Vortex: Star Wars (Fate of the Jedi) (Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi)

by Troy Denning

  Vestara exhaled hard, then pulled a pair of familiar-looking lightsabers from her robe pockets and faced the Skywalkers.

  “You couldn’t have just knocked me over the head?” She passed the weapons back to their rightful owners, then narrowed her eyes at Ben. “And if you think I did any of that for you, think again. It’s the last time I ever save a Jedi.”

  Ben and his father and Vestara were still fifty meters from the Shadow when dazed Sith began to drift back into the village circle. With battered faces and torn robes, most of them looked as if they had been in a cantina brawl rather than fleeing illusory ghosts. But there were a few serious injuries, compound fractures and caved-in faces typical of high-impact collisions or long falls. To a being, they had the unfocused, saucer-eyed gazes of trauma victims, and they were so wary and jumpy that it was not unusual to hear the crackle of crossing lightsabers whenever two of them encountered each other unexpectedly.

  “This is bad,” Vestara said. “They’re coming to their senses.”

  “Just act casual,” Ben said. “We’ll be fine, as long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves.”

  “That’s right,” Luke agreed. He had one hand resting on Ben’s shoulder, steadying himself. “They don’t realize Taalon is dead yet, so they have no reason to think anything is out of the ordinary here.”

  There was a calm confidence in Luke’s voice that suggested he was experiencing the same waves of reassurance that kept rolling over Ben. Someone they knew was using the Force to encourage them, trying to tell them that help was on the way. The touch was not familiar enough for Ben to recognize, though he suspected his father knew exactly who was reaching out to them—and how far away they were. Ben just hoped it wasn’t another Fallanassi illusion.

  Luke’s knee gave way again, and Ben sucked air through his teeth as his father’s hand clamped down on his semi-diced shoulder. But he didn’t complain—he was far too grateful to have a father there to hold on to him.

  “Just keep walking,” Luke urged. “We’re almost there.”

  “Almost is the problem,” Vestara replied. Nearly two dozen Sith had entered the circle now, and a few dazed eyes were beginning to swing in the Skywalkers’ direction. “They’re never going to let us board without Taalon or my father. It might be better to duck out of sight and hope they get distracted when they find Lord Taalon’s body.”

  “We can’t wait,” Luke said. He pointed his chin toward the far corner of the island, where Ship’s red-veined globe was just starting to climb for the sky. “Abeloth is leaving—that’s why the Fallanassi have stopped killing intruders.”

  Vestara frowned. “So?”

  “So, we still have a chance of tracking her,” Luke replied.

  “And that’s a good thing?” Vestara ran an appraising eye over both Skywalkers, then said, “You two are a long way from fighting form, and if you think I’m going after her alone—”

  “Hardly,” Luke interrupted. The trio had closed to within thirty meters of the Shadow, but a lean Keshiri Sith with deep purple eyes and alabaster hair was starting in their direction—and motioning for others to follow. “We just have to finish this.”

  Vestara looked at him as though he were crazy. “Why?” she asked. “Say you do manage kill Abeloth … again. So what?”

  “Dad, Vestara kind of has a point about that,” Ben said. He could think of only one reason a badly wounded Abeloth would flee her Fallanassi protectors, and it wasn’t because she expected the Skywalkers to return to fighting shape before she did. She had to be worried about fighting someone else—maybe a whole bunch of someone elses. “Killing Abeloth doesn’t accomplish much.”

  “It keeps her weak,” Luke countered. “And that protects the Shelter Jedi.”

  The observation struck Ben like a blaster bolt. Like his father and everyone else, Ben had attributed the Jedi Knights’ recovery to the death of Abeloth’s first body. But after discovering she was still alive, it had never occurred to him to ask why those Jedi were still sane. The answer, of course, was probably just what his father had suggested—after the destruction of her first body, she had been too weak to reach out to the Shelter Jedi. But if she ever regained her strength, she would certainly do so again—especially if she could use them against the Order.

  As of now, the Skywalkers were the only ones in position to track her. His father had shed more than enough blood to use a Dathomiri blood trail against Abeloth. But if that didn’t work, they would have to track her by analyzing her hyperspace jumps—and to do that, they needed to be close enough to record them.

