I kept careful track of what information moved through the conduit from Streen to Exar Kun and found I really needed to inject very little into it, or edit very little from it. Twelve half-trained apprentices and two toddlers planning to annihilate someone who had survived an onslaught by the combined might of the Jedi of his age sounded ridiculous on the surface of it. Tionne carefully told us how our own little council mirrored that of the Great Council of Deneba, when the Jedi united to defeat Kun. She made it sound grand and hopeful, but with only a little push I was able to make it sound hopeless.
I let Streen fill Kun with our resolve to unite and defeat him, but Kun’s contempt for us came rolling back along the line like an echo. He had faced fleets of ships and all the known Jedi. He had slain his own master. His power was unrivaled. He had defeated our Master and beyond our resolve to fight, we had no operative plans and nothing with which to challenge him. We were snacks he would devour at his leisure, not morsels that might choke him.
His connection to Streen atrophied and died as various of us offered plans that wouldn’t trap a stintaril.
My quiet laughter from the corner brought Cilghal’s head around. “This is hardly a matter that is amusing, Keiran. If you will not contribute …”
I stood and narrowed my eyes. “I’ll contribute. You’ve plotted the right course: uniting is the only way to get him. That’s good.”
Brakiss sniffed. “We’re pleased you approve.”
I ignored his comment. “What you’ve missed is the key. Streen, what do you call him?”
The prospector raked fingers back through his frizzy grey hair. “The Dark Man.”
“Right. Master Skywalker described him to me as a shadow, and that was close to what Gantoris reported as well.” I watched Kam carefully. “And that’s what I saw the one time he came to recruit me.”
Kam’s head came up. “So, what is your point?”
“My point is that he’s a creature of shadow, a creature of the dark side. What has Master Skywalker drilled into us since day one?”
Kirana Ti’s eyes widened. “The antidote to the dark side is the light side.”
“Right. It will have to shine so brightly no shadow can withstand it.” I looked around at all of them. “That’s your job. When he comes for Luke again, you give him more light than he can ever handle.”
The Mon Calamari Ambassador cocked her head at me. “Our job? You must be with us, be part of our united force.”
“Not going to happen.” I leaned forward, holding myself up by posting my arms on the table. “Up to this point, Exar Kun has acted on his own schedule. He’s moved when he wants to move, done what he’s wanted to do. Not anymore. Tomorrow evening, as night is coming on, we’ll force him to act. He won’t be ready, but he’ll think he can still beat us. He’ll be wrong.”
Tionne regarded me with her pearl eyes. “What are you going to do?”
I shook my head. “You can’t know, just as I can’t know exactly what you want to do. The key is that when we move,” I pointed at Streen, “he’ll be guarding Luke Skywalker’s body.”
“Streen?” Kam shook his head adamantly. “Impossible.”
“Me?” Streen looked stricken.
“You, Streen. You’re going to be just like the winds you summoned the other night. You’re going to seem weak, but you’ll be strong. You won’t break, you’ll hold.” I smiled. “You’ll all hold.”
The Dathomiri witch watched me carefully. “You make it sound as if you will go after Exar Kun by yourself. You know it will be impossible to stand against him alone.”
Dorsk 81 nodded. “He defeated Master Skywalker. Your mission will be impossible.”
“Could be.” I smiled, remembering similar assessments of missions with Rogue Squadron. “Then again, I’ve been to the land of the impossible before. If we all do our parts, I may even survive another little visit there.”
TWENTY-FIVE
I used the Headhunter’s blasters to burn back enough jungle at the edge of the lake to provide me with a landing site, then I set the fighter down. The landing was a touch rougher than I would have liked. Given that the belly cargo compartment contained a dozen nergon 14 charges all ready to go, I should have focused more on flying, but I couldn’t. Using the same technique Luke had showed Streen to shield his mind against picking up the thoughts of others, I was keeping my presence within the Force as undetectable as I could. I found it tiring, but took heart from the fact that Exar Kun likewise liked to remain hidden, and had to expend portions of his power to do so as well.
I climbed out of the fighter and opened the cargo compartment. I shouldered two packs with the explosives in them, gingerly shifting them about to let me maintain good balance. All I needed was to get careless and slip on my way to my destination. Do that and our war against Exar Kun will be lost before it even starts.
I looked out across the expanse of the lake at the small island centered in it. An obsidian pyramid with smooth sides had been erected there, then a wedge had been chopped out of the center of it. From the shore, the interior angles drew my attention to a massive statue of a man. I was too far away to discern much in the way of detail, but I had no doubt I looked upon Exar Kun—if for no other reason than that someone of his ego never would have let a statue to another be raised on his world.
I knew this is where I would find him. The clues had been painfully easy to put together. Dorsk 81 had reported traveling in this direction, but the survey logs that Kyp Durron had prepared showed no trip here. What little information about this place that had been recorded by the Rebel scout Unnh indicated that he found it unsettling and likely a monument to some ancient lord. The fact that it had escaped the ravages of time further suggested it was a focus for Kun’s power. In addition, when I’d plotted the direction from which Kun’s power had flowed the other evening, the two courses crossed over this location.
