Jedi Trial

by David Sherman

  “Anakin, won’t you ever learn to use proper comm procedure?” Halcyon muttered. “You know the rendezvous point. Let’s get there, fast.” He glanced over his shoulder at Anakin’s starfighter. He could just see the young Jedi through the cockpit. His airfoils were deployed. They’d be useful up to twenty thousand meters. Already Anakin’s repulsorlift engines were raising a cloud of dust around Azure Angel II, and as Halcyon watched, the machine gradually rose vertically from the ground.

  Anakin armed his blasters and proton torpedoes and engaged his IFF system. Gradually he increased his airspeed. At twenty thousand meters he retracted his airfoils and engaged his sublights to attain escape velocity. Now all the horror of the recently concluded ground combat faded away as he settled into the exhilarating world of high-speed, high-tech destruction, where pilots and machines disintegrated instantly in clean blossoms of flame, and pain and terror were endured only for milliseconds.

  He passed through the fleet without incident. A thousand kilometers beyond, he got a visual on the fighter fleet. Beyond that, not yet within human eyesight but already registering on his instruments, was the enemy.

  “I’m right on your six,” Halcyon announced.

  “General Halcyon, won’t you ever learn to use proper comm procedure?” Anakin laughed.

  “Switch to the guard channel,” Halcyon ordered. He was serious now, and he was right to be—Anakin’s instruments showed hundreds of blips fast approaching, the enemy fighter screen. They were now in among their own fighter fleet ships. The plan agreed upon in advance was that an element of fighters led by Halcyon would head for the heart of the enemy fleet. The rest of the fighter arm would run interference. If the enemy chose to employ the same tactic, then a lot would depend on whose pilots were better. There was no doubt in Halcyon’s mind whose were.

  “This is Halcyon Six. Follow me!” A hundred other fighters peeled off from the formation and followed him.

  The enemy commander chose to use his fighters to engage the Republic craft one-on-one.

  Anakin flashed through the fighters, guns blazing. He would save his missiles for the capital ships that lay just ahead. The enemy fighters zooming at him appeared as tiny points of light, which were their blaster cannons firing. As good as he was, Halcyon could barely keep up with the young Jedi pilot, and instead of leading the attack formation, in essence he became Anakin’s wingmate.

  In seconds they were through the enemy fighter screen and in among the larger ships. Now it was everyone for him- or herself as each pilot selected a target and attacked. Anakin concentrated on a destroyer looming just off his starboard wing. Its outline seemed blurred and indistinct. He couldn’t determine if it really was a destroyer or a frigate, because it was using a cloaking device that distorted its image. He flashed beneath the ship as its ion guns reached deadly fingers out at him, but he was moving too fast—almost three thousand kilometers per hour—for even a warship’s target acquisition system to get a bearing and range in time to hit him. He turned and approached the vessel from the stern and, as he started into a huge looping maneuver, fired a proton torpedo into its engines.

  The death of the destroyer would have been a beautiful sight to behold if Anakin had stayed around to witness it. First a bright flash as the missile detonated; then the vessel appeared to shudder. Next, fingers of fire flashed forward from her stern, causing the aft part of the ship to blaze in a brilliant blue light. In the airless, soundless depths of space, no ear heard the mighty ship’s death knell as her propulsion system detonated in a brilliant flash of intense white light. It lasted only a fraction of a second and then, where the ship had been, were only myriad glowing orange dots of light, like a swarm of luminescent insects in the night, the melting fragments of her structure producing their own oxygen as they floated in space. The display lasted mere seconds, and then there was nothing but dead debris.

  Halcyon witnessed Anakin’s attack, but then lost him in the melee. Other pilots had not been so successful, though some had. There were now conspicuous gaps in the enemy’s formation. They had done what they came for. “This is Halcyon Six, break off the fight. I repeat, break off.”

