Star Wars: I, Jedi

by Michael A. Stackpole

  To either side of us, stairs doubled back up to the next level. I took the glowrod from Kam and played the light over the stairs going down and the two sets heading up. “Dust looks fairly undisturbed. If Gantoris came in here, he was floating himself along, and I don’t think he was quite that good.”

  “Maybe this landing is just as far as he got.” Brakiss shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe he didn’t dare go any further.”

  “I don’t believe that.” Kam pointed with his lightsaber toward the stairs going up. “Shall we?”

  Brakiss smiled. “This is what we came for, after all.”

  Kam led the way. Our footfalls echoed dryly through the Temple and my flesh began to crawl as we ascended. From having read Unnh’s survey report, we knew what to expect, and the anticipation had me a little scared. Knowing there was evil afoot and heading toward the reason General Dodonna had ordered the place sealed, I felt we were courting disaster.

  Proving I was a true Halcyon, however, I had no intention of retreating.

  The stairs came out onto another landing that served as a foyer for the Temple’s Grand Audience Chamber. The sharply sloped outer walls came together high above the chamber floor to form the ceiling. Three towers set equidistant down the chamber’s midline came to a point well below the roof’s apex, yet somehow seemed to be holding the roof aloft nonetheless. The corneal tower nearest us and its companion at the far end of the chamber were covered in rings of odd runes and sigils that I couldn’t identify, much less read. Window-slits in the west wall let sunlight paint golden bars down the length of the floor, providing a warm glow for the room.

  As warm as that glow was, however, it did little to dispel the chill I felt coming from the Temple’s main and most disturbing feature.

  The third tower—also a tall, narrow cone—had been shaped entirely out of a blue crystal. I would have almost called it sapphire, because it did glow with its own internal light, but the light did not shift as we moved closer. Instead it seemed more to flow as if it were a liquid bubbling up and around inside the crystal, swirling in some great cycle.

  “The Sullustan said the stone feels oily, and you can feel the tingle of energy pulsing off it.” Brakiss nibbed his hands together. “Care to confirm the veracity of that report?”

  I shivered. “Not me. Not yet.”

  Kam extinguished the blade on his lightsaber and clipped it back to his belt. “I’ll take a pass. You probably ought not to touch it either.”

  Brakiss frowned. “You’re no fun.”

  “Touching that thing will not be fun.” I walked closer to it, being careful not to step into the circular pit surrounding it. The nearer I drew to it, the colder I felt. The energy pulsing out of it was not palpably evil, but I could sense a host of negative emotions like despair and anger. Worse yet, as I stared into the translucent stone’s depths, I saw ghostly images drifting past. Some seemed utterly unfamiliar: gangling creatures with clawed hands and feet. Others were more familiar, often human, with their faces destroyed by damage or just contorted in agony. Even so, I thought I recognized some of them. A few comrades who had fallen along the way, more enemies I had slain.

  Then Gantoris’ face appeared and stared at me with dead eyes.

  I jerked back and pointed. “Do you see it? Do you see Gantoris?”

  Kam’s head snapped around to look at me, his eyes slowly focusing. “I didn’t see him. I saw … others.”

  The hint of a smile played over Brakiss’ face as he turned toward us. “I really didn’t see much of anything.”

  I glanced back at the stone and Gantoris’ image had vanished. “I could have sworn I saw him.”

  Brakiss shrugged. “Trick of the light.” His voice came weightlessly, scourging me with a hint of scorn.

  I fixed him with an emerald stare. “You still want to touch it?”

  He shook his head. “No, that’s okay.”

  Kam wore a grim expression. “I don’t know what this thing is or why it is, but I do know I’m not comfortable here.” He jerked a thumb at the lightbars on the floor. “And the way the sunlight moved between when we started looking and now, we were staring into that thing for a good fifteen minutes.”

  I shook my head. “Not possible.”

  “Very possible. Very odd.” Kam frowned heavily. “I’m all for leaving.”

  Brakiss agreed. “No sign Gantoris was ever here.”

