Dark Journey

by Elaine Cunningham

  She glanced at the two villips resting on the Trickster’s console. She reached for the villip that she had painstakingly attuned and stroked it to life. After a moment, the scarred face of Warmaster Tsavong Lah appeared. He recoiled in astonishment at the face his villip revealed.

  “Greetings, Warmaster,” Jaina said in mocking tones. “Remember me? Jacen Solo’s twin sister?”

  “You will be sacrificed to the gods,” the warmaster gritted out, “and then I will tear out your heart with my own hands.”

  “If you still have your own hands, you’re probably not as far up the ladder as you wanted us to think. Put someone else on—someone with real authority and a few more replacement parts.”

  Tsavong Lah growled in fury. “With those words, you have earned yourself much pain.”

  “I take it the Vong don’t get promoted for their conversational skills,” she said. “Let’s see if the priest’s commander can do better.”

  She awakened the second villip, that which formed a link between this ship and the priest’s villip. When a second scarred face came into view, Jaina brushed back her bangs to reveal the mark she’d drawn there—the symbol of Yun-Harla.

  Two voices lifted in outraged howls. “I will bring you in, human,” the younger warrior said, snarling. “This I swear, by all the gods, by my domain and my sacred honor.”

  Jaina passed a hand over the villips. Both inverted at once.

  A Yuuzhan Vong fighter streamed toward her, and all others moved aside to let it pass.

  Jaina reached for the energy that she had found within, that which hurled the dark lightning. She allowed it to flood her and direct her battle.

  She sank deeper into the consciousness of the alien ship, losing herself in flight as she had always done. For what seemed like hours she and her challenger darted and spun, trading bolts of plasma, dodging and blocking like swordmasters. Jaina did not think—she acted.

  For a while this seemed to be an effective strategy, but her identification with the living ship was too powerful. A plasma bolt slipped back the dovin basal shields and scorched along the side of the ship. Jaina jolted, screaming, as an unexpected searing pain raced down her left arm. She was surprised to see no physical damage there.

  Barely conscious, she began to slide completely into the darkness. Again she fell back in time, into the terrifying duel at the Shadow Academy. Again she fought Darth Vader, but this time she could not prevail.

  Her opponent stepped back and ripped off the black helmet, revealing Kyp Durron’s face. Light seemed to fill him as they continued to fight, pushing aside the remnants of his dark disguise and then tentatively reaching out to her.

  Jaina felt the mingled joy and pain of Kyp’s long, slow redemption, the isolation of his long years of restitution. She felt his regret for selfishly endangering the one person who could become all that he himself would never achieve.

  And with absolute certainty, she knew that Kyp was wrong—she was not the one. The path to a different understanding of the Force was not her journey to take.

  Another truth came to her, and she could no longer deny the nature of the path she had taken. It seemed strange, ironic, that Kyp Durron would be the one to try to save her.

  An answer came to her, along with the image of Kyp’s wry smile. Did you ever think that you might be the one who’s saving me? Come on back. We’ll figure this out together.

  Slowly, she began to battle her way back toward the light. Kyp faded away, and her opponent took on Khalee Lah’s face and form. Jaina fought fiercely, but every blow she landed took a toll on her own body.

  Gradually she became aware of an array of lights taking focus before her. An insistent voice droned through her comm, dragging her into awareness. The ship’s console blinked frantically as luminous creatures warned of massive system failure.

  “Jaina, fall back. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

  The voice, and the power it held, jolted her back to consciousness. Jaina’s hands were still on the controls, still firing the weapons—her connection with the ship remained. After a startled moment, she realized that Kyp had been talking to her through the comm system Lowbacca had installed.

  Or perhaps he had been speaking through her vision.

  Jaina glanced at the warrior’s ship, which was circling around for another attack. The Trickster jolted as her opponent’s dovin basal got a lock on her ship.

  An X-wing streaked between them, sending a steady barrage at the Yuuzhan Vong fighter—and heading directly into the gravitic pull.

