the audience. "Now you're just being i nsulting."

"Which angers you, because you're approximately still among the living." L
uke stared down at him. "The dead don't take offense, Charsae Saal."

"My name is Chara."

Luke hopped down and brushed past Chara. He walked to Ithia. "Here is a woman who used to beat you consistently in combat, Charsae Saal. Now she is no longer your match. What has happened? Has she grown feeble with a ge?"

Chara shrugged. "Of course not. She does not train as much down here."

"Why not?"

"There is less need."

"Of course there is no need." Luke walked through the crowd; the Kel Dors stood aside to let him pass. "Thinking you're dead, knowing that you have no future, leaches all energy and hope from you. Drains your very life awa y. Diminishes you in the Force. How can you even feel a need?"

Luke came to a stop in front of Wyss. "And here we have a boy who gave up hi s life on the surface to serve you in this place. And what do you give him b esides food, water, and the opportunity to serve? Not much. No chance to lea rn, to improve himself, to grow. Growth is for living things.

Here, it's 'As in life, so in death.' "

One of the Masters, a male Kel Dor even more wizened than the Hidden One

, his name Burra, spoke up. "We have debated the philos-ophy you mention

."

Luke turned a cheerful, if mocking, smile on Burra. "Good for you! Debate would seem to be a good thing for dead people to do. It would keep the cem eteries lively. And how did your vote turn out?"

Burra looked uncomfortable. "Here, we do not vote."

"Because your lord of the dead decides everything."

Burra hesitated, then nodded.

"Those of you who debated, did the majority support letting the dead learn new things?"

"Enough." The Hidden One rose to his feet. "This gathering is at an end.

Ever yone is to return to his duties."

"Your duty is to the living," Luke shot back, "and you've already abandoned that. Why not abandon it for five more minutes?" He ges-tured toward the e xit, and the blast door there slid closed. The Kel Dors already heading tow ard it hesitated, confused, and turned back toward the throne.

"You want to save the Baran Do teachings," Luke said. "A noble goal. You w ant to be prepared in case another purge comes. A good thing to do.

Koro Z
iil, do you know how the Jedi survived the last purge?"

"That is no longer my name."

"Do you know?"

"By luck, two Jedi survived. Your Masters, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda."

"No." Luke shook his head. "Of course, they did survive those events. But t here were other Jedi and former Jedi out in the galaxy. There were resource s like the Jedi Holocron. The Jedi survived because they were scattered, th eir knowledge disseminated throughout the galaxy. You Baran Do plan to surv ive by concentrating. Few of you ever leave Dorin in the first place, and y our backup plan, this series of caves, is just one toxic bomb or groundquak e away from extinction. I applaud your goal . . . but your execution is bou nd for inevitable failure."

There was muttering among the Kel Dors present. Ben had the sense that it w as not the conversation of people just waking up to a fact, but among peopl e who had voiced these objections many times before, quietly and futilely, in the face of a ruler who opposed their view.

"And those would be lucky ways for you to die," Luke continued. "Fast and de cisive. It's more likely that most of you will just wither away. Like Ithia there." Luke turned in a slow circle, making eye con-tact with as many of th e Kel Dors as he could. "Who is your best fighter?"

One said, "Ithia." Two or three, including Ithia, said "Chara."

Luke nodded. "Charsae Saal, because he has decades of experience. And becaus e, having only recently come here, he is not a listless, life-less reflectio n of his former self. But he has still been fading for years. He's been prep aring himself for death all that time. My bet is that he's a shadow of his f ormer self. And that my son, his junior in experience by many, many years, c an take him."

Ben froze, trying desperately not to look like a woodland creature caught in the spotlight beams of an oncoming speeder. Aware of nu-merous Kel Dors now looking at him, he offered them a scowl, a tough-guy posture.

"And what is it that you bet?" The Hidden One was seated on his throne agai n. His voice was cold.

"If Ben fails, I abandon the subject for as long as I live in these cav-erns."

"Very well." The Hidden One waved at Chara. "Do it."

Chara nodded, decisive. "Yes, Master."

The Kel Dors drew back from the center of the chamber, leaving the area r inged by columns empty but for Chara, Ben, and Luke.

Ben turned to his father. "You're doing it to me again," he whis-pered.

"I am, aren't I? I'm a terrible dad." Luke gave him a reassuring smile. "You'll do fine."

"What if I lose?"

"Two things. First, you'll still demonstrate to all these people just what it's like to be alive. Second, I promised that I'd abandon the sub-ject . . . not tha t you would."

