Jedi Eclipse

by James Luceno

  On a hover platform close to where the Justice Council was convened, Isolder’s former bodyguard, Astarta, opened the hatch to the prince’s personal quarters aboard the shuttle that was to return the Hapans to the Battle Dragon Song of War, just then in stationary orbit above Coruscant. Astarta showed Leia her most barbed glare before leaving the two of them alone.

  Isolder was standing at the cabin’s broad viewport, his back turned to the hatch. In the aftermath of the Battle of Fondor, events had conspired to prevent them from seeing each other for almost two weeks, and the Song of War was scheduled to launch for Hapes later that day.

  Leia waited for him to turn from the view of Coruscant’s impossibly tall towers before moving toward him, but the pained expression on his face brought her to a halt after only two steps.

  “Isolder, I’m so sorry,” she blurted, eyes brimming with tears.

  He compressed his lips, biting back whatever he had in mind to say, then sighed deeply. “Leia, we spoke of this before the fleet left Hapes. I told you then that I would never hold you accountable for any untoward outcome. We knew what we were risking by going to war.”

  Having expected him to say just that, Leia nodded silently.

  Frowning, Isolder stepped away from the viewport to regard her. “But you knew what was going to happen. You sensed it.”

  Leia let out her breath. “I sensed some tragedy in the making, but I didn’t know when or where, or even if it would transpire. I knew that some of what I was feeling owed to concerns for my children. But I couldn’t separate those from sudden doubts about having brought you into this, or about Commodore Brand’s strategy for Corellia.”

  Unable to continue, she shook her head mournfully.

  Isolder glanced away from her for a moment. “I’ve been asking myself if it would be easier to have been defeated by the Yuuzhan Vong rather than by misdirected fire from a weapon we didn’t even know existed.”

  “A weapon enabled by Anakin,” Leia said quietly.

  “Who also refused to fire it,” Isolder was quick to point out. “Leia, you must understand, we accept what has happened to us, without hostility or regret.”

  She held his sad gaze. “What will happen now?”

  He ran his hand over his mouth. “Well, I don’t anticipate a triumphant homecoming. The Consortium has split along lines dictated by the vote that landed us here. The naysayers have declared a victory, despite the fact that we have all suffered a dreadful loss. They’re calling for a policy of isolation—as if the Transitory Mists alone will be able to protect us from the long reach of the Yuuzhan Vong.”

  Leia nodded. “A similar rift has occurred in the New Republic Senate. The sneak attack on Fondor has galvanized the Core Worlds into preparing for the worst, but at the expense of alienating many of the Inner Rim worlds. Support for Fey’lya has been shaken, and the senate will probably demote or demand resignations from Commodore Brand and Admiral Sovv, even though they are desperately needed.”

  Isolder considered it. “That is the difference between the Consortium and the New Republic, perhaps between the old and new ways. Representatives of the New Republic are free to express their outrage without fear of breaching decorum or provoking an honor duel.” Isolder snorted a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t know which is the best method of governing, but I know that the Hapans will put on a brave front. Already the people of my world are saying that our fleet, though destroyed, saved the day for Fondor and the New Republic.”

  “And you would have.”

  Isolder shook his head. “That is unknown. But we will at our next engagement with the Yuuzhan Vong. I’m sure of that now, because we are compelled to make the deaths suffered at Fondor count for something.”

  “You’ll at least have the quick-recharge weapons technology Archon Thane wanted,” Leia said.

  Isolder worked his jaw. “Scarcely a consolation, but it will have to suffice.” He looked at Leia. “War benefits those who devise ever more expedient methods of destruction. Let us hope we can outmaster the Yuuzhan Vong at their own game.”

  Perched on the edge of his father’s favorite chair in their apartment on Coruscant, Jacen watched in dismay as a 3-D image of Thrackan Sal-Solo took shape above the HoloNet well. The voice of the Sullustan news anchor continued.