  Anakin heard the command, but now the Force was upon him again. He knew what he had to do. Ahead floated a massive vessel. The cloaking device the enemy was using could not obscure it entirely, and he knew it had to be the Separatist flagship. He roared straight in at what he assumed was the ship’s bridge but, in the last fraction of a second before colliding, zoomed past it at five thousand kilometers per hour. This time the target was so huge that the extra split second it took him to pass her gave her gunnery system the opportunity to acquire him as a target. It was fortunate that the shot that got him was from a blaster cannon. Azure Angel II ‘s armor deflected most of the destructive force of the shot, but the damage was severe. “I’m hit,” he announced calmly.

  “How bad?” Halcyon asked.

  “Get out of here” was all Anakin said in reply.

  “Anakin!”

  “Get out of here,” Anakin repeated.

  Halcyon realized that Anakin was about to put another shot up this ship’s spout. “Don’t do it—you’ll go up with her.”

  “Say hello to the missus for me.” Anakin’s voice was calm, well measured—even, Nejaa thought afterward, tinged with a slight flavor of wry humor.

  “No, Anakin, no!”

  The enormous blast from the destruction of the Separatist flagship decisively tilted the odds toward the Republic forces by engulfing many of the enemy’s ships unlucky enough to be in the vicinity. It also engulfed Anakin Skywalker.

  * * *

  Chapter 30

  The dust had hardly settled from Halcyon’s landing before Zozridor Slayke and the entire army staff were running toward him, before even the maintenance droids had trundled out to service the craft. Halcyon popped the canopy and breathed the hot, dry air of Praesitlyn. He ran a hand across his face, rubbing away dry crystals of salt left behind from his perspiration— and his tears. He felt drained, not so much physically as emotionally.

  Slayke and another officer climbed up on the wing and reached helping hands into the cockpit. Halcyon needed the assistance to get out.

  “Brilliant! Wonderful. The enemy fleet is in disorder and withdrawing. Your troops are dismantling the droids. A complete victory. Sir, I never thought I’d live to see such a stunning success.” Slayke pounded Halcyon on the back with one hand as he steadied him with the other. Dozens of officers and soldiers clustered around, all offering their hands and words of congratulation. Where scarcely minutes earlier the fate of the entire campaign had hung precariously in the balance, now it had been decided in their favor, and before them stood the man responsible for it.

  “Not me, it was Anakin,” Halcyon croaked. He was surprised at the sound of his voice, surprised that he was able to speak at all. He held up a hand to silence the crowd. “Commander Skywalker, at the cost of his own life, destroyed the enemy flagship and turned the tide for us. And it was Anakin who captured the brains behind the droid army.” He paused and shook his head. “You and me, Captain, compared to him, we’re just a couple of old, used-up dishrags in this business of war.”

  The crowd had gone still. “I knew the lad had it in him,” Slayke said, breaking the silence.

  The maintenance droids arrived, humming and clanking, hesitating to approach the fighter while all the living beings were standing in the vicinity.

  “Someone shut those things down,” Slayke growled. “They’re always getting in a man’s way.” He put an arm around Halcyon’s shoulders and gently led him through the crowd that closed in behind them as they walked slowly back toward the command post. “How would you like Plooriod Bodkin back, General?” Slayke asked.

  Halcyon stopped and pretended to think for a moment. “No, Captain, you earned her—maybe not square, but fair. She’s in good hands now.” He put his own arm around Slayke’s shoulders. They continued toward the bunker.

  �
�Could you tell us what happened?” Slayke asked.

  Halcyon stopped. “Gather ‘round,” he told the crowd. He had regained his composure now. “What that young Jedi did shall live in the annals of the Jedi for-ever.” His voice was normal again. He thought, I’ll seek out Padme and tell her how her husband died. He’d have time to prepare himself for that. It was then that he noticed Odie standing with Erk and the two guards. Her cheeks, too, were tear-stained. “You, come closer,” he said, gesturing to the quartet who’d been standing at the back of the crowd.

  Raders pointed to himself. “Me?”

  Halcyon smiled and nodded. “Yes, you four. They were with him, up there,” he informed the officers and nodded at the mesa where Tonith’s forces had made their last stand. “You tell us about that”—he gestured at the officers standing around—“and I’ll tell what happened.”

