Yun nodded. "Take a break, lieutenant. I'm going up top." "Sir! Yes, sir!"
A servo whined, the top hatch folded open, and Yun climbed the bulkhead-mounted rungs. It was hot outside, especially after the air-conditioned interior, and he squinted into the light. The Jedi emerged just in time to see the AT-AT lurch to a stop and pause a respectful distance away. The monster's head swiveled as its pilot used the chin-mounted sensors to probe the surrounding rocks.
Yun removed the electrobinoculars from the pouch on his belt, turned his back to the transport, and looked toward the north. He didn't see any tracks, nor was he likely to, since the patrol had been mounted on a skimmer plus two speeder bikes. He lowered his glasses. So what to do? The authorized patrol area had been searched from the air — and now on the ground. If the vehicles — or the remains of the vehicles — were visible, someone would have seen them by now.
So what about the areas outside of Lieutenant Aagon's authorized patrol area? Where would they have gone, and why? Yun had a theory about that — a theory based on his tour of the missing men's quarters. Every single one of Aagon's troopers had trophies hanging over their bunks. Sphere-shaped organisms with large, light-gathering eyes and delicate-looking tentacles.
No one seemed to know where the trophies came from or how the stormtroopers happened to acquire them, but Yun could guess. It was boring out on patrol, and Aagon, a resourceful type by all accounts, had discovered a way to liven things up. In doing so, he had routinely left the area he was assigned to patrol and gone where? South into the badlands? West toward the tower and his superior officers? East toward the saw-toothed mountain range? No, none seemed very likely not given the nice smooth hardpan that stretched to the north and natives who were rumored to roam it.
His decision made, Yun returned the electrobinoculars to their pouch, descended the ladder, and issued a new set of orders. The walkers turned toward the north, increased their rate of speed, and continued the hunt.
Kyle marveled at how pretty Jan was. Her eyes were closed, so that the long, dark lashes came close to touching her cheeks, one of which was smudged with dirt. One hand rested on her blaster, the other lay palm up, seemingly defenseless. He knew better, of course — and was careful not to touch her. "Hey, Jan — time to wake up."
"Wha?" Jan opened her eyes, blinked, and rubbed them with her fists. She looked at her wrist chrono. "What's the deal? I thought we agreed to sleep in for a change?"
"A nice thought," Kyle agreed, "except that Fido spotted an Imperial patrol. An AT-ST and an AT-AT — both headed north."
Jan rolled out from under the covers, grabbed her pants, and pulled them on. Kyle grinned, and she stuck out her tongue. "Lecher."
"Only for you . . . "
"Good," Jan said, buckling the blaster rig around her waist, "because I'd sure hate to fill out a whole bunch of reports explaining your untimely death."
Kyle tried to look terrified and followed her out of the one-time armory and into the main part of the temple. Grif Grawley was waiting. "The skimmer's ready . . . let's go."
Kyle nodded. "You think they're headed here? That we'll have to lead them away?"
Grif shrugged. "Hard to say. I hope not . . . but better that than to have them find both the temple and the Crow."
"How 'bout Floater? Should we bring him along?"
The colonist shook his head. "Naw, the daylight is too hard on him. Besides, Floater ain't built for this kinda thing."
The agents agreed, followed the colonist to the recently liberated skimmer, and took off. It was afternoon, so the occasional butte cast long, dark shadows toward the east. Grawley made use of them whenever he could, darting from one to the next, doing everything he could to maintain a low profile.
Finally, after fifteen minutes or so, the colonist dropped the skimmer into a dry riverbed and followed it toward a dramatic-looking mesa. "There's a good hiding place near the base," he explained, "and a trail to the top. We'll have a good view from there and, assuming they stay on the same course, plenty of time to react, if necessary."
Jan was tempted to ask what options they'd have if Imperials didn't maintain their present course but managed to hold her tongue.
True to his word, Grif guided the landspeeder into a semicircle of rocks, shut down the engines, and grabbed his pack. The agents did likewise. None of them planned to stay — but it paid to be careful.