  “Former head of the so-called Human League, Thrackan Sal-Solo is being credited with turning the tide at the Battle of Fondor. While scores of New Republic warships were destroyed in the Yuuzhan Vong’s sneak attack on Fondor’s orbital construction facilities, Sal-Solo’s bold use of a hyperspace repulsor beam not only drove the invaders into retreat but destroyed a significant portion of their fleet.”

  The well projected an image of Centerpoint Station. “The repulsor beam was fired from Centerpoint Station, in the Corellian system, which, ironically, was used eight years ago during Corellia’s unsuccessful bid for independence from the New Republic. One of the many arrested for fomenting that crisis, Sal-Solo was released from prison to assist in rearming the station, and there are unconfirmed reports that he was the only one willing to assume the risk of triggering the weapon against the enemy fleet.

  “As to what’s next for Sal-Solo or Centerpoint, that depends on whom you ask. With a vote of no confidence looming for Governor-General Marcha, Duchess of Mastigophorous, some feel that Sal-Solo will be recruited to head the newly formed Centerpoint Party, which advocates independence for the five worlds that comprise the Corellian system. Centerpoint Station itself remains in the hands of the New Republic, but whether it will—or indeed can—be employed again as a long-range weapon depends largely on how successful Coruscant is at justifying the secondary destruction suffered at Fondor by the Hapan fleet.”

  The images of Sal-Solo and Centerpoint began to derezz, and the head and upper torso of the Sullustan news anchor reappeared.

  “In other news, a protest demonstration on Ruan, mounted by a group of recalcitrant droids—”

  “You ever going to get tired of listening to reports about Corellia?” Anakin interrupted from the doorway to the family room. “We turned Cousin Thrackan into a hero. What else needs to be said?”

  Jacen silenced the HoloNet. “Cheer up. At least this report didn’t mention us by name.”

  Anakin scowled. “Good. Now all we have to do is hope that Dad doesn’t hear about it.”

  “Since when does Dad care about the news? Besides, you’re the one the HoloNet should be calling a hero.”

  “For what—enabling Centerpoint?”

  “No, for not triggering it. That’s what’ll make Dad and Uncle Luke and anyone else who knows the full story proud of you.”

  Anakin snorted a laugh and shook his head. “You still don’t get it.” He stared at his brother. “I could have fired Centerpoint without hitting the Hapans. I saw it all, Jacen—in my head. I would have known where to direct the repulsor beam, and precisely when to fire. I even knew that Glowpoint wasn’t going to annihilate everyone in Hollowtown.”

  “Then why didn’t you fire? What stopped you?”

  “You mean aside from your telling me not to?”

  Jacen’s brows knitted in concern. “You were that sure of yourself?”

  “Yeah, I was. And my actions would have been defensive. If someone is aiming a blaster at your ally, do you raise your lightsaber to prevent it, or do you do nothing because a Jedi isn’t supposed to take aggressive action? I mean, where’s the line, Jacen? We’re in a war for survival, and defense sometimes means having to eliminate the opposition.”

  Jacen shook his head. “I don’t know where the line is, and I promised myself on Ithor that I’d stop trying to look for it. I just think there has to be some other way of responding—without having to raise a sword to deflect one raised against you.”

  Anakin smirked. “Well, when you figure it out, I hope you’ll let me in on it.”

  Jacen looked up at him. “Oh, I will, brother. You can count on that.”

  As they had done on Karrde’s
previous visit to Yavin 4, Luke and Talon followed the winding path to the Great Temple.

  “All I managed to do was place the Jedi in a worse position with the New Republic Senate and military,” Karrde was saying. “That’s why I felt I had to apologize in person.”

  “No one is expecting an apology,” Luke told him. “If actions were always judged by their consequence, we’d spend half our lives making amends. You came to us with a plan, and we went along with it. We’re partners in the outcome.”

  Karrde looked skeptical. “Unfortunately, that kind of reasoning doesn’t go far with Borsk Fey’lya and his allies. As happened after Ithor, they need someone to blame for what happened at Fondor, and I’ve set the Jedi up as the perfect fall guys.”