  “Sir,” Odie began, “he was a one-man army.” The news of Anakin’s death had hit her hard. It was difficult not to cry while she related her part of the tale.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it, sir,” Vick volunteered. He filled them in as best he could. “He really laid them low. Nothing could touch him. Just like you, sir, on the Ranger, only—only—he wasted a lot more droids!” He grinned apologetically at Halcyon.

  “What’s your name, son?” Slayke asked.

  “I’m Private Slane Vick, sir, and this here is my corporal, Ram Raders.”

  “Well,” Halcyon began, “let’s get under cover now. We’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do.” He was feeling more himself again. The hurt deep inside his heart still throbbed painfully, but his duty was paramount, and the emotional scars of war would heal in their own time. They resumed walking back to the bunker.

  “Someone’s coming in for a landing,” someone an-nounced. He looked toward the horizon, shading his eyes with a hand. “An aircraft is coming in, sir,” he reported. “It looks like a Delta-Seven Aethersprite.”

  They all looked up at the sky. “Yes, it’s a Delta-Seven,” Halcyon said. As it got bigger and bigger coming in for a landing, he stiffened. It couldn’t be! “Do you recognize that starfighter?” He turned to Slayke.

  Slayke shrugged. “Looks pretty beat up to me. One of yours from the fleet, I suppose.”

  Halcyon’s fatigue had vanished. He began to run toward where the fighter was preparing to land. The others stared after him in amazement and then slowly, first by ones and twos, and then as a crowd, followed him. As soon as the group had moved away from Halcyon’s fighter, the droids trundled in and began servicing the craft.

  The incoming Delta-7 hovered in its vertical mode and gradually settled down, raising a thick cloud of dust that billowed out to engulf the bystanders. The canopy was pitted and scorched so they couldn’t see the pilot; the fuselage was blackened, and most of the paint so badly scored it was hard to determine the original colors. The two blaster cannons on the starboard side of the craft were missing entirely.

  “It’s him,” Halcyon whispered, gripping Slayke by an arm. “It’s him!” He pointed at the partially destroyed Podracer symbol just aft of the cockpit. “It’s Anakin! How could this be!” He broke into laughter and began thumping Slayke on the back.

  Slayke looked at Halcyon as if he’d lost his mind. “But—you told us—”

  “No, no! I was wrong. This is Anakin’s Azure

  Angel II. I’d know it anywhere.“ He let go of Slayke’s arm, rushed forward, and climbed onto the ship’s airfoil. He banged mightily on the cockpit canopy. ”Anakin! Anakin!“ he shouted. Faintly, the officers standing nearby could hear someone pounding from inside the craft. ”Get a service droid up here right away,“ Halcyon shouted. ”The canopy is fused shut. Come on, get one of those things up here!“ He gestured helplessly at Slayke, who grinned and stepped forward to lend a hand.

  A maintenance droid dutifully rolled up, but it was only programmed to work on undercarriages and armaments. “Someone in maintenance has got to tell them to work on the canopy first, otherwise they’re programmed to service these things in a certain order,” Halcyon said. “Does anybody have a prybar?”

  Frustrated, he drew his lightsaber. “Lean as far forward as you can,” he shouted at the pilot, and began cutting away the canopy. When they could see the pilot’s head through the gap, Slayke put a pair of gloves, waved Halcyon away, and straddled the canopy.

  “I knew sooner or later I could do something useful around here,” he said. He made a show of spitting into his palms, grinned fiercely at Halcyon, grasped the canopy with both hands, and began to pull. At first nothing happened. Slayke’s muscles bulged visibly beneath his tunic and his face turned a deep red; veins stood out in his neck and a low growl emerged from deep inside his chest. A droid with an extensible body rolled up, raised itself to the level of the cockpit, and said, “May I be of service, sir?”

  “Get lost,” Slayke grunted, and the next instant the canopy popped off.

  The pilot removed his helmet and grinned up at the two commanders looming over him. “Hi, Master Halcyon, Captain Slayke,” Anakin said, extending a hand. “Give me a lift out of here, would you?”

  “Would you mind telling us how you did that?” Halcyon asked.

