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Ruin: Dark Tide II

Page 9

by Michael A. Stackpole


  Corran hit a switch, and the connectors holding Best Chance inside Lost Hope all released. The smaller ship tumbled free of the shell that had brought it into the atmosphere. Corran made no attempt to direct its flight or stabilize it, he just let it twist like any other piece of debris. As the ship came around, Jacen managed to look through the viewports and catch a glimpse of the Hope’s fiery descent to Garqi.

  The altimeter built into Jacen’s console scrolled off the meters to the planet’s surface dizzyingly fast. Six kilometers shrank swiftly to four, then three and two. Jacen recalled a single klick being their margin of safety and sought any sense of anxiety from Corran as the small ship plunged past that barrier.

  He got none, which brought a smile to his face. He could easily imagine his father sitting in the pilot’s chair, waiting and waiting to bring the ship to full power, pushing safety margins that he considered overly generous. Jacen didn’t necessarily think this willingness to undertake risks was part and parcel of being a Corellian as much as it was an artifact of the Rebellion. Pilots then had had to do outrageous things to win the freedom of everyone in the galaxy. For them, prudence gave way to efficacy.

  Five hundred and seven meters above Garqi’s rain forest—covered surface, Corran boosted full power to the repulsorlift coils. This marginally slowed their descent but didn’t prevent the ship from plunging into the trees, shearing off limbs, splintering wood, and scattering a colorful cloud of birds. The Best Chance crashed down through the upper canopy and through the midlevel before the repulsorlift coils met enough resistance in the planet’s mass to bounce the Chance backup.

  Corran let the small ship hang there in the air as the purple leaves and gnarled branches strewn over the forward viewport began to shrivel and smolder against the hot hull. “Everyone okay?”

  “I’m good.” Jacen glanced back at the others as they all reported in unharmed.

  The small ship’s comm speakers crackled. “This is Flight Command Ralroost recalling all fighters. Evac countdown has commenced.”

  “Rogue Eleven here. We have a freighter down.”

  “We’re aware of that, Eleven. The ship broke up. No life signs.”

  Jacen felt a shiver run down his spine. Jaina’s X-wing’s sensors would be too weak to pick up life signs at this great a range, so she had to believe he was dead. Just for a heartbeat he wanted to open himself up in the Force so she’d know he lived, but he stopped himself.

  Corran turned and nodded to him. “I know it’s tough, Jacen, but she’ll be told the truth once the ’Roost pulls out.”

  Jacen shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever done anything like that to her before—to anyone before.”

  “It would be great if you never had to do it again, either, but there are times when a little cruelty now saves more a lot later. It’s an unfortunate part of growing up.” Corran gave him a smile.

  “I copy.” Jacen hit a button on his console and punched up a specific frequency. “I have a locator beacon on our contact frequency. Heading two-one-nine.”

  Corran ruddered the ship around on that heading and fed power to the engines. The small ship began to move forward sliding through the forest. The branches scraped along the hull, and furry anthropoids scurried away in terror. The ship moved on, letting the purple world of Garqi swallow it and, hopefully, hide them and their mission from the Yuuzhan Vong.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Once the Pulsar Skate came out of hyperspace and began its descent toward Vortex, Luke Skywalker could feel the peace of the Vors lapping against him like waves on a shore. He traveled from the lounge amidship in the long, slender freighter to the cockpit and smiled. Mara sat in the copilot chair, and R2-D2 had plugged himself into a restraining socket build behind her chair. Opposite him a green and white R2 droid had taken a similar position behind the pilot.

  Mirax Terrik Horn, her long black hair gathered into a braid, turned and regarded Luke with a steady, brown-eyed gaze. “We made it. With Whistler and Artoo both doing nav plots, we shaved a good distance off that run.”

  The droids tootled happily in unison.

  The Jedi Master smiled. “Once again, I am happy you were willing to make this run for us.”

