Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi II: Omen Page 6

  “Very well. There has been another incident with a Jedi Knight,” she said.

  “Oh, no,” Luke breathed. “Who?”

  “It was Jysella Horn.”

  The Skywalkers exchanged glances. Two thoughts slammed into Ben’s brain at once. One was Poor Jysella; the other, What’s this done to their parents?

  “I witnessed it, Master Skywalker. She had come to the Temple to assist me in researching a cure for her brother. She seemed agitated and did not appear to have slept well, but I assumed that was to be expected, considering. She was seated beside me in the research room, when suddenly she stiffened and began to make excuses for why she had to leave immediately. I realized something more than simple worry was affecting her and attempted to engage her in conversation.”

  Cilghal’s enormous eyes blinked rapidly, a sign of agitation. Luke listened, not interrupting, and Ben followed his father’s example although he was burning to ask questions.

  “She rose and activated her lightsaber, accusing me of absconding with the real Cilghal.”

  “Just like Valin,” Luke said.

  “Exactly. Then—she fled the Temple.”

  “She escaped from the Temple? How? There’s Jedi all over the place!” Ben had blurted the words before he could censor himself.

  Instead of reprimanding him, Cilghal sighed. “An excellent question, Jedi Skywalker. Jysella is a trained Jedi Knight, certainly, but nonetheless, in our own Temple, we ought to have been able to capture her. Master Skywalker … Jysella Horn … flow-walked.”

  Luke looked startled. “You’re certain?”

  “I am reasonably so, yes. She seemed able to know exactly where each of us would try to confront her and took routes to avoid us. I can’t think of any other explanation than her seeing into the future.”

  “That’s hardly incontrovertible evidence of flow-walking,” Luke said. “That could be tactics, smart use of the Force, and just plain luck. Part of being a Jedi is being able to anticipate what others will do.”

  “It could be those simple things,” Cilghal agreed mildly, “had she not known exactly where two security droids—the very droids about to be activated to attack her—were hidden and disabled them. Two of her dearest friends tried and failed to capture her when she fled the Temple. They were in a tapcaf right outside and came out when the fighting began. Both Bazel Warv and Yaqeel Saav’etu report that she knew where they were going to be, knew what tactics they were going to use, and was able to counter every single blow before it landed.”

  Luke looked skeptical. “Cilghal, that’s a very basic Jedi technique—anticipating your opponent. Knowing what they’re going to do.”

  “Not like this,” Cilghal said earnestly. “This was beyond the ordinary. It was almost—choreographed. Too precise. The only thing that saved Bazel’s life was the fact that Jysella seemed so distressed, she was not thinking clearly.

  “Also,” Cilghal added, “I felt something in the Force. Something involving time and space. I have not tried to sense when anyone is flow-walking before, but if I had to guess—that is what I would have assumed even without knowing what Jysella had done with the droids and in the fight.”

  Ben’s eyes were enormous. Even his father was hard-put to conceal his shock. “Go on” was all Luke said.

  “Unfortunately, as I said, Bazel and Yaqeel were unsuccessful in their attempt to capture her. The GA has her, and Chief of State Daala reports that she is going to be put in carbonite.”

  “Without even an exam or trial,” Luke said. It was a statement, not a question, and Cilghal nodded.

  “GA Security was on the scene immediately,” she continued, “and Daala wasn’t far behind them. And Master … there was at least one reporter who broadcast almost everything.”

  Ben felt a knot in his gut. This couldn’t possibly have gone worse. Unless—

  “Were there any casualties?” he asked.

  “Thankfully, no. Many civilians received injuries, most minor, and Bazel was wounded. He will make a full recovery.”

  Ben thought that the same could not necessarily be said for Valin or Jysella.

  “Well, that’s something to be grateful for, at least,” Luke said. He rubbed his eyes. “You said the attack was recorded?”

  “Yes. Transmitting the broadcast now.”

  Luke and Ben watched in increasingly sickened silence as one Javis Tyrr, “Reporting live from just outside the Jedi Temple in Galactic City, Corsucant,” proceeded to interview passersby while feeding them transparently leading questions like, “How long do you think the Jedi have been hiding this issue?”

