Star Wars: Dark Nest I: Joiner King

by Denning, Troy

“I think he was destroyed in the fire,” Jacen said. “I found a melted lump of metal that kind of looked like him.”

  Tenel Ka sighed. “Too bad. He could be a very annoying droid, but I know Lowie would have liked to have him back.” Their gazes met, and neither hurried to look away. “So, you’ve come to ask me to leave here and help track down Lomi and Welk, before they create a whole legion of Dark Jedi?”

  Jacen’s heart leapt. “You could do that?”

  Tenel Ka smiled, but her eyes turned sad. “No, Jacen. It was a joke.”

  “I see,” Jacen said, also growing a little sad. “Am I required to laugh?”

  “Only if you wish to avoid offending the Queen Mother.”

  “Never.” Jacen laughed dutifully, then added, “You still have a lot to learn about jokes.”

  “So you say.” Tenel Ka raised her hand and made an elaborate wave skyward. “Everyone here seems to think my jokes are quite funny.”

  “And you trust them?”

  “Only the ones who don’t laugh,” Tenel Ka admitted. She swung her leg back over the bench and assumed a more regal pose. “All right, Jacen. I confess, I cannot guess. What is it you require of us?”

  “A battle fleet,” he said. “For the Colony.”

  Tenel Ka’s face did not show the surprise that Jacen sensed from her in the Force. “That is a great deal to ask. The Hapes Consortium is a member of the Galactic Alliance.”

  “Does that mean the Galactic Alliance makes your decisions for you?”

  Tenel Ka’s gray eyes turned steely. “It means that we try to avoid angering Alliance friends.”

  “It’s more important to prevent this war,” Jacen said. “The Chiss are pushing too hard, and the Killiks couldn’t withdraw if they wanted to. It’s going to erupt into full-blown carnage, unless something happens to give the Chiss pause and the Colony a reason to be patient.”

  “And why should it matter to the Hapan people if a border conflict on the other side of the galaxy does become war?”

  “Because it would end in xenocide, one way or the other,” Jacen answered.

  Tenel Ka turned and looked up into the paan trees, and Jacen sensed in the silence her Jedi instincts battling her duties as the Hapan queen.

  “The Killiks are tied to the history of the galaxy in a way we don’t understand yet,” Jacen said. “They were living in cities before humans learned to build, and they were a civilization before the Sith were spawned. They were here when Centerpoint and the Maw were constructed—and they were driven from Alderaan by the beings who did it.”

  Though Tenel Ka’s gaze remained in the treetops, her eyes widened, and Jacen knew he was reaching her.

  “Tenel Ka, the galaxy will turn on what happens next,” Jacen said. “And the Killiks are the pivot point. We need time to figure this out, because it could be total war—or true and lasting peace.”

  Tenel Ka finally turned to look at him. “What about the will of the Force, Jacen? Why not trust it?”

  The reference to the Jedi’s new understanding of the Force made Jacen think of Vergere—the lost Master who had opened their eyes to so much of that new understanding—and he smiled at the first truth she had taught him: Everything I tell you is a lie.

  To Tenel Ka, he said, “Should I trust a river because it wants to run downhill?”

  Tenel Ka frowned. “I am the one who asks the questions on Hapes, Jedi Solo.”

  Jacen chuckled. “Okay. The Force isn’t a deity, Tenel Ka. It’s not self-conscious, and it isn’t capable of caring what happens to us. It’s a flow. Its only will is to remove that which blocks it. When we facilitate that flow, when we allow it to run through us to others, we’re in harmony. We’re using the light side.”

  “And the dark side?”

  “Is when we block that flow and turn it to our own ends,” Jacen said. “We keep it from others. And when we release it too quickly, we turn it from a nurturing stream into a destructive flood.”

  “Didn’t Vergere teach that our intentions make an act dark or light?” Tenel Ka asked.

  “She did,” Jacen admitted. “And she was telling the truth, from a certain point of view. If you have good intentions, you tend to let the Force flow through you. If not, you tend to bottle it up inside, and it starts eating away at your good looks.”

  Tenel Ka looked at him from the corner of one eye. “I prefer my truths to remain true from all points of view.”

  “Sorry,” Jacen said. “The Force is too big.”

