Jedi Under Siege
Page 7
to take care of the enemy. That was too much luck to hope for.
With a crackle of static over the conun system, a gruff and gloating
voice spoke-but it wasn't any rescuer. "Well . . . Jacen Solo!
You're one of those feisty Jedi brats we ran into down in the lower
levels of Coruscant.
remember me-Norys? I was the leader of the Lost Ones gang. You stole
that hawk-bat egg from us and now I think we're about to even all the
old scores. Hah!"
^ Jacen felt a shiver go down his spine as he remembered the
broad-shouldered bully who had such an appetite for destruction. Norys
continued.
"The little trash collector, Zekk, joined us in the Second Imperium, but
you have made the wrong choice, boy. I just wanted you to know who was
going to blast you to slag."
The TIE pilot signed off and continued the conversation with a volley of
laser bolts.
"Well, I'm glad he picked such a fine time to contact us," Peckhum said,
fighting with the controls, unable to fly an evasive pattern anymore. He
worked with all his talent just to keep the Lightning Rod from falling
apart in the sky. 'I don't think well last much longer, and I'm sure
that Norys kid would have hated to blow us up before he got a chance to
say his little goodbye."
The engines of the Lightning Rod began to smoke. More alarms blared from
the control panels. Behind them Norys's TIE fighter continued to fire
mercilessly, pounding their hull, trying to crack open the battered
cargo ship.
Jacen stared at the comm unit, but didn't think it would do any good to
send out another distress signal.
The jungle treetops rushed by beneath
^ them. Jacen looked wildly from side to side.
"I don't suppose it would be a good time to tell a joke," he said.
Peckhum shook his head. "Don't feel much like laughing right now."
^ 2 -----------------THE THICK BRANCHES of the damp and shadowy jungle
closed around him, pressing in. It reminded Zekk of the murky lower
levels of Coruscant. It felt almost like home.
He and his troops of Dark Jedi had fallen from the skies, buoyed by
repulsorpacks.
After coming to rest in the upper branches, they'd worked their way down
to ground level and spread out to surround the fleeing Jedi trainees
Master Skywalker had brainwashed into supporting Rebel philosophies.
Zekk knew little about politics. He understood only who his friends and
supporters were-and who had betrayed him. Like Jacen and Jaina . . .
especially Jaina. He had thought she was his friend, a close companion.
Only later, after Brakiss had explained it, did Zekk understand what
Jaina really thought of him, how easily she dismissed his Jedi potential
and the possibility that he might be an equal to her and
^
^ her high-born twin brother. But Zekk did have the potential, and he
had proved it.
In spite of this, he hoped Jacen and Jaina would not fight him, because
then he would have to demonstrate his power-and his loyalty to the
Second Imperium. He remembered his first test against Tamith Kai's prize
student Vilas, and Vilas had paid with his life.
In the upper branches of a tree overhead, one Dark Jedi fighter had
become tangled.
Zekk watched as the bright arc of a lightsaber blade slashed boughs out
of the way, clearing a path for the fighter to descend to the lower
levels.
Overhead a wing of TIE fighters roared across the skies, firing into the
forest. The Dark Jedi spread out, looking for potential victims on their
own. Zekk gathered three of the nearest fighters to his side and they
marched along, crashing through the underbrush.
They reached the edge of the wide river, whose brown-green currents
lapped quietly through the jungle, stirring overhanging fronds. Farther
downstream, closer to the tall Massassi temple ruins, he saw Tamith
Kai's hovering battle platform.
Zekk stood beside his Dark Jedi compan
^ ions on the riverbank. The other fighters exchanged glances and
pointed skyward.
Zekk nodded, knowing what they wished to do. "Yes," he said. "Let us
conjure a storm, a great wind to knock the jungle flat and send these
Jedi cowards scurrying."
He looked up into the clear blue skies and reached deep within his
heart, finding a shadow of anger, the pain he had felt in his life. He
knew how to use anger as a tool, a weapon. Zekk gathered the winds.
Beside him, he felt the other dark-side warriors doing the same, drawing
thunderheads until lumpy black clouds rolled in from the horizon.
The wind picked up and grew colder, charged with static electricity.
ZeWs scarlet lined cape rippled around him. Stray strands of his dark
hair whipped around his face as the wind snatched them free of his
ponytail.
Flashing bolts of lightning skittered from one thunderhead to another.
The rumble of noise drowned out even the sound of TIE fighters
crisscrossing overhead.