  Mirax shrugged. “I regularly have Whistler monitor request traffic for courier runs. Anything with Jedi appended to it gets a high priority from me. Besides, with Corran off out there somewhere, my children at the academy, and my father doing whatever he’s doing, I’d just be sitting at home.”

  Mara smiled. “Better doing something than just waiting.”

  “Waiting is so boring.”

  Luke raised an eyebrow. “I don’t seem to recall the word boring ever being applied to times when the two of you are running around together. In fact, I recall—”

  Mara held a hand up. “We were exonerated.”

  “And we could have been at your academy during those years instead of off on our adventures. Your students would have loved that distraction.” Mirax nodded. “Besides, the collateral damage was never really that bad.”

  The Jedi Master smiled. “I think the Vors are rather particular when it comes to the issue of collateral damage.”

  “Agreed. We’ve got a landing clearance at their primary Cathedral docking bay. After Admiral Ackbar and Leia’s unfortunate accident, the Vors established a two-kilometer no-fly zone around the Cathedral so no one else will plow a fighter into it.” Mirax turned back around to look out the viewport. “Atmosphere in fifteen seconds. Buckle in if you don’t want to get bounced around.”

  “I’ll let the others know.” Luke turned and walked back up the corridor to the lounge, where Anakin and Chalco both sat. The two of them had played a game on the holotable, but ended up squabbling about the other cheating. This offended Anakin, who only partially accepted the explanation that the tables Chalco normally played on had had their code sliced so often that the only way to win was by cheating the other guy better.

  “Since you were winning and I couldn’t cheat, I figured you had to be cheating,” he’d offered.

  Luke smiled. “Strap in. We’re hitting atmosphere.”

  Anakin complied with the order, but Chalco just gripped the arms of his chair with white-knuckled hands. Luke shook his head as he walked over to a bench seat and fastened restraining straps about himself. “Chalco, you don’t have to do everything the tough way.”

  The heavy set man shrugged and almost bounced out of the seat as the Skate bucked. “I know you Jedi have power, but that’s not everything, you know. Us normal folks are capable, too.” As he spoke he jabbed a thumb in the center of his chest.

  Another jolt shook the ship, and Chalco came half up out of the chair. Luke gathered the Force to settle him back down, but discovered Anakin had already managed it. And he did it so gently that I doubt Chalco knows he’s been helped. “Please, Chalco, just strap in.”

  The man grumbled a little, but reached for the restraining straps. “Well, the ride is a bit bumpy. I mean, if you Jedi are going to strap in, can’t hurt, can it?”

  Luke and Anakin shared a smile, then the Jedi Master shook his head. “Can’t hurt at all. When we get down, Mara and I will go see the person we need to speak with. The spaceport here is not much, so I’d like you two to stay with the Skater.”

  Anakin’s expression immediately soured. “But I was hoping—”

  Luke held a hand up. “Stretch out with your feelings, Anakin. Can you feel Daeshara’cor here?”

  The youth hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No.”

  “No, indeed.”

  Chalco frowned. “You didn’t expect to find her here?”

  “Not unless something highly unusual is going on. I think she came here for information.” The Jedi Master sat as far forward as the restraining straps would allow. “We will learn what she learned, then move on. That’s when we’ll need you, Chalco.”

  “What about me?” Anakin asked.

  “You’re vital to all this, too, Anakin, th
at much I know.”

  His nephew’s expression brightened. “What am I going to be doing?”

  “I’m not certain. The Force hints at times, and hints are all I have. And the hint for right now is that you’ll be staying with the Skate.”

  “You wouldn’t be saying that because it’s easier than telling me to stay because you’re my uncle, right?”

  Luke arched an eyebrow at him. “Anakin!”

  The comm speakers in the lounge crackled for a second, then Mirax’s voice poured from them. “We are on final approach. A landspeeder is waiting for us. We’ll be on the ground in a minute.”

  Luke smiled. “And if all goes well, we’ll be off again inside an hour.”