  At one point, Ben actually snorted in disgust. His father might have been trying to smother a smile at the sound, but he quickly sobered as the footage continued.

  It was damning. There was Jysella, in full Jedi robes and brandishing a lit lightsaber, shrieking at pedestrians and Force-hurling them out of her way. And the commentary as the cam zoomed around, always seeking out the perfect angle: “Another Jedi has gone crazy! She’s attacking people right and left!”

  Jysella’s hair had come undone, and dark strands flew about her head. The cam zoomed in on her at one point and revealed brown eyes wide with terror.

  “She does look crazy, Dad,” Ben said softly, the admission paining him. Luke said nothing, his expression sad as he stared at Corran Horn’s little girl.

  “Even her fellow Jedi think she’s dangerous,” came Tyrr’s voice, still remarkably calm. “I can see one, no, no two Jedi heading to intercept the rampaging Jedi now. And it looks like several are emerging from the Temple as well.”

  Ben stared raptly, thinking that this was like watching a speeder crash. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, even though the sight made him sick.

  What he saw next he couldn’t believe. A Ramoan whom he recognized as a Jedi Knight charged forward. He was suddenly slammed into by a fleeing pedestrian and, apparently caught unawares by the impact, stumbled several steps to the side.

  And that was precisely where Jysella leapt even before he’d begun moving. Her lightsaber came down in a blur of motion, and Jysella shrieked, “It’s not you!”

  “Pause,” Luke said. The recording stopped obediently. “Replay.” Both Skywalkers watched the encounter again. Ben felt a shiver chase up and down his spine.

  Flow-walking. This was more than Force anticipation.

  The fight continued. Ben realized that Cilghal was right. At every turn, Jysella predicted exactly where Barv would be. Sometimes she seemed to be two steps ahead. Ben had never seen that kind of Force anticipation, not even from his father. His skin crawled. He paid no attention now to the reporter’s running commentary, only dimly aware of words like “so young and attractive” and “tragic family” and other bantha poodoo. He was much more interested in the fight. He heard a snarl. Jysella’s head whipped around.

  “There is another on the scene, a young Bothan Jedi, who seems to—”

  And suddenly the cam was flying at Jysella, who whirled. There was a perfect, beautiful shot of her insane face as she lifted the lightsaber, then the transmission ended.

  Luke heaved a heavy sigh and ran his hand through his hair. “While I confess I’m pleased that Yaqeel was able to take out the reporter’s holocam, a lot of damage has been done. I’m certain that last image of Jysella is going to be all over the newsvids.”

  “It was good thinking on Jedi Yaqeel’s part, but it did little in the end. It turns out the reporter had a backup cam,” Cilghal continued miserably. “Here’s what else he was able to record.”

  The quality of the holovid was greatly reduced in this version, but the words came through loud and clear. There was Chief of State Daala, as usual looking stunning for someone her age, telling everyone in a calm, reassuring voice that Jysella Horn, like her brother, would be “safely imprisoned in carbonite.” That there was “something going wrong with the Jedi,” and that her government would “investigate and explore all possible explanations.”

 
Tyrr piped up with another leading question similar to the ones he had posed to the civilians earlier. Ben uttered an oath that his mother would have winced to hear—even though she had probably taught it to him unwittingly—and Luke’s lips thinned as insinuations were made that it was the Horn blood that was responsible for the madness.

  “Oh, Master Horn’s going to love that,” muttered Ben. “I feel really bad for him, having to listen to garbage like that. It’s like rubbing salt in a wound.”

  “I feel bad for whoever he runs into,” Luke said.

  Daala responded with the finesse of a natural politician, managing to smear the Jedi and the Horns both without actually saying anything that could be pointed to as inflammatory, even going so far as to chide the reporter for “putting words into my mouth.”

  Luke sighed as Daala finished up and returned to her speeder. The reporter went on to try to get quotes from Bazel and Yaqeel, and finally Cilghal herself stepped into the frame.

