healing itself with a vengeance. The bacta tanks are
working overtime, effective again now that Cilghal
removed the nano — destroyers. I'm anxious
to move about, to see all the things that happened while
I was sick. I have a lot to catch up on. But
the medical droids say I have to stay here and
rest."
Leia laughed. "You have plenty of time, don't
worry. Do you — was She hesitated, not wanting
to push Mon Mothma, but anxious to know. "Do you
have any idea when you'll be ready to take back
your duties as Chief of State?"
Assisted again by the droids, Mon Mothma
toiled over to one of the padded seats near the bacta
tank. She slowly sank into the cushions.
Still — damp garments clung to her wasted body. She
did not answer for a long time. When Mon Mothma
looked up, her expression made Leia's
heart skip a beat.
"Leia, I am no longer Chief of State.
You are," she said. "I served well for many
years, but this wasting illness has made me weak —
not only physically, but also in the eyes of the New
Republic. The New Republic must not waver
in these trying times. Our leadership must be strong and
dynamic. We need someone like you, Leia,
daughter of the legendary Senator Bail
Organa.
"My decision is firm. I won't
attempt to regain my title. It's time for me
to rest and recover with a great deal of thought on how
best to serve the New Republic. Until such
time as that changes, our future is in your hands."
Leia swallowed and forced a comically stoic
expression on her face. "I was afraid you were
going to say that," she said. "But if I can handle a
few Imperial renegades, I suppose I can
keep the Council members in line. After all,
they're on our side."
"You may find that the Imperials surrender a
bit more readily than Council members,
Leia."
Leia groaned. "You're probably right."
The winds sang on the planet Vortex.
Leia stared up at the newly rebuilt
Cathedral of Winds, which rose like a gesture of
defiance against the terrible storms. Beside her Han
kept blinking as the breezes stung his eyes, but
he seemed awed by the tall structure.
The new Cathedral was different from what had
been destroyed by Ackbar's crash, more streamlined.
The winged Vors had shown no interest in recreating
their previous design, following a plan that
seemed to flow from their collective alien minds.
Crystal cylinders glittered in the sunlight,
large and small tubes like a towering pipe
organ. Notches and windows had been cut into the
curved surfaces. The leathery — winged Vors
flew about, opening and closing the orifices to shape
patterns of music as the winds whistled through.
Everything else hunched low to the ground, but the
Cathedral of Winds soared, like the spirit of the New
Republic.
The impending storm rippled the thick carpet of
purple, vermilion, and tan grasses that
covered the plains. Low hummocks, underground
Vor dwellings for the vicious storm season, lay
in concentric rings around the pinnacles of the new
cathedral.
Leia and Han stood surrounded by a New
Republic formal escort on a patch of
grass packed down with polished squares of
synthetic marble, laid out to form a low viewing
stage. The Vors wheeled about in the air,
flapping their wings and circling over the audience.
The winged aliens had allowed no off — worlders
to hear the concert of winds since the Emperor
Palpatine had established his New Order; but
with the success of the Rebellion, the Vors had
finally permitted spectators again, not only
representatives from the New Republic but also
dignitaries from a host of populated worlds.
Leia's first attempt to come here with Ackbar had
ended in disaster, but she was certain that this time everything
would turn out well.
Han stood beside her, dressed in the
diplomatic finery that he obviously found
uncomfortable, but she thought it made him look
dashing. That seemed no consolation to her husband as
he chafed under the rough and stiff formal dress.
He must have sensed Leia looking at him, because
he glanced down to give her a roguish smile.
He snuggled closer, slipping an arm
around her waist and pulling her tightly against him.
The wind whipped around them.
"Feels good to relax," he said. "And it's
good to be with you, Your Highness."
"I'm Chief of State now, General
Solo," she said with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Maybe I should order you to stay home more
often."
He laughed. "Think it would make any
difference? You know how good I am at following
rules."
Leia smiled as the wind stirred her hair.
"I suppose the two of us will just have to work out a
compromise," she said. "Why does it seem as
if the whole galaxy conspires to keep us away
from each other all the time? We used to have
adventures together!"
"Maybe it's payback for all the lucky
breaks I've had," he said.
"I hope your luck comes back soon, then."
She snuggled against him.
"Never quote me the odds." Han ran his
fingers up and down her back, making her skin
tingle. "I feel lucky enough right now."