  They sat in the command post, Anakin with his legs spread out before him and a huge, almost empty container of water at one elbow. He ran a grimy hand through his hair. “Well, you know I always tinker with machines. I rigged Azure Angel II to give her a hyperspace capability—just something I cooked up.” He shrugged. “At the last instant, just before the missile detonated, I engaged the drive and jumped free.” He snapped his fingers. “Piece of cake.”

  “Sir,” an officer asked, “just how did you know when to disengage?”

  Anakin stood up, drained the last of the water, and wiped the drops from his lips with the back of his hand. “The same way I always knew what the ground was like before I could see it when I was Podracing.” He shrugged. “It must be the Force.”

  “Sir?” Erk stepped out of the circle surrounding Anakin. Odie came up to stand beside him. “We’d like to ask you for a favor, sir.”

  “I’ll grant you two any wish I have it in my power to grant,” Anakin replied. “You name it!”

  “Well, sir, I need a wingmate. I need someone I can rely on. You know how it is, zooming through the combats of life. A man can do just so much by himself and he needs someone to watch his six. You see—”

  “Commander Skywalker,” Odie interrupted, “would you marry us?”

  * * *

  EPILOGUE

  “… and thus by the power invested in me as an officer of the Grand Army of the Republic, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Anakin leaned forward and kissed Odie lightly on the cheek. The aroma of her freshly washed hair brought back memories—Padme— and his heart raced with joy. Soon he would be reunited with his own wife. Already, the horrors of the Praesitlyn campaign and his role in them were receding. “I wish you both long lives and much happiness,” he told the couple. His smile was huge and genuine. “Every cloud has its silver lining,” he told them, “and today that’s you two.”

  Halcyon stepped forward and offered his best wishes. Anakin exchanged glances with him and smiled again. How ironic that he, who had married secretly and against the rules of the Jedi Order, had been called upon to perform a legitimate public marriage rite. Halcyon smiled back and nodded. And Halcyon, also clandestinely wed, and with a child by that marriage, as well!

  “Commander,” Slayke said, offering his hand, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you. First you win a war single-handed, and then you perform a marriage ceremony.”

  “Well, I had help, Captain—with the battles, that is.”

  “Commander Skywalker, I think you’re someone who’s going to change a lot of things in this galaxy, mark my words. I’m going to keep an eye on you, son.” They shook warmly.

  “Ah, Captain Slayke, I was just doing my duty.” But Anakin wondered what assignment the Jedi Council
would give him next and found himself looking forward to it.

  “We shall invest him with his Jedi Knighthood when he returns,” Mace Windu said.

  Yoda nodded. “From Praesitlyn very satisfying the initial reports are; Jedi Knighthood he has earned.” He blinked his huge eyes. “In the Force great disturbances there were. Sensed them, did you, my old friend?”

  “I did. Evidently Anakin called upon it more than once, but the fighting was desperate. We were right to send these two to command the expedition.”

  Yoda nodded again but said nothing. There was— something—he was missing in all of this, like the uninvited guest at a wedding feast, mysterious and just beyond his grasp. He would have to think about it. But for now, young Anakin was a sharp new tool in the service of the Jedi Order. Yoda was looking forward to his investiture.

  Count Dooku’s Master, Darth Sidious, considered. His minions on Praesitlyn had been defeated, as he’d expected they would be, and the losses had been tremendous. But he had gained something much more valuable than military victory. He, too, had sensed the disturbance in the Force that was troubling Yoda—it was not the first time recently either.

  He had watched young Skywalker for some time and was now convinced he had been right about the boy. He would become very useful in the future.

  Darth Sidious folded his hands in contentment and smiled grimly.

  A Star Wars mystery revealed at last!

  Turn the page for a preview of the long-awaited

  Star Wars:

  Outbound Flight

  by Timothy Zahn

  Available from Del Rey Books October 25, 2005

  The room was compactly furnished, containing a three-tier bunk bed against one wall and a fold-down table and bench seats on the other. Beside the bunk bed were three large drawers built into the wall, while to the right was a door leading into what seemed to be a compact refresher station.

  “What do you think he’s going to do with us?” Maris murmured, looking around.