"Hey, you are sneaky."

"Besides, you won't lose. Unlike them, you have something to fight for."

Ben handed Luke his lightsaber.

Luke looked at the weapon. "Are you sure?"

"I'm not going to convince anybody of the value of life by cutting him in hal f. Win or lose, I'm doing it without my lightsaber."

Luke nodded and withdrew to the circle of pillars.

Ithia presented Ben with a staff, a meter and a half of hardwood— gnarled, black, and polished. Then she withdrew as well.

Ben and Chara faced each other from opposite sides of the open space.

* * *

Luke leaned against the nearest pillar, trying to look relaxed but feel-ing n o more nonchalant this time than during the fight Ben had waged their first n ight on Dorin.

Ben faced his opponent, features set in the neutral expression he al-ways assumed when he didn't want anyone to know what he was thinking or feeling

. Chara's eyes were on the Hidden One.

The Hidden One looked at the two opponents, made a little ex-pression of di spleasure, and said, "Go."

Ben and Chara moved toward each other. When about a meter and a half sepa rated them, they began circling.

Chara lashed out, the lower end of his staff flashing up toward Ben's groin

. Ben reacted almost too late, parrying awkwardly. Chara responded with ref lexive speed, striking down at Ben's collarbone with the other end of his w eapon. Ben caught that blow, too, interposing his own staff mere centimeter s from his skin; the blow hammered Ben's weapon down into his flesh. It sta ggered him, and as he stum-bled backward, Chara swept with his staff, catch ing Ben's ankle and hurling him to the stone.

Ben continued the roll into a backward somersault and came up on his feet. H
e bounced up and down on the balls of his feet like a prize-fighter anxious for action. Luke could tell that he was testing his ankle, determining how f orcefully it had been struck.

There was more than just vigor to Ben's bounce, though. Luke could feel the boy getting mad—angry with himself for being the first to fall, angry with his father for putting him in this situation, angry at the Kel Dors for fo rcing Luke's hand. Luke restrained himself from sending calming thoughts th rough the Force. This was Ben's fight, and the many Baran Do Sages present would be able to detect any in-terference from Luke.

Ben and Chara came together for another exchange. This time Ben managed to get a grazing shot against Chara's bicep before the more experienced fighte r struck him. Chara's riposte connected with Ben's staff, raised in an acro ss-the-body block, and was still strong enough to take Ben off his feet.

Again Ben rolled backward to get up, but this time Chara gestured, an exert ion through the Force, and Ben's somersault continued out of control. Ben s macked up against one of the support pillars, his back and head hitting the stone hard enough to make Luke wince.

Groggy, Ben shook his head. As Chara advanced, staff up and back for a thru sting, spearlike blow, Ben's eyes cleared and snapped into focus.

He shoved off from the pillar, an exertion in the Force allowing him to slid e forward as though the surface under him were oil instead of rough stone.

C
hara's thrust cracked into the pillar where his head had been. Ben's kick un loaded into Chara's gut, taking the Kel Dor clean off his feet.

Ben bounced upright, seemingly unslowed, and Chara was up a fraction of a se cond later. Luke wanted to cheer. He could feel his son's emotions, feel tha t Ben was in control, intense but focused. Win or lose, he was fighting like a Jedi, not a furious teenager.

Now the fight was on in earnest. The two combatants moved their staves at such speed that onlookers unused to combat could not possi-bly follow thei r movements. Theirs was a dance-like rhythm, now one of them the aggressor and driving the other back, now the other. Chara hammered again at Ben's damaged ankle, hurting it further, and Ben now limped as he moved. The nex t time Chara tried target-ing the same injury, Ben leapt clear over the bl ow and swung his staff at extension, its end catching Chara full on the cr own of his head, knocking the Kel Dor down.

"Chara!" That was one of the Baran Do, a female, shouting encouragement

. Another yelled, "Chara, kayamash!"

Now Luke no longer bothered to conceal his smile. They were feel-ing it, th ese long-dead Kel Dors—feeling blood circulate through their veins, feeling adrenaline pump. Suddenly they were sports fans, rooting for a favorite so n.

Ben felt it, too. He looked around, clearly realizing that he was the outsid er competing with the beloved champion. It seemed to discour-age him not a b it; and Luke felt the moment that the meaning of it all clicked into place i n Ben's mind. Now the boy had everything: emo-tion, focus, and purpose.

Ben returned his attention to Chara.

