Star Wars: The Jedi Academy Trilogy III: Champions of the Force

by Kevin J. Anderson

  He turned away. “No. What if the Imperials activate me again? What if I am forced to commit some new sabotage?”

  “I’ll keep my eyes peeled,” she said in a hard voice. “But I want you to come see Ackbar.” She thought of the Calamarian admiral’s misery, how he had gone to hide in the wilderness of his planet so others would not have to look at his shame. “You’re going to explain to him that he wasn’t at fault in the Vortex crash.”

  Terpfen worked his way back to his feet. He wobbled on his feet, but finally stood finn. “Minister Organa Solo,” he said. His voice sounded as if he had swallowed something unpleasant. “I—I am sorry.”

  She shot a look at him, but she felt adrenaline pumping through her, a need to be on the move, to do anything possible. Hesitation could mean the loss of everything.

  “Apologize when this is all over,” she said. “Right now I need your help.”

  10

  The Millennium Falcon emerged from hyperspace near the coordinates of the destroyed Caridan star system.

  Han Solo polarized the segmented viewport to look out at the rubble that had recently been a group of planets and a burning sun; now he saw only a slash of still-glowing gases, a sea of radiation from the supernova. The sheer destruction was on a scale greater even than when he had emerged from hyperspace to find Alderaan reduced to broken debris—back before he had even met Leia, before he had thrown his lot in with the Rebellion, and before he had believed in the Force.

  Carida’s exploded star had spewed stellar material in a thick band around the ecliptic, vast curtains of roiling gases that glowed and crackled with intense energy across the spectrum. A shock wave plowed through space, where it would dissipate over thousands of years.

  Under his high-resolution scanners Han spotted a few twisted cinders, burned-out lumps of worlds that had been the outer planets in the system. Now they shone like embers in a dying fire.

  Lando Calrissian sat beside him, his mouth open in amazement. “Boy, that kid sure knows how to cause damage.”

  Han nodded. His throat felt dry and raw. It felt strange not to have Chewbacca in the copilot’s seat. He hoped his Wookiee friend was having an easier time on his mission than Han was.

  The Falcon’s sensor banks barely coped with the overloading energies that pulsed through the wreckage of the Caridan system. X rays and gamma rays hammered against his shields. But Han saw no sign of Kyp.

  “Han, what do you think you’ll find with all this static? If you’re real sharp and real lucky, you might detect an ion trace from the Sun Crusher’s sublight engines, but in the middle of a supernova you’ll never pick up the track. Odds are—”

  Han cut him off with a raised hand. “Never quote me the odds. You know better than that.”

  Lando grinned. “Yeah, I know, I know. So what are we going to do? What was the point of coming to this system?”

  Han pressed his lips together, searching for an answer. It had felt right to come to Carida to pick up Kyp’s trail. “I want to see what he saw,” he said, “think like he might have been thinking. What was going through his mind?”

  “You know him better than I do, buddy. If he ignited the Cauldron Nebula to wipe out Admiral Daala, and now he blew up the Imperial military training center, where would he go next? Think for yourself. What would be your next target?”

  Han stared out at the inferno of what had been Carida’s sun. “If my goal was to strike out at the Empire, causing as much damage as possible … I would head for …” He turned sharply and looked at Lando.

  Lando’s deep-brown eyes flew open. “That’s too dangerous. He wouldn’t go there!”

  Han said, “I don’t think dangerous has anything to do with it.”

  “Let me guess. Next, you’ll say that we’re going to follow him to the Core Systems.”

  “You got it, old buddy.” Han set the coordinates in the navicomputer, and he heard Lando mumble to himself.

  “Now I’ll never get to Kessel on time.”

  The glowing gases of Carida’s exploded star funneled around them as space elongated. The Falcon shot into hyperspace, heading far behind enemy lines and deep into the heart of the remaining forces of the Empire.

  Near the bright heart of the galaxy, where stars lay close together in uncharted configurations, the resurrected Emperor had gathered his defenses to make a last stand. But since Palpatine’s destruction, the Imperial warlords had fought each other for control. With no military genius like Grand Admiral Thrawn to unify the remnants, the Imperial war machine had withdrawn into the protected Core Systems. The warlords had left the victorious New Republic to lick its wounds while they vied for supremacy in their own corner of the galaxy.

