Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi II: Omen Read online

  Ben paused in midchew for a second before resuming eating. His reddish brows drew together for a moment, and a shadow passed over his face. Luke knew without even having to sense his sudden disquiet in the Force what his son was thinking. Ben was recalling a moment three years ago when Jacen had inadvertently killed a prisoner while mentally torturing her for information. Ben hadn’t been present, hadn’t seen it happen with his own eyes—but he had been just outside the room, had heard and felt things through the Force that had forever and irrevocably altered his opinion of Jacen Solo.

  “Well, sounds like you’re off to a good start,” Luke said lightly, reaching out to squeeze Ben’s shoulder. “Time for my report.”

  He filled Ben in on the basics of the challenges addressing them. “I think that we may have an extra card to play, though. I’m wondering if the hassat-durr technique I learned could be useful here.”

  Ben had the proper teenager’s dubious expression, but he also looked as if he wanted to be impressed. “Really?”

  “Really. Think about it. Hassat-durr means ‘lightning rod’ in their language, right?”

  “Right, you told me,” Ben said. “Because if you’re not perfect in your mastery of it and perform it during a storm, you’ll be repeatedly struck by lightning and killed.”

  “It stands to reason therefore that if you are a master of it, you could use it to be a sort of anti-lightning rod. To deflect energies, at least to a small degree.”

  “I guess,” Ben said. It sounded like the dubious part was winning.

  Luke grinned. “Well, it’s worth a try anyway. I’m pretty sure I know enough to not be a lightning rod.”

  “That’s good. I’d die horribly embarrassed.”

  “Where’d you get that sarcastic sense of humor?”

  “From Mom.”

  “Ah, right. How do you like spiders?”

  The change of topic caught Ben off-guard. “What do you mean?”

  “Spiders. Giant glowing ones, or hundreds of small ones crawling on every centimeter of the ship.” Luke was enjoying this.

  Ben shrugged. “Not pleasant, of course, but I don’t have any particular fear of them. Are you telling me that giant glowing spiders lurk in the Rift, too?”

  “In your mind,” Luke said. “Apparently this part of space is known for causing hallucinations. Force-sensitives in particular are affected. Spiders—from the large and glowing to the small and plentiful—are one of the recurring hallucinations reported. So, too, are sightings of little hairless beings with large eyes, slit noses, and tiny mouths. Other side effects are nausea and severe headaches.”

  “ … I don’t think I like the field trips the Mobile Chapter of the Jedi academy provides,” Ben said.

  Luke grinned. He pointed at the last sweetcake. “You going to eat that?”

  “I’ll split it with you.”

  “Deal.”

  JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

  MASTER KENTH HAMNER, ACTING GRAND MASTER OF THE JEDI ORDER, made sure he was the first to arrive in the High Council Chamber.

  He needed the time to think.

  Hamner went to one of the windows and looked through it. When the Temple had been rebuilt, so had this tower. Except now the tower was enclosed within a so-very-modern transparisteel pyramid. Therefore one was not able to look out directly into the skies of Coruscant as one used to. Instead, one was treated to the far less scenic sights of painted duracrete or transparisteel walls, with the occasional tiny figures of Jedi moving about their business. Doubtless the architect had been proud of the “stylish” design. Hamner sighed and wished they’d simply stuck to what had worked so well for so long.

  He had done his best to navigate the Jedi through one of their most trying times. He was good at the game of politics; he had a flair for it, a deftness when it came to dealing with people. Luke Skywalker had known that about him, and had also known that Hamner was respected in many quarters. He himself knew he was a good choice for interim Master.

  And yet everything he did, every order he gave, every stance he took, seemed to drive the Jedi he was trying to protect—both as individual beings and the Order as a whole—even deeper into a very ugly pile of bantha poodoo.

  Daala in particular seemed to confound him. She had initially struck Hamner as a good choice for Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance. The Imperial connections didn’t seem to matter so much after the war, not when Jagged Fel was the Imperial Head of State and was clearly involved with Jedi Knight Jaina Solo, daughter of two famous erstwhile Rebels. It was—calming, actually. Natasi Daala herself seemed rational and composed. Things had been going well.