  Chest filling with pride at his father’s endurance and foresight, Ben glanced over and asked, “We’re going to be doing this for a while, aren’t we?”

  Luke smiled and nodded. “I’m afraid so, son.” He turned to Vestara. “Are you up to this? You could still take your chances with the friends-and-family plan.”

  Vestara’s brow rose. “You’d let me remain with them?”

  “Whatever your reasons, you saved Ben’s life in there,” Luke replied. “I think I can give you a break … just this once.”

  Vestara considered the offer for nearly a dozen steps, then tipped her head and looked over at Luke. “Is this a test, Master Skywalker?”

  Ben was asking himself the same question, because the last thing his father would want was Vestara repeating what she had overheard about the Jedi queen. Though, now that he thought about it, Abeloth hadn’t revealed anything Taalon hadn’t known already—she’d merely confirmed that a Jedi queen was destined to claim a throne the Sith coveted themselves.

  “If I accept your offer of release,” Vestara continued, “how quickly will I find myself dead?”

  Luke chuckled. “That’s not my style,” he said. “You’re free to stay behind, if you want to take your chances with the Sith. But if you come with us, it can’t be as a prisoner. We’re going to have enough trouble without worrying about you. So if you stay with us, it needs to be because you want to.”

  Ben began to wonder if his father might have suffered a concussion during the fight. “Uh, Dad, you know it wasn’t us she was trying to save when she killed Taalon, right?” he asked. “She was just trying to keep Abeloth from making him her tentacle cleaner—then using him to take control of the Sith.”

  “That’s not a bad thing, Ben.” As Luke spoke, he kept his gaze on Vestara. “And neither was sparing the galaxy another of Abeloth’s kind.”

  As Luke spoke, the purple-eyed Keshiri started across the circle on an interception vector, with a dozen more Sith following close behind. Vestara watched them for a moment, then lowered her chin.

  “Thank you for giving me a choice, Master Skywalker.” Her voice was so soft that Ben could barely hear it. “But killing so far above my station will make me a target for many years—if I survive the initial retaliations. I think I’m better off with you than with my own people.”

  Ben’s heart began to dance a little bit—he didn’t trust Vestara, but he was beginning to think he might have a real chance of turning her to the light side.

  “So you’re still coming with us?” he asked, grinning.

  Vestara sighed in exasperation. “It doesn’t mean I have fallen for you, Ben Skywalker.” Giving him no chance to reply, she nodded at the approaching band. “And now, perhaps the time has come to make a run for the Shadow.”

  Before Ben could remind her of his father’s injured leg, Luke said, “We’re fine. Running will start a fight, and a fight will cost us even more time.”

  “You Jedi, are you all mad?” Vestara whispered.

  Ben was about to side with her—until he noticed the speaker bud in the Keshiri’s ear. The Sith was speaking into a throat mike as he walked and casting uneasy glances toward the sky, and the Force was fairly sizzling with his panic.

  “Master Skywalker, running is our only chance,” Vestara pressed. “We’re outnumbered—badly.”

  “We’re not.” Ben glanced skyward. He didn’t see any sign
of help yet, but he knew he wouldn’t—not until the moment it arrived. “Trust me on that.”

  “Trust you?” Vestara retorted. “You are mad.”

  Before Ben could explain, the band of Sith spread across their path. The purple-eyed leader stepped forward and glared down at Vestara. “I need to speak to High Lord Taalon. Where is he?”

  Vestara shrugged. “I am sorry, Master Vhool, I don’t—”

  “You’ll find Lord Taalon in the hall,” Luke interrupted, waving an arm toward the door behind them. “Along with Gavar Khai. We had quite a fight with Abeloth in there.”

  The Keshiri’s eyes widened. “Is Lord Taalon well?”

  “About as well as can be expected, considering,” Ben supplied. He gestured toward the Shadow. “It’s my dad and me who need the medbay. Do you mind?”

  “That will have to wait.” The Keshiri—Master Vhool—turned to Vestara. “You can operate their vessel?”