  But when one military leader managed to come out on top, the forces would strike against the New Republic. Unless Kyp Durron destroyed them first.

  Han and Lando found an exploded red-dwarf star on the fringes of the Core. The small, dim sun had been unremarkable, and according to the Falcon’s planetary atlas, had no habitable worlds. However, scouts had determined that the red-dwarf system sheltered a starship-construction yard, weapons depot, and storage for archives shielded in thick vaults deep within several lifeless, rocky planets.

  Han looked out the viewport and saw that the small star had exploded in a less-spectacular fashion than Carida’s sun, a fizzle without enough mass to generate a significant chain reaction. But the shock fronts had still pulverized and incinerated the closely orbiting planets.

  “He’s done it again,” Han said. “You can’t miss a trail like the one Kyp is leaving.”

  Lando squinted at the scanners. “I’m tracking eleven Victory-class Star Destroyers heading out of the system.”

  “That’s just great,” Han said. He had enough to worry about with Kyp and the Sun Crusher; he didn’t want to tangle with an Imperial fleet at the same time. “Have they picked us up yet?”

  “Don’t think so. There’s still a lot of radiation and interference from that explosion. Looks to me like they just packed up and ran.”

  Han felt hope blossom in him. “You think this happened recently? Kyp just triggered the star explosion?”

  “Could be.”

  “All right. Then you’d better scan for—”

  “Already got him, Han. The Sun Crusher is sitting high above the ecliptic like he’s just … watching.”

  “Plot a course,” Han said, sitting up straight. “We’re going after him. Full speed.”

  He punched the thrusters, and the Falcon’s bank of sublight engines blazed white. The acceleration shoved Han and Lando back into their seats as the ship made a graceful loop, heading above the orbital plane and approaching the blip on their sensors. As the Falcon closed the gap, though, the Sun Crusher began to flit away.

  “He’s spotted us. After him!” Han said. “If he jumps to lightspeed, we’ve lost him.”

  The Falcon shot forward. Han sighted on a bright speck moving across their path against the starfield.

  “Want me to power up the lasers, Han?” Lando asked. “We’re not going to shoot him, are we? What if he doesn’t stop?”

  “Wouldn’t do any good to shoot him—not with that quantum armor of his.” Han opened a comm channel. “Kyp, it’s me, Han Solo. Kid, we’ve got to talk to you.”

  In answer the Sun Crusher winked as it changed course and increased speed.

  “Punch it,” Han said. “Let’s go.”

  “We’re already pushing the red lines,” Lando said.

  “She’ll hold together,” Han answered, then bent to the comm system again. “Hey, Kyp, listen to me.”

  The Sun Crusher arced around and began to grow larger in the viewport.

  “Ah … Han?” Lando said. “He’s coming right at us.”

  Han felt exhilarated, glad that Kyp was turning around to talk with them.

  “I think he’s going to ram us,” Lando said.

  Han blinked in disbelief. He bent over the transmitter. “Kyp, don’t do this. Kyp!
It’s me, Han.”

  The Sun Crusher hurtled past them, swerving at the last moment to fire a burst of lasers from the defensive weapons mounted on its hull. Han heard the blasts thump against the Falcon, but they caused no damage.

  “Must have been a warning,” Lando said.

  “Yeah, some warning,” Han answered. “Kyp, why don’t—”

  The young man’s brittle voice finally came at them. “Han, leave me alone. Go away. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Ummm, Kyp—that’s what I’d like to talk with you about,” Han said, suddenly at a loss for words.

  The Sun Crusher hurtled toward them as if for another strafing run. As the small craft rushed past, Han worked the controls and yanked out with the Millennium Falcon’s tractor beam, latching on to the small superweapon. “Hey, I caught him!” Han said in surprise.

  The momentum of the Sun Crusher was enough to jerk the Falcon around, but the tractor beams held. Han pumped up the power, increasing his invisible grip. Finally both ships came to a relative dead standstill high above the orbital plane of the exploded red-dwarf star.