  Suddenly freed, Jaina swept around to back up her rescuer. But the X-wing had taken a hit. It spiraled off, a comet followed by a tail of burning fuel. The ship exploded in a sharp white flare.

  She reached out and felt the familiar presence—Kyp had gone EV in time. She wheeled around, leaving her vengeance unfinished, her questions unanswered.

  She set course for her Jedi Master, and the shared path before them.

  EPILOGUE

  The night skies over Hapes’s royal city still bled and strobed as Jaina set the Trickster down on the docks. She looked up, feeling no regret at being forced out of the battle before its conclusion.

  This was not her fight, her path. Teneniel Djo’s legacy had arrived, and under the command of Jag Fel it was swiftly pushing back the Yuuzhan Vong. Jaina had seen that much as she maneuvered the wounded Jedi Master aboard her ship.

  She saw Kyp safely off the ship and arranged for medical treatment. Then she turned to face what she had become.

  Ta’a Chume was in the palace, under house arrest pending investigation into Teneniel Djo’s death. She rose quickly as Jaina entered the room, and her eyes swept the girl’s flight suit.

  “The battle?”

  “We’re winning.”

  “You should be commanding it.”

  Jaina shrugged. “Colonel Fel is doing just fine. Queen Mother Tenel Ka knows how to pick people.”

  Ta’a Chume received this news in silence. “With my help, you could have been a great queen.”

  Jaina sniffed and folded her arms. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

  “What about your vows of vengeance?”

  “I’m not adding you to the list, if that’s your concern. It’s over,” she stated. “All of it. I know what I am—a fighter, the sister and the daughter of heroes.”

  Something changed in the former queen’s face. “I am seldom mistaken, but now I see that you are a fool, like your mother before you.”

  She continued in this vein, and was ranting still when Jaina left the palace.

  Tenel Ka awaited her outside the secured rooms. “They say that anger is of the dark side,” she said somberly. “ ‘They,’ of course, have never met Ta’a Chume.”

  Jaina smiled faintly, and then noticed the tentative humor in her friend’s eyes. On impulse, she folded her friend in an embrace. Tenel Ka’s strong arm came up to encircle her.

  “It won’t be easy,” the new queen said. “Not for me, not for you. I suspect that your road may be more difficult than mine. At least you will not be alone.”

  Jaina pulled away. “Neither will you.”

  Tenel Ka’s only response was a faint smile. She lifted her hand, a somber, regal gesture, and then walked away. Her bearing was proud and her step quick. Her determination came through the Force, and with it, a sense of desolation so intense that it brought tears to Jaina’s eyes.

  Jaina swiftly pulled her emotions back under control. It was this very thing—her empathy for her friends and brothers—that had gotten her into trouble in the first place. The way she saw it, she had a long road back from what she’d become, and she couldn’t afford any detours.

  And as she strode back to her ship, she considered the road ahead. She’d have to face all the friends who had warned her, the family who had worried. At every turn, people would question her. She would have to make people believe that the dark side had no part in her actions, her decisions. The most difficult p
erson to convince, she suspected, would be herself.

  Kyp Durron was already at the docks, loading supplies into a Hapan light freighter. A bacta patch covered his forehead.

  “Never thought you’d get here,” he said. “It’s almost time to go.”

  “Go?” Jaina echoed.

  “We’re taking some supplies to the Jedi base. Your mother asked me to bring you.”

  A pang touched Jaina’s heart as she thought of what news of her slide would do to Leia. “Mom already lost two of her kids.”

  “I’ll get you back.”

  She turned her eyes to Kyp’s somber green gaze. With great effort, she lowered the shields that had kept her locked away. Perhaps there was one person who could understand, one person she wouldn’t have to lock out.

  After a moment, he tossed her a box of rations. She tucked it into the hold and turned for another. They worked together, falling into an easy rhythm. Soon the ship was loaded, and the Jedi Master and his apprentice strapped into their seats.

  “So what’s next?” she asked as they settled down.