  Vestara’s brow shot up. “I will need their help to get inside.”

  Ben could see by the way Vhool’s eyes narrowed that the last thing he wanted was the two Jedi within earshot of a comm station—which only made sense, if what Ben suspected was true: that help was on its way.

  “It’s not that hard, Vestara,” Ben said. He reached out to the Shadow, using the Force to release the lock hidden inside the boarding hatch. “Just palm the control pad. It’ll open.”

  Vhool studied Ben for a moment, then said, “Your cooperation has just saved your life, Jedi.”

  Ben shrugged. “Hey, we’re still on the same side in this thing,” he said. “Aren’t we?”

  “Of course.” Vhool’s tone was cool, but Ben could tell that his act had bought them a little time. The Sith turned back to Vestara. “Prepare the craft for departure. We will be leaving as soon as I return with your father and High Lord Taalon.”

  Vestara could not keep her eyes from widening, but her tone remained cool. “As you command, Master Vhool.” She glanced back at Ben. “Is there anything I should know about cold-firing procedures?”

  “Just one thing.” Ben grinned. “You wouldn’t want to leave without us.”

  Vestara suppressed a smile that Ben couldn’t read, then nodded curtly at Vhool. “That will depend on the wishes of High Lord Taalon, of course.”

  She hurried ahead to the Shadow and palmed the control pad. As the hatch opened, Vhool turned back to Luke. “You and your son will await High Lord Taalon’s pleasure here.”

  He sent three of his escorts to round up the rest of the Sith on the island, then ordered the others to wait with Ben and Luke.

  “Treat them as allies as long as they behave like allies,” he said. “But if they do anything suspicious—”

  “Why would we do that?” Luke interrupted. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing that concerns you.” Vhool could not prevent his eyes from drifting skyward as he spoke. “We Sith are merely cautious by nature.”

  The Keshiri turned toward the gathering hall, and a moment later the Shadow’s repulsorlift engines whined to life. Ben half expected to see the star yacht rising off its struts as Vestara made her escape alone.

  Instead a hatch cover beneath the nose slid open. Several of the Sith guarding Luke and Ben turned toward the sound, then scowled in confusion when a retractable blaster cannon dropped from the opening.

  “Whoops—she did it again.” Ben rolled his eyes and tried to sound casual. “Wrong button.”

  This seemed to reassure the Sith—until a flash brightened the sky. Ben glanced up to find a silver globe of radiance almost directly overhead—then a second and a third globe appeared, all contracting with the distinctive reverse flare of a detonating proton torpedo. A flurry of secondary explosions followed, filling a section of sky with roiling blossoms of fire. Smoke trails and flashing bolts of color began to spiral down through the atmosphere, pieces of disintegrating starships and starfighters bringing their dogfights dirtside.

  The SteathXs had arrived—and not a moment too soon.

  Ben glanced over at his father, looking for the cue that said it was time to grab for his lightsaber. But Luke Skywalker’s eyes were fixed on the skies, looking worried and sad and weary. Ben thought for a moment that the battle was going poorly for the Jedi, that the Grand Master was sensing the pain and fear of his dying Jedi Knights.

  Then another series of flashes erupted, a little off to their right, and Ben realized his father wasn’t looking toward the battle at all. He was concentrating on their quarry, no doubt trying to get a fix on Abeloth and Ship—and some idea of where they would be headed. Two StealthXs appeared in the sky, swooping downward in pursuit of half a dozen outdated Javelins. Cannon bolts began to stream from the StealthXs, and the first two Javelins were plummeting seaward when an alarmed voice cried out from the gathering hall.

  “Stop Vestara Khai!” Vhool’s boots began to pound across the circle toward the Shadow. “She killed—”

  Ben did not hear the rest of the accusation. He felt Vestara touching him through the Force, and he suddenly had a strong urge to duck. Pulling his father along, he dived for the ground and pressed himself as flat as possible. A heartbeat later a volley of cannon bolts screeched past, barely centimeters above his back, and filled the air with a spray of blood and charred Sith flesh.