  “All right, Han,” Kyp said. “If this is the way you want it … I can’t let you stop me.” The comm system fell silent.

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Lando said.

  Kyp’s voice returned. “One of these resonance torpedoes is enough to make a whole star blow up. I’m sure it’ll make short work of a piece of junk like the Falcon.”

  Han looked out at the crystalline shape of the Sun Crusher. The toroidal projector glowed a crackling blue and green, powering up to launch one of its projectiles at point-blank range.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Han said.

  11

  The midmorning light shone through open skylights into the temple’s grand audience chamber. Golden sunbeams dappled the polished flagstones, reflecting onto the rough-hewn walls.

  From the raised platform behind his motionless body, the spirit of Luke Skywalker watched as Cilghal led the young twins on another visit. Cilghal held the twins’ hands, gliding forward with fluid steps. This morning she wore her bluish ambassadorial garment instead of her drab Jedi robe. Behind the Calamarian ambassador came a guilt-ridden Streen beside muscular and supple Kirana Ti.

  Artoo-Detoo hovered close to Luke’s body, like a sentry rolling back and forth. The astromech droid had taken it upon himself to guard the Jedi Master after the devastating storm. Luke found the little droid’s loyalty deeply touching, though not surprising.

  Han and Leia’s twin children stared wide-eyed at Luke, and his spirit watched them back longingly. Unable to communicate, he felt trapped. What would Obi-Wan have done in such a situation? He believed the Force would give him an answer, if he knew where to look.

  “You see, children? Your Uncle Luke is safe. We rescued him last night. Your mother helped. We all helped. We’re still trying to find some way to wake him up.”

  “I am awake!” Luke shouted into the empty spirit plane. “I’ve got to find a way to communicate that to you.”

  The twins stared at the motionless body. “He is awake,” Jacen said. “He’s right there.” The little boy tilted his dark eyes up to gaze directly at Luke’s spirit.

  With a jolt Luke stared back at Jacen. “You can see me, Jacen? Can you understand me?”

  Both Jaina and Jacen nodded their heads.

  Cilghal wrapped her hands around their shoulders and steered them away. “Of course he is, children.”

  Thrilled and suddenly hopeful, Luke started to drift after them, but Streen came to the platform and threw himself to his knees, looking so stricken that waves of confusion rippled from him like a physical blow to Luke.

  “Master Skywalker, I am deeply sorry!” Streen said. “I listened to the wrong voices in my head. The Dark Man tricked me. He will never do that again.” Streen looked up, his eyes unfocused, flicking from side to side. He seemed to stare at Luke as well.

  “Can you see me too, Streen? Can you hear me?” Luke thought fast, wondering if his abilities had changed.

  “The Dark Man came to me,” Streen said. “But I sense you’re here too, Master Skywalker. I will never doubt you.”

  Kirana Ti squeezed Streen’s shoulder. Luke’s mind raced. Exar Kun could communicate with the others, if only in subtle ways—and now Luke knew that was possible for him too. He could already speak to the twins. Elation swept over him.

  He began to make plans as the other Jedi candidates filed out of the echoing room. Now he was confident he could save himself, perhaps with the help of his Jedi students, his new generation of Jedi Knights.

  From the stone walls behind him an otherworldly voice said, “How touching. Your clumsy students still imagine they can save you—but I know more than they do. My training wasn’t limited by cowardice, as yours was.”

  Exar Kun stood black and wavering. “Gantoris was mine, and he is destroyed. Kyp Durron remains under my tutelage. Streen is already mine. The others will also begin to hear my voice.” He raised his spectral arms. “It is all falling into place.

  “I shall resurrect the Brotherhood of the Sith, and with your Jedi trainees I shall form the core of an invincible Force-wielding army.”

  Luke rounded on him, still not knowing how to fight this intangible enemy. Exar Kun laughed, as if an idea had just occurred to him. “I came to you first in a dream disguised as your fallen father, Skywalker … perhaps I should appear to them in your own form. They will certainly follow the teachings of the Sith if the words come from your mouth.”