  “What do you want to do?”

  Jaina considered this. She had always been confident—impulsive, even cocky. That was tempered now by deep humility in the power of the Force. “I’ll keep flying, of course, but I’m not sure the Rogues will have me.”

  “Then why not continue the path you’ve started? There’s a place for a trickster in the resistance. You’re quick with a plan, you have a knack for strategy.”

  She tried the idea on, and the fit felt about right. “Not bad,” she admitted. “And you?”

  Kyp gave her a slightly sheepish smile. “I’m going to work toward the establishment of a Jedi Council, to building consensus instead of discord.”

  She burst out laughing. “I’ve seen my mother struggle with such things. Trust me, this might prove to be your biggest challenge yet!”

  He shrugged. “Neither of us need things to be easy. And on that note, I hear that Jag Fel has arranged a meeting with your uncle Luke. If there’s a Jedi offensive on the horizon, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he’s at the heart of it.”

  A quick, glad surge lifted Jaina’s heart. Wistfully, she wondered if someday she could merit the friendship of someone like Jag, someone whose gaze, like Leia’s, never seemed to swerve from a hero’s path.

  If Kyp picked up on Jaina’s thoughts, he was tactful enough not to let on. “You ready?”

  She responded with a firm nod, and then turned her eyes to the challenges ahead.

  Khalee Lah strode into Harrar’s chamber and dropped to one knee.

  “The battle was a failure,” he said bluntly. “The Jeedai escaped. It would seem that I was infected with the heresy, or the gods would have allowed me to die in glorious battle. My failure can only serve to tarnish my domain. The name of the warmaster, whom you name friend.”

  The priest absorbed this in silence. This request went far past hinting. In response, he reached for the mechanical abomination and handed it to the warrior.

  “I will report to Tsavong Lah that his kinsman died in battle, through the trickery of the Jeedai, sacrificed by his own men. Put this upon your ship, and it will be so.”

  Khalee Lah bowed his head and accepted the device. He rose and strode from the room.

  Left alone, Harrar took his villip and reported to Tsavong Lah what he had promised to say. “Jaina Solo proved to be a far more worthy foe than anticipated,” he concluded, “and it may be some time before the twin sacrifice can go forward.”

  “The gods willed it so,” Tsavong Lah said. “Continue pursuit, and we will speak of this matter again.”

  The villip inverted abruptly, leaving Harrar deep in speculation. His failure was not dealt with as harshly as he expected, and the priest of deception wondered if perhaps he was not the only one who had failed.

  Was it possible, he wondered, that Jacen Solo might not have survived, after all?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A former music and history teacher, Elaine Cunningham has written 15 fantasy novels and many short stories. She is currently co-writing a book with Forgotten Realms creator Greenwood, and is also working on Shadows in the Darkness, the first book of a new dark fantasy series in a contemporary urban setting. In her free time, she plays Celtic harp and Irish fiddle, reads Arthurian lore and Scottish history, and works in her gardens. She lives in a coastal New England town with her family and a pair of eccentric Siamese cats. Visit Elaine’s website at www.ElaineCunningham.com

  Also by Elaine Cunningham

  Forgotten Realms: Songs and Swords

  ELFSHADOW

  ELFSONG

  SILVER SHADOWS

  THE DREAM SPHERES

  THORNHOLD

  Forgotten Realms: Counselors and Kings

  THE MAGEHOUND

  FLOODGATE

  THE WIZARDWAR

  Forgotten Realms

  EVERMEET: ISLAND OF THE ELVES

  Forgotten Realms: Starlight and Shadows

  DAUGHTER OF THE DROW

  TANGLED WEBS

  WINDWALKER

  Spelljammer: The Cloakmaster’s Cycle

  THE RADIANT DRAGON (book 4 of 6)

  First Quest

  THE UNICORN HUNT

  STAR WARS—The Expanded Universe

  You saw the movies. You watched the cartoon series, or maybe played some of the video games. But did you know …

  In The Empire Strikes Back, Princess Leia Organa said to Han Solo, “I love you.” Han said, “I know.” But did you know that they actually got married? And had three Jedi children: the twins, Jacen and Jaina, and a younger son, Anakin?