  Until Luke Skywalker had been arrested, and Valin Horn had gone—and Hamner himself realized he agreed with the choice of words—criminally insane.

  He’d done his best to cooperate, thinking to hunker down and ride out the storm. He’d let the GA assign their “observers,” at least until Nawara Ven had been able to overturn that order. He’d let GA Security into the Temple itself to physically remove the raving Valin, in full view of the observers. He’d opened up areas of the Temple to the public, even the press, for scrutiny. And yet Daala was still riding the Order, pressing down on them like an assassin pressing a thumb on the carotid artery until blackness descended.

  He shook his head. That was an unkind image. And yet—he had requested a meeting with her immediately, and she had put him off for three days.

  Three days.

  He ran a hand through his fair hair and sighed, turning away from the window and crossing the marble floor, which had been almost perfectly reproduced. He eased into the carved stone chair, relaxing slightly. The view might be different, but this room still bore its link to the past. Although this was not the exact same room that had served the Jedi Masters well through centuries, the restoration had been painstaking, and the spirit was still here.

  Kenth Hamner gave a ghost of a smile and wondered how Grand Masters past would have dealt with the predicament in which he now found himself.

  Over the next several minutes, the Jedi Masters currently at the Temple came trickling in, sometimes one at a time, sometimes in pairs or small groups. He nodded to them quietly as they entered: Kyle Katarn, Octa Ramis, Saba Sebatyne, Cilghal, Kyp Durron. Leia Organa Solo and her daughter, Jaina, entered, their heads together, quietly talking. They were not officially Masters—not yet, though Hamner suspected that one or both might be elevated sooner than either woman expected—but this was not the first time their insight and positions made them welcome guests at a Masters meeting.

  But there was one Master present whom Hamner did not see, one who most assuredly ought to have been. And he had had no word from this particular Master about appearing via hologram in lieu of in person. Hamner waited a moment, letting the Masters settle in and murmur among themselves, then discreetly clicked his comlink.

  “Master Horn,” he said. “We are all assembled and awaiting your arrival. May I ask when we might expect to—”

  “I’m on my way.” The voice was strained and sharp. Such was to be expected, Hamner thought to himself. The Horn family did seem singled out for misfortune during this trying time.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Shall we wait or—”

  “Wait or go ahead, I don’t care.” There was the distinct sound of Corran’s comlink being deactivated.

  Hamner blinked, feeling the eyes upon him, and exuded calm in the Force. “Master Horn will be joining us shortly,” he said. “As the main topic of conversation concerns him quite intimately, I suggest that if anyone else has other business to bring before the meeting, we address that first.”

  He spread his arms, indicating that they should take seats. Those who could not be physically present were here in holographic form. An uncomfortable silence stretched out.

  Finally Kyp Durron spoke. “Well, I’ll mention the bantha in the room if no one else will. Master Hamner, with all due respect, there is no business to be put before this assembly other than that of the H
orns. Specifically Jysella, what happened to her, and how long it’s going to be before Daala and the GA do something else to us.”

  Out of the corner of his eye Hamner saw Jaina relax. Clearly if Durron hadn’t spoken up, she would have.

  “I do not think it appropriate or considerate to begin discussions on that subject until Master Corran Horn—”

  “I’m here.”

  Corran Horn stepped inside. He looked terrible. His vivid green eyes were bloodshot, and the creases around them, not unexpected in a man of middle age, seemed to have been carved by an unkind hand. He looked scruffy, as if he had not shaved in days, and there was a simmering feeling of suppressed, righteous anger hovering about him in the Force.

  “Master Horn. It’s good to see you. Please, come join us.”

  Corran strode toward an empty seat and dropped heavily into it, rubbing his eyes. Jaina and Leia—as they were not yet Masters, they had opted to stand rather than take one of the stone chairs—moved to stand behind Corran. Leia dropped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it in a silent gesture of reassurance.

  Hamner turned to Cilghal. “Master Cilghal, since you were present when the … incident occurred, and have debriefed the two Jedi Knights who fought Jysella”—Hamner saw Corran flinch, ever so slightly, at the words—“I would appreciate it if you told us what you know thus far.”