  Luke took a moment to respond. When he had first learned of the events at Fondor, he had felt betrayed—not by Karrde so much as by the Force. Almost as betrayed as he’d felt when Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda had conspired to keep secret the real identity of his father. But the sense of betrayal had passed through him in an instant. The Force hadn’t concealed anything from him; he had simply misunderstood that it was the Yuuzhan Vong rather than the Jedi who were employing deception, stealth, and misdirection. What continued to bother him, though, was the possibility that the mere presence of the Yuuzhan Vong was enough to mute the clarity of the Force.

  “Success and failure are sometimes intertwined,” Luke said finally. “Inadvertently or not, the Hutts misled us. But it was their information that allowed Kyp and Ganner to rescue those held captive aboard the yammosk vessel.”

  Karrde allowed a nod. “Everyone is too busy assigning blame to note the rescue of the captives or the destruction of the yammosk vessel. I’m only sorry that Kyp didn’t arrive in time to save Skidder.”

  “Wurth made his choice on Gyndine.”

  Luke left it at that, choosing not to add that Skidder’s sacrifice had widened the gulf between Kyp’s faction and some of the other Jedi. Where Skidder had sought to avenge the deaths of Miko Reglia and Daeshara’cor, Kyp and those who stood by him now had Skidder’s death to avenge.

  “If the Hutts deliberately misled us, they were repaid in kind,” Karrde said bitterly. “Fondor was one of the most profitable markets for the Besadii, and they lost some of their finest ships and most enterprising smugglers during the battle. Now Borga has to prepare for war with only half the clans supporting her and the rest holding her responsible for the Yuuzhan Vong’s betrayal. Several clan leaders have decamped Nal Hutta for Ganath, Ylesia, even Tatooine, and with the Yuuzhan Vong fleet blockading Hutt space, the New Republic couldn’t help even if it wanted to. Borga will be lucky if she doesn’t birth her child prematurely.”

  Karrde came to a sudden halt in the middle of the path and swung to Luke. “Do you think the Yuuzhan Vong realize what they’ve accomplished? They’ve sundered the Hutts, created a schism in the senate, taken the Hapans out of the war, sabotaged the import of the Jedi.” Before Luke could respond, he added, “Did you have any inkling it could end this way?”

  Luke heard the voice of his former Jedi Master: Always in motion is the future. Hard to see …

  “The future isn’t fixed,” he said. “It’s made up of possibilities. I saw without seeing.”

  Karrde blew out his breath. “What can we do now?”

  Decide you must how to serve them best. Help them you could. But you would destroy all for which they have fought and suffered.

  Luke took Karrde by the shoulders. “We can learn from our mistakes.”

  Leia had raced home from the shuttle departure platform only to find that Anakin and Jacen had already left. Now, with Isolder’s cheerless departure still on her mind and C-3PO and Olmahk helping her pack for an afternoon flight to Duro, the house comm system chirped, chirping insistently even after she had activated the answer-message function.

  Throwing her hands up in a gesture of surrender, she accepted the call. Han’s was the last face she expected to see appear on the display screen.

  “It’s just me,” he said, smiling lopsidedly while she gaped at his image, feeling as if months had passed since they had spoken. The display showed that he was calling from an Abregado-rae space terminal.

  “I see you shaved off your beard,” she said finally.

  He rubbed his chin. “Yeah, too itchy.”

  “Well, at least you look like your old self again.”

  He scowled, started to say something, then began again. “Grim business about what happened to the Hapans at Fondor. How’s Isolder doing?”

  “I figured you’d hear the news sooner or later—even in a playground like Abregado-rae.”

  “Hear about it?” Han said. “I saw it!”

  “You what?”

  “I was there—at Fondor.”

  “You were at Fondor,” she echoed in disbelief.

  “Droma and I were chasing after his clanmates. Some of them had managed to get themselves marooned in a deserted shipyard facility, and the rest were prisoners aboard a yammosk ship. Anyway, it’s a long, boring story. The point is, I saw the Hapan fleet get wiped out. But I thought Fondor’s primary went nova. I didn’t know it was Centerpoint.”

  Leia pushed her hair back from her forehead. “You realize that Anakin and Jacen were there.”