  “Right. Let’s go, then.”

  It wouldn’t really do to suggest that three grown men, Jedi apprentices all and two of them armed with lightsabers, fled from an uninhabited temple. I prefer to think of it as our having moved quickly to upset the plans of anyone preparing to ambush us. The fact that we didn’t know of anyone else being on the world save our friends still didn’t preclude that possibility and I thought our caution quite admirable.

  As we retreated from it, Brakiss took one long look back at the Blueleaf Temple. “It’s rather amazing, I think, that creatures lacking in sophisticated technology could build such a monument and have it stand the test of time. Unnh’s commentary suggests these ruins were all millennia old.”

  “The Old Republic was well established by that time.” I held a branch back, opening the way to the trail that had brought us to the temple. “For all we know they could have used lasers to quarry the rock and carve it, then slid it into place with repulsorlift technology.”

  “Moreover,” Kam offered, “they could have used the Force. As massive as those blocks are, do you think it would be impossible for Master Skywalker to move them?”

  “Impossible for him to move them, no, not at all.” I heard doubt in Brakiss’ voice. “I don’t know that I believe Master Skywalker could create a temple like that, however.”

  I laughed. “Have you forgotten, ‘size matters not?’ ”

  “I haven’t forgotten it at all, but that’s not my point.” Brakiss snapped a dead branch from a Massassi sapling and broke himself off a forty-centimeter length of it. “Master Skywalker might have the power, but he’s a farm boy from some desiccated, silicon ball. He would be incapable of creating such a work of vision and elegance.”

  As Brakiss spoke he waved the stick through the air. Kam and I exchanged secret smiles behind his back, then Kam cleared his voice. “So you don’t think Master Skywalker could learn to create something like that?”

  “Certainly he could, but it would take him forever.”

  “I see.” I narrowed my eyes. “And the crystal cone, could he create one of those?”

  Brakiss’ shoulders twitched through a shrug. “I don’t know, but I would love to try. I think that crystal was incredible. I’d hesitate to call it a work of art because it was unsettling.” He turned around, his eyes ablaze. “Imagine having the power to be able to create such a thing.”

  “Wouldn’t want it.” Kam shook his head. “I didn’t like the crystal at all.”

  “Yes, but imagine the power to make something like it, something you would like. Using the Force to create a work that would endure for so long.” Brakiss laughed aloud and spun as if dancing to some music neither Kam nor I could hear. “It would be fantastic.”

  I gave him a hard cold look, but he didn’t notice. “The lure of that sort of power can be seductive, but it’s not easy to come by.”

  “Unless you resort to the dark side.” Kam hunched his shoulders forward. “I know what it is like, and as exhilarating as it can be, it leaves you hollow. Better to work for the true Force than settle for its shadow.”

  “Yes, but think of what you can do with that power.” Brakiss thrust his stick up toward the sky. “A Jedi Master with enough power could have reached up from here and have torn the heart out of the Death Star. Wouldn’t have mattered if he was using the dark side, he would have done a good thing.”

  I reached out and grabbed the back of Brakiss’ neck. “Wait just one minute. What you’re saying is that the ends justify the means for attaining them, and that’s just plain wrong. It’s as wrong as anything
because it allows you to rationalize away any behavior as good. Sure, let’s murder this criminal because we know he’s killed folks in the past, or probably will kill them in the future. Or let’s destroy this planet because we know, someday, it will slam into that planet. So what if folks on the planet we destroy die—they would have died anyway, and with our way the folks on the other world are saved.”

  Brakiss spun and nearly slashed my face with his stick. Fortunately for me I’d had forewarning about the arc of his arm and ducked beneath it. A momentary mask of anger slipped over his face, but it almost immediately dissolved into shock and remorse. “Keiran, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Brakiss. No blood, no report.”