  A temperate world with almost an equal mix of land mass and ocean, Vortex consisted primarily of vast grassy plains of blue-green grasses that whipped this way and that by the gusts of wind. The Vors themselves were a humanoid species of mammalian stock. Hollow-boned, with leathery wings that let them glide on the thermals rising from the plains, the Vors had an incredible sense of harmony within their species and with their world. This harmonic nature had inspired them to create the Cathedral of Winds.

  As the landspeeder approached it, threading between two large colonies of thatched dwellings, Luke found the Cathedral to be something at once tied to the world, yet something completely alien to it. While the Vors were clearly capable of advanced materials manipulation—since without these skills the tall crystalline spires could never have been raised—they reserved such construction for special projects. Their homes were of the world and would nourish the world, whereas the glassy towers were made to be more permanent and impressive.

  The winds fed into the Cathedral, rushing through hollows, twisting through clear tubes. Thin walls vibrated, filling the air with a ringing peal that undulated in tone. Transparent louvers connected to gears that, in turn, were connected to propellers, making the louvers rise and fall, sharpening and softening sounds. The very building seemed almost a thing alive, giving voice to thousands. And during the Concert of Winds, the Jedi Master knew, the Vors would use their bodies to shift the sounds, truly making that performance into a living symphony.

  Mirax slowed the landspeeder, then brought it to a stop, allowing Mara and Luke to disembark five hundred meters from the towering cathedral. Standing there between the two Jedi and the crystal structure was a tall, blue-skinned female. She wore a gown of midnight blue that set off her flesh color and pearlescent feathery hair. Luke had once heard the term ethereal used to describe her, and here, at the Cathedral of Winds, it seemed so appropriate. Willowy and even fragile, she seemed a phantom composed of the melody washing over him.

  As he approached, he smiled at her and was a bit dismayed to see that she did not return his smile. “Greetings, Qwi Xux.”

  She nodded. “Greetings, Master Skywalker. It has been a long time. I am sorry you came all this way. I cannot help you.”

  Mara frowned. “How can you say that?”

  The frail Omwati smiled knowingly. “I know many things, Mara Jade. I know that when, with Wedge, I helped repair the damage here I did something that was good. After leaving him, I realized that this was the only place where I found peace. I returned and begged the Vors to let me continue my work here. It is my hope that through the songs of the winds, the laments of my many victims will be given voices. Once that happens perhaps I will finally know complete peace.”

  Luke nodded solemnly. “I can understand the desire for peace.”

  Qwi sighed. “Very few do. Here I have a chance to create something of beauty which might counteract the horrors I created.”

  Luke and Mara exchanged a grim glance before Luke spoke. “I’m sorry if my appearance here reminds you of past pains. I wish you all the best in seeking this peace. If there is anything I can do to help …”

  A quick smile contorted her face for a heartbeat. “I had hoped, perhaps, that Kyp Durron might come here. I don’t know if he is haunted as I am, but I would hope he would hear the people of Carida singing here.”

  “That is a request I will relay to him.” Luke glanced down at the ground for a moment. “Kyp could use some peace.”

  Mara brushed her red-gold hair back over her shoulders. “Why is it you think we’re here?”

  “You are after the Twi’lek Jedi. She was here.” Qwi’s voice tightened. “She came to me to ask after superweapons. She knew of the third partial Death Star at the Maw. She wanted to know if there was yet one more, or another Sun Crusher, or perhaps other abominations that no one knew of save me. She noted the Emperor seldom had only one of anything produced.”

  Luke nodded. Even the first Super Star Destroyer, the Executor, had had a twin being produced at the same time. It had become the Lusankya and was given over to Ysanne Isard as her personal playground while the first one was presented to Darth Vader. I’ve always assumed there are more of his vicious little toys waiting to be discovered out there.

  Mara frowned. “So, was there a second Sun Crusher?”

  Qwi shook her head. “Not to my knowledge. The armor was a breakthrough. Some of the quantum crystalline technology was used here, to rebuild the Cathedral. Unless the Emperor had a parallel facility matching the Maw’s work, he could not have produced another. Had such a facility existed, its lethal harvest would have already been seen. As it was, the Maw produced enough terror weapons that he must not have felt a need for another facility.”

