Champions of the Force

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Champions of the Force Page 18

by Kevin J. Anderson


  At the edge of a clearing, with tall grasses stroking against each other, Master Skywalker came to a halt. Kyp stopped beside him to see two ferocious — looking predators, iridescent in scales of pale purple and mottled green for

  camouflage in the thick vegetation. They looked like hunting cats crossbred with large reptiles: their shoulders were square, their forearms as powerful as heavy pistons. They had three eyes across their boxy faces, yellow and slitted, unblinking as they stared at the intruders.

  Master Skywalker gazed back at them in silence. The breeze stopped. The predators growled, opening their mouths to expose scimitar fangs, and let out a purring howl before they melted back into the jungle.

  "Let's continue," Master Skywalker said, and walked across the clearing.

  "But where are we going?" Kyp asked.

  "You'll see soon enough."

  Unable to bear his feelings of isolation and loneliness, Kyp tried to keep the Jedi teacher talking. "Master Skywalker, what if I fail to distinguish between the dark side and the light side? I'm afraid that any power I use now might also lead me down the path of destruction."

  A feathery — winged moth flitted in front of them, seeking nectar from the bright flowers that blossomed among the creeping vines. Kyp watched the moth's flight until suddenly, from four different directions, sapphire — winged piranha beetles zoomed in to strike, ripping the moth's wings to shreds. The moth fluttered and struggled, but the piranha beetles devoured it before it could even fall to the ground. The beetles buzzed so close to Kyp's face that he

  could see their saw — toothed mandibles ready to tear flesh to shreds; but the beetles ratcheted away to seek other prey.

  "The dark side is easier, faster, more seductive," Luke said. "But you can identify it by your own emotions. If you use it for enlightenment to help others, it may be from the light side. But if you use it for your own advancement, out of anger or revenge, then the power is tainted. Don't use it. You will know when you are calm, passive."

  Kyp listened and knew that he had done everything wrong. Exar Kun had given him false information. The Jedi Master turned to him; his face looked haggard with the weight on his shoulders. "Do you understand?" Master Skywalker asked.

  "Yes," Kyp answered.

  "Good." Master Skywalker parted the branches on the other side of the clearing to expose a sight that made Kyp stop cold in his tracks. They had come from a different direction, but Kyp could never forget the site itself. Fragments of burning ice trickled down his spine.

  "I feel cold," he said. "I don't want to go back there."

  They stepped out to where the vegetation dropped off at the edge of a glassy — smooth lake, a circular reflecting pond where the water looked clear and colorless and reflected the cloudless skies above like a pool of quicksilver.

  In the center of the pond sat an island of volcanic rock on which perched a sharply angled split pyramid made of obsidian. Two halves of the steep pyramid had been spread apart to bracket the polished black statue, a towering colossus of a man with flowing hair, bulky uniform, and a long black cape. Kyp knew the image all too well.

  Exar Kun in life.

  Inside that temple Kyp had received his initiation into the Sith teachings, while Dorsk 81 had lain in an unnatural coma against the wall. The spirit of Exar Kun had meant to destroy the cloned Jedi student on a whim, as a gesture of power, but Kyp had stopped him, insisting instead that the Sith Lord teach him everything. He had seen things that still left yammering nightmares in the depths of his mind.

  "The dark side is strong in that place," Kyp said. "I can't go in there."

  Master Skywalker said, "In your fear lies caution, and in that caution lies wisdom and strength." He squatted on a comfortable rock at the edge of the crystalline lake. He shaded his eyes against the light reflecting from the surface of the pool.

  "I will wait here," Master Skywalker said, "but you must go inside."

  Kyp swallowed, terror and revulsion rising within him. This black temple symbolized everything that had rotted his core, everything that had led him astray, all the mistakes he had made. The dark lies and goading of Exar Kun had caused Kyp to kill his own brother, to threaten the life of his friend Han Solo, to strike down his Jedi teacher.

  Another shiver passed through him. Perhaps this was his punishment.

  "What will I find in there?" Kyp asked.

  "Ask no more questions," Master Skywalker said. "I can give you no answers. You must choose whether to carry your weapon with you." He nodded toward the lightsaber handle clipped to Kyp's waist. "You will have only what you bring with you."

  Kyp touched the ridged handle of the lightsaber, afraid to turn it on. Did Master Skywalker want him to leave it behind or take it? Kyp hesitated. Better to have the weapon and not use it, he decided, than to need it and be without.

  Trembling, Kyp went to the water's edge. He looked down and observed the tall columns of stone that stopped just beneath the surface of the water, providing submerged stepping stones.

  Tentatively, he set one foot on the first stone. The water rippled around his foot. He drew a deep breath, raised his head high, and fought back the echoing voices in his head. He had to face this, whatever it was. He did not look

  back at Master Skywalker.

  He crossed the water and climbed onto the lichen — encrusted lava rocks of the island, walking the narrow path that led to the triangular entrance of the temple.