Zekk smiled. Yes, a storm was coming, a victorious storm.
But as the clouds continued to swell, releasing a powerful weather
energy, he heard sounds of repeated laser cannon fire
^ and glanced to the sky, where another battle was taking place: a
one-sided dogfight. A smoking ship careened overhead, pursued by a lone
TIE fighter that shot its energy bolts again and again, mercilessly
pummeling its prey.
Astonished, Zekk recognized the clunky patchwork form of the Lightning
Rod, the cargo ship of his old friend Peckhum, the man with whom he had
lived for many years.
Peckhum! They had been close companions, good friends despite how
little they had in common. Too late, he remembered that the old spacer
earned extra credits by making occasional supply runs to Skywalker's
Jedi academy. Could it be that his old friend had been here on the
jungle moon when this morning's attack began?
His heart sank, and a wrenching dismay filled his stomach. His
concentration on the storm faltered.
In the backlash, winds whipped the trees closer to him, blowing back
branches as the other Dark Jedi struggled to retain control of the
gusting squall.
"No, Peckhum," Zekk said, looking up as he watched the TIE fighter
blasting the hapless Lightning Rod. A small explosion
^ flared on its hull, and Zekk knew that the battered supply ship had
just lost its shields.
The Lightning Rod was going down-and there was nothing he could do about
it.
He heard shouts of surprise next to him as the Dark Jedi Knights
completely lost control of the gathering storm. The winds continued to
snap branches and uproot saplings, then gradually dissipated as the
dark-side warriors stopped manipulating the weather.
Their attention had been drawn to a young Jedi trainee they discovered
in the underbrush-someone who had either been creeping up on them or
simply hiding from Zekk's advance.
The boy scrambled out of the weeds, spiky pale hair blowing around his
flushed face.
His clothes an
d robes were so ridiculously garish-bright purples and
golds and greens and reds-that they hurt Zekk's eyes. How could this
young man have thought to hide while dressed like that?
The boy appeared frightened, but determined. He thrust his lower lip out
and stood with his hands on his hips, his rainbow colored robes rippling
around him in the last vestiges of the angry wind.
t
^
'Very well, you give me no choice," the boy said, then cleared his
throat. "I am Raynar, Jedi Knight . . . uh, in training. You will either
surrender now-or force me to attack YOU."
Two of Zekk's companions laughed in wholehearted amusement, ignited
their lightsabers, and stalked toward the trapped young man. Raynar
stepped backward until he bumped against the rough trunk of a tree. He
squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to concentrate. He held his breath
until his face turned bright red, then purplish.
Zekk felt a slight invisible push as the boy attempted to use the Force
to drive them back. The two lightsaber-bearing Dark Jedi seemed not even
to notice.
Zekk found, though, that he had no stomach for outright slaughter. This
boy seemed proud and brash, but there was something about him-an
innocence . . .
Thinking quickly, before his two companions could drive in and make
short work of Raynar, Zekk reached out with the Force, grabbed the boy
by his bright robes, and yanked him off his feet. With a flick of his
mind, he hurled Raynar over the heads of his companions, tossing him out
into the
^ river. Raynar yowled as he flew, then plunged befly-first into the
thin, muddy waters.
The two Dark Jedi whirled, looking angrily at Zekk. Out in the water,
Raynar splashed to the shallows, completely soaked in mud, his robes
covered with river slime.
"It is a greater victory to utterly humiliate your enemy than simply to
kill him," Zekk said. "And we have humiliated this Jedi in a way he will
never forget."
The dark warriors next to him chuckled at the observation, and Zekk knew
he had defused their anger . . . for the moment, at least.
Then he looked longingly into the sky, hoping to spot any trace of the
Lightning Rod, but he saw only a dissipating cloud of smoke overhead. He
wished he could find some way to help his friend; would he be forced to
count the loss of Peckhum as part of the cost of victory?
The wounded ship had passed out of sight to where the battle would reach
its foregone conclusion. He was certain he would never see the Lightning
Rod or Peckhum again.
^ 3 -----------------QORI2S TIE FIGHTER flew low over the jungle,
mapping out targets for the assault squadron. The rest of his fighter
wing had their own orders, and they flew in their own attack patterns.
He doubted, though, that his student Norys would bother to follow orders
once the battles actually started and laser shots began to fly. The
bully would blunder from target to target like a mad gun dark, likely to
cause as much damage to the Imperial plans as he did to the Rebels.