Much of the trail was natural, following as it did an ancient fault line where the forces of sun, wind, and rain had carved the softer material away to reveal the underlying sedimentary rock. Still, there was no escaping the fact that intelligent, tool-using beings had improved on what nature started by cutting ledges into otherwise sheer cliffs, demolishing dangerous overhangs, and creating turnouts when the path grew narrow. Who were these mysterious engineers? Like so much about Ruusan, there was no way to know.
It took the better part of a half hour to reach the top — and Kyle was out of breath. Grif, by contrast, seemed entirely unaffected — a fact the younger man found annoying. "Come on," the colonist urged, "let's head for the east side. We oughta be able to see them by now. I sent Fido home, so he won't be spotted."
The surface of the mesa was flat. and littered with loose rock and a few hardy plants. The remains of broken-down walls marked the outline of an ancient fortress. One of these ran fairly close to the edge, and Grif motioned for the agents to take cover behind it. They obeyed, produced their electrobinoculars, and peered toward the east. The sun was just about to set, but Kyle had no difficulty recognizing the boulder and the smaller rocks that attended it. This was the place where the battle had been fought and the dead lay buried.
"Look!" Jan said, pointing to the southeast.
Kyle turned, saw something blur through the viewfinder, and brought the device back. There was no mistaking the walkers or their destination. Kyle lowered his glasses. What had attracted them to this particular location? Chance? Or something more? Whatever it was, he didn't like it. What if the Imperials found something? Security was tight as it was —additional precautions could make an already difficult mission nearly impossible. He met Jan's gaze, knew what she was thinking, and shrugged his shoulders. "Time will tell, Jan . . . time will tell."
The walkers came to a halt just south of the rock pile. The AT-ST stood guard while the massive AT-AT knelt to disgorge a pair of crawlers and a company of stormtroopers. Corporal Niko Smith cleared the ramp, sprinted for some cover, and fell on his belly. His sergeant, a grizzled veteran named Zonka, glanced over his shoulder, saw who it was, and nodded. "Gee, Sarge, it seems like we've scrambled over every boulder, rock, and pebble between here and the tower. What's the deal?"
"About a hundred credits a week and the Empire's heartfelt gratitude," Zonka replied. "Now get your butt in gear."
Smith grinned, waved his fire team forward, and scrambled over the rocks.
Yun opened the top hatch and watched while the troops fanned out, advanced by squad, and entered the jumble of stone. It was just another pile of rock to them — a chore to be dealt with as quickly and efficiently as possible.
Not to him, though. No, this place was different somehow. A battle had been fought here . . . and people had died. But when? A week ago? A thousand years? There was no way to be sure.
The sun dropped below the mesa off to his left. It looked blacker than black against a backdrop of gloriously pink light. And there was something else, too, a nearly undetectable fluctuation in the Force, the kind that signaled one or more intelligent minds.
Not too surprising, since some of the colonists had survived the attack on Fort Nowhere, except that Yun knew at least one of the minds, or thought he did.
The man in question was an Imperial renegade, the son of the very Rebel leader who had discovered the Valley of the Jedi and subsequently been executed. He was a Jedi who had been considerably weaker then, but still strong enough to fight Yun to a standstill and then spare his life. An act which the Dark Jedi had found puzzlin
g — and initially interpreted as a sign of weakness.
The discovery sent thoughts whirling through Yun's mind. A Rebel Jedi, here on Ruusan — why? To stop Jerec, of course, to free the imprisoned spirits, to counter all that Yun had dedicated himself to. It was an amazing discovery, and the Jedi had just started to think about it when Lieutenant Momo tugged on his pant leg. Yun descended into the cockpit. "Yes?"
"Sorry to bother you, sir, but the ground pounders found something."
"What?"
"A helmet, sir, with RW957 written on the inside."
Yun checked his datapad. Trooper RW957 had been a member of the missing patrol all right — which seemed to confirm his thesis: The patrol crossed out of its assigned area, ran into some opposition, and lost the subsequent fight. That, combined with the fact that the Rebels had one or more agents on the ground, led to an obvious conclusion. A conclusion that Yun decided to keep to himself.