  Luke Skywalker was trained as a Jedi by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda. But did you know that, years later, he went on to revive the Jedi Order and its commitment to defending the galaxy from evil and injustice?

  Obi-Wan said to Luke, “For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times. Before the Empire.” Did you know that over those millennia, legendary Jedi and infamous Sith Lords were adding their names to the annals of Republic history?

  Yoda explained that the dreaded Sith tend to come in twos: “Always two, there are. No more, no less. A Master, and an apprentice.” But did you know that the Sith didn’t always exist in pairs? That at one time in the ancient Republic there were as many Sith as Jedi, until a Sith Lord named Darth Bane was the lone survivor of a great Sith war and created the “Rule of Two”?

  All this and much, much more is brought to life in the many novels and comics of the Star Wars expanded universe. You’ve seen the movies and watched the cartoon. Now venture out into the wider worlds of Star Wars!

  Turn the page or jump to the timeline of Star Wars novels to learn more.

  ONE

  One Month Ago, Pyria System:

  Borleias Occupation, Day 1

  “A god cannot die,” Charat Kraal said. “Therefore it can have no fear of death. So who is braver, a god or a mortal?”

  Charat Kraal was a pilot of the Yuuzhan Vong—humanoid, a little over two meters in height. His skin, where it was not covered by geometric tattoos, was pale, marked everywhere by the white, slightly reflective lines of old scars. Some years-ago mishap had eaten away the center of his face, eliminating even the diminutive nose common to the Yuuzhan Vong, leaving behind brown-crusted cartilage and horizontal holes into his sinus passages. His forehead angled back less dramatically than many of the Yuuzhan Vong and looked a trifle more like the forehead of a human, for which two warriors had taunted him, for which he had killed them. He disguised the trait as much as he could by yanking out the last of the hair on his head and adding skulltop tattoos that drew the eye up and back, away from the offending forehead. One day he would earn an implant that would further mask his deformity and end his problem.

  He wore an ooglith cloaker, the transparent environment suit of Yuuzhan Vong pilots, over a simple warrior’s loincloth. Both garments w
ere living creatures, engineered and bred to perform only the tasks demanded of them, to aid the Yuuzhan Vong in their pursuit of glory.

  He sat in the cockpit of his coralskipper, the irregular rocklike space fighter of his kind, but he did not wear his cognition hood at the moment; the masklike creature that kept him in mental contact with his craft, that allowed him to sense with its senses and pilot it with the agility of thought rather than muscle and reaction, was set to the side while his coralskipper cruised on routine patrol.

  He and his mission partner, Penzak Kraal, were in distant orbit above the world Borleias. The planet had been recently seized from the infidels native to this galaxy so that it could be used as a staging area for the Yuuzhan Vong assault on the galactic throneworld of Coruscant. Borleias was an agreeably green world, not overgrown with the dead, crusty dwellings of the infidels, not strewn with their unnatural implements of technology; only a military base, now smashed, had affronted the Yuuzhan Vong with evidence of infidel occupation.

  The voice of Penzak Kraal emerged from the small, head-shaped villip mounted on the cockpit wall just beneath the canopy. Though most coralskippers were not equipped with villips, relying instead on the telepathic signals of yammosk war coordinators for all their communications, long-distance patrol craft did call for a means for direct communications. “Don’t be an idiot. If a god is the god of bravery, then by definition he must be braver than any Yuuzhan Vong, than anything living.”

  “I wonder. Let us say then that you could become immortal as the gods, and never die, but remain one of the Yuuzhan Vong. You would never face death. Could you then be as brave as the Yuuzhan Vong? You could kill forever but never truly risk death, defy death, choose your time and place of death. Which is better, to be brave for a lifetime or to kill forever?”