  Kam came around and draped an arm rather heavily over Brakiss’ shoulders. “What Keiran’s telling you is right, kid. People start telling themselves they’re amassing power for this goal or that, and they convince themselves that it’s a good thing. Then when they get enough they find circumstances have changed. They find they need more power or they need to wield this power in ways they didn’t expect before. An opponent who won’t listen to reason becomes a bug to be squashed instead of a friend who just needs to be convinced. Power comes to poison those who hoard it. They assume others want their power, will resort to any means to get it, and that frees folks up to retaliate in any way they can.”

  I nodded. “And there’s no good that comes from evil. Your example of someone using dark-side power to destroy the Death Star is fine until you ask why he would do that. Is it for his own good, and that of his people? If so, how will he deal with the next threat to them? If he hears of another Death Star and knows someone like the Caamasi are building it, does he destroy them?”

  Kam frowned. “Bad example. Everyone knows the Caamasi were committed pacifists.”

  “I know, Kam, but someone could rationalize them as evil and go after them.” I opened my hands. “Face it, someone did go after them and nearly wiped out the whole lot of them. I even heard there was a big Caamasi refugee group on Alderaan when it was destroyed. If someone could have seen the Caamasi as a threat, they could have seen anyone as a threat. A child. Anyone.”

  Brakiss furrowed his brows. “I hear what you are saying and I want to believe you. Part of me says, though, that you can’t argue an absolute case that no good can come from wielding dark-side powers. There has to be a time when that could happen.”

  “That’s theory, Brakiss, but we’ve got to deal with the practical realities of manipulating the Force.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to entertain the idea that I could remain uncorrupted by dealing with evil for what I see as a good purpose. That’s setting the first foot on a very steep and slippery slope. Maybe, with the help of Master Skywalker, it would be possible to get back to the top, but someone will pay a fearful price during my descent, and I don’t want to inflict that on anyone. Neither should you.”

  SIXTEEN

  A quick blast from the transport’s landing jets lifted debris on a searing wind that made some of the other apprentices duck back or raise their hands to shield their faces. I pulled the heat in and immediately used that energy to impose a tiny Force shield before me. It split the wind and saved me the annoyance of having to blink grit from my eyes and spit dirt from my mouth.

  The boxy transport touched down as gently as a feather, but I expected no less from the pilot at the helm. As it settled on its landing struts and the passenger compartment gangway slowly lowered, the apprentices moved in behind Master Skywalker. Kam directed all of them but me to the opening cargo hatch. I walked over by Luke and smiled as Wedge descended from the ship’s interior.

  Luke waved a greeting at Wedge and the blue-skinned woman following in his wake. The bright-eyed young man coming third down the gangway won a smile from Luke. “Welcome, Kyp Durron.”

  The wiry youth returned Luke’s smile. “I’m ready, Master Skywalker. Teach me the Jedi ways.”

  “It will be my pleasure.” Luke waved him toward the line of folks hauling supplies from the transport’s cargo hold. “We will start by unloading the ship. Keiran, if you will see to General Antilles’ and Qwi Xux’s comfort.”

  “As you wish, Master.” I smiled at Wedge and waved him toward the Great Temple. “You will find our accommodations are a bit less primitive than they were when last you dropped off supplies. This way, please.”

  Wedge nodded solemnly. “It appears you have made much progress.”

  Qwi Xux fell into step with Wedge. “Wedge, could you tell me, please, when we will meet this friend of yours that you were anxious to see again?”

  Wedge looked about to see we were out of earshot of the others, then his smile broadened warmly. “You have, Doctor Xux. Qwi Xux, meet Corran Horn.”

  The alien woman frowned. “But Master Skywalker called him Keiran.”

  Wedge nodded. “He is here under an alias for a variety of reasons. Corran, this is Qwi Xux.”

  I turned in mid-stride and bowed my head to her. The friendly tone in Wedge’s voice when he introduced her made me wonder if I shouldn’t offer her my hand, but I felt reluctant to do so. As brilliant as she was beautiful, she had been a key researcher in the Maw installation—the Imperial think-tank that had created the Death Stars, the World Devastators that had ravaged Mon Calamari and the starfighter-sized, invincible Sun Crusher that Kyp Durron had just sunk into the depths of Yavin for safe-keeping. What little gossip we got out here suggested that she had been an unwilling dupe of the Imperials, someone only interested in pure research. That might well have been true, but I had to wonder how someone so bright could fail to notice all the projects she worked on had hideous names and could be so incredibly lethal.