  “And this is what you learned in the five years you were gone?”

  “The core of it, yes.”

  Tenel Ka studied the ground for a moment, then looked back at him. “It took five years to learn that?”

  “There was a lot of travel time,” Jacen said.

  Tenel Ka smiled and rolled her eyes, then asked, “What about our Killiks? Is the Force flowing through them, or into them?”

  “Too early to say,” Jacen said. “Raynar has grown incredibly powerful in a short time.”

  “And that doesn’t scare you?”

  “Of course it does,” Jacen said. “But right now, he’s trying to avoid a war. I’ll be a lot more frightened when he stops.”

  Tenel Ka nodded. “Fact.” She stood and extended her hand. “I think my suitors have had enough time to plot your death.”

  “I’m glad I could bring them together.”

  “Yes, you have been very useful that way.” They started down the moss path toward the water. “I hope you will stay the night. It would be even more effective.”

  Jacen slowed. “Tenel Ka…” He did not need to wonder exactly what she was asking; he could feel it in the Force. “I didn’t come here to…to become your paramour.”

  “You won’t. Paramours are playthings.” She stopped in full view of the pond’s far bank and gave him a long, warm kiss. “And I would never play with you, Jacen Solo.”

  Jacen was beginning to feel very carried along—and spending the night could only help his chances of getting the fleet. “Then I’ll stay,” he said. “But it can only be one night.”

  “One night is fine,” Tenel Ka said. “One night will be very useful.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  The observation deck was as stately, luxurious, and hushed as one would expect aboard the Bornaryn Trading Company’s mighty flagship, the Tradewyn. A curving wall of transparisteel enclosed the cabin on three sides, offering an expansive view of the vast cargo fleet waiting permission to descend into the thin atmosphere of a dusty orange planet. In the distance, a star-fighter security screen was scratching a grid of blue ions across a star-flecked backdrop.

  The luxurious cabin was the kind of place that always made Tesar drool with nervousness. He drew air through his fangs to dry them, then followed his human escort past a long beverage bar toward a woman and two men waiting at the front of the deck. It was a long trip made longer by the fact that they had all turned to watch his approach—and by his fear of depositing a glob of saliva on the expensive wroshyr-wood floor.

  Now that he was actually here, twenty steps from the Thul family, Tesar could not understand what had possessed him to track down the Bornaryn merchant fleet. He had overheard Master Skywalker and several others discussing how much should be told to Raynar’s mother about her son’s fate. A few hours later, Tesar had felt compelled to find Aryn Thul himself, and a few hours after that he had sneaked off Ossus in a Jedi StealthX. It had not begun to seem like a bad idea until he had arrived outside the Tradewyn’s docking bay, taking the ship’s watch officer by surprise and causing the consternation that had scrambled the fleet’s starfighter screen.

  Tesar’s escort stopped in front of the three humans and bowed to the woman. “Madame Thul, may I present Jedi Sebatyne—Tesar Sebatyne.”

  Dressed in a blue shimmersilk gown, Madame Thul was gaunt and short, with long chestnut hair and a regal bearing. She wore a sash striped with scarlet, yellow, and purple.

  “Tesar was one of the Jedi Knigh
ts who accompanied Raynar on the Mission.” The escort stressed the word Mission just enough to make clear that this was how they referred to Raynar’s disappearance. “He agreed to leave his weapons in a locker.”

  “Thank you, Lonn.” Madame Thul lifted her chin and examined Tesar head-to-toe, lingering a moment on his brown Jedi robe and the empty lightsaber clasp on his utility belt. “I know the name.”

  Suspecting he was expected to speak now, Tesar drew more air to dry his fangs—creating a small hiss that caused Madame Thul to flinch. The dark-haired man behind her fingered the hold-out blaster in his pocket and took a single step forward.

  “Sorry. This one did not mean to scare you.” Tesar felt a drop running down his front fang and sucked air across his teeth again. “It is very warm in here.”

  Madame Thul raised a carefully thinned brow. “Something to drink?”

  “Yes, that would be good.”

  Madame Thul waited a moment, then prompted, “Endorian port? Bespin sparkle? Talhovian ale?”