  “No!” Luke said. With his astral body he leaped to tackle the shimmering silhouette of the Sith lord. But though his sparkling body passed smoothly through the shadow, Exar Kun did seem to discorporate momentarily.

  Luke felt a spear of ice plunge through his core as he touched Kun, but he stood firm while the Dark Lord reeled against the stone wall, seeping back into the cracks to escape.

  “I’ve already been tempered by the dark side,” Luke said. “I came out stronger. You are weak because you know only the evil teachings. Your understanding is no greater than that of my apprentices.”

  Before he vanished, Exar Kun called back, “We shall see who is stronger.”

  • • •

  The sun had set behind the giant ball of Yavin. With the onset of the moon’s half night, the sky was lit only by an orangish glow reflected from the gas giant, giving the jungle a ruddy appearance.

  Colonies of jabbering woolamanders settled down in the high branches for the night. In the underbrush, predators and prey moved through dances of survival. Sapphire-blue piranha beetles buzzed low over the sluggish rivers in search of victims. Other insects hummed their mating songs.

  Far deeper in the jungle, though, night creatures rose out of shadowy caves and flapped their jagged wings. Hissing and mindless, they followed a burning compulsion that drove them toward the Great Temple.…

  The creatures’ wings made sounds like wet cloth striking stone as they flapped against downdrafts in the rapidly cooling air. Purplish veins pulsed as their black hearts beat swiftly, giving them energy for the long flight.

  Two heads spread out on long, sinuous necks from each muscular torso. A wicked tail dangled behind each creature, ending in a hooked stinger that glistened with crystals of poison. Iridescent scales glittered in the coppery dusk light, as if illuminated by stoked embers. Yellow reptilian eyes widened their pupil slits, seeking their target.

  Alchemical monsters created long ago during the dominion of Exar Kun on Yavin 4, these creatures had lived for generations in the black and dripping grottoes of distant mountains. Now three of them had awakened, called to destroy the body of Luke Skywalker.

  The flying creatures struck the open skylights at the apex of the ziggurat. With metallic claws they scrabbled on the weathered stones that framed narrow windows. Each creature’s double heads bobbed up and down, hissing and snapping in anticipation.

  Folding their batlike wings against them,
they squirmed through the skylights into the open chamber. Moving together, the creatures descended toward Luke’s helpless body, long talons extended.…

  Luke’s image shimmered but cast no light in the dim chambers where the twins lay sleeping. The door was open. Cilghal sat up studying in her own room across the corridor, but she could not yet hear Luke’s voice. The boy Jacen could—and Luke had no time.

  “Jacen,” he said with his muffled inside-the-head voice. The boy stirred. Beside him Jaina sighed and rolled over in her sleep. “Jacen!” Luke said again. “Jaina, I need your help. Only you can help me.”

  The boy woke up, blinking his dark eyes. He scanned the room, vawned, then fixed his eyes upon Luke’s image. “Uncle Luke?” he said. “Help? Okay.”

  “Wake your sister and follow me. Tell her to raise the alarm and bring all the other Jedi. But you have to help me now! Maybe you can hold them off long enough.”

  Jacen didn’t ask questions. By the time he shook his sister, she had already started to awaken. She too saw Luke, and the boy needed only a few words to explain the situation.

  Jacen trotted down the hall on his little legs. Luke drifted in front of him, urging Jacen faster, faster, toward the turbolift.

  Jaina ran into Cilghal’s quarters and screamed, “Help, help!” at the top of her lungs. “Uncle Luke needs help.” The Jedi trainees surged out of their quarters.

  Suddenly alarms rang out. Luke realized that Artoo, still standing sentry duty in the grand audience chamber, must have triggered them. He didn’t know, though, what the astromech droid could do against the monstrous winged creatures summoned by Exar Kun.

  Jacen hesitated inside the turbolift while Luke showed which button to push. “Hurry, Jacen!” Luke said. The turbolift shot upward and spilled them into the vast, dim chamber.

  Down at the end of the promenade, Artoo hummed back and forth, whistling and warbling shrilly. His arc-welding arm extended, flashing blue sparks, but the reptilian creatures flapped into the air, circling around the sluggish droid as if they considered Artoo to be no threat.