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

by Kevin J. Anderson

  Both Leia and Furgan froze for a moment, staring at each other. Furgan’s eyebrows jerked up in a muscular twitch like birds about to leap into flight.

  The Calamarian rescuers leveled their weapons at Furgan. He held the baby in front of him like a shield.

  “Give Anakin back to me,” Leia said, her voice dripping with greater threat than an entire fleet of Star Destroyers could convey.

  “I’m afraid not,” Furgan said, and wrapped a broad hand around Anakin’s fragile neck. His wild eyes flicked from side to side. “Point your guns away from me, or I’ll snap his neck! I’ve gone through all this to get the Jedi baby, and I’m not going to give him up. He’s my hostage, and the only way he stays alive is for you to let me go.”

  He edged along the tunnel. His back scraped against the rough, lumpy wall. Furgan locked his eyes on the weapons pointed at him, but he held the baby out, squeezing the boy’s throat. “Even if you stun me, I can still crush his windpipe. Drop your weapons!”

  “Back off,” Leia ordered, taking a step backward.

  The Calamarian defenders stepped to the side, clearing a path for Furgan—all except for Terpfen. He stood holding his hands in front of him like sharp claws.

  Furgan saw the swollen, sagging Calamarian head, the tracery of blunt scars—and suddenly recognized him. “So, my little fish, you betrayed me after all. I didn’t think you had the strength of will.”

  “I found the strength,” Terpfen said. He stepped toward Furgan. Anakin continued to squirm in the ambassador’s arms.

  “Stop!” Furgan said. “You have enough on your conscience, little fish. You wouldn’t want to add the death of this baby to it.”

  Terpfen made a low gurgling noise that was some kind of Calamarian snarl. Furgan kept his wild gaze fixed on all those cornering him as he slid backward toward the Spider Walkers and his only escape.

  In his grasp baby Anakin’s deep-brown eyes flashed, as if he were deep in thought.

  Suddenly Furgan cried out as he stumbled against the squarish, waddling power droid that had silently crept up behind him. The power droid gave out a small jolt of electricity, shocking Furgan.

  The ambassador tripped and fell, still holding the child. The power droid shuffled out of the way with a squeal of something like terror.

  As the Calamarian defenders snatched up their weapons again, Terpfen lunged forward to grab the baby out of Furgan’s hands.

  The other Calamarians fired at Furgan, but the squat man rolled across the floor, got to his knees, and launched himself around the corner, moving far faster than Leia would ever have thought possible.

  “After him!” Terpfen cried. He passed baby Anakin to Leia and dashed off in pursuit of Furgan.

  As hot tears flowed from her eyes, Leia hugged her youngest son, trying to find words that would console him—but nothing came to mind, so she just made cooing noises. She sank to the floor, rocking him back and forth.

  Ackbar’s broad feet slapped on the stone floor as he ran deeper into the catacombs. His lungs burned in the dry air, but still he insisted on more speed. He pulled ahead of the others. So far Winter had followed exactly the guidelines he had established for defense of the base.

  He knew from the wreckage outside that the Foreign Intruder Defense Organism had done its job, eliminating half the Spider Walkers before they could breach the blast doors—but it had not been enough. Winter would have proceeded down to trigger the camouflaged assassin droids.

  The other team members clattered behind him. He could smell dust and engine oil in the dry air, and also a sharp, damp smell like copper and smoke—blood.

  The robed form of Winter sprang around the corner, holding a blaster in front of her, ready to fire. But she froze. For just an instant a smile of delight crossed her face. “Ackbar! I knew you would come.”

  Ackbar strode toward her, resting his hand on her arm. “I arrived as fast as I could. You are safe?”

  “For the moment,” she said. “The defenses have eliminated all but two of the intruders, according to my inventory.”

  “Are you certain?” he said.

  “I never forget anything,” Winter said, and Ackbar knew it was true.

  “Leia and the rest of my team should be getting Anakin now,” he said, then continued softly, “We split up so that I could determine if you required assistance.”

  She nodded. The expression on her face softened. “I will not feel comfortable until I see the baby safe.”

  “Let’s go,” Ackbar said, still out of breath. Together they began the long run uphill.

