"Current status?"
"We aren't sure. AD-43 was destroyed. Other assets have been dispatched but haven't arrived yet."
The Jedi considered the officer's words. Now that the Valley was under his control, Jerec was in no particular hurry. He needed time to prepare, but more than that, time in which to savor that which destiny had placed before him, much as a gourmet might linger over a rare and carefully prepared dessert.
There was leakage, though — leakage that could double or even triple his ability — and whet his appetite for more. The Jedi Master directed a thought outward, steered a circle around the cauldron of churning energy, and located a place where a steady stream of pitch-black energy had broken through the protective shell and strobed into space.
Jerec chose a single shaft of negative energy, drew on its power, and felt himself expand. Bigger and bigger until his mind was everywhere, until he was one with the dark inner fabric of the Force itself, until he stood on the very brink of what he perceived as being all-powerful.
Not the state of enlightenment that so many prattled on about, but a state in which power could be accessed, shaped, and applied — all without the years of tedious meditation, study, and apprenticeship that proponents of the light side considered so necessary. Even better was the next step, the step beyond Jedi Mastery, into which Jerec now passed.
And it was there, in a state approaching all-knowingness, that he swept the ethers for signs of life. Thousands appeared, each instantly identifiable, each distinct from all the rest. He felt the lieutenant, only meters away, frightened and eager to leave; his bodyguards, their minds blank with boredom; Sariss, seething with plans; Boc, relishing someone else's discomfort; Yun, confused and unsure; Maw, looking to express his rage; animals, following the dictates of their genetic programming; and there, closer than he would have thought, the intruders. And not just any intruders — but Kyle Katarn!
But wait — the boy had changed, had grown into more than an annoyance: a Jedi Knight! Not entirely unexpected, since Jerec had been aware of the boy's potential before he had, but surprising nonetheless. A self-taught Jedi was nearly unheard of — unless! — and the truth flooded his mind. The youth had a mentor: Rahn!
Laughter came as if from a long way off — and Jerec felt a sudden stab of fear. He felt a desire to reach out, to crush that which opposed him, but brought the impulse under control. It was an interesting development, but not an immediate threat.
"Besides," Jerec mused, directing the thought outward, "even the best blade can be turned against those who forged it."
The laughter stopped, and a smile touched Jerec's lips. A nerve had been struck. Somewhere within the maze of beliefs, thoughts, and experiences that made up Kyle Katarn's personality, a flaw existed, a flaw that, like Yun's need for approval or Boc's senseless sadism