Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi: Ascension Page 9

  “So we’re right back where we started,” Ben said glumly. Vestara had just lost her Kintan strider, one of the most powerful pieces in the game. He moved quickly to take advantage of an opening only to have Vestara, the novice, find an opening herself to take Ben’s own Kintan strider and two other pieces.

  “Ship.” It was the hologram of Jaina that had spoken the single, galvanizing word. All eyes turned toward her.

  “What about Ship?” Luke asked.

  The small figure shrugged. “Ship is the one thing both Abeloth and the Sith truly have in common. Although she’s commanding him, we know that Ship doesn’t seem overly fond of her. I picked up on that when I dealt with him, and Vestara’s confirmed it. He exists to serve Sith and train their younglings. Abeloth doesn’t fit into that programming, and yet he still serves her.”

  “He has to,” Vestara chimed in. “He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t like her at all.”

  “In the end, Ship is still a vessel,” Luke said. “He will always obey his programming, whatever his personal preferences. We know that about him, and that gives us an advantage.” He had never liked the tendency some had of referring to Ship as a male. Ship was a construct, not a living being.

  “Well … that depends on how you define his programming,” Vestara said. “Ship wants to help the Sith, and he is programmed to do so. But he must also obey one with will enough to command him. Abeloth is simply too strong for him to disobey right now.”

  Luke eyed her for a moment. “He would come to you if he could, wouldn’t he?”

  She nodded.

  “Even if you were helping us?”

  She hesitated, then said, “Yes. I think so. He wouldn’t like it. He would come, even if just to try to get me back onto what he sees as the right path. But I’m a Sith youngling, and well—not to brag, but he sought me out. I do think I have a bond with him.”

  Luke glanced over at his son, who had been quiet through this part of the conversation. Ben, too, had once had such a bond with the ancient vessel. During the time when Ben had been his uncle Jacen’s apprentice, and therefore had been walking the line between the dark and the light side, he had encountered Ship on Ziost. The Sith had once been powerful on that world, and the miasma of dark-side energy had lingered among the ruins that marked their former presence and lain heavily in the shadows of the woods.

  Ship, hidden deep in the bowels of Ziost and forgotten for millennia, had called to Ben, sensing in the then-fourteen-year-old youth the brush of the dark side.

  Sensing a Sith apprentice.

  Ben had responded, utilizing Ship as a way to get off the forsaken world. He had not fully understood at the time that Ship was using him in the same way. He had managed to exert the force of his will over the vessel sufficiently to pilot it, and retained enough of that will not to succumb to its mentally whispered urgings. Far from achieving the unity that Ship and a dark-side apprentice could have had, Ben had essentially ditched the training vessel as soon as he could—giving it to Jacen as a gift once the younger Skywalker had safely returned.

  Ship had not seemed to like Jacen, and had allied itself with a different dark-Force user shortly afterward. Luke found himself wondering what Ship’s dislike of Jacen meant, then shook it off. It was not relevant, not anymore.

  “If we can find Ship, then we’ll find Abeloth,” Jaina was saying. “And if he’s managed to escape her somehow, then he’ll have sought out the Lost Tribe. We could find one or both of our targets by shifting the direction of our search to finding him instead chasing them.”

  “That’s a great idea, Jaina,” Luke said. He was a little embarrassed he hadn’t thought of it himself. “Ben, Vestara—you’ve both been inside Ship. Jaina, you’ve encountered him twice, and the second time you gave a good account of yourself. The three of you put your heads together and see what you can come up with.”

  “I’d also like to utilize what resources we have back at the Temple,” Jaina said. “Have someone start pulling whatever research we’ve got on Ship.”

  Luke nodded. “Get right on that. Anyone in particular you’d like to work with?”

  Jaina cocked her dark head, considering. “I think if Natua Wan’s available, I could work with her. I know that most of the Jedi Knights affected by Abeloth are still having a close eye kept on them, and since I’m the one who brought her in when she snapped … I’d like to let her do something to feel useful.”