Chara was up fast, but obviously woozy. Ben approached again, limping, an aggressor closing in for the decisive blow.

Luke's attention was drawn to the Hidden One. The Kel Dor ruler was leaning forward, whispering intently to a servant, a young woman. He nodded, encou raging her to act. She moved away around the pe-riphery of the crowd and he aded toward the main exit. The blast door opened for her.

Luke felt a trick le of danger, but he could not leave these events in order to follow the gi rl.

Ben and Chara exchanged blows and blocks, feints and ploys at lightning sp eed. They circled, struck, parried, dodged, all to the per-cussive accompa niment of staves hammering against each other.

Ben took a glancing blow to the side of his left knee. His riposte caught Ch ara in the ribs. Chara pinned him against a pillar. Ben shoved Chara clear, feinted with a staff blow, and spun into a side kick that caught Chara in th e center of the chest, making an audible crack. Chara slammed to the stone a gain and was slow to rise.

The chants of "Chara . . . Chara . . . Chara . . ." continued, but the chant ers sounded more uncertain, as if not sure they should encourage their champ ion to take more damage.

In the Force, Luke could feel the change. Ben, hurting from several blows, remained focused, razor-sharp. Chara was losing the will to win.

They came together again. Ben let Chara get inside his guard and lock up his staff. It was not, as it first looked, a mistake of inexperience. Chara yan ked, an attempt to disarm Ben, but Ben offered no resis-tance. Ben's staff w ent flying, but Chara stumbled backward, off bal-ance. Ben followed, hammeri ng Chara in the chest and stomach with a boxer's barrage of blows. As Chara tried to rally, bringing his staff up, Ben struck at the weapon itself, brea king it in two. The open-palm blow continued onward to crack against Chara's chin.

Chara went down. This time he did not immediately struggle to rise.

The crowd went mostly quiet. A few Kel Dors offered little groans of disap pointment.

Ben limped to where his weapon lay. He picked it up and, impas-sive, turned to face the Hidden One. Ithia moved up to kneel beside Chara, who was movi ng at last, attempting to rise; she helped him sit up but did not allow him to stand.

The Hidden One stared at Ben. His expression was unhappy, but Luke suspect ed he actually felt some measure of grim satisfaction. "You win."

The Hidd en One's tone was flat, almost emotionless. "Your father may continue his tedious complaints so long as he has breath within his body.

But he's stil l wrong about what we're doing here. About the life within us."

"No, Master." That was Chara, his voice pained. "He may be right."

The Hidden One turned to glare at him. "Not you, too."

Chara struggled to rise. Abandoning her futile attempt to keep him still, Ith ia helped him to his feet. "Master," he said, "I am this boy's superior in fi ghting skill. I am strong in the Force. But he won. He won through the will t o win. Through conviction, through strength of purpose. I lost because I lack these things."

"Perhaps you do." The Hidden One sounded scornful. "But it is because you have listened to him." He gestured at Luke. "He has con-fused you, diverte d you from your purpose. Once he is gone, you will return to the correct p ath."

Luke stepped forward to stand beside his son. "Gone? So we can leave?"

The Hidden One shook his head. "No one leaves. I have made that clear alrea dy. No, you are not going to leave. But very soon, things will return to no rmal." He took a deep breath, assuming a regretful ex-pression as he looked among his people. "I'm sorry. But the Skywalk-ers are clearly too dangerou s to live among us, and they know too much to be free."

Luke returned Ben's lightsaber to the boy. "So you're going to kill us."

Burra, the ancient Kel Dor, shook his head vehemently. "That is not our way

, Master."

"I will not do it," Ithia said. Others echoed her sentiment.

The Hidden One glared down at Luke. "Do you see what you've done?

Until your arrival, they were satisfied. Obedience to our goal, our destiny, w as our first concern. Now you've made them, made them—"

"Alive?" Luke kept his tone quizzical.

The Hidden One glared at him for a moment, then turned his at-tention to th e Kel Dors. "Of course we will not murder them. That is not our way." As a sigh of relief circulated among his followers, he added, "I have informed t hose above that the Skywalkers died in a col-lapse of the cave they were ex cavating. Above, they now know not to send down any more oxygen-nitrogen ca nisters. We will not kill the Skywalkers . . . but in the matter of a day o r two, once their remaining canisters have been depleted, the atmosphere of Dorin will."

Chapter Twenty-eight

ANOTHER MURMUR ROSE. BURRA CALLED OUT, "MASTER, NO."