"It's getting dark. Pull back the troops, establish a defensive perimeter, and hold for morning. We'll complete the search then."
Vlorno nodded. "Sir! Yes, sir!"
Yun climbed up through the hatch and stared out toward the mesa. The other mind was there, all right — still watching, still waiting. Yun considered his options and was surprised to discover that he had some.
The obvious course was to report everything he knew, attempt to capture the Rebels, and acquire more status. More status, more respect, and more opportunities to kill people. And what of the screamers? The whole process of thinking about them as personalities, of empathizing with their plight, had changed the way he felt about them. Jerec planned to keep them in confinement — to use their power for his own dark ends. And what about the uncounted billions upon whom his heavy hand would fall?
Yun knew that he lacked the courage to champion their cause directly — but what if there was another way? What if all he had to do was ignore something that might or might not be true? Besides, a debt was involved, and debts must be paid.
The Jedi made his decision as darkness cloaked the land. He formed the thought, not for the other man, but for himself. "You spared my life . . . and I'm sparing yours. Use the gift wisely"
Kyle lowered his electrobinoculars and put them away. "So?" Jan inquired. "What do you think?"
The other agent shrugged. "I can't be certain ... but I think they have a Jedi with them ... and he knows we're here."
Jan looked alarmed. "Then where are the TIE fighters? How come we're alive?"
Kyle shook his head. "I have no idea."
"So we go in?"
"That's what we came for."
"Yeah," Jan said thoughtfully "That's what we came for."
The first of three moons popped over the eastern horizon and threw light across the land.
Chapter 5
The Rebels put the Crow down about five klicks from the target. It was dark, and the maneuver called for some fancy flying. The kind Jan had perfected over the last few years. It was a long way from the Valley — but as close as they dared come. The area was crawling with troops, attack droids, and AT-STs. By landing in a canyon, and covering the ship with camouflage netting, they hoped to escape detection.
Wee Gee beeped forlornly when ordered to remain behind, but Kyle was adamant. The droid would be a liability when it came to mountain climbing — and they had enough problems already.
The scouting party consisted of Kyle, Jan, Grif, and the bouncer called Floater.
Once the ship was secured, they set off in what Kyle knew to be a southerly direction. Floater led them through a labyrinth of twisting, turning canyons. How the bouncer managed to navigate through the maze was a mystery.
Kyle was surprised by the ease with which the native managed the mountainous terrain. Especially given the extent to which his species had adapted to life in the open desert. The seemingly fragile, balloon-like body and tentacle-style arms were deceiving though. Thanks to his negligible body weight and multiple limbs, Floater climbed with case. And, while the humans were forced to rappel down the face of vertical cliffs, the bouncer loved to fling himself out into the void and float to the ground.
The darkness made the trek even more treacherous, and if it hadn't been for their night-vision goggles, the humans would have been unable to proceed.
All went well, very well, until the Rebels were half a klick from the Valley. Dawn saw the group ascending the nearly vertical slope of a brittle ravine. Floater had the lead, and Grif came next with Kyle and Jan strung out on ropes below.
Grif had just scrambled up onto a broad shelf when he heard the unmistakeable sound of jets firing. An attack droid, now alerted to the Rebel's presence, rose from a dark cleft in the ledge to Grif's left, who did the first thing that came to mind — he charged.
The attack droid had two sometimes countervailing objectives: to gather intelligence and kill intruders. The second imperative took momentary precedence over the first. That being the case, the machine met charge with charge.
There was no time to pull his blaster, so Grif opened his arms and swore as the machine slammed into his body.
Kyle heard a noise and looked up just in time to see the attack droid, Grif plastered across the front of its casing, sail out over the abyss. It would have been comical if the droid hadn't seized one of the colonist's legs and crushed it with a pair of powerful pincers.
Grif roared in pain, pulled his half-meter-long hunting knife, and rammed it through the robot's thin alloy skin. The blade, which had been fashioned from diamond-hard hull metal, sliced through the machine's wiring harness and shorted the guidance system.