  Beneath the towering statue of Exar Kun, the

  black opening glittered with implanted Corusca

  gems. Incised runes and hieroglyphics

  broke the polished brightness of the obsidian. Kyp

  stared at the writings, finding that he could summon

  some of their meaning back to him; but he

  shook his head to clear the words from his thoughts.

  The temple seemed to breathe a cool air

  current that seeped in and out of the enclosed space.

  Kyp did not know what he would find inside. His

  body stiffened with anticipation. He looked around,

  refusing to call out. Kyp took one step into the

  doorway and looked up at the dour chiseled

  face of the long — dead Sith Lord. Then he entered

  the temple chamber.

  The walls glittered with an inner light that had

  been trapped within the volcanic glass.

  Tracings of frost spiraled in a frozen dance

  up and down the walls. In the far corner a

  cistern dripped, filled with chilled water.

  He waited.

  Suddenly Kyp's stomach wrenched. His skin

  crawled. He blinked as his vision blurred. The

  air around him grew grainy as if the light itself

  had splintered inside the temple.

  He tried to turn, but found himself moving

  sluggishly as if the air resisted him,

  solidifying around him. Everything flickered.

  Kyp staggered deeper into the temple, trying

  to move quickly, but his body would not respond with its

  customary speed.

  A shadow rose from the black wall, an

  ominous form, human — shaped. It gained power,

  growing as Kyp fed it with his fear. The figure

  rose higher, oozing out of the cracks, out of a

  blackness from beyond time, a featureless silhouette

  that nevertheless seemed familiar to Kyp.

  "You're dead," Kyp said, attempting to sound

  angry and defiant, but his voice was uncertain.

  "Yes," the oddly familiar voice spoke from

  within the shadows. "But still I live within you. Only

  you, Kyp, can make my memory strong."

  "No, I'll destroy you," Kyp said. In his

  hand he felt the black power crackling, the

  ebony lightning he had used to strike Master

  Skywalker: the power
of fanged serpents, the dark

  teachings of the Sith. How ironic it would be to use

  Exar Kun's own power against him! The energy

  grew stronger, begging to be unleashed, demanding that

  he give himself over to it so he could eradicate the

  black shadow for all time.

  But Kyp forced himself to stop. He felt his

  heart pounding, his blood singing in his ears, his anger

  taking control — and he knew that was wrong. He

  took deep breaths. He calmed himself. This was not

  the way.

  The black Sith power faded from his fingertips.

  The shadow waited; but still Kyp forced his power

  back, smothered his anger. Anger was exactly what

  Exar Kun would want. Kyp could not give in to it

  now.

  Instead he reached for the lightsaber at his hip,

  pulled it free, and flicked on the power

  button. The violet — white blade shone in an

  arc of cleansing electricity, purest light.

  The shadow hovered, as if waiting to do battle

  with him, waiting for Kyp to make the first move. It

  lifted its nebulous arms, blacker than anything

  Kyp had seen before. Kyp raised Gantoris's

  lightsaber to strike, proud of what he was about

  to do. He would use a Jedi weapon instead — a

  weapon of light to strike the darkness.

  He made ready to swing. The shadow hung

  poised, as if stunned — and Kyp halted again.

  He could not strike out, not even with a lightsaber.

  If he attacked Exar Kun, he would still

  succumb to the temptation and ease of violence,

  regardless of the weapon he chose.

  The lightsaber handle felt cold in his grip,

  but Kyp switched the power off and clipped the handle

  to his belt. He stood alone, face — to — face

  with the shadow that now seemed his own size, merely the

  black outline of a human wearing a shroud.

  "I will not fight you," Kyp said.

  "I am glad," said the voice, which became

  clearer now, more maddeningly familiar. Not Exar

  Kun at all. It never had been.

  The shadowy arms reached up to pull back the

  cowl, exposing a luminous face that clearly

  belonged to Kyp's brother, Zeth.

  "I am dead," the image of Zeth said, "but

  only you can keep my memory strong. Thank you

  for freeing me, brother."

  The image of Zeth embraced Kyp with a

  brief, tingling rustle of warmth that melted the ice

  in Kyp's spine. Then the spirit vanished, and Kyp

  found himself alone again in a msty, empty temple

  that no longer held any power over him.

  Kyp stepped into the warm sunlight again, free

  of the shadows. On the opposite shore he saw

  Master Skywalker stand up and look at him.

  Luke's face wore a broad grin, and he

  opened his arms in a celebratory gesture.

  "Come back and join us, Kyp," Master

  Skywalker called. His voice echoed

  across the flat surface of the still water.

  "Welcome home, Jedi Knight."

  The immense barricade doors of the Imperial

  Correction Facility did not budge, nor

  did they open when Han knocked. Naturally.

  He stood with Lando and Mara Jade outside

  on the scoured landscape of Kessel, dressed in

  an insulated jumpsuit taken from the Lady

  Luck's stores. Mara leaned closer to Han,

  her shout muffled through the breath mask covering her

  mouth.