And, as if I needed more proof, I really didn’t feel like marching in there.
I frowned at myself. “You’ve survived having Booster Terrik for a father-in-law, you can survive this.”
The water surrounding the island picked up orange highlights from the gas giant, but the system’s dying sun still streaked it with jets of gold. I moved forward, stepping on the first of the stones set bare centimeters beneath the surface of the water. One misstep would plunge me deep into the pond’s icy depths, so I moved cautiously. I watched where I placed my feet and had a moment of grudging admiration for Exar Kun. By making the pathway to his shrine so tricky and difficult, he forced all who approached him to do so with bowed heads so they could watch their feet.
Ripples spread out from my every step and lapped against the far shore, but they provided the only activity I saw over there. This pleased me because I was really in no position to deal with Kun’s winged terrors. The fact that Jacen Solo, though not quite yet three years old, had managed to hold a trio of them at bay with his uncle’s lightsaber did not make me think my chances would be good in dealing with them. Though I thought myself more nimble than a toddler, with thirty kilos of explosives hanging on my back like lead wings, graceful wasn’t going to describe me at all.
I reached the island’s shore without opposition and mounted the steps to the temple. Sith hieroglyphs had been incised into the stones, still as crisp and sharp as the day the Massassi had carved them. The Sullustan scout had translated some of them as magics to preserve the temple, and others to call down doom on defilers. Somehow the Massassi script, with hooks and barbs on each glyph, seemed more menacing than any curses they could call down.
Once inside the pyramid I worked quickly, distributing the nergon 14 charges and arming them. I tried to put them near structural points that would promote the collapse of the whole building, but with that massive sort of block construction, I couldn’t be certain it would work. The detonators could either be set for a time and triggered manually, or keyed by remote through codes I could broadcast from the Headhunter’s comm unit. Having se
en the results produced by such charges in the past, I didn’t want to be anywhere nearby when they went off.
The last charge I brought forward like a sacrificial offering. I paced quickly across the open courtyard and laid it at the base of the pedestal on which Exar Kun’s colossal statue stood. I made certain to wedge the charge tightly against the base and the floor, so when it went off it would open enough of a crater to topple the statue. I measured the height of the pedestal with my eye, then glanced back toward the lake.
I smiled. “Mon Calamari tourists will get a chance to have a good look at you, once this goes.”
I retreated to the center of the small courtyard, then unveiled my presence. I pushed my sphere of responsibility out, but had barely gotten it two meters before Kun appeared and swallowed my reflection in the obsidian stones of the pedestal.
“So, you have come to me to ask me to help you.” Haughtiness rippled through the Force. “I warned you that I would not be generous with you this time.”
I laughed at him. “I remember. That’s not why I’m here.”
Kun’s head came up as his face contracted into a fierce scowl. “What? Why have you violated my sanctuary?”
“Just the thing I wanted to talk with you about.” I stroked my goatee and began pacing back and form before him. “I checked New Republic law. Property claims are abandoned well shy of four millennia. As a result, I’ve filed a claim for this place, and now it’s mine. I’d love to have you stick around, but your statue is right where the wife will want the entertainment center. You understand, don’t you?”
“You insolent bug!” Kun opened his shadowy arms wide. “You prattle on as if your wit can armor you against my might.”
“And you think you can hurt me?” I scoffed at him. “This is your eviction notice.”
“You’re playing with powers more titanic than you could ever know.”
“Save the threats.” I yawned. “I’ve been going over all the stuff you’ve done, and I’ve figured out your weakness. While disembodied, you can’t affect the physical world.”
Kun’s expression darkened. “No?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Ah, then I cannot do this.” The wraith waved an ethereal hand and sparks shot from each of the explosive packets I’d scattered about. Blue flames flared as the detonators each melted.
Just like the Jedi Holocron!
My nose closing against the stink of melted plastic, I glanced up at Kun. “Ooops.”
Kun flicked a finger at me, sending me whirling across the courtyard. I tried to gather the Force around me to protect myself, but the shock at my error kept me from it. I slammed into an obsidian wall and heard a bone in my right forearm crack. I clutched the limb to my chest, but Kun spun me again, smashing my flank into a low wall. Ribs crunched with that impact and I felt something inside go, as well.
Kun was enjoying himself, probably for the first time in millennia, the very thought of which made me vomit. Kun’s laughter echoed through his stronghold as he pitched me around, dancing me and rolling me back and forth across the courtyard. I thought his actions were haphazard, especially when he lifted me into the air, then dashed me down, shattering my left leg, but even through the pain I had a clarity of mind. He wanted me thinking, not dead, yet, and that made my stomach roil again.
Eventually, like a child tiring of a toy, he let me go. I slumped to my side and involuntarily flinched as his shade came to cover me. “Just because you never saw me affect the material world, it doesn’t mean I couldn’t. And even if it is something of an effort to do so, here, in my stronghold, it is a pleasure beyond your possible ken.”
I let my words hiss out between clenched teeth. “I think I’ll put a wideview holoprojector right where you’re standing.”
“Childish jokes from a childish mind.” He gestured casually and all the explosive charges I’d placed sailed out of the temple and splashed in the black lake. Glancing down at me, Kun let his voice become icy. “You could have been raised to the level of divinity by my hand. Now you will be destroyed by it.”
