Kyp held his silence for a few moments. 'No.''
'No?'' she repeated, incredulous. 'You said yourself that no one can know
about this.''
'And I hold to that. But I'll do it myself.''
She lifted one brow in challenge. 'What's the matter? Not the sort of
lessons you had in mind?''
'An apprentice should learn from a Master, not repeat his mistakes.''
'This is no different from the little Jedi mind tricks that every Jedi uses
without a twinge of guilt,'' she argued. 'You're just better at it than
most. If I'd wanted to become a singer of ballads, I'd be traveling with
Tionne. You want to win the war against the Yuuzhan Vong. That's why we're
here. Show me.''
The Jedi Master let out a profound sigh. He grimaced as if steeling himself
for an unpleasant task, then dropped to one knee. 'Watch, feel and follow,''
he instructed, and then reached out to one of the prisoners.
Jaina felt the older Jedi's power reach into the man's mind. Kyp formed the
image of a morning-misted sun, barely visible above the forest horizons of
Gallinore-- about the time, Jaina recalled, that they had landed. With
smooth, cool strokes, Kyp swept away the memory from that moment to this. He
eased away, like a thief creeping from a plundered home.
Slowly Kyp broke the contact with the fallen guard and lifted his eyes to
hers. His face was still pale from the chilling tumble, and the deep shadows
beneath his eyes made them look vividly green. The power in them, though
fading, was both eerie and compelling. 'Now you.''
Jaina nodded and reached out to another guard. But instead of envisioning
the morning sun, she focused upon an image of a chronometer. Slowly she
forced it into backward motion, stripping away moments from a man's life.
When the task was done, she looked to the Jedi Master. He studied her for a
moment, his expression unreadable. 'You have a knack for this,'' he said at
last. 'Good control. Very precise. You take that one, I'll do the other.
Let's get this over with.''
In moments they were back on their way to Sinsor Khal's lab. Jaina placed
her hand on the palm reader, and the door slid open. A small, thin man
glanced up from his work. At first glance there was nothing particularly
unusual about him. His sandy hair was neatly groomed, and his beard short
and trimmed. He wore a red lab coat marked with a few dark spots.
'Professor Khal?'' Jaina inquired.
'I am he. And you'd be Ta'a Chume's young protege,'' he said easily.
'Welcome.''
He came forward, one hand extended in greeting. At close range she noted the
faint, coppery scent emanated from the red garments, and realized that the
color was chosen for practicality, or perhaps camouflage. This was a man who
dealt in blood, and his red lab coat served the same purpose in this venue
that the green flight suits did above.
Jaina took Sinsor Khal's hand, noting as she did that the scientist was not
much taller than she. She could look him directly in the face without
tipping back her head-- an unusual experience for the small young woman.
The scientist did not return her scrutiny. In fact, his eyes never settled
on her or the two men behind her. Obviously he was aware of them, but he
seemed strangely detached. Most people would have commented on their wet
clothes, their disheveled appearance. Curious, Jaina reached out through the
Force. There was little to read. Sinsor Khal was strangely closed to her.
The only perception she could pick up was a neutral curiosity, devoid of
almost any emotional flavoring and far different from any human response
she'd encountered before. They were not persons but specimens, perhaps?
She quickly withdrew her hand and gestured toward the tall Hapan. 'This man
has the implant.''
'Just put him over there,'' he said, gesturing.
'There'' was a long table, bordered with a small gutter and slanted downward
slightly toward a pair of drains.
Kyp turned a dubious stare toward Jaina. 'It'll be fine,'' she asserted.
The prisoner didn't share her optimism. The struggle to get him onto the
table ended abruptly when Sinsor Khal placed a small blaster-shaped weapon
against the man's shoulder and pressed the trigger. The Hapan slumped over
the table.
'Now then,'' the scientist announced. 'All set for a quick vivisection and a
general tune-up. A figure of speech,'' he added cheerfully, as if he
perceived the stormcloud frown gathering on Kyp's face.
Jaina and Kyp worked together to shift the big man onto the table. As she
straightened, hands to the small of her aching back, Jaina felt a flash of
mental power, a force of mind weirdly similar to that of a Jedi. She whirled
toward it and stared directly into Sinsor Khal's face. The scientist was
looking at her, really looking, with an intensity that suggested he saw
things most people could never fathom.
'I know you,'' he observed.
Jaina shook her head. 'From what Ta'a Chume said, you were already a guest
of Gallinore's government when I was learning to walk. I've never been to
Gallinore before.''
An odd smile slipped onto Sinsor Khal's face. He held his hand out, palm up.
A small, sharp tool rose from the tray and settled down into his grasp with
practiced ease. Jaina's jaw fell, but the scientist hardly seemed to notice
his own feat.
'I didn't say we'd met,'' the failed Jedi specified. 'I said I know you.''
Kyp started forward. Jaina placed one hand on his arm. 'We've got to get
back,'' she said softly. 'We still have some work to do to make sure there's
no record of our passing.''
After a moment, Kyp nodded agreement. They left their prisoner in Sinsor
Khal's dubious care and retraced their steps through the corridors, seeking
out all those they'd encountered. The older Jedi insisted on doing most of
the work. Jaina was content to let him do as he willed. She'd stretched her
Force powers to new levels today, and the scientist's words echoed through
her thoughts like mocking laughter. She could not ignore them, could not
deny them-- not considering the task still before her.
Finally Kyp retuned to the ship, leaving Jaina to deal with Lowbacca. As she
entered the research center, all the chill and pain of the tunnels seemed to
come back to her, centering in a cold lump in the pit of her stomach.
Lowbacca was still seated at the terminal, his furry face engrossed. The
dark-haired tech had grown bored of her assignment and sat wearily at
another workstation. A faint smile touched Jaina's lips. The Wookiee loved
computers. He probably had scant perception of the hours that had passed
since his arrival. In a way, that made her task easier.
Jaina came up behind him and leaned down, resting her chin on his shoulder.
Her eyes drifted shut, and she drew in a long, steadying breath. The
familiar, musty scent of Wookiee fur filled her senses. She reached out
through the Force and for a moment savored the solid, loyal presence that
was Lowbacca. The only friend who truly trusted her, the only Jedi who
looked at her and saw the Jaina she once had been.
needed information and returned it to her. When he slipped it into her hand,
she caught his big paw and clung to it for a moment. He tipped his head to
one side and slanted a curious look back up at her. His nose wrinkled at the
scent of coolant that clung to her nearly-dry flight suit.
'Long story,'' she said softly. 'I need you to get into the security
records. I was never there. Make that happen.''
The Wookiee nodded and erased her footsteps with a few deft movements. When
a satisfied grunt announced his success, Jaina reached out through the link
between them and brought to mind an image of a Wookiee sun dial. Slowly,
inexorably, she forced the shadows to deepen.
A few moments later, Jaina straightened up and turned toward the tech.
Puzzlement and then concern swept the woman's thin face. Suddenly Jaina was
aware of the damp tracks of tears on her cheeks. She wiped them away, as
she'd wiped the past few hours from Lowbacca's memory.
The Apprentice Page 3