The wind picked up and the hollow music lifted
higher.
Chewbacca's matted fur blew in all
directions, making him look as if he had
toweled off after a steam bath and forgotten to comb his
body hair. He bellowed over the winds and the
music of the cathedral.
Threepio's tinny voice rang out.
"Anakin. Jacen and Jaina! Children, where are you?
Oh, please do come back here. We're growing very
worried."
Chewbacca and Threepio waded through the thick
grasses in search of the twins and their little brother.
Anakin had crawled off to hide during the
cathedral's opening ceremony. Distracted by the
ethereal harmonies, none of the spectators had
noticed the baby disappearing into the grasses,
including Chewbacca and Threepio.
Upon seeing their little brother missing, Jacen and
Jaina had both dashed out into the expansive
fields, claiming they would help find baby
Anakin — and of course now all three children were lost.
Chewbacca and Threepio tried not to cause too
much of a distraction as they searched.
"Jacen and Jaina!" Threepio said.
"Oh, dear, what are we to do, Chewbacca? This
is most embarrassing."
They stumbled through thick rustling grass that rose
to Chewbacca's chest. Threepio spread his
golden arms to clear a path for himself. "This is
scratching up my plating," he said. "I was never
meant for duty like this."
Chewbacca cocked his head to listen, ignoring
Threepio's complaints. He heard children giggling
somewhere among the whispering grass blades. The
Wookiee plunged through the thickets, swiping with
his hairy paws to knock the blades out of his
way. He found no one — only a trampled path
from where he had heard the sounds. He would find them
sooner or later.
From behind him, swallowed up in the dense grass,
he heard another thin voice. "Oh,
Chewbacca! Where have you gone? Now I'm lost!"
Standing on the polished mosaic platform of
synthetic marble squares, Admiral Ackbar
held himself rigidly at attention beside
white — robed Winter as the cathedral played its
music. They sat among other off — world
dignitaries and lavishly clad
representatives from various planets.
He had been reluctant to come for the christening
ceremony, since he had accidentally destroyed the
old Cathedral of Winds. He had feared the
Vors might hold a grudge against him — but the
Vors were a flat, emotionless race who seemed
unaffected by individual events. They simply
pushed on, recovering and striving to complete their
plans. They had not censured the New
Republic, had demanded no retribution; they
had simply fallen to work reconstructing the
Cathedral of Winds.
The wind whistled cold around his exposed skin.
The music sounded beautiful.
Nearby, a lovely woman decked in
jewels and bright primary colors clung to a
haggard, weary — looking young man, who slumped in
his chair. Ackbar glanced at them, then bent
close to Winter, lowering his voice. "Could you
tell me who those people are? I do not recognize
them."
Winter studied the pair, and her face took
on a distant look as if she were sifting through
various files in her mind. "I believe that is
the Duchess Mistal from Dargul and her
consort."
"I wonder why he appears to be so
miserable," Ackbar said.
"Perhaps he is not a music lover," Winter
suggested, then settled into an awkward silence.
Finally she spoke again. "I am glad you
decided to return to the service of the New
Republic, Ackbar. You have much to give to the
future of our government."
Ackbar nodded solemnly, looking at the
human woman who had served so many years as
Leia's close personal aid.
"I am pleased that you yourself have been freed from
exile on Anoth," he said. "I was concerned for
you. Your personal talents and perceptiveness are
greatly needed, and I have always valued your input."
Ackbar could see that Winter masked her
expression carefully, allowing just a glimmer of a
smile to show that she was holding back as much as he
was.
"Good, then," Winter said. "We shall be seeing a
great deal more of each other in times to come."
Ackbar nodded to her. "I would enjoy that."
* * *
Qwi Xux listened longingly to the music of the
winds. The notes rose higher, dipped lower,
wove around themselves to form a complex,
never — to — be — repeated melody, since the Vors
forbade any recording of their storm concerts, and
no two were ever alike.
The flying creatures flitted up and down the
shafts of crystal, opening hatchways, covering
small holes with their hands or bodies as they
shaped the symphony, building it as the storm
grew closer.
The music seemed to tell Qwi's own life
story. It struck her emotional chords, blowing
through the hollows and crevices of her heart so that
she heard the feelings she had experienced through her
life: her childhood loss, her agonized
training, her brainwashed imprisonment for years in
Maw Installation ... and her sudden thrill of
freedom as she met members of the New
Republic who helped her escape ... then
Wedge Antilles, who had opened up more new
worlds for her, bright dawns she had never before
imagined.