Jan locked herself in place and waited for a shot. The droid spun on its axis and took Grif for a ride. Jan wanted to fire but was afraid to do so. The odds of hitting Grif were way too high — not to mention the fact that her rope had started to sway.
The outposter was furious now, stabbing the machine over and over, and screaming his hatred. "This is for Katie, this is for Carole, and this is for me!" The settler hit something critical, and the attack droid staggered and then accelerated away. There was a momentary flash of light as it hit the canyon wall and fell to the rocks below.
Kyle felt Grif's death via the Force, and Jan bit her lip.
But there was nothing they could do — nothing but turn back or go on. Kyle scrambled onto the ledge and waited for Jan to join him.
Common sense argued that they go back — but the importance of the mission urged him on. They were close, so close, and there was no assurance that conditions would improve later. In fact, it seemed logical to suppose that the Imperials would tighten their grip, making any sort of incursion that much more difficult. Still, there were other lives at stake, and Kyle had no right to make decisions for Jan or Floater.
Kyle waited until Jan was on the ledge and held a brief council of war. "There's no way to know if the droid sent some sort of report, but we should assume it did. The Imperials will send out a patrol — and it will find the wreckage."
"And Grif 's body," Jan said soberly.
"And Grif 's body," Kyle agreed. "But what will they conclude when they find it? That he was part of a group? Looking to penetrate the Valley? Or a loner who wound up in the wrong place at the wrong time?"
"We can hope for the second possibility," Jan said judiciously, "but the first seems more likely. Smart people would leave in a hurry."
Kyle scanned her face. "And?"
She shrugged. "We have a mission to carry out. Let's get on with it."
Kyle nodded, looked for Floater, and couldn't find him. He pulled the night-vision goggles down over his eyes and tried again. The native was high above — still climbing. The Rebel grinned and pointed upward. "Well, if actions speak louder than words, then we know what Floater thinks . . . Let's go."
The next few hours were difficult, because of both the physical demands involved and the constant threat of discovery A shuttle rumbled over their heads on one occasion — and a speeder-bike-mounted patrol passed through a
n intersecting arroyo on another. The Imperials were so thick, in fact, that Kyle was about to look for a hiding place when Floater led them to the aqueduct. It was about ten meters across and six high. Unlike the open irrigation canals common on many planets, the aqueduct incorporated a lid designed to limit the amount of water lost through evaporation. A lid that hid the Rebels from ships passing above.
The fact that the ancient waterway followed the contour of the land and led toward the Valley of the Jedi made it perfect. Kyle gave Floater an approving pat and followed the native into the darkness.
Jerec stood, hands clasped behind his hack, and stared out through the transparisteel window. Or that's the way it appeared, given that the Jedi was blind. However, "seeing" involves as many dimensions as "knowing," and Jerec saw many things that were hidden from others, not the least of which was the metaphysical storm that raged around the Valley below and the power imprisoned there.
The thought brought a smile to Jerec’s lips. The Valley was everything he had hoped for and more . . . By tapping the power resident there and shaping it to his will, the Dark Jedi would control the Empire. No, not the pathetic remains of what Palpatine and others had frittered away, but something new, something glorious, something never seen before.
An Empire that reached beyond the accomplishments of the past, beyond the surrounding star systems, beyond neighboring galaxies to include all that was or would ever be — now that was a goal! That was an empire.
He would have to be careful, however, very careful, since the forces that prevented the Jedi spirits from leaving the Valley had weakened with the passage of time and needed to be strengthened. An escape would be disastrous, since the power he required flowed from the prisoners. No need to worry, though, since repairs had begun and would soon be complete. The thought pleased him, and the Jedi frowned as a voice sounded from behind him. "Lord Jerec?"
"Yes? What now?"
The officer, a relatively junior lieutenant, swallowed nervously. "A report, sir . . . from Attack Droid AD-43. A party of three humans and an unclassified alien passed through Perimeter Two and are headed this way."
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