  “Do you have nerf milk?” Milk always slowed the drool. “Which planet doesn’t matter.”

  The shadow of a smile flicked across Madame Thul’s lips, then she turned to her servant. “Milk for Jedi Sebatyne, Lonn. We’ll have our usual.”

  The servant bowed and departed to collect the drinks.

  Madame Thul gestured to the blond man at her side. “This is my late husband’s brother, Tyko.” She did not bother to introduce the bodyguard. “Now, what can Bornaryn Trading do for the Jedi?”

  “Nothing.” Sensing he should probably not just blurt out the news about Raynar to this frail woman, Tesar said, “This one is here with newz.”

  “News?” Tyko asked.

  “About Raynar.”

  Tyko scowled and slipped half a step forward, moving to shield his sister-in-law. “Raynar died at Myrkr.”

  “Yes,” Tesar said. “After a fashion.”

  “After a fashion?” Madame Thul gasped. “You mean he’s alive?”

  “After a fashion, yes,” Tesar said, happy he had broken the news gently. “That is what I—”

  “My son is alive?”

  Madame Thul’s knees buckled, and she would have hit the floor had Tesar not reached out and caught her beneath the armpits. He waited while the stunned bodyguard jerked his hand from the blaster pocket, then laid her back into the man’s arms.

  “S-sorry.” Tesar sucked more air to dry his fangs. “This one did not mean to touch her. When he saw her falling, he just—”

  “It’s…it’s okay. Thank you.” Madame Thul glanced up at her bodyguard. “Perhaps we should sit down, Gundar.”

  “Of course.”

  Gundar returned Madame Thul to her feet and guided her toward a chair. Tesar started to follow, but Tyko put a hand on his chest.

  Tesar reacted as most Barabels would to being touched by a stranger. He grabbed Tyko’s wrist and pulled it past his face, bringing the elbow into perfect biting position.

  “Stop!” Tyko cried. “What are you doing?”

  Tesar looked down at the man out of one eye. “You did not challenge this one?”

  “N-no!” Tyko was up on his toes, being held so that his feet barely touched the floor. “I just wanted to talk to you!”

  “We were talking,” Tesar pointed out.

  “Alone.” Tyko’s eyes slid toward the krayt-leather couches where Madame Thul’s bodyguard had deposited her. “Quietly.”

  “My brother-in-law is being protective,” Madame Thul explained from her seat. Her blue eyes shifted to Tyko. “That’s hardly necessary, Tyko. I’m sure I can judge for myself whether Jedi Sebatyne has come selling starlight.”

  “If he is a Jedi,” Tyko said. “I doubt anyone here can tell one Barabel in a robe from another.”

  Tesar saw the doubt flash through Madame Thul’s eyes and realized he might be asking the Thuls to take a lot on faith. He released Tyko’s arm and turned toward the bar, where the servant had gathered their drinks on a silvertine tray. Tesar reached out with the Force and lifted the tray out of the servant’s hands, then floated it over to Madame Thul.

  Her surprise quickly turned to approval. “Thank you, Jedi Sebatyne.” She removed a small crystal goblet filled with burgundy liquid, then shot her brother-in-law an amused look. “I think that establishes Tesar’s bona fides quite sufficiently.”

  Tesar floated the tray over to Tyko.

  “It would be hard to argue.” Tyko took a golden-rimmed snifter that contained a clear yellow liquor.

  Tesar took his milk, then returned the tray to the astonished servant and followed Tyko over to Madame Thul. He sat down on a padded tail-stool the bodyguard offered.

  “Now, Jedi Sebatyne, tell me about my son,” Madame Thul ordered. “What does after a fashion mean?”

  “The ship he was aboard crashed in the Unknown Regionz,” Tesar began. “There was a fire.”

  “Oh.” Madame Thul reached for her brother-in-law’s hand. “Go on.”

  “He was taken in by a nest of sentient insectz,” Tesar said.

  “The Killiks?” Tyko glanced at Madame Thul. “Our agents have been hearing reports of an insect colony in the Unknown Regions.”

  “They call themselvez the Kind,” Tesar clarified. “Raynar’z nest is the Unu. It is the Colony’z king nest, and he is the Prime Unu.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” There was a touch of pride in Madame Thul’s voice. “Raynar has always been such a natural leader.”