But the Hidden One brushed his hands together as if ridding him-self of ima ginary dirt. "It is done. No rebellion on this matter will be tolerated. Or effective. I had the comm encryption codes advanced. Should one of you be foolish enough to try to send unauthorized mes-sages to those above, your w ords will not be understood." He looked at Luke and Ben. "Now, finally, lik e us, you must resign yourself to death."

Ithia stepped forward. Her voice was soft, a plea. "Master, please. Revers e your decision. And I wish you would consider something that has been tro ubling me for years now, something that I have tried to bring up with you many times, something you have never been willing to hear."

"Which is what?"

"Our purpose here." She paused for a moment as if trying to gather the righ t words. "Our lives here only have meaning if the worst occurs—if the Baran Do are wiped out above and must be restored. If that never happens, our li ves here are wasted."

"Which is why we choose to be dead before we descend to this place." The Hidden One sounded annoyed. There was no sign on his face that Ithia's wo rds had meant anything to him.

"Master ..." A look of great sadness crossed Ithia's face. "You're wrong. You

're wrong in what you're doing to the Skywalkers. And I think it's time for y ou to understand, and admit, that this experiment is a failure."

"This is no experiment." The Hidden One was suddenly on his feet, his voice r aised in a shrill shout, his anger so potent that all present ex-cept Luke an d Ben took a step backward. "It is our way, and it will continue to be our wa y, and it is time for you to be silent and obey."

"Like the dead." Sorrowfully, Ithia shook her head. "No, Master."

The Hidden One stood on his platform, breathing hard, and then stepped down to the stone floor. "I see. I cannot let these humans re-main among us even for the time it would take them to suffocate. Their influence is too strong.

" He raised his hands. Little crackles of electricity flickered between them

. "I will show you life. I will show you the Force."

"Ben," Luke whispered. "Stand back."

It happened all at once: the Hidden One gesturing toward Luke, Ben leaping a way, lightning flashing from the Hidden One's hands. It was not the purplish lightning of Emperor Palpatine, which had so nearly cost Luke his life near ly forty years before; it was all brilliant whiteness.

Luke had his lightsaber activated and up in time. The lightning crackled aga inst his glowing blade. The strength behind the attack, of the Hidden One's energy and anger, took Luke off his feet and threw him backward. He slammed into a pillar, feeling jolts of pain in his spine and the back of his head.

But the lightning did not reach him. His blade kept it at bay. And, bracing himself with the Force, Luke took a step forward.

The Hidden One tossed his head. It was not just a gesture of anger; Luke fel t the motion as a ripple in the Force. The air in the chamber responded, a w ind springing up and roaring around the walls of the chamber, gaining speed and strength. It tattered the robes of the Kel Dors near the walls as it wen t. It veered from the wall over the throne and howled down at Luke, engulfin g him, trying to drive him back-ward.

Luke gritted his teeth and rooted himself. Then, against the might of both w ind and lightning, he took another step forward.

The Hidden One's eyes widened. His head rolled around on his shoulders, and the roar of air across Luke intensified. It tore at his robes, causing them to stand out from his body, shudder, and snap in the wind.

Luke took another step forward. It was slow going, for the Hidden One's pow er was great, but Luke now felt sure in his footing and in his own strength

.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kel Dors retreating, some of them str eaming out through the blast door, Ben waving them onward.

The Hidden One's face, flushed fully red, was contorted in a mask of anger.

He flicked his fingers and the lightning ceased. He moved his now freed hand s in circular gestures. Luke felt the wind increase in fe-rocity. Most of it still whirled around the chamber before battering at him, but some, a diver ted flow, spun in a tight circle directly in front of the Hidden One. As Luk e watched, that errant stream of air swal-lowed up dust from the floor and w alls, defining its outlines as a minia-ture funnel cloud, a few centimeters wide at its base and broadening to two meters at the ceiling. It writhed lik e a mortally wounded serpent.

With a gesture, the Hidden One sent the whirlwind straight at Luke.

Luke lunged at it, visualizing it, wrenching at it with the Force. His exertio n was like a physical blow as he stepped into it. He felt the wind intensify f or a bare moment, and then his telekinetic attack flung the whirlwind free. It rocketed off to the side and hammered into a pillar to Luke's left.

Luke took another step forward. He was more than halfway to the Hidden One now. He deactivated his lightsaber. He could turn it on again swiftly eno ugh if the Hidden One brought forth his lightning a second time.