  By the time the cannon fire stopped a second later, both Skywalkers had their lightsabers in hand. Luke sprang up first, igniting his blade and crossing the last fifty meters to the Shadow in a series of one-legged Force bounds. Ben was a step behind, covering their backs and trying not to look as he passed over the charred remains of their guards.

  The Shadow was already rising off her struts when they jumped onto the boarding ramp. Ben had to use the Force to stick himself to its surface as Vestara swung the vessel around and streaked away from the island. His father took him by the arm and pulled him the rest of the way aboard, then let out a sigh of relief and hit the control pad to seal the hatch.

  “That’s twice,” Luke observed.

  Ben nodded, knowing that his father was referring to the number of times Vestara had saved their lives, then smiled. “She can deny it all she likes,” he said. “But she’s absolutely fallen for me.”

  Before Luke could object, Vestara’s voice came over the intercom.

  “How about a little help up here?” she said. “I don’t know the passcodes—and there’s some noob on the comm who wants to talk to Master Skywalker now.”

  “On our way,” Luke replied.

  He started to wag a cautionary finger at Ben, then simply sighed and led the way forward.

  They reached the flight deck just as the Shadow was slipping free of the atmosphere. Space to their starboard was laced with the colored streaks and blossoming fireballs of a starship battle. A quick glance at the copilot’s tactical display revealed that the Jedi had the fight well in hand; half a dozen Sith frigates were already blinking red for DISABLED, and the rest were turning to withdraw. To port, silhouetted against the silvery glow of the moon Drewwa, was the bright red wedge of an old Imperial II Star Destroyer.

  “Stang!” Ben gasped. “That looks like the Errant Venture!”

  “It is,” Vestara confirmed. “And he’s threatening to blast us back to atoms unless I put your father on the comm now.”

  Vestara thumbed a toggle on the control yoke, and the familiar voice of Lando Calrissian came over the cockpit speakers.

  “Luke, old buddy, that had better be you,” he said. “Booster is firing up his turbolaser batteries.”

  “It’s me.” Luke slipped into the copilot’s seat and transmitted an authentication code, then asked, “What in the blazes are you doing here?”

  “Hosting a sabacc tournament,” Lando replied. “And when you come aboard, you’re not going to believe who’s winning.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to tell us now.” Luke motioned Ben toward the navigator’s seat, then added in a meaningful tone, “Abeloth’s still out there, and we have
to stay on her trail.”

  “Are you spacesick?”

  As Lando spoke, Ben slipped into the navigator’s seat and brought up the tactical display, then initiated a search for Ship’s profile.

  “From the intercepts we’ve been hearing, you’ve had a rough few weeks,” Lando continued. “It sounds like you both need some quality time in a bacta tank.”

  “We do,” Luke said. “But we can’t lose Abeloth, and right now that means I have to stay on her trail. She’s been trying to recruit Force-users to guard her, and if that happens …”

  Luke let the statement trail off, and Lando filled in the rest. “Right … she’ll make the Yuuzhan Vong look like a bunch of second-rate party crashers. But you’ve got backup now. Stay in touch, and we’ll catch up.”

  “Thanks,” Luke said.

  Ship’s designator code appeared on the tactical display. It was just swinging around the far side of Almania. As soon as Ship escaped the planet’s gravity well, it would jump to hyperspace. Ben leaned across the flight deck and pointed at his father’s tactical display.

  “Listen, we’ve got a fix on Ship,” Luke said. “We’re going to need to cut this short. You’ve got about thirty seconds to fill me in.”

  “Copy,” Lando said. “There are a couple of things you should know. First, the Horn kids are on their way back to the Temple.”

  Luke’s brow rose. “Daala released them?”

  “Not exactly,” Lando replied. “Han and Leia gave her a little help. Second, Kenth Hamner is dead.”

  The last news struck Ben like a stun bolt, but Luke merely closed his eyes and nodded. “I sensed something like that.”

  “I don’t want to go into it over the comm.”

  “That’s fine,” Luke said. “I’ll find out later. Can I assume that we’re using the Errant Venture as a StealthX mother ship because … Daala isn’t cooperating?”

  “You could say that,” Lando replied. “In fact, you could shout it.”