  “Welcome to Yavin 4.” I pointed toward the sky. “The first Death Star died up there before it could destroy this place.”

  A hint of pain passed through Wedge’s eyes as I spoke, but Qwi just turned to look up toward where I had pointed. “Most of the debris would have fallen into the gas giant, I would suspect, but some must have impacted here.” She looked at me with open cerulean eyes. “Have you found such debris?”

  I shook my head. “Haven’t been looking. There was an Imperial survey team or two here after the Rebellion abandoned the planet, so I would assume they collected what they could for analysis.”

  “Pity.”

  “Right.” I led the two of them into the Great Temple and took the turbolift to the second level. “Here we have refresher stations and rooms for you, if you wish to catch up on sleep. I can also get you food.”

  The doctor smiled. “I would like a quick nap, if that is acceptable.”

  Wedge nodded. “I’ll check in with you in an hour, how’s that?”

  She nodded. “Good. Nice to meet you, Cor … er, Keiran.”

  “Sleep well, Doctor Xux.” I pointed her to the room I’d prepared for her earlier, then steered Wedge toward the room I’d prepped for him.

  Inside Wedge appropriated a chair and sat, tilting it back so it rested against the wall and his feet dangled above the floor. “You don’t like her, do you?”

  I caught just a hint of pique in Wedge’s voice. “Don’t know her well enough to form an opinion, but her playthings have made quite an impression. Maybe because you helped destroy two of them you have a different perspective on her, but I’d not consider myself a big fan of her work.”

  “She really didn’t know what she was getting into, what they were doing with her research.”

  “Are you sure? The code names should have told her what was going on. She should have at least asked herself what would happen if by mistake, these things were used on inhabited planets. We have life-sign sensors. How tough would it have been to put a life-sensor interlock on the Death Star so it couldn’t kill Alderaan?” I found anger creeping into my voice and raised both of my hands. “I shouldn’t have said that, sorry.”

  Wedge glanced down at his hands. “Don’t be. Nothing I haven’t asked myself a million times since I started acting as her
bodyguard. When she’s around, when I speak with her, she’s just so bright and innocent—the antithesis of the Death Star and the World Devastators and the Sun Crusher. I think she thought the Sun Crusher would be used to eliminate beta stars from binary systems to provide system stability or to clear uninhabited systems from navigational routes.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Oh, no. You like her.”

  Wedge’s head came up. “What?”

  I whirled the room’s other chair around and dropped into it, letting my chest press against its back. “You’re supposed to be her bodyguard and you’re falling for her.”

  “You’d like her if you’d spend more time around her.”

  “Don’t do it, Wedge, don’t do it.”

  He glanced over at me, letting a sloppy grin tug at one corner of his mouth. “Why not? Wouldn’t this be a final reconciliation of the Rebels and the Imperials?”

  “Wedge, I’m speaking from experience.” I sagged forward against the chair-back. “When I was with CorSec I had several assignments where I was to see to the personal safety of someone important. In fact, I once had to deal with your sister on a visit to Corellia. Didn’t know she was your sister at the time, however.”

  “If you’re going to tell me you fell for my sister while guarding her, I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Nope, not her. It was the daughter of the shipping magnate who owned Tinta Lines. She was the target of a kidnapper. Of course, when I was guarding someone, we found a hole and crawled in, didn’t gallivant around the galaxy.”

  “Moving target is harder to hit.”

  “Good point.” I smiled. “Anyway, Siolle Tinta and I got along famously once we discovered we shared similar opinions about art. In close quarters, we reinforced each other’s ideas and it quickly became us against the world. On the outside, Iella nailed the kidnapper, so we only spent three days together, but if you’d asked me at the end of that time if it was love and lasers for life, I would have told you all systems were go.”