  “The Jedi are obviously very concerned about the current state of events, and have been since the first incident. We are doing everything we can.”

  “I apologize, Master Skywalker,” the live Cilghal said, her gravelly voice deep with regret. “I would have preferred not to speak for the Jedi until after we had had the chance to discuss this and present a united front.”

  “You were on the spot, don’t worry about it,” Luke assured her. “When are the Masters gathering?”

  “Within the hour. The question is, how much of what the reporter said is correct?”

  Ben’s auburn brows drew together. “Dad,” he started to protest, but Luke held up a hand to forestall his comments.

  “These are two Jedi who are closely related,” Luke said. “That is something that’s going to come up—repeatedly—and we need to have an answer for that. Is it possible that it’s a genetic cause? The Horns won’t like it, but I bet they’ll know we need to check it out.”

  “What about Seff Hellin?” Ben pointed out. “He’s not a Horn, and he was the first one to have manifested any of these symptoms.”

  Luke smiled at his son. “Good point, and correct.” He turned again to the holographic image of the Mon Calamari. “And you were right, Cilghal. It certainly did look as though Jysella could have experienced flow-walking. She wasn’t concentrating enough to simply be landing good strategic blows.”

  Cilghal inclined her head. “I would rather it be the latter, frankly,” she admitted.

  “Me too.”

  “Three for three,” Ben said.

  “Three for three what?”

  “Three Jedi displaying the same kind of paranoid behavior and abilities they shouldn’t have.”

  “Abilities that Jacen learned, but that they couldn’t possibly have learned themselves,” Cilghal said, nodding.

  “Exactly.” Ben started counting them off on his fingers, rising, his agitated body, weary of being in the confined space, needing to move to assist his thinking. “One: Seff was able to freeze his adversaries and snatch their weapons from them in the middle of a fight. Two: Valin was able to fake a seizure—alter the impressions his brain waves emitted well enough to fool everyone. And three: Jysella flow-walked. It’s circumstantial evidence, but it’s the best we’ve got right now. It’s the only common thread I’m able to see.”

  Ben paused and turned around to see both the holographic Cilghal and his father staring at him. He flushed a little, wondering if he’d been babbling, but he saw approval in his father’s blue eyes.

  “Agreed,” Cilghal said. “Your decision to explore the connection with Jacen appears, tragically, to continue to be validated. We still have no indication that Jacen had any sort of contact with these three Jedi Knights.”

  “But there’s got to be a link,” Ben blurted, then amended, “Well … logic dictates that there should be anyway.”

  “The Baran Do Sages weren’t able to shed any light on this,” Luke said. “I wonder if we’re not herding the wrong nerf. Chasing the wrong lead.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed, thinking. “A link with Jacen—” Luke’s eyes widened. “No. Not Jacen … at least, not with the physical one.”

  “But … there’s been no trace of him in the Force,” Ben reminded his father. As always, the thought saddened him. For all the rage he had once borne toward his late cousin, Ben had learned to forgive him, although like Luke, he still needed to understand what had happened to him. For a few seconds at the end, Jaina had assured them all he’d been Jacen again, not Darth Caedus. And Ben had loved Jacen. Ben felt an uncomfortable, slightly awkward sorrow, as of something left forever unresolved, at the thought of never sensing his presence again.

  Luke shook his head. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, and his voice held a trace of the same sorrow that Ben was feeling. “I was wondering if Caedus somehow was able to see that his reign as a Sith would eventually come to an end. And if he saw that … maybe this entire situation is something he set up by flow-walking into the past.”

  Ben stared at his father, wide-eyed. “You can do that?”

  Luke’s face showed disapproval. “You can influence the future, to a certain degree, yes. Caedus didn’t have the chance to find and train an apprentice to carry on his work after he was killed. He couldn’t break you, and he wasn’t able to fully corrupt Tahiri. Maybe he took this route to leave a legacy of some sort.”

  Ben had followed Jacen more than a slight way down a very dark path, but he had not gone to the dark side. He knew that Caedus had thought him too weak. In the end, though, he’d learned to realize that what Caedus had dismissed as weakness was that which the Jedi realized was their greatest, truest strength.