  Terpfen raced feverishly up sloping corridors. His feet were raw, bleeding from running on the textured floor, but still he ran. He didn’t care if this race killed him. He had to get to Furgan before the ambassador escaped.

  Furgan had jerked his controls and made Terpfen reveal damning secrets of the New Republic, forced him to sabotage Ackbar’s B-wing so that it had crashed into the Cathedral of Winds, made him betray the location of the Jedi baby.

  Terpfen would pay his personal debt in any way he could—but Furgan would also have to pay the price.

  With determination coursing through his veins, Terpfen passed the other Calamarian pursuers. Through the dimness he could hear Furgan scurrying forward like a krabbex.

  “Follow!” Terpfen wheezed as he shot past the others. Terpfen leaped over fallen hunks of metal shrapnel, blasted doors that the invading stormtroopers had blown away. He emerged into the landing grotto to find Furgan already scrambling into one of the unoccupied MT-ATs.

  “You can’t escape, Furgan!” Terpfen shouted. He paused to catch his breath against the melted but now cooled hatch.

  Furgan slung one leg over the edge of the Spider Walker and settled himself into its cockpit. His face wrinkled as if someone had scrunched it up from the inside.

  “We already destroyed your Dreadnaught in orbit,” Terpfen said. Finding energy deep within him, he staggered toward the walker. He heard the other troops catching up.

  Furgan looked amazed at the news, but then his face smoothed again with disbelief. “I know better than to trust you, little fish. Your whole life is a lie.”

  Furgan closed the transparisteel canopy. The engines hummed to life. One of the outer blast doors had been completely torn away; the other hung half-open. Wind sighed through the opening. In the clotted purple sky the two larger components of Anoth rode overhead like stone clouds exchanging lightning across the silence of space.

  Terpfen snarled and ran to another Spider Walker. He was a chief starship mechanic. He had helped the Imperials work on their combat vehicles and their Star Destroyers. He could run any equipment—probably better than Furgan himself.

  In his panic Furgan had trouble making all eight of the Walker’s legs move in sequence to make progress across the grotto floor, but he finally plowed ahead, swiveling the laser cannons on the joints of the articulated legs to blast one of the B-wing fighters that stood in the way.

  Terpfen powered up his Spider Walker and slammed down the canopy. The machine had crude controls and sluggish response, nothing at all like the streamlined controls used on Mon Calamari Star Cruisers.

  Furgan’s vehicle approached the large opening at the cliff’s edge, and Terpfen knew from the design of the MT-AT that it could climb straight down the rockface. He didn’t quite know how Furgan would escape once he got to the bottom; he doubted the ambassador had thought that far ahead.

  Terpfen found the fire controls and shot his lasers three times, taking out one joint of the other Walker’s legs. The lower portion of the metal limb sheared off and fell to the grotto floor with a clang.

  Off balance, Furgan’s Walker scuttled in a drunkard’s circle until he managed to compensate for the lost limb. Once again he made for the exit.

  Terpfen saw the powerful blaster cannons slung beneath his cockpit—if he fired both of them in the enclosed grotto, it would obliterate Furgan’s assault transport … but the explosion would also destroy him
and his own Walker, and probably most of the B-wings as well.

  Then Terpfen saw other rescuers streaming into the grotto. Admiral Ackbar himself came from a different entrance and stood with his own team next to a white-clad woman whom he recognized as Leia’s companion Winter.

  He could never fire the blaster cannons now. But he vowed not to let Furgan escape. Working the controls, Terpfen lunged the eight-legged vehicle forward in pursuit just as Furgan’s machine tottered on the edge.

  Ackbar arrived in time to see the beginning of the battle between the two Spider Walkers. Terpfen’s lasers blasted out, striking the ambassador’s MT-AT. Furgan didn’t seem to have a plan, intending only to get away. Terpfen’s Walker scuttled forward. Its clawed footpads struck sparks from the landing-bay floor.

  Terpfen blasted again and again with his lasers. Furgan fired back, but his shot missed, scoring sharp flakes of rock from the grotto wall.