  “Always,” Tyko agreed. “What exactly is the Prime? The chairman?”

  “Voice would be closer,” Tesar said. He started to explain how other species sometimes joined the collective mind of the Killiks, then felt a restraining influence and decided to leave it for later, when the Thuls would be better able to understand. “He representz the Colony, and sees that itz Will is done.”

  Tyko nodded as though he understood exactly what Tesar meant. “The operating officer. Not quite as high as the chairman, but more important in terms of real power.”

  “That hardly matters, Tyko,” Madame Thul said. “We’ll groom him to take my place when he returns home.”

  Madame Thul may have missed the alarmed flash in Tyko’s eyes, but Tesar did not.

  “This one does not think Raynar will return,” he said. Part of Tesar still wanted to bite Tyko’s arm off, but another part realized that it was important to avoid making an enemy of the man—to be certain Tyko understood that Raynar did not threaten his position. “Raynar is too important to the Colony.”

  “Of course he is,” Madame Thul said, addressing Tesar. “How long will it take him to groom a replacement?”

  “This one is sorry,” Tesar said. “He is not making himself clear. Raynar will not be returning. He has joined the Colony. He has become Unu. He has become the UnuThul.”

  “Are you really trying to tell me that my son has become an insect?” Madame Thul demanded.

  “Not physically,” Tesar said. “But, yes.”

  “By the Core!” Madame Thul studied him for a moment, then grew pale. “You’re serious!”

  Tesar nodded, and the purpose of his visit finally began to grow clear to him.

  “Unu wishez to establish a relationship between the Colony and Bornaryn Trading,” he said. “A confidential relationship.”

  “And you’re the authorized agent?” Tyko asked.

  Tesar considered a moment, then said, “For now.”

  Tyko accepted this with a nod, then turned to Madame Thul. “I’ve heard that there is large demand for the shine-balls and amber ale the independent smugglers are bringing back from the Unknown Regions.”

  Madame Thul seemed too shocked to reply. She merely nodded, then drained the contents of her goblet and held it up for the servant.

  “Lonn—”

  “Of course, madame.” Lonn took the empty goblet and replaced it with a full one. “I shall keep them coming.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Even full hazmat gea
r could not prevent Alema from appearing immodest and just a little bit debauched. The suit she had selected was two sizes too small, stretched so tightly over her svelte curves that it was apparent she had decided to leave her underclothes—if she owned any—aboard the crippled Falcon. Leia shook her head in weary amusement, wondering whom Alema was hoping to attract on the deserted planet that had jerked them out of hyperspace. Then again, had Leia spent her formative years as a dancing slave in a Kala’uun ryll den—or merely been a Twi’lek female—she, too, might have felt comfortable only when on display.

  Alema glanced back, no doubt feeling Leia’s scrutiny through the Force. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not really.” Leia dropped her gaze to the Twi’lek’s seat area. “Just wondering if that suit is going to split.”

  Alema craned around to look, then gave a roguish smile. “Only if I bend over.”

  Juun came down the access corridor holding Alema’s utility belt and lightsaber. “You forgot this, Jedi Rar.”

  “I don’t think we’ll be needing weapons,” Leia said. “The scan showed no animal life at all.”

  “Better to be safe,” Juun said.

  “Why, thank you, Jae.” Alema raised her arms and let him buckle on the belt. When the short-armed Sullustan had to press his face against her stomach, she smiled and added, “You’re always so considerate.”

  Silently cursing the Sullustan’s growing infatuation with Alema, Leia had C-3PO fetch her own belt and buckled it on herself. After a thorough inspection of the Falcon had revealed no trace of insect stowaways, the Solos had been forced to turn their suspicions in other directions. Their plan had been to keep Alema separated from her weapons until Leia figured out whether she was the one who had been sabotaging the Falcon—but no one had told that to Juun, of course. He was the only other suspect.

  Leia passed the Twi’lek four twenty-liter buckets, then lowered the boarding ramp. A cool wind was hissing across the marsh grass, carrying on its breath the fragrance of a carpet of nearby blossoms. Not far beyond, a ribbon of open water purled past, vanishing into the dark wall of a distant conifer forest.