  Luke nodded, pleased but not surprised that this had occurred to Jaina. He would have felt the same way. Even though it was certainly not the fault of the “Jedi crazies,” he knew that there was still a pall cast over Jedi Knights who had been, in the end, victims. Letting Natua Wan help with research would give her something positive to do while keeping her in the Temple.

  “Let’s get right on it, then,” he said.

  “But first,” Ben said firmly, deactivating the holographic game in which he had been soundly trounced, “lunch.”

  JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

  Natua Wan understood, completely, the reticence with which she had been allowed back into Jedi society. She had harmed innocents—coming perilously close to killing more than one—destroyed property and livestock, and threatened the entire Solo clan.

  Everyone knew that she had believed, truly believed, that they were all imposters. That she had been unwittingly and utterly under the control of Abeloth, a being so powerful and dangerous that Grand Master Luke Skywalker had joined into an alliance with Sith to fight her. And they all knew that Natua Wan was cured.

  But they still worried, and Natua couldn’t blame them. Even if it meant that, unofficially, she was still under observation.

  She’d bridled at it at first, but the very practical Markre Medjev, the current chief librarian of the Temple, had pointed out that Jedi needed patience and compassion. After a time, they would all come to believe in their hearts, not just their minds, that the “crazies” were truly cured, and she and the others would again be sent out on assignments that required absolute faith in their abilities. She’d sighed, nodded, and resigned herself to the situation.

  Natua had always been quick-tempered and, while intelligent, could hardly be called “studious” by even the most charitable of her teachers. Embracing where she was as Medjev had suggested, she had actually volunteered to stay at the Temple and assist Master Cilghal with some of her research. Cilghal had been surprised, but pleased, and had taken great pains to acquaint the Falleen with most of the librarians, who were delighted to have someone to take into their care.

  It was … odd, but rewarding. So when Markre Medjev himself took her aside and said, “I have had a specific request for your services,” she was quite pleased.

  “Who needs what?” Natua asked.

  Medjev smiled. There was a twinkle in his dark eyes as he replied, “Jaina Solo needs help researching the Sith. It seems that they want more information on Sith history in general and Ship in particular. You’ll be doing a great deal to help Master Skywalker and the fleet locate both the Sith and possibly Abeloth, too. Jedi Solo asked for you by name.” It was clear that while Medjev was trying to appear nonchalant, the chief librarian was bursting with pride.

  Natua’s eyes widened. She had not been surprised when she, along with most of the others who had suffered under Abeloth’s control, had not been permitted to depart with the Jedi fleet. But now it didn’t matter. Jaina Solo, who had fought her at the Coruscant Livestock Exchange and Exhibition, had asked for her help. Natua still remembered, with deep shame and regret, how Jaina had said, “I don’t want to hurt you.” Natua’s response had been, “But I want to hurt you.”

  Even though her natural inclination was to fight rather than research, Natua Wan would never, in a thousand years, do anything but gratefully accept Jaina’s overture.

  Besides … she knew Jedi weren’t supposed to focus on revenge, but she felt a deep sense of satisfaction in knowing that she could take part in tracking down the being who had so violated he
r mind.

  Natua grinned at Medjev. “Tell Jedi Solo that it would be my honor to assist.”

  ABOARD THE JADE SHADOW

  THE LIST OF PLACES THAT JAINA, NATUA, BEN, LUKE, AND VESTARA had come up with read like a Top Ten Worst Places to Vacation, Ben thought as he looked at the names.

  Dromand Kaas. Ziost. Krayiss II. Khar Delba. Korriban. And it went on and on. Ben didn’t know a lot about the specific history of each planet, but he was more than familiar with some. Like Ziost.

  He watched with not a little unease as Vestara read almost hungrily about the history of her—hopefully—former people. She methodically crunched a muja fruit, studying silently while they ate lunch in the galley.

  Finally, uncomfortable with the silence, Ben said, “Your soup’s getting cold.”

  “Hmm? Oh, right. Thanks.” She took a single spoonful and resumed reading.