  “I—I imagine it would be possible,” Cilghal was saying, distaste evident in her voice. “It certainly bears investigation, unsettling an idea as it is.”

  “He did study with the Aing-Tii,” Ben offered. At one point, he’d known just about every place Jacen had been during his five-year galaxy-hopping adventure. He’d desperately wanted to emulate it, and now it was beginning to look as though he was going to, under far different and much sadder circumstances. “Maybe we should go talk to them.”

  Cilghal gave a raspy, gurgling laugh. “That will be much easier said than done. The Aing-Tii are notoriously unwelcoming of strangers, and there’s very little information about them even in the Temple files.”

  “I think Ben is right,” Luke said. “It’s more than just investigating a Force trick that Jacen used. The flow-walking could be the key to understanding the entire situation. If Caedus flow-walked and laid this … this mental instability as some sort of bomb rigged to go off if he failed, then understanding how he did it may help us understand how to undo it. I know we don’t have a lot of information on the Aing-Tii, but please send me whatever you find.”

  “They live in the Kathol Rift, that much I know,” Cilghal offered. She sighed and closed her large eyes for a moment. “I’ll send you everything I learn, Grand Master.”

  Luke whistled softly. “The Kathol Rift? I’ll need everything you can learn, then. This just keeps getting better and better.”

  “What’s so bad about the Kathol Rift?” Ben asked.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Luke said. “Thank you, Cilghal. Now, didn’t you say there was some good news? I think I could use it along about now.”

  Cilghal smiled faintly. “Ben mentioned Seff Hellin earlier. I am pleased to report that he has been captured—by the Jedi. We are currently holding him deep within the Temple for analysis.”

  “Well, that is good news. Does the GA or Daala have any idea about this?”

  “None whatsoever. Jaina, Tahiri, Mirax, Winter, and Jag took him down.”

  “Tahiri?” Ben was pleased. He knew Tahiri Veila hadn’t been willing to fully rejoin the Jedi, but he was glad to know that she was cooperating with them.

  “Indeed. It would seem that she is not opposed to aiding us. Perhaps she will decide to rejoin at some point.”

&nbs
p; Ben hoped so. It had been his choice to spare Tahiri, believing she could come to her senses, be redeemed.

  Cilghal hesitated. “I said that the GA and Daala do not know about Seff’s capture. Nor do any of the Masters save myself. No one has any desire to place Master Hamner in a compromising position.”

  Luke frowned, then nodded. “If this comes out, he can in all honesty deny any knowledge of it, and the Order is not affected. I still don’t like it.” He sighed, and then shook his head, seeming to refocus on the matter at hand. “What have you learned about Seff so far?”

  “He does not demonstrate Valin’s ability to blank the encephalo-scan, and thus we were able to successfully take brain scan readings. The parts of his brain that are active while dreaming also appear to be active while he is awake, to a certain extent. In other words, there is a definite dream state occurring, although he is wide awake and cognizant of what is going on. Our investigation continues.”

  Investigation. Even Cilghal was starting to use Ben’s terms. Ben suddenly was hurled back in time in his mind to when Master Cilghal had been conducting the investigation into the murder of Mara Jade Skywalker. The detachment had helped. Ben had burned with the desire to do everything exactly right, so that the investigation into his mother’s death wouldn’t be compromised. He’d been the one to prove what had happened to her, even when things seemed to point in another direction entirely. And now here was another investigation, not into a murder but into something that was most assuredly a mystery.

  “What is his behavior like?” Luke asked.

  “Exactly as you’d expect. He thinks everyone’s been taken and replaced by doubles. He is scared and angry and determined to kill us all. Captain Solo and Jedi Organa Solo will be arriving within a few hours to offer what insight they can, as they were the ones who encountered Seff Hellin first.”

  “I remember,” Luke said. “I’m not sure they will be able to give us any additional insight, but who knows? Anything else?”

  “I would have thought that this would be quite sufficient for one conversation, but if you insist, I’m sure I can come up with something else.”