  "We could bring down a full — scale assault

  team from the moon," she said. "We have enough

  firepower."

  "No!" Lando shouted. His dark eyes shone with

  excitement and anxiety. "There must be a way

  to get in without damaging my facility!"

  The cold, dry wind stung Han's eyes, and

  he turned his head to protect them from the breeze.

  He remembered gasping for air when Skynxnex,

  Moruth Doole's henchman, had dragged him and

  Chewbacca into the spice mines without giving them

  breathing apparatus. Right now Han wanted nothing

  more than to kick the toadlike Doole out of the

  prison so that his frog eyes could blink and his fat

  lips pump together as he tried to fill his lungs.

  Doole, an administrator of the Correction

  Facility, had dealt in black — market

  glitterstim, making deals with Han and other

  smugglers to deliver the precious cargo

  to gangsters such as Jabba the Hutt. But Doole

  had a habit of delivering his partners

  into Imperial hands whenever it proved convenient.

  Doole had ratted on Han long ago, forcing

  him to dump his cargo — which had made Jabba very

  angry. ...

  Han did not want to be back on Kessel.

  He wanted to be back home with his wife and children.

  He wanted to have his companion Chewbacca back.

  He wanted to take a nice, relaxing vacation.

  For once.

  "I've got a better idea," Mara said,

  interrupting Han's thoughts. She craned her

  neck to look up at the murky sky. "Up on

  the garrison moon I brought along Ghent, our

  slicer. You might remember him. He used to be

  one of Talon Karrde's top aides.

  He can crack into anything."

  Han remembered the brash young slicer: an

  enthusiastic kid who knew electronics and

  computer systems intimately, but didn't know when

  to keep his mouth shut. Han shrugged. They

  didn't need social skills now; they needed

  someone who could crack through the defenses.

  "Okay, bring him down along with the

  Falcon," Han said. "I've got a few

  gadgets inside my ship that might help us out,

  too. The sooner we can get in, the sooner I

  can get going."

  Lando agreed. "Yes, any way to enter without

  doing too much damage ..."

  Mara pursed her lips. "I'm also going

  to bring in a team of fighters. I've got four

  Mistryl guards and a handful of other smugglers who

  are getting fidgety with our new alliance. Some

  of them have been complaining that it's been too long

  since they had a good, satisfying fistfight."

  An hour later, cold and uncomfortable even in

  the insulated suit, Han sat on the Lady

  Luck's thruster pod. He saw the faltering

  plumes from two distant atmosphere — factory

  stacks, but the rest of the world stood lifeless. He

  knew from experience, though, that deep within the spice

  mines lurked hideous energy spiders, waiting

  to strike any creature they found.

  Han heard a sonic boom reverberate through

  the thin atmosphere, a high — pitched sound mixed

  with the thunder of sublight engines. He scanned the

  sky until he saw the pronged disk of the

  Millennium Falcon.

  The ship landed in a powdery white clearing beside the

  Lady Luck. The ramp slid out, and five

  smugglers emerged: two tall, well — muscled

  women — Mistryl guards — a hairy,

  tusk — faced Whiphid, and a reptilian

  Trandoshan; each wore a uniform with the

 
crosshatched insignia of the new Smugglers'

  Alliance. The smugglers bristled with weapons;

  their bulging belts contained enough recharge packs for

  an entire assault.

  Last down the ramp, still fumbling to adjust a

  breath mask over his face, came Ghent the

  slicer, with tousled hair and rapidly blinking,

  alert eyes. He nodded cursorily at Mara,

  then fixed his entire attention on the barricade

  gates. Slung over his shoulder was a satchel

  crammed with tools, diagnostic

  apparatus, splitters, rerouting circuits, and

  security — cracking equipment. "Should be a piece

  of cake," Ghent said.

  Mara Jade and Lando sat next to Han and

  watched Ghent fall to work with total concentration, not

  the least distracted by the miserable environment of

  Kessel.

  Han said, "I certainly never dreamed I'd

  be trying so hard to break into the Kessel

  prison."

  Cowering behind a locked door in the lower levels

  of the Imperial Correction Facility, Moruth

  Doole longed for the good old days. Compared to the

  constant paranoia he had endured for the past several

  months, even life under the Imperial yoke had

  been paradise.

  After he had taken over the prison years

  ago, Doole had moved into the warden's office,

  where he could spend much time staring out at the

  landscape, observing the desolate purity of the

  alkali wastelands. He had fed upon tender flying

  insects. Whenever the whim struck him, he had

  mated with one of his captive female Rybets in

  his personal harem.

  Now, though, since Daala's attack, he

  had moved into one of the high — security prison

  cells for protection. He had tried to make

  preparations, establish defenses, because he knew

  someone was going to come after him, sooner or later.

  The cell walls were thick and blast proof. The

  lights shone down, burning shapes into his

  blurry vision. He tapped the mechanical eye

  that helped him to focus. The device had broken

  during the space battle around Kessel.

  Doole had tinkered with the mechanical components,

 

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