The whirlwind moved from pillar to pillar as if leaping. When it was directl y behind Luke, it lingered there. Luke kept his senses, both the physical on es and that of the Force, alert to its movements. It hammered at the pillar itself, and Luke could hear and feel the permacrete mounting at the itself, and Luke could hear and feel the permacrete mounting at the summit b egin to crack.

The mounting at the base broke, too, and the pillar toppled toward Luke.

He heard Ben's warning cry. He raised his left hand backward, using the same ex ertion he'd made a moment earlier against the whirl-wind itself, and the pil lar stopped, frozen in midfall. He gestured again and it reversed direction, toppling onto the empty floor.

And Luke took another step forward.

The Hidden One's howl of outrage was like that of his own wind. The stone throne behind him rocked and rattled on its platform.

Luke made a sweeping gesture, bringing his rear hand forward, and with it ca me the toppled pillar, flying forward like a spear. As the throne launched i tself toward him, the pillar met it in midair, shatter-ing the stone scat in to a dozen pieces, some smooth-cut and some broken.

Luke let the pillar fall to the floor. With a wave of his hand, he sent it rol ling toward the Hidden One, who leapt sideways over it as it neared him.

Luke was already in motion as the Hidden One jumped. The Kel Dor's concent ration was broken, his control over the wind dimin-ished, and Luke was abl e to race forward three steps in the time it took the Hidden One to clear the rolling pillar. As the Baran Do Master came down again, Luke kicked ou t, a spinning kick that caught the Kel Dor in the gut, throwing him backwa rd. The Hidden One smashed up against the platform's front, crushing in it s wooden front panel.

Remarkably, he stood up from the impact, raised his hands for an-other attack

. . . and collapsed, falling onto his face.

The wind died. The rolling pillar fetched up against one that was still uprig ht and stopped. All sounds died except that of the Hidden One's strained, fra ntic breathing.

There were still a few other Kel Dors in the chamber, mostly Mas-ters, and they began to move forward.

Ithia ran up to kneel beside the Hidden One. Chara, moving more slowly, joi ned her. After looking at the Hidden One for a few mo-ments, they cautiousl y rolled him over onto his back. Ithia sat beside the platform and pulled h im up so that he could be partially upright, propped against her.

She looked up at those in the chamber. "He is exhausted," she said. "He will recover."

The Hidden One said something, his voice so low as to constitute a whisper, and then exerted himself to be heard. "I will do as you say."

Ithia looked relieved. "You will free the Skywalkers?"

"I will allow the servants to learn. I will appoint a board of advisers to m ake recommendations about our purpose . . . and morale." The Hidden One gulp ed for air for a moment. "I will tell those above that the earlier message w as a mistake. They can resume sending air canis-ters for the humans. And in a year or two, we can review their situation with new eyes

..."

"A year or two?" That was Ben, his voice an expression of pure out-rage.

"D
on't you get that you lost? You're not going to be making any more decision s like that."

"He's right, Master." Ithia's voice was softer than Ben's, but just as unrelenti ng. "It's time for them to go."

The Hidden One shook his head, weary. "I still decide. And no one leaves."

"You're just too crazy to learn." Ben's hand shot up, pointing toward the cei ling above the platform.

Luke, breathing hard as he recovered from his exertions, distinctly heard a metallic clunk as something in the ceiling was driven home.

There was a distant boom and the tiniest shiver of chamber walls and pillars.

The Hidden One sat upright, away from Ithia. His eyes widened as he turn ed toward Ben. "What have you done?"

"The same thing you did to us." Ben's tone and expression held contempt.

H
e limped forward until he was only a couple of meters from the Hidden One.

"I've taken your choice away. I've activated your bombs and collapsed the entry tunnel. It's gone. You want it open again, prepare to spend a few h undred years with your pickaxes and shovels."

"You have only doomed yourself." The Hidden One looked more stricken th an angry. "Now your air cannot come, while we can survive."

"Stop lying. I'm sick of your lying. Your whole petty kingdom down here is ba sed on lies, and that's part of the wrong you're doing to all of the people w ho serve you. It's pathetic."

The Hidden One's jaw moved, but he said nothing.

"What lies?" That was Chara, seating himself on the edge of the platform, pr essing a palm against his ribs.

Ben sighed. "Well, let's start with your so-called self-sufficiency. Yes, y ou have hydroponics. Provides nice fresh vegetables. Good for you. But if t hey met all your food needs, you wouldn't have store-rooms full of food fro m above. King Paranoia there—"

"Show respect, Ben." Luke's voice was soft, but he let an edge of warning cre ep into it.