  Han took his lower lip between his teeth. “Did they fire it?”

  Leia’s nostrils flared. “Do you think they’d do something like that?”

  Han’s brow furrowed. “Take it easy. You know I don’t listen to the news.”

  Leia thought about telling him about Thrackan Sal-Solo’s sudden rise to fame, but decided against it, knowing that Han would find out soon enough.

  “Where did you bring the refugees you rescued?”

  “Here. But they can’t stay for long. Abregado-rae is pulling in the welcome mat.”

  Leia sighed. “SELCORE is searching for a world suitable for relocating everyone. We thought we were going to be able to count on Ruan, but Salliche Ag is suddenly refusing to accept any refugees.”

  Han averted his eyes momentarily. “About Ruan,” he started to say.

  “SELCORE is getting some unexpected help from Senator Shesh,” Leia went on. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”

  Han nodded. “Long as it’s somewhere the Ryn won’t be treated like riffraff.”

  “You have my word on it.” Leia paused, then added, “Will Droma be remaining with his clanmates?”

  “Yeah. The way I figure it, he and I are about even.”

  “So where does that leave you, Han?”

  “I’m not sure. What about you—are you finally home for good?”

  “I’m leaving this afternoon for Duro.”

  “Same old Princess Leia,” he said with a sneer. “Then I guess it doesn’t matter where I end up.”

  She narrowed her eyes for the cam. “Same old Han Solo.”

  He tried to lighten the moment with a laugh. “We are a pair, aren’t we?”

  “I don’t know, Han. You tell me.”

  His eyes flashed. “Well, look, be sure to let me know what planet SELCORE decides on.”

  “Anything to help the refugees,” Leia said with counterfeit good humor.

  “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”

  Leia folded her arms. “In that case, our paths are bound to cross one of these days.”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart, it’s a big galaxy.”

  “Only as big as you make it,” she said, deactivating the comm.

  In her new office, Viqi Shesh watched a full-color 3-D recording of herself being interviewed by reporters as she had emerged from the closed-session inquest into the command staff’s monumental blunder regarding Corellia and Fondor. Although she had been compelled to answer “No comment” to most of the reporters’ questions, she decided that she had carried herself well and had surely succeeded in stealing the limelight from Senator Ta’laam Ranth and others.

  The holorecording was about to recycle wh
en the intercom built into her greel-wood desk sounded a tone.

  “Senator Shesh,” her human secretary said, “there’s a Pedric Cuf here to see you. He admits to not having an appointment, but he claims that you have been trying to contact him for the past few months.”

  Shesh zeroed the holoprojector and leaned back in her swivel chair. “I’ve been trying to contact him?”

  “That’s what he says.”

  When Shesh glanced at the holo display for the reception room, she saw a very tall and gaunt human smiling for the cam. “Send him in,” she told her secretary.

  Cuf entered the office a moment later, tendering a brief but dignified bow before settling into the armchair to which she waved him.

  “I have long anticipated this meeting,” he began in Core-accented Basic. “I had hoped to speak with you sooner, but I’ve been preoccupied with business matters in the Outer Rim and in Hutt space.”

  Shesh brought her interlaced hands to her lips and studied Cuf over the tops of her extended forefingers. “I trust that matters concluded to your satisfaction.”

  Cuf smiled without showing his teeth. “To be perfectly honest, my associates and I were recently taken somewhat by surprise by a hostile bid for power by a Corellian firm. But, otherwise, yes, everything has been working out to our satisfaction.”

  Shesh could feel the blood racing through her veins, but she managed to keep her composure. “Why have you come to see me now?”

  “My superiors thought it a good idea that we become acquainted. To begin with, they wanted to thank you for your efforts of some months past, in seeing to it that some missing property was returned to us.”

  Cuf let the statement hang in the air. Shesh guessed that he was referring to Elan, the phony defector the Yuuzhan Vong had attempted to foist on the Jedi Knights, but she couldn’t be certain that he wasn’t a New Republic Intelligence agent, hoping to trick her into revealing her part in that affair or the Fondor calamity.