Even before I could taunt him again, he gestured and I felt a presence behind me. I rolled over and saw Mirax standing there, her eyes full of fire. “I should have known, CorSec, that you would abandon me. You said you wanted me more than you wanted your Jedi heritage. I gave you all that I am. I want to bear your children. This is how you repay me? You leave me alone, all alone, dying alone; while you play games with rocks and pictures?”
The vehemence in her voice ripped straight through me. It collapsed my stomach and shoved it out through my spine. I wrapped my hands around my belly and hunched forward. “No, Mirax, no!”
The wailing calls of all the infants who had died on Carida swirled around me to accompany her voice. “Hear them, Corran. They are your sons, your daughters. They are the children you have denied to the world. You accused Exar Kun of being a fool because he destroys life, but you are more of a fool. You could have created it. With me. If you wanted me. If you truly loved me.”
I hugged my broken arm to fractured ribs, folding around the pain in my middle. I knew she was nothing but an illusion Kun had conjured from my mind, but it seemed too real for me to disbelieve it. Kun was feeding back to me my own image of Mirax, and infusing it with everything I feared. Because the attack came from within, I had no emotional armor with which to shield myself. I heard in her voice exactly the words that terrified me.
I reached out to her with my left hand, lifting my face toward her. “No, Mirax, no. I do love you!”
“How can you love her?” My father’s voice slashed at me from behind. “Her father hired the bounty hunter who murdered me. A murder you could have prevented. Was that it? Had she seduced you even then? Were you her creature? Did she lay warm in your arms so I could lay cold in them?”
I levered myself around into a sitting position to meet my father’s accusing stare, then had to tear my eyes from him. Gone was the man I had known in life. His flesh had become ashen, his eyes holes onto a void. The only color on him came from the blood spurting from his wounds to puddle around him. I heard it splashing from him. I couldn’t get the cloying scent out of my nostrils and dreaded the touch of the rivulet slowly snaking its way toward me.
“You know that’s not true!”
“I only know you failed me. You left me to die.”
Mirax chimed in. “As you leave me to die.”
My mother’s voice joined them. “He never cared if I died, either.”
Laughter, low and cold, echoed from the obsidian walls. I looked up and saw the image of Lujayne Forge, one of my first friends in Rogue Squadron. The right side of her face had been burned away by blaster fire. “He let me die. He wanted to play the hero, so I paid the price.”
“No!” I slammed my right fist against the courtyard stones, breaking it and grinding the bones in my arm. I latched onto the pain and used it to recapture control of my mind. Their accusations bored into me, freeing the part of me that second-guessed everything I did. I knew that piece of me well and loathed it. I could replay conversations in my mind for hours when it held sway, wishing I’d said this, wondering why I’d said that, hoping things would not be taken in the worst way, but dreading the fact that they would. When I began doubting myself, I was paralyzed. The cycle always built on itself, growing, reviewing more things, until I dissected my whole life.
And it continues until I get angry at myself and stop it.
The desire to give in to the anger and cut Exar Kun short almost overwhelmed me. That option hung there, tantalizing me. I could use my anger like a lightsaber. I could slice to ribbons these false spirits, these treacherous phantoms. I would cut down Exar Kun’s army, then I would rip into him. He would be nothing before me and my anger. I would sunder him the way my explosives should have sundered his shrine.
And then I can find other targets that deserve destruction.… I raised my right hand triumphantly, then curled it down into a fist.
Pain jolted through me again and in its wake came outrage. I slammed my hand against the ground and screamed, then shot Exar Kun a sidelong glance. “No. My anger is not for you to use.”
The Dark Lord towered above me. “Anger is a most sweet nectar. Despair will also suffice.”
Another phantom congealed before me, looking and feeling and smelling and sounding more real than I was myself. The little boy, all tow-headed and grey-eyed, barely older than Jacen Solo, looked at me with his lower lip quivering. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes. He reached out with little stubby-fingered hands and took my broken hand into his.
“Who hurt you, Daddy?” His innocent gaze searched my face. “I can make it better. I can. Let me. Please …” His voice became a plaintive wail that faded with his image. I felt his grip, feathery and gentle, soothing and kind, fading to be replaced with pain. “Why won’t you let me help?”
The lump rising in my throat strangled me. Through the boy’s fading image I saw Mirax, no longer hateful, standing there. She wore a simple white gown. She rubbed her hands lovingly over her swollen belly, the look on her face one of pure, unadulterated joy. The image shifted slightly as the boy reappeared, older, yet still a child, to place his hand against his mother’s rounded stomach.
Then both of their images blew apart into a million razor-edged fragments that burned through me.
“Just as well,” I heard my father say, “any child of that union would have been as disappointing as you have been.”
That simple remark detonated like a bomb inside me. I had forever hoped that I would win my father’s approval, that he would like me for who and what I was. He was never stinting with his praise, but with his death I had been left trying to guess what he would have thought about this action or that. Even my decision to become a Jedi had been made to win his approval and to model myself on him.
Star Wars: I, Jedi Page 24