"Then you're a true Jedi," Kyp said with gentle admiration, but wasted no more time as he ducked into the shuttle and emerged with a pitifully small assortment: five blaster pistols and one laser cutter. "Better than nothing," he said.
Dorsk 81 looked at them. "Not by much."
They glanced up at the continuing thunderous sound from the sky as wave after wave of ground assault landers spewed from the fleet of Star Destroyers in orbit. ...
Inside, deep in the war room on the second level of the pyramid, the Jedi Knights gathered, unable to shut out the echoing thumps of the constant attack.
Tionne shook her silvery head. "The Imperials have a jamming net in place," she said. "No communications can go out. We have to hope the New Republic heard your original warning, Kyp."
"They'll be here," Kirana Ti said with grim confidence. She held the deactivated lightsaber in her grip. This was the weapon that had been built by one of the other Jedi trainees, Gantoris, a year earlier ... back when the trainees had encountered the dark spirit of Exar Kun. In fact, in this very war room the Jedi trainees--again without Luke Skywalker--had met to plan the defeat of Kun and free their Jedi Master.
"But will the reinforcements be here soon enough?" Kam Solusar said skeptically.
Kyp Durron paced the enclosed room. "The Star Destroyers in orbit are the primary threat," he said, gesturing upward. "Though we're being attacked by TIE fighters and ground assault machinery, we're seeing only a fraction of the complement those Star Destroyers carry. Tionne, were you able to determine how many ships there are in orbit?"
She looked at him with her quicksilver eyes. "Seventeen, I believe. Imperial'-class."
Some of the newer trainees gasped, but Kyp stood straighter. He placed his hands on the tabletop, pressing down with his fingernails until his knuckles turned white. "Right now we feel strong because of all those ships we smashed over at the other temple--but no matter how good we are, no matter how many of their ground forces we successfully take out, those Star Destroyers will keep sending ship after ship. We can't succeed if we fight them on such a limited scale."
"But how else can we fight a Star Destroyer from here?" Kirana Ti said.
Kyp looked around hopefully. "I don't suppose anybody has an idea?"
Dorsk 81 sat in turmoil, rigid, his hands clasped on the table as thoughts whirled around him. He remembered how easy it had been to smash the AT-ST walker, how he had used the Force to shove it away. If only ...
"I have a suggestion," Dorsk 81 said. His lips were a thin line; his olive green face was blotched as his emotions roiled beneath his skin.
Kyp looked at his friend, and Dorsk 81 could feel the sudden upsurge of anticipation from the gathered students. He had to give them something to cling to. He swallowed. "We cannot succeed if we fight small battles individually,” Dorsk 81 said. "But together we are more powerful than the sum of our parts. We can join our abilities."
Kirana Ti and Kam Solusar looked at him, musing. He leaned over the table and gestured to the other trainees. "Some of you were there when we finally defeated Exar Kun. We pooled our strengths, we joined as one, as champions of the Force--and, united, we unlocked a greater reservoir of strength than any of us could have imagined."
"But what can we do?" the young reptilian trainee said, her voice thin and hissing from the back of her throat, her blue frill still raised.
Dorsk 81 hesitated for a moment. The suggestion was preposterous ... but right now the situation was so grim they would take even an impossible idea seriously. He kept his voice flat. "We can use the Force to ... move the Star Destroyers away."
The collective gasp among the trainees was a mixture of disbelief and delight. "It's too much," Kam Solusar said. "There are too many. Seventeen Imperial'-class Star Destroyers!"
Dorsk 81 was not flustered. "Size matters not," he said. "How many times has Master Skywalker told us that? At first many of us didn't believe we could lift a pebble or a leaf. A little while ago we hurled giant boulders at ships flying high above our heads. Streen just knocked four TIE fighters together with nothing more than wind. All this was without planning, without preparation, and without help.
"The Force is in all things," Dorsk 81 continued. "There is no fundamental difference between a pebble and a Star Destroyer. Besides, the ships have no way to prepare against an attack such as this."
As others began to mutter, Kyp hammered his fist down. "Hey! Haven't you listened to Master Skywalker's teachings?" he said. "If it doesn't work, we'll have to find something else--but I think we should do this."