"Yes, sir." Ben took a couple of deep, calming breaths. "Koro Ziil there woul dn't tolerate the risk of those food shipments being de-tected or traced down here if the food wasn't absolutely necessary. Therefore it is.

Therefore, in blowing up the tunnel, I've doomed us all. We suffocate, you starve.

"Except for the other lies. Here's the next one. Look!" He ges-tured at the exit. Most of the Kel Dors followed his gaze, then looked back at him, confu sed.

"Blast doors," Ben said, as if explaining to a none-too-bright class-room of younglings. "The lie that these big doors were made here. Your foundries do fine for recycling metal containers and making metal parts. But they're not big enough to build blast doors. The big pieces had to come from an industr ial-sized metal plant. And they're too big to fit down your little tunnel. S
o where did they come from?

"There's lie number three, the really big one. That lie says the tun-nel you'

ve been using for shipments, two hundred kilometers of pure tedium, is in any way necessary. It's not.

"Here's why. Lie number four. The lie that if the bad thing happens and the Baran Do are wiped out up top, you'll wait for the dust to settle, then begi n teaching new sages by telepathy. No, you won't. The technique doesn't exis t. If it did, the Hidden One would have issued his orders to the surface by telepathy, not by comlink. Those blast doors came down by bigger tunnels, th e first tunnels dug down to this place, and if the bad thing happened, you w ere going to get back to the surface by those tunnels and spread out to begi n your teaching.

"Those are the lies most of you have lived with down here for I don't know how many years. Probably only the Hidden One and the first generation of Baran Do dead sages know where the big tunnel is. But it's here, and now y ou need it." Ben glared, defiant, at the Hidden One.

The Hidden One tried again to stand. Ithia attempted to hold him in place but then relented, and the aged Kel Dor got to his feet. He faced Ben, unbowed, unrelenting. "Then you have killed us all, not just yourself. I will not give up the secrets of this place. Nor will any-one else."

Undismayed, Ben stared at him. "So your pride is more important than your m ission. The fact that you rule here and would be just an-other retired Mast er up there means nearly fifty of your followers have to die."

The Hidden One glowered but did not answer.

Burra did. His expression sorrowful, he stepped forward. "The tun-nel out i s just above the garment storeroom."

The Hidden One turned on him, his eyes eloquent with the be-trayal he felt.

"Burra, not you.'"

"The ceiling there is synthstone, artfully detailed to match the nat-ural ston e around it. A few blows with chisels will reveal a sliding hatch. Above it is a turbolift chamber. Its generator will need mainte-nance before it can be ac tivated."

The Hidden One just stared at him. Then, with slow, halting steps, he turne d toward the exit from the chamber.

The boy, Wyss, came forward to tuck himself under the Hidden One's arm a nd support him on his walk.

* * *

It was as Burra said. A few minutes with mining tools broke away the veneer of synthstone, revealing a door mounted in the ceiling and a control panel b eside it. The control panel, a single mechanical switch, had no lights or re adouts to indicate whether it was functional, but Burra had no doubts. "It t riggers a capacitance charge, which opens the door."

And so it did. Once the switch was flipped, the doors slid open and air, ke pt contained and musty for some sixty years, flowed down into the caverns o f the seed of the Baran Do.

As they waited for Burra and others to get the generator in the chamber abov e operational, Luke took Ben aside. "You acted, well, unilaterally."

"He wasn't going to change, Dad. The only other thing we could have done would be to make the others turn on him and force the in-formation from h im. Would that have been better?"

"No. It would have been shattering for them. But the Hidden One, after a n ight's sleep, might have reconsidered. You took that choice away from him.

"

"Yes, I did. It solved the problem. It didn't kill anybody. It spilled out so me nasty truths that they all needed to hear. Dad, sometimes you shouldn't wa it that extra day. Sometimes you have to cut the other guy's arm off."

"Yes, if the Force guides you to do so. Did the Force guide you to do that?"

"I'm . . . not sure." Finally Ben did look a little contrite. "Was it the wrong t hing to do?"

"I'm not sure."

"Oh, good. A really useful answer for once."

Luke grinned.

"Dad, you had added it all up, too, hadn't you? The tunnel size, the blast door s, the telepathy ..."

"Yes."

"So what I did really didn't shock you. You knew I wasn't sealing us in forev er."