Now, after her time of healing, after she had
returned to Maw Installation and walked
along the old corridors, set foot in her
former laboratory — Qwi no longer chose
to mourn those lost memories.
When the misguided Kyp Durron had erased
her thoughts, it had been a violent act. But, in
hindsight, she thought he might have inadvertently
done her a great favor. She did not wish
to remember her devastating weapons work. She
felt as if she had been reborn, given a new
chance to start a life with Wedge, unencumbered
by dark thoughts of the deadly inventions she had helped
to create.
The music continued: hollow and mournful, then
joyous and uplifting, in an eerie counterpoint like
nothing she had ever experienced before.
"Would you like to go back to Ithor with me?" Wedge
bent close and whispered in her ear. "We can do
our vacation right this time."
Qwi smiled back at him. The idea of
returning to the lush jungle world sounded wonderful
to her: the self — contained cities drifting over the
treetops, and the peaceful alien people. The experience
would do much to ease the pain from the memories she had
lost there.
"You mean we'd no longer have to hide from
Imperial spies? From Admiral Daala?"
"We wouldn't have to worry about any of that,"
Wedge said. "We could concentrate entirely on
enjoying ourselves."
The Vors opened up all of the hatchways and
windows in the Cathedral of Winds. As the storm
center hurled its greatest gales at the
structure, the music built to a spiraling
crescendo, a triumphant finale that seemed
to echo throughout the galaxy.
Sunrise on the fourth moon of Yavin.
Artoo — Detoo trundled ahead up the
flagstoned ramp, chittering and bleeping as the new
Jedi Knights followed him. In silence they
gathered atop the Great Temple to look across the
mist — covered treetops. The orange gas
giant glowed from behind as the system's sun came
closer to the limb, suffusing the upper atmosphere
with light.
As the jungle moon continued in its headlong
orbit, Luke Skywalker took his position in
front of the procession to greet the coming
dawn. Beside him walked young Kyp Durron, still
limping slightly from his newly healed injuries,
but moving with an enormous inner strength. His
entire attitude had changed in such a short
time.
But while Kyp had been through the greatest ordeal
of the new Jedi, Luke's other students had also
proved themselves to be greater than he had fore
seen,
greater than he had hoped.
Together they had overthrown Exar Kun, the Dark
Lord of the Sith. Cilghal had saved Mon
Mothma's life with new techniques in Jedi
healing. Streen had recovered his confidence and had
shown remarkable adeptness at feeling and touching the
weather.
Tionne continued her quest to resurrect
Jedi history, a job made more difficult now
that the Jedi Holocron had been destroyed — but
Luke knew there were other Holocrons to be
found, though they might have been lost over the
millennia. Many of the ancient Jedi Masters had
recorded their lives and their wisdom in such
devices.
Others, such as Dorsk 81, Kam
Solusar, and Kirana Ti had not exhibited
their particular aptitudes yet, though their powers
were broad and strong. Some of the new Jedi would stay
on Yavin 4 and continue to train and grow; others
would take their skills out to the galaxy, as
knights to defend the New Republic.
Artoo warbled an announcement, his prediction
of when the first sunlight would strike the apex of the
temple. The little droid seemed immensely
pleased to be at Luke's side.
Luke gathered his Jedi Knights around him,
sensed their growing power intertwined. They were a
team, not just wild cards with powers and abilities
they did not understand.
The others stood on the chipped flagstones of the
observation platform, looking out toward the hidden
sun. Luke tried to find words to express his
glowing pride and his high expectations.
"You are the first of the new Jedi Knights," he
said, raising his hands as if in a benediction. "You
are the core of what will become a great order
to protect the New Republic. You are
champions of the Force."
Though his students did not speak or respond,
he felt the upsurge of their emotions, their
swelling pride.
There would be other students, new trainees who
would come to his Jedi academy. Luke had
to face the fact that he might lose a few to the
dark side — but the more defenders of the Force he could
train, the stronger would be the legions of the light
side.
With a collective gasp the gathered Jedi on
the rooftop watched as the sun burst from the fringe of
Yavin. Brilliant white rays gleaming like
firefacet gems sprayed across the jungle
moon, reflecting and refracting from the swirling
Champions of the Force Page 29