That stopped further discussion. Dorsk 81 rose to his feet. "These temples were built long ago by the Massassi. We have learned," he nodded to Tionne, "that their original purpose was to serve as a focus for the energies that the Dark Lords of the Sith manipulated. We can use these temples for a similar purpose--but to serve the light side, to protect ourselves.”
"I will go to the top of this temple and be the focal point for all of your energies. We will join together, some thirty of us bound by the Force." Dorsk 81 raised his voice. Inner power grew in him as he spoke. He had never before desired leadership of any kind, but now he no longer felt like a follower. He felt strong and driven. "Pool your resources, and I will draw from you, channel it through myself, and push out just as I did with that scout walker. I'll shove them away, tumble them end over end, knock the Star Destroyers far from here."
He trembled as he said this, and Kyp stood beside him, clasping the cloned alien's thin shoulder.
"And after we get the battlecruisers away,” Kyp said, "then we can mop up the remnants of the attackers down here." He smiled. "It might be all finished by the time the New Republic gets here."
"We must not wait," Dorsk 81 said. "We are all together now, but the attack is intensifying. Even this Great Temple won't be stable for long, unless we do something."
At the apex of the pyramid, Dorsk 81 stood barefoot on the sun-warmed flagstones that had been locked together to form an observation deck. The Jedi trainees frequently came up here to watch the rainbow-filled sunrise at the limb of the gas giant overhead. Tall fires in the jungles surrounding the temple complex crackled and rose into the sky. Below, squadrons of mechanical scout walkers and ground-chewing siege machinery worked their way toward the Jedi stronghold.
The Imperials had figured out that the Jedi Knights were no longer at the Temple of the Blueleaf Cluster; now that the trainees had gathered in the tallest temple, Pellaeon's attackers would soon direct their strike at the ziggurat.
Dorsk 81 tilted his smooth face up to the sky and held his hands at his sides, fingers spread. The stone felt strong beneath the soles of his feet, and he calmed himself, reaching within him for threads that he could spin together with the others.
Kyp and Kirana Ti, Kam Solusar, and all the other Jedi trainees--some he knew well, others he had barely met--also focused their abilities. Dorsk 81 recalled how they had banded together to fight Exar Kun, and now he felt the same invisible whirlwind surrounding him.
The new Jedi Knights joined together with invisible cords of light. The bonds were strong, reinforcing their skills from person to person. Dorsk 81 stood in the middle, the eye of the storm, where he could draw upon the Force, magnify it with a strength greater than he had ever conceived. In his mind an evil shadow of doubt flickered. He suddenly wondered if it wasn't indeed impossible to move such a huge fleet.
His doubt began to grow and he recalled again the face of his elder clone, Dorsk 80, scowling at him--you'll never accomplish anything more important than what you could have done on Khomm.
Why don't you stay with us? the younger Dorsk 82 had pleaded. Everything will be fine, just the way it always was.
But Dorsk 81 wanted more. His life had a greater purpose. He had sensed that from early on, but had ignored it for so long. Now he was a Jedi Knight. A Jedi Knight.
His determination formed a crushing vise in his mind that obliterated the doubt--and before he could be dis
tracted by other thoughts, Dorsk 81 reached out and grasped the threads of Force the other trainees offered to him. He felt as if he had tapped into a huge power source, an overload of energy that he channeled through himself without hesitation.
He reached upward with his hands, picturing the Star Destroyers in orbit: seventeen wedge-shaped engines of death bristling with weapons, loaded with more TIE fighters and assault troops. His thoughts soared outward, leaving the emerald jungle moon behind, and trailing behind his presence came a battering ram of invisible, irresistible Force that would be undetectable on any Imperial scanners. The Star Destroyers waited, overconfident, powerful--unsuspecting.
He found them. Touched them with his mind. They were huge, greater in mass than he had imagined; even so, he used the Force to push. Dorsk 81 strained, touching the cluster of ships ... but they proved immovable, too large. The Force held them, yet it could not do what he needed it to do. He tried harder.