  Terpfen’s MT-AT charged ahead, raising its two front clawed legs, and grabbed the metal limbs of Furgan’s transport, raising it partway off the floor. Furgan’s vehicle reached out with its own legs to grasp the edge of the cave opening, trying to haul itself forward and away.

  Terpfen fired directly at the transparisteel canopy of the cockpit, but the laser shots could not pass through the shielded surface. His Spider Walker grappled with Furgan’s vehicle, four mechanical legs planted firmly on the stone floor, four legs pushing with all his engine’s capacity.

  A large chunk of rock shattered at the claw grip. With a horrible sound of rending, tearing metal, Furgan’s walker finally broke free of the grotto opening.

  Terpfen’s MT-AT pushed forward and forward. Inside the cockpit of the ambassador’s vehicle, Furgan frantically grabbed the controls but did not seem to know which to use.

  Terpfen continued his relentless blasting with the lasers. He shoved Furgan’s walker completely through where the blast door had been blown away and held out the thrashing MT-AT over open space.

  Terpfen released his grip.

  Ambassador Furgan’s multilegged vehicle flailed as it dropped through the air on a long plunge toward the jagged landscape far below. Before the assault vehicle could actually strike the ground, Terpfen fired both of his powerful blaster cannons. The beams blew up Furgan’s MT-AT with a blinding flash just above the spiked rocks.

  And then, inexplicably, Terpfen’s walker continued its own forward motion, moving mechanical legs to drive him over the edge in a suicidal plunge.

  Ackbar instantly knew what Terpfen intended. Not wasting time with a shout that would not be heard, he lunged for the blast-door controls.

  Just as the thrashing metal legs vanished over the lip of the cliff, Ackbar punched the buttons, hoping that the skewed half of the door still functioned just enough. The heavy metal plate crashed down on top of the last footpad of Terpfen’s Spider Walker, pinning it to the cliff and preventing it from falling.

  “Help him!” Ackbar cried.

  The other Calamarians scrambled forward, accompanied by the admiral himself. Secured with a tow cable from one of the B-wings, they lowered themselves over the cliff to open the canopy of Terpfen’s walker. Inside they found him shuddering and nearly unconscious with shock. The team rigged a sling and hauled him to the safety of the grotto.

  Ackbar bent over him, looking stern. He called Terpfen’s name until the scarred Calamarian finally stirred. “You should have let me die,” he said. “My death should have been my punishment.”

  “No, Terpfen,” Ackbar said, “we cannot choose our own punishment. There is still much you can contribute to the New Republic, still a great many things to do before you will be allowed to give up.”

  Ackbar straightened, realizing that those words could just as well apply to himself, after he had run away to hide on the planet Calamari.

  “Your punishment, Terpfen,” he said, “will be to live.”

  23

  The Falcon cruised over the lush treetops of Yavin 4, and Han Solo set the ship down in front of the Great Temple. He bounced down the landing ramp.

  Leia and the twins practically tackled him as they rushed to greet him. “Daddy, Daddy!” Jacen and Jaina cried in peculiarly overlapping voices. Leia, back from Anoth, cradling the one-year-old against her chest, squeezed Han and gave him a long kiss as Anakin played with her hair. The twins jumped up and down against Han’s legs, demanding the attention that was their due.

  “Hello there, little guy!” Han grinned down at Anakin; then he looked deep into Leia’s eyes. “Are you all right? You’ve got a lot of details to tell me. That message you sent wasn’t very explicit.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “You’ll get the whole story, when we have some quiet time, just the two of us. I’m glad all of our children are home to stay, though. We’ll protect them ourselves from now on.”

  “Sounds like a great idea to me,” Han said, then chuckled and shook his head. “Say, weren’t you telling me that I shouldn’t go off and have adventures by myself?”

  Han stepped away from the Falcon as he saw Luke Skywalker striding toward him across the flattened landing grid. Artoo-Detoo puttered along next to him as if reluctant ever to leave his master’s side again.

  “Luke!” Han cried. He ran to give Luke an enthusiastic hug. “Great to see you up and around again. About time you quit napping.”