  Cilghal glanced compassionately at Corran Horn, then twisted her body in the Mon Calamari equivalent of a human nod. Hamner, of course, had heard her report earlier. Most of the other Masters had heard about the incident, but not the details. He wondered how much Corran Horn himself had heard, and kept his eyes on the man as Cilghal spoke.

  In her gravelly voice that nonetheless held a world of kindness, Cilghal recounted the painful events: Jysella’s irrational fear and firm belief that everyone was an imposter; her pausing outside the locked door and subsequently escaping using knowledge that she could not possibly have had; her fight with her friends outside the Temple; the fact that this was on all the newsvids on what was apparently a brutal, endless loop.

  “The inescapable conclusion, given the evidence,” Cilghal finished up, “is that Jedi Jysella Horn was afflicted by the same mental disorder that affected her brother. Her reaction is virtually identical. I am convinced that if I had been given the opportunity to study her, the diagnoses would have been the same.”

  “Except you weren’t,” Horn said, his voice low and calm—deceptively so, Hamner suspected. “She was hunted down and dragged off, a holocam catching every minute of it. Her guilt and sentence were determined before anyone had even examined her.”

  “Yet there is a difference between Valin and Jysella, one that fortunately I was able to witness—to sense in the Force,” Cilghal continued. “And it could be an important clue. As I said, I dearly wish I could verify whether or not Jysella’s brain wave pattern is similar to her brother’s.”

  “By that you mean if she was able to project artificial readings?” asked Kyle Katarn.

  “Exactly,” Cilghal said. “Because if my theory is correct, she would not be using that Force ability. It is my belief, from everything I experienced, that she is using another Force ability entirely.” She turned to Leia and Jaina, her large eyes expressive. “I believe that Jysella Horn flow-walked.”

  Leia and Jaina exchanged glances. Hamner waited. Jaina frowned and looked down, and Leia sighed.

  “That’s … another ability that Jacen had that most Jedi don’t,” Leia said. “You’re certain she flow-walked?”

  “I am,” Cilghal said gently. “Both the evidence and what I felt in the Force confirm it.”

  Hamner turned to Corran. “Master Horn, I’ve no wish to cast aspersions, but in light of the evidence—”

  Corran, who had been listening with increasing emotion, now spoke. “You don’t even have to say it. Of course Mirax and I will come in for a thorough medical examination. Don’t you think that was the first thing that popped into our minds when we were told about Jysella? Whether this sickness was something she or I had passed along to them?”

  “Thank you, Master Horn,” Cilghal said gratefully. “The more information we have, the better. Currently, I confess, no one has any idea what might be causing this tragedy. I must eliminate what possibilities I can.” She turned to Hamner. “Master Hamner, I and a team must be permitted to examine Jysella. It is vital to our investigation into what is causing this.”

  Corran laughed, a short, harsh bark. “Good luck with that, Cilghal,” he said. “Mirax and I aren’t even being permitted to see her.”

  “What?” The single word erupted from several throats. Some of the Masters literally rose from their seats. Saba Sebatyne hissed.

  Hamner held up a calming hand. “That’s utterly inexcusable, Corran, and I’ll make a formal request that you and your wife be allowed to see your daughter before she is put in carbonite. I’ll be seeing Chief of State Daala in three days and—”

  “Three days?”

  “I am endeavoring to persuade her that this is a matter that requires her immediate attention.”

  “She shouldn’t keep you waiting for three hours, let alone—” Kyp burst out.

  “Master Hamner.” The voice was feminine, cool, reasonable, and it cut through the raised voices and tension in the room like a vibroblade through cheese. After all these years, Leia Organa Solo still had what it took to draw the attention of a room full of people.

  “If I may—my husband and I have been allowed to act as go-betweens before. With your permission, I would like to contact Chief of State Daala and speak with her on this subject. She is a grandmother herself. I’m convinced that she’s not as callous as this action would indicate.”

  It wouldn’t do to have Leia undermining his efforts. Hamner thought for a moment before responding. “While I am grateful for your offer, I think that the Order needs to speak with a united voice.”