Qorl felt cold inside, liquid dismay hardening to ice. He had expected
to be exhilarated by flying and fighting again, piloting his own TIE
fighter in battle for the Second Imperium.
Instead, he had only reservations and second thoughts. He dreaded the
possibility that he had made a bad decision and that the
^
^ Second Imperium might have to pay the price.
Norys continued to be a great disappointment. When Qorl had selected the
tough young man, he knew the bully's personality had hardened during
years of harsh living, though he had lorded over the Lost Ones on
Coruscant. The broad-shouldered boy had been dedicated, vowing to become
an Imperial soldier because it gave him a feeling of power and
confidence-exactly what the Second Imperium needed.
However, a loyal soldier was also required to obey orders. A servant of
the Empire couldn't be a loose cannon, following his own wishes rather
than the commands of his superiors. As he'd grown accustomed to his
situation, Norys had become increasingly disrespectful, even
insubordinate.
The bully was truly bloodthirsty, wanting simply to dominate, to cause
pain, to achieve utter victory. He did not fight for the glory of the
Second Imperium, or for bringing back the New Order-or for any sort of
political goal. He fought simply to fight. And that was a deadly
attitude, no matter which side he fought for.
Qorl circled, zeroing in on a raging forest fire that had been started
by one of the TIE
^ bombers, then streaked along the river to where Tamith Kai's battle
platform hovered over t e trees. ver his cockpit communication channel,
Qorl heard a loud, desperate transmission on all bands-and recognized
the voice.
"Attention, New Republic. We have an emergency! This is Jacen Solo on
Yavin 4, requesting immediate assistance. We are under attack by the
Shadow Academy!" Qorl sat up, adjusted his black helmet, and flew
steadily. He remembered the young twins who had helped fix his TIE
fighter, the brother and sister who had been his prisoners around the
campfire in the depths of the jungle. They had offered him friendship .
. . and tried to turn him from his loyalty to the Second Imperium. But
he had been indoctrinated too well.
Surrender is betrayal.
So Qorl had escaped and made his way to the Shadow Academy, where he had
watched as the twins were brought in to be trained under the murderous
tutelage of Tamith Kai and Brakiss. Qorl had been deeply disturbed by
the violence of their instruction, the disregard for the lives of the
fresh students.
No one had ever found out that Qorl had
^ discreetly assisted the young friends in their escape as they fled
the Shadow Academy.
After that Qorl had privately done everything he could to atone for the
indiscretion, making his raid on the Rebel convoy to steal hyperdrive
cores and turbolaser batteries, then working hard to train Norys and the
other new stonntroopers.
A smoking ship streaked overhead: a blaster-scarred and battered cargo
transport. Qorl recognized the model of the ship, an unarmed carrier
vessel of an old design.
Its engines were sluggish, its shields not designed or reinforced for
combat.
And now he saw that it was being pursued by a relentless TIE fighter.
Qorl was ashamed to see the TIE pilot waste shot after shot, although
sheer luck allowed some of the laser bolts to strike the hull. It would
be only a matter of time before the cargo ship exploded in midair.
Qorl tuned his cockpit comm systems to a direct channel with the other
TIE fighter.
"TIE pilot, identify yourself."
The gruff voice that responded came as no surprise to Qorl. "This is
Norys, old man.
Don't bother me-I've got a target in my sights."
^ He swallowed, but his throat remained dry. "Norys, you have already
crippled the target. That cargo ship is not our main objective. Your
> orders are to disable the Jedi academy. That ship won't be causing any
more trouble for the Second Imperium." "Leave off, old man," Norys said.
"This is my kill, and I'm gonna score it." Qorl tried to keep his anger
in check. "We don't keep score, Norys. This assault is for the Second
Imperium-not for your personal glory."
"Go stick your head up an exhaust tube," Norys said. "I'm not letting an
old coward tell me what to do." Then the bully switched off his comm
system and plunged after the burning cargo ship, firing with absolute
abandon.
Qorl's disappointment turned to outrage.
This young man's attitude flew in the face of everything admirable about
the Empire.
Qorl remembered his earlier TIE fighter training, how he and his fellow
pilots had all worked together like a machine: precise, well mannered,
respectful, listening to orders promoting the orderly lifestyle the
Emperor had brought to the g@. That was worth fighting for.
^ But Norys did not represent such a philosophy. He didn't care.
The broadband comm signal came across his speakers again. "This is Jacen
Solo with a personal distress this time. We are in deep trouble. Someone
is on our tail. Request assistance. Please-can anyone out there help