  Ben fidgeted, then said, “So I thought you’d already be familiar with a lot of these places. Maybe even tell us about some new ones.”

  That got her attention. She looked up from the datapad. “A lot of them are familiar. But the Omen’s data bank did suffer some damage, and a great deal of information was lost. Remember, we didn’t really have the technology until recently to recover lost data. And Ship was much more interested in bringing us up to speed on the current state of the galaxy than on its history. So yes, a lot of this is new to me.”

  “Interesting?”

  She gave him a level gaze. “Of course it is. Knowledge is power, Ben, and I know you know that. I was born a Sith, even if I’ve changed my mind about a lot of what they stand for and who I want to be. I bet even you think this is interesting.”

  He couldn’t deny it. “Well, yeah, it is. But it’s kind of like watching a ship crash. You can’t take your eyes off it, but you don’t really like what you’re seeing.”

  She shrugged. “Perhaps. The nature of this is nothing new to me, only the details. And don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of information on ancient Sith planets to share with you.” She waggled the ’pad. “This is definitely incomplete.”

  “Ancient Sith planets, but not Kesh,” Ben said.

  Vestara sighed and put down the ’pad. “I’ve been thinking about this,” she said. “I know that there’s a very good possibility that Abeloth and—and my father’s team have retreated to Kesh. But what I told Master Luke still stands. I’m afraid if I tell you where it is, every Jedi in the galaxy is going to converge on it and blast it back to the date that the Omen crashed. I can’t do that, Ben. I just can’t—and neither could you if you were in my situation.”

  He stared into his soup. It was good soup, as such things went, with generous chunks of nerf meat and vegetables, but it was not holding his attention. Which was highly unusual, and a sign of how troubled he was by the direction the search was taking.

  “I guess you’re right.”

  She reached over and squeezed his arm. He glanced up from the soup and found her smiling. “Thank you for that.”

  He gave her a crooked grin in return, then it faded. “But still … by choosing not to tell us, you’re putting all of us at risk. What if she is there? She’s got to be stopped, Ves, you know that.”

  “I do. But not at the expense of my whole world.”

  Ben didn’t know what to say. He wanted to argue that it wasn’t genocide the Jedi were after, just … destroying Sith. But it sounded like the whole planet had become Sith, even the non-Force-users. He couldn’t give her a promise that only the “bad people” would be targeted and destroyed, because as far as Jedi like his father went, all Sith were bad people.

  She looked thoughtful for a moment, the datapad forgotten. “Unless …” she said, then shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “Unless what?”

  She hesitated, gnawing her lower lip for a moment. Ben again found his eye drawn to the tiny scar, the single perfect imperfection in a face that otherwise, to him, had no flaws. “Unless … you could give me a promise that my people—those who haven’t cooperated with Abeloth—would be safe.”

  He stared at her mutely, his blue eyes sad. She smiled, her own brown ones resigned. “See? I didn’t think so. The only way for that bargain to work would be if I had a chip to bargain with. Which … you might be able to give me.”

  After so much time in her company, Ben was getting used to Vestara’s subtle shifts in the Force. He was on the alert now, sensing that, contrary to what she wanted him to think, what she was about to say was something that had been on her mind for some time.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Trust … comes hard. But this would be something each of us could use against the other—if we had to, of course.”

  “Of course.” He leaned back and folded his arms, his face impassive.

  “I would consider revealing to you the location of my world … if you would tell me who you think is this Jedi queen.”

  He almost laughed. “There’s a difference, Vestara. Kesh is real. It exists. The Jedi queen is likely just some kind of figment of Taalon’s fevered imagination.”

  “You know,” she said, her voice equally conversational, “I somehow don’t think so. There’s at least a kernel of truth in it, or else you and your father wouldn’t have reacted so when it came up.” She leaned her chin on her hand, smiling at him.

  Ben considered the trade-off she was proposing. For about a nanosecond. And in that nanosecond, he came to the painful realization that at least for now, he didn’t trust Vestara Khai, though he badly wanted to.