  Luke’s head came up. “There was nothing else?”

  Qwi thought for a moment. “Well, there was the Eye of Palpatine. Its mission failure caused the Emperor to support the Maw. Perhaps the Eye has a twin. Daeshara’cor seemed to think it might have.”

  “Did she ask you if you knew of plans for other things that had not yet been produced?” Luke asked.

  “Or for knowledge of scaled-down prototypes or anything else that could be used as a weapon?” Mara added.

  “She asked and I told her that all the memories from that time were gone, destroyed by Kyp Durron.”

  The Jedi Master’s eyes narrowed. “But you just said you used the Sun Crusher’s armor technology in the Cathedral. She would have picked up on a lie.”

  The woman laughed lightly, but the sound came mirthlessly. “Kyp stole the memories, but I still possess the foundation upon which all that work was built. Reviewing files, experimenting, I now know what I once knew then. I can see how I did what I did. I did not lie, so no lie was detected. Regardless, never again will I create things that maim and kill. Never.”

  Mara snorted. “Never say never, Qwi. There’s a threat out there that might require a Sun Crusher or Death Star to deal with it.”

  The blue-skinned woman shook her head. “It does not matter. I stand by what I said, no matter the price.”

  Mara’s hands curled into fists. “How can you say that? Your work could save billions.”

  “How, by killing billions?” Qwi pressed a hand to her breastbone. “You are heroes. You may have killed, but it was in battle, defending yourselves. I created weapons that shattered worlds and murdered billions in an eye blink. Innocents were vaporized. You may have felt that through the Force, but I have felt it by studying about the worlds I destroyed. I know the names, know the images, and with them I work to give those extinguished lives a voice. I strive to let those people contribute to the beauty here.”

  She sharpened her gaze. “I know it can sound insane, dwelling on such things, but someone has to. Without accepting responsibility and resolving to atone for what I did, I would leave myself open to believe that things weren’t really so bad. I would do what you suggest, I would create only silence. Death would be preferable to that.”

  Mara blinked hard. “Philosophically I understand pacifism, but to adopt that as a stance in the face of an overwhelming evil, I just …” Her fists opened and closed slowly.

  Luke rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “It is better she has made a principled stand and would defend it with her li
fe, than it is for her to become the tool of those who would use her work for ill.”

  “But, Luke, what if there is no other way to stop the Yuuzhan Vong?”

  “Then, my dear, we must question whether they are meant to be stopped, or if we have missed the other solution.” Luke gave his wife a confident smile. “I don’t like having options eliminated, but neither do I like having weapons that can destroy planets and stars being made available. I have a question for you, since you knew the Emperor. Would he have had only one ship named Eye of Palpatine, or would the Emperor have had two eyes?”

  As Mara thought, a stiff wind coaxed a high keening from the Cathedral. “If he had a second and it was employed at the same time, perhaps the same problem would have resulted in its loss.”

  Luke smiled. “That problem was a pair of Jedi.”

  “And there were plenty of pairs of Jedi to go around back then.” Mara shrugged. “It’s possible there’s another Eye out there.”

  Qwi brought her slender-fingered hands together. “It’s my hope that if there is another Eye out there, you find it before it is employed. Giving a voice to the dead is a noble pursuit, but it is one that I hope, someday, will no longer be necessary.”

  “That’s my wish, too, Qwi.” Luke sighed and set his shoulders. “I have a feeling, though, that particular day is a long way off.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Anakin watched his uncle, Mara, and Mirax race off in the landspeeder. He didn’t like being left behind, but he fought against his discomfort. Being angry is childish, and I don’t need to be childish. He was about to drop into the copilot seat and look over the Skate’s controls when the scuff of a boot on the floor turned him around.

  Just for a moment, Chalco froze like an animal trapped in a spotlight. Then he grinned and straightened up, projecting an air of confidence that almost completely masked his shock at being discovered. “I was just going out. To look around.”

  “Master Luke told us to stay here.”

 

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