He drew more energy from the others. He could feel the determination and controlled anger of Kyp Durron, the clean fighting prowess of Kirana Ti, the powerful deep knowledge of Tionne, the grim pain of Kam Solusar, the childlike wonder of Streen--and more ... more. He took all of the Jedi trainees within himself, braiding the threads together, becoming a vast and complex set of memories, strengths, and skills. He reached deeper and deeper.
The Force seemed to be a bottomless well, offering more than he had thought possible--but as Dorsk 81 pulled it inside himself, he also felt the danger, the destructive potential: too much of this strength could be his downfall. He pushed again, straining harder, abandoning all caution. The Star Destroyers moved slightly in space, bucking and resisting--but it was still not enough.
In his mind Dorsk 81 saw yet another wing of TIE fighters launched with orders to finish the destruction of the Jedi Knights. That must never happen.
Dorsk 81 exerted his mind to the breaking point. His body trembled. His yellow eyes saw nothing around him now, because every thought was focused out into space where Pellaeon's Star Destroyers waited.
You are a Jedi Knight, Kyp had told him, and sometimes that means we must make difficult decisions. Dorsk 81 knew this, knew it in his heart-- and he didn't allow fear. The Force was with him. Perhaps more Force than he could handle ... but he still had a mission to perform. No matter what it might take.
All the other Jedi Knights depended on him alone, and he knew that this was what he had to accomplish. This was the deed that his predecessor Dorsk 80 would never be able to comprehend. Without a second thought, without hesitation, Dorsk 81 reached all the way down, drawing from the deep wells of Force that the thirty gathered Jedi Knights had opened for him. He took more and more without restraint, hoarding it within himself, letting it build as he absorbed the full searing power amplified through the Great Temple , focused it through his body and launched it at the fleet of Star Destroyers.
"Move!" he shouted.
The words themselves were like power incarnate, white-hot energy flaming out of his mouth, from his fingertips, surging through his body and burning, burning. The inside of his head went bright--like a star going supernova behind his skull, and his consciousness rode along with the tidal wave of Force. He felt it strike the seventeen Star Destroyers, and they slammed backward like twigs in a typhoon. The shockwave flung the entire fleet far out, cast them helplessly beyond the fringes of the Yavin System, their computers fried, their propulsion systems wrecked, still accelerating from the storm of the Force.
Pellaeon's fleet of Star Destroyers went ... away.
Dorsk 81 also rode the storm--to an ultimate, unknown destination. The Force dropped Kyp like a severed rope.
All the Jedi trainees tumbled weakly to their knees. When he could see again, blinking through colored spangles in front of his eyes, he saw Dorsk 81--or what remained of him--still tottering at the center of the observation platform.
Though his own legs wanted to collapse, Kyp struggled forward to grab his friend. Dorsk 81 collapsed and fell against him. The two of them slid to the sun-warmed flagstones.
"Dorsk 81," Kyp said, looking down in horror as the cloned alien's skin sizzled from within, as if the tissues had been brought to a boil. Dorsk 81's wide yellow eyes were now only smoldering sockets. Steam rose from his body.
A breath of words curled out of his gaping, blackened mouth. "They're gone, my friend," he said.
"Wait!" Kyp said. "Wait, we'll find a healer. We'll get Cilghal back. We'll find--” But Dorsk 81 was already dead in his arms.
CHAPTER 47
Admiral Daala's black Knight Hammer arrived, the second wave of the assault on the Jedi stronghold. The ship hung as an opaque wedge eight kilometers long, silhouetted like a knife blade against the pale orange sphere of Yavin.
Daala's troops were on full alert, and her weapons systems had been powered to maximum levels. She stood on the bridge deck looking out over the sweeping metal plain that formed the Knight Hammer's upper hull.
By the time she reached the system, she had expected to find Pellaeon virtually finished with his attack, so she could enjoy the final destruction of the Jedi Knights. But as the Knight Hammer sliced through space, Daala felt her enthusiasm crumble into astonishment. She saw no sign of Pellaeon's fleet in orbit around Yavin 4.
The bone-white Imperial Star Destroyers were simply not there. Space around the green jungle moon was empty.