  “If you’re telling the truth,” he said, “the best we can hope for is maybe—maybe—finding Abeloth and the Sith fleet. The best you could hope for is murdering someone very important to the future of this galaxy who might actually exist. And if you’re lying, and I actually did give you information—if there was any information to give—you would have everything and we’d have nothing.”

  Vestara did not seem at all put out. She actually smiled. “Ben, I can see why Ship was drawn to you. There’s the making of a fine Sith in you, you know that?”

  “Let us not devolve into insults,” Ben said. Vestara Force-tossed her muja fruit core at him, which he easily deflected. He wanted to be angry, but he couldn’t be. This was where they were, plain and simple. He was frustrated, but unsurprised, and he found that it did not stand, and never had stood, in the way of his liking and caring about her. He still believed she was edging her way over to the light side, but she wasn’t there.

  At least, not yet.

  “Well, now that you’ve had a chance to read about these,” Ben said, dragging the subject back on track, “where do you think Ship would be most likely to go?”

  “It’s hard to say. Perhaps Ziost?”

  Ben shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “There was nothing for him on Ziost. That’s why he wanted me to free him, so he could get away from it.”

  She looked at him, no doubt picking up on his discomfort. “Sure you’re not saying that because you don’t want to go back there?”

  The initial retort died on his lips. It was a fair question. He took a minute to think about it. “I’ll be honest,” he said, finally. “You’re right. I don’t want to go back there. I don’t really want to go to any of these places. But my wants are irrelevant. If I thought Ship would take Abeloth there, I’d be the first to investigate. But think about it. If there was anyone there on Ziost who would be important enough to Ship or Abeloth, that being—or those beings—would have already freed Ship long before I got there.”

  She nodded. “Good point. Well, what about—”

  “Korriban’s our best bet,” came a female voice. They both looked up as Jaina strode in and without preamble set about making a meal for herself.

  It was still odd, having Jaina aboard the Jade Shadow. After her transmission earlier, she had come to join them in person as well as spirit. It had been a while since Ben had been in such close proximity to his cousin for anything more than a family visit. He was gl
ad to be working with her, but he knew that she, like his dad, was … well, to say “highly skeptical” of Vestara was putting it mildly. And yet, she had made a point of including Vestara in all the conversations.

  “Why do you say that?” Vestara asked.

  “It’s the homeworld,” Jaina said, pouring two cups of caf. “Most of these other places do have a history for the Sith, but Korriban’s the history. It’s logically the place we should visit first.”

  Vestara lit up like an exploding sun in the Force for just the briefest instant. Ben’s heart sank.

  “We can send others out to explore some of the possible sites, but me, I’d like for us to go to Korriban,” Jaina continued, taking a sip from her cup. She acted as if she hadn’t seen Vestara’s reaction. Maybe she hadn’t, thought Ben. He was more attuned to Vestara than either Jaina or Luke. He might have been the only one who noticed it.

  “I would like to accompany you when you explore it,” Vestara said.

  Jaina didn’t bat an eye as she moved to leave with the steaming cups. “I think you should.”

  Ben was certain that he could literally hear his jaw drop.

  “You told her what?” Luke was accepting a cup of caf from Jaina, and nearly spilled it as she told him what she had said to Vestara.

  “You heard me,” Jaina said, plopping into a chair opposite her uncle. They were meeting in Luke’s quarters with the doors closed, so there was no chance of their being overheard.

  “You want me to take a Sith, whose trustworthiness seems to depend on the time of day, the season, and the phases of whatever moons happen to be nearby, with us on a potentially dangerous mission to the Sith homeworld.”

  “That’s about right, yes,” Jaina said.

  “Please give me a reason for why you think this is a good idea in any way, shape, or form.”

  “I’ll give you more than one,” Jaina said. “First, it’s because she’s a Sith. She grew up with this, Luke. Like I grew up in a family of Jedi. Her culture is obsessed with its history, and she probably knows more about the ancient Sith, their technology, languages, and maybe even alchemy, than we do. If her own safety and life are on the line, she’ll tell us what she knows if we run across anything useful.”