  Luke clapped him on the back and smiled with dark-ringed eyes that shone with an inner brightness stronger than ever before. As he conquered each seemingly insurmountable obstacle, Luke’s Jedi powers grew greater and greater—but, like Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda, a Jedi Master learned to use his powers even less, relying on wits instead of showmanship.

  In the dense jungle surrounding the Massassi temple a squawking racket boiled up as a gang of woolamanders startled a pair of feathered flying creatures; the woolamanders hurled rotten fruit as the flying creatures flapped into the air, shrieking down at their tormentors.

  Han glanced toward the disturbance, but Luke’s gaze remained fixed on the Falcon, as if held by a powerful magnet. Han turned to look—and stopped.

  Kyp Durron, still wrapped in the slick black cape that Han himself had given him, descended the boarding ramp. His eyes locked on Luke’s, and the two Jedi stared at each other as if psychically linked.

  Han stepped away from Luke, and the Jedi teacher silently walked across the weed-strewn landing grid. Kyp reached the end of the ramp, planted his feet on the soil of Yavin 4 again, and stood looking penitent.

  Han could tell from Kyp’s rigid posture and his set jaw that the young man was terrified at having to face his Jedi Master. Han felt cold, not wanting to be trapped between two people he counted among his dearest friends.

  Leia took the children off to one side, watching the encounter warily. Concern furrowed her brow as she flicked her gaze from her brother to Kyp and back again.

  Luke walked toward his student slowly, as if gliding over the ground. “I knew you would come back, Kyp.”

  Han watched him, and it seemed that Luke had no anger in his bearing, no fury or need for vengeance.

  “Exar Kun is destroyed?” Kyp asked hoarsely, but he knew the answer already.

  “Exar Kun will have no influence on your future training, Kyp. The question is, what will you do with your abilities?”

  Kyp blinked his eyes in shock. “You—you would let me continue my training?”

  Luke’s expression softened further. “I had to witness the death of my first teacher. I also had to confront Darth Vader, my own father. I have done other difficult tasks.

  “I did not plan these things, but each time I passed through the fire of an ordeal such as those, I emerged a more powerful Jedi. You, Kyp, have been thrown into the flames. I must determine whether you have been consumed—or tempered into a great Jedi. Can you forsake the dark side?”

  “I …” Kyp stumbled over his words. “I will try.”

  “No!” Luke shouted with the first glimmering of anger that Han had heard in h
is voice. “There is no try. You must believe you will do it, or you will fail.”

  The jungle fell silent. Kyp hung his head, and his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. The young man’s dark eyes glittered as he looked back up into Luke’s face.

  “I want to be a Jedi,” he said.

  24

  Lando Calrissian felt as if the million-credit reward was burning a hole in his account. He needed to invest it soon.

  It was a new feeling for him to have such a large sum of money and nothing practical to do with it. He had won control of Bespin’s Tibanna gas mines in a sabacc game, and he had served for years as Baron Administrator of Cloud City. He had run metal-mining operations on the superhot planet Nkllon, and now with his huge reward from the blob races on Umgul, Lando saw no reason why he could not make a successful operation out of the spice mines of Kessel.

  “I really appreciate your taking me, Han,” Lando said. He reached over to slap his friend’s shoulder in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon. He knew that Han was not terribly pleased to leave Leia and his children again so soon, even if only for a day to drop him off at Kessel. He suspected, too, that Han was also worried about Chewbacca and the Maw occupation force, who had sent no word since advancing into the black hole cluster. Since the Maw lay near Kessel, Han probably hoped to learn some news.

  “It’ll be worth it, if only to keep you from begging for rides all the time,” Han said, looking in the opposite direction. He glanced out the front viewport. “I still think you’re crazy to want to go to Kessel—even crazier to want to stay there.”

  Ahead, the small planet orbited near its faint sun. The misshapen lump of Kessel had too little gravity to hold its own atmosphere, and so the gases streamed into space like a tenuous mane flowing out from its barren rocky outline. A large moon, on which the alien prison lord Moruth Doole had stationed his garrison of pirates, climbed over the limb of Kessel, emerging from the wispy corona of escaping air.

  “Last time I came here with Chewie,” Han said, shaking his head, “we got shot down. I promised myself I’d never come back—and now it’s only been a couple of months, and here I am again.”