"Where is he?" Daala demanded. "Open a channel. Find Pallaeon."
"Scanning the area, Admiral," the sensor chief said. "No sign of Star Destroyers in the Yavin System."
Daala glowered down at the jungle moon, appalled and speechless.
"He was here, sir," the tactical officer said. "The jammer satellite net is in place. The Jedi Knights have not sent any signals, as far as we can tell, and I do detect some ground activity. Heavy weapons fire in the jungles. Ground assault troops have been deployed--but the Star Destroyers are no longer here."
Daala ran a gloved finger along her chin. She scowled. "Something has gone terribly wrong." She turned back to the sensor chief. "Expand your scan," she said. "Look across the entire planetary system, not just near the gas giant. Did Pellaeon retreat? He knew I was coming."
The sensor chief checked and rechecked her readings, shaking her head. She looked up at Daala. "There's no sign, sir. I've run a sweep all the way to the outer planets and I find no ships. No wreckage either. Vice Admiral Pellaeon was here at the jungle moon--but now he's gone."
Daala felt cold needles of sweat prickle her scalp as anger raised her body temperature. She looked down at the jungle moon and thought of the Jedi Knights down there, fledgling sorcerers wielding a Force she did not understand. They should have been such an easy target. ... Daala knew where to channel her anger.
For most of her professional life, Daala had restrained a wealth of spite and venom, barely controlled fury that would have eaten its way out of her if she had not found a way to express it. Life had been peaceful for her once, long ago, when she had been young and in love--but that was before the Carida military academy, before Tarkin (whom she admired more than loved). Now she was left with only anger.
Luckily for the Empire, her methods of releasing that inner pressure had often resulted in devastation to the enemy. She could keep herself psychologically strong only if she had a target--and now she decided that target must be the Jedi Knights on Yavin 4. They had ruined her straightforward total victory.
The Knight Hammer's launching bays were packed with thousands of TIE fighters and TIE bombers, fully loaded and ready to be deployed, but Daala decided against it. Pellaeon would have taken that tack, and if the Jedi Knights somehow had a secret defense against individual fighters such as those, she must adapt--and use a different strategy.
"Order all TIE pilots to stand down for the moment," she said. "Have them return to their crew quarters and remain on full alert. I won't be launching their ships just yet." She wanted to waste no time.
"Do we have plans for an a
ttack, Admiral?" the weapons chief said from his station, looking disappointed as he assessed his array of weaponry.
"Yes," Daala said. "We strike from orbit. All turbolaser batteries, full strength. Fire at will, targeting any structures in the jungle."
"Yes, Admiral!" the weapons chief said with obvious enthusiasm. Lances of brilliant energy shot down to the placid surface of the small moon below. The gas giant Yavin seemed unperturbed by the holocaust occurring on its tiny sibling.
The Knight Hammer's weapons chief fired another volley of deadly turbolasers, and another, and another. Daala stared fixated at the target. She slammed her gloved fist into the bridge rail with each shot, as if she could add to the destructive potential of the blast.
She stood and waited, feeling her anger smoldering with a barely expressed satisfaction.
Her appetite for destruction had merely been whetted. Even from her place in the Knight Hammer, high above Yavin 4, she could already see the forests starting to burn.
CHAPTER 48
Like armored birds of prey, the Victory'-class Star Destroyers struck target after target, leaving a swath of flames and destruction in their wake.
Colonel Cronus sat back in the uncomfortable command chair of the 13X and scrutinized his dwindling list of targets compiled by Admiral Daala. He clasped his hands together, squeezing, flexing his arm muscles. His entire body felt tense, coiled with fierce pride. His mind was ablaze with success after success--but he did not allow himself to grow giddy with satisfaction, because then he might let his guard down and perform less than perfectly. He couldn't afford that, not after such a glowing record.
He sat back, strapped himself in, and prepared for another battle. "Shields up,” he said.
"Acknowledged," the tactical officer said.
"Prepare to engage." One by one, the other Victory ships checked in automatically as their computers sent coded responses. Cronus leaned forward, squeezing the arms of his command chair so tightly that his fingertips left indentations. "Full forward," he said.
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