  “You misunderstand,” Leia corrected him gently. “I do not intend to speak with the authorization of the Order, merely as myself. This would not be in the place of your meeting with her, but in addition to it.”

  Hamner pressed his lips together. He liked and respected Leia, and she had certainly been able to help out the Order on more than one occasion. It would be foolish and, worse, arrogant to refuse her help now.

  “Then of course. Thank you. So,” he resumed, mentally ticking things off, “I will endeavor to speed up my meeting with Chief of State Daala. At that meeting, I will request that Cilghal and any team she chooses to accompany her be permitted access to Jysella Horn before she is encased in carbonite, and also that her parents be allowed to visit her. Any information that the GA has obtained on her during their initial examination is to be shared with the Order, and we will, of course, do likewise in the spirit of cooperation. Master Horn and his wife, Mirax, will report immediately following this meeting to the medcenter for whatever tests Cilghal deems necessary. The Horn children’s maternal grandfather, Booster Terrik, will also need to—”

  “No.”

  The single word, blunt and stubborn, caused Master Hamner to blink.

  “I beg your pardon, Master Horn?”

  “No. Mirax and I are not going to report immediately after this meeting to the medcenter. And I think it highly unlikely that any order you issue to Booster Terrik will be obeyed like he’s a loyal pet, either. What I will be doing after this meeting is finding my wife, kissing her, and trying yet again to find a way to see my own child before she’s frozen in carbonite like a common criminal.”

  Corran Horn had always been forthright. His was not a delicate or diplomatic tongue. But always before, he had come down firmly on the side of focusing on what was important. This sudden divergence on his part to putting his offspring first—an understandable desire, and one that everyone here felt sympathy for, but one that could not be accommodated—was unsettling and perhaps dangerous.

  Before he could speak, Cilghal said quickly, “We have much data that
needs to be processed before we are ready for you and Mirax. Perhaps in a few hours? And if you could speak with your father-in-law, I am certain he would wish to do everything he can to help his grandchildren.”

  Corran’s posture did not relax, but his anger dissipated somewhat. He nodded curtly. “A few hours then. And Mirax is already talking to Booster.”

  The tension had been defused, but Hamner sighed inwardly. He suspected it was only a momentary reprieve.

  JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

  IT WAS, LEIA MUSED AS SHE STOOD BATHED IN FLATTERING BLUE LIGHT, not all that unpleasant a place as far as prisons went. She herself had been in worse. More than once.

  She was currently in an isolated corner of the detention center located deep within the Jedi Temple, along with her husband Han, their daughter Jaina, and the person they had come to see. This particular Asylum Block, a two-story cellhouse with a barrier field erected around it, could almost be taken for a comfortable apartment at first glance. The interior had flowform couches, tables and chairs, and a state-of-the-art holographic center that her gadget-loving nephew Ben would likely envy. Two doors opened from the main living area to a bedroom and a refresher.

  Just a pleasant apartment—if one’s apartment had transparisteel walls in the living area, had all its furniture bolted to the floor, and was surrounded by Force-suppressing ysalamari housed in olbio trees, expensively and swiftly brought from their native Myrkr. Leia and her family were standing on an observation balcony with a barrier field safely between them and the inmate.

  “Where can I sign up to be a Jedi prisoner?” Han said. “This place is nicer than my first living quarters.”

  Standing within a centimeter of the transparisteel wall, Seff Hellin, square-jawed, curly-haired, stared stiffly up at the Solo family. He gave no sign of recognition. His arms were folded across his chest, and his eyes were like chips of ice.

  Jaina, Jag, Tahiri Veila, Winter Celchu, and Mirax Horn had taken him down a few days earlier. He had been spotted disguised as a worker outside of the Armand Isard Correctional Facility where Valin Horn was contained. It was one of the rare strokes of luck they seemed to be having that they were able to capture him both alive and without the Galactic Alliance knowing a thing about it, although a great deal of damage had been done to the prison during the incident. It had been all over the newsvids, but thus far no member of “Darkmeld,” as Jaina had dubbed the team, had been identified.