"Yes. And even if it was the wrong thing, it clearly wasn't very wrong. Add it to everything you did right while we were here, and you're still very m uch ahead of the game." Luke reached over and af-fectionately mussed Ben's hair.

"Dad, the hair."

Chapter Twenty-nine

THE TURBOUFT CARRIED THE SKYWALKERS AND THE FIRST FEW
exploratory Baran Do one kilometer straight up. It ended in a large chamber packed with cloth-shrouded speeders, most of them seven decades or more old, and a ramp to a surface-level door. The capacitance charge on that door worke d as well, and soon they were at the top of the ramp, staring up into t he starry sky of Dorin, the black eyes of the neighboring black holes o n either side.

Ben's planetary positioning system datapad put them at about thirty kilomet ers west of Dor'shan. With Ithia's blessing, they unshrouded a speeder, pok ed at the engine and connections to make sure they were in good working ord er, and started up the vehicle. Within minutes, they were nearing Dor'shan'

s outskirts.

"Are we going to stay and offer them any help?" Ben asked.

Luke shook his head. "We may stay for a day or two and actually relax, but they don't need help. Mistress Tila Mong is capable of han-dling things amo ng the living, and Charsae Saal and Ithia among the formerly dead. And real ly, I doubt they want our help right now. I sus-pect they would be happier not seeing us for a while."

"You're probably right. What's going to happen to the Hidden One?"

Luke thought about that for a few moments, searching among his feelings, his knowledge of the way such Force societies operated, his sense of the future.

"One of two things, probably. If he gets better, if he finds a new direction for his original goal, he may end up distribut-ing the archives of his Order, or maybe organizing groups of Baran Do to go out into the galaxy the way Mas ter Plo Koon did. If not, if he doesn't get better . . . well, he'll probably stay in those caverns, main-taining them as a hideaway for the Baran Do.

The place will just be a bit less secure than it used to be."

"I wish I could feel happy for him."

"Feel happy about the others."

"Hey, there's something I've been meaning to do for you. I've been practici ng while you weren't around."

Luke shot his son a suspicious look. "Go ahead."

Ben pulled his breath mask free and took a deep breath of the helium-rich Do rin atmosphere. " 'Where fields once grew, a road runs through, and building s hide the sun,' " he sang, his voice as high and ridiculous as that of an a nimated Ewok in a children's broad-cast.

"Ben, don't."

" 'Where grass of green could once be seen, are only gray and brown.' "

"I hate that song under normal circumstances."

" 'My childhood home, while I did roam, became a place of sad-ness.' "

"I'll just wait until you pass out."

" 'Now I return, my heart does yearn for times of light and glad-ness.' "

"You'll make your throat sore."

* * *

CALRISSIAN-NUNB MINES, KESSEL

It had been a couple of days since the pilots' expedition into Kessel's caver ns, and a day since the last of the caverns not prematurely deto-nated had se lf-destructed. Things were different now.

The groundquakes had ceased. Lando's seismologists had con-cluded that the surface effects of cavern collapse were over for the time being. Mine wor kers and other inhabitants of Kessel were being re-turned in stages from t he garrison moon.

There were no more bogeys to be seen. It seemed that their contin-ued exis tence had depended on the functioning of the mysterious ma-chinery that li ned those caverns.

Lando and Tendra had filed a report about the whole affair with the Galacti c Alliance government, and had been castigated for acting with-out consulti ng the authorities. Lando's company was now under strict orders not to blow up anything else on Kessel until government scien-tists had the opportunit y to make a thorough study of the planet's underworld—a task, Han knew, tha t would require lifetimes just to generate preliminary conclusions.

But at the moment, no one was worried about extinct bogeys, re-covering sub terranean ecosystems, or the dictates of the GA government. Today a celebra tion filled the cafeteria of the main building, a chamber that had been lit tle used in recent weeks.

Pilots of the three phases of the operation, seismologists, mechan-ics, retu rning miners, a recently arrived archaeological team, spouses, and children filled the room, crowding the tables. Animated, cheerful conversation, for s o many years and in recent weeks a rarity on Kessel, rose as a din.

At the first table sat the Calrissians, the Solos, Nien Nunb, and sev-eral of their friends. Tendra raised a glass. "Here's to no more groundquakes, ever."

The others raised glasses and drank. Leia, her cheeks flushed, set her tumbler down and turned to Lando. "Is that just a hope, or is that the way it is?"

"The way it is." Clearly deeper into his cups than Leia, he leaned toward he r and almost lost his balance; he braced himself against the table and sat u pright again. "More caverns that have been weakened by the explosives might collapse, but the likelihood of them interact-ing in any way is basically ni l. And the Great Kessel Fault remains sta-ble."

Han gave Lando a nonchalant shrug. "Stable or not, it's all your fault. Your s and Tendra's and Nien Nunb's."

"That's right, old buddy. All our fault. We'll be exploring it next, by the way.

You want to earn some easy money?"

"Noooo." Han put an arm around Leia. "It's back to Coruscant for us. We're t rying to settle down. Raise a kid." He didn't add, And we need to do it on a world where she isn't terrified of some specter from space coming after her

. Allana hadn't mentioned any further contact from the mysterious presence t hat had spoken to her, but just the pos-sibility was keeping the child jitte ry, costing her sleep.

Lando would not be deterred. "Who knows what you'll find down there?

Spiders the size of frigates. Gigantic glow rods that can light an entire solar sys tem. Ancient Sith preserved in blocks of crystal for thousands of years."

Han shook his head, not uneasy, just disinterested. "They're all yours."

"Oh, well." Lando raised his glass, gesturing to old friends and new. "My f inal drink of the evening, then, and my final toast for now." Suddenly he s ounded much more serious. "Kessel is a homely world without much to commend it. It's a demonstration of your generosity of spirit that you would all c ome here to save it. You have my respect, and my thanks."

"And your hospitality," Wedge said.

"And my hospitality. Here's to you." Lando drank and set down his emptied g lass. He rose and extended a hand to help Tendra up. "I'll see you off as y ou leave over the next few days. Those leaving tomor-row, we'll cry over ou r hangovers together." Smiling, the Calrissians departed.

Han drew in one deep, satisfied breath, let it out slowly, and turned to Leia

. "Home?"

"Home."

* * *

DOR'SHAN SPACEPORT, DORIN

Dressed in fresh clothes and breathing the Coruscant-like atmosphere provid ed by Jade Shadow's, life-support system, Ben and Luke sat in the yacht's s mall lounge area. Momentarily free of responsibility, they could relax for a bit. Ben sprawled in a reclining chair while Luke sped through several da ys' worth of holonews recordings and communica-tions.

"What's new in the galaxy, Dad?"

"I had about a dozen queries from Cilghal. The fact that I wasn't replying had her a bit concerned ... I just asked her to look into re-ports of Force nexuses Jacen might have heard of while he was here. Not the one on Dagoba h or the one walled in at the base of the Jedi Temple. He was already aware of those. Somewhere different."

"Nexuses. Thrilling."

"They caught Seff Hellin. Jaina and some allies did."

"The crazy Jedi that Aunt Leia mentioned?"

"That's the one."

"Good."

"Cilghal reports some abnormalities in his brain scan. A place to start her research. And—oh, excellent."

"What?"

Luke angled the monitor screen so his son could see more clearly. It showe d aged newsman Wolam Tser speaking in his usual grave man-ner; then the im age cut to Nawara Ven, well-dressed, standing on the steps before the Cour ts of Justice Building, surrounded by members of the press. Luke dialed up the volume and Tser's voice could be heard: "—action initiated by advocat e Nawara Ven. The High Court's ruling effectively strikes down the Chief o f State's executive order, lift-ing many of the restrictions imposed on th e Jedi Order in recent weeks." Nawara Ven raised a fist, triumphant, and s houted silently in answer to someone's question; then the image cut back t o Wolam Tser. "Chief of State Natasi Daala has not yet issued a statement about the ruling. Privately, many of the observers assigned to the Jedi, w hose mission came to an abrupt end this afternoon with the issuance of the ruling, have expressed dissatisfaction, claiming that the Jedi tendency t oward willfulness and disregard of the law make the observers' role a cruc ial one. Jedi Master Kenth Hamner, asked about—"

Luke dialed the volume down again.

Ben raised a fist, mimicking Nawara Ven's gesture. "That's one for us." He saw his father take a breath and hastily added, "Yes, I know. Dangerous for ces out there. The Hidden One may have been partly right. Mustn't get cocky

. Dad, just for tonight—"

Luke grinned. "Just for tonight, no admonitions. No advice."

"Thanks. Where do we go next?"

"We'll see what Cilghal tells us. Until then, we relax."

Ben put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. Relax—that he could do.

And though he was countless light-years from home, only a few weeks into his father's ten-year exile, sore from physical labor and being beaten by a com bat trainer, he decided that things could be a lot worse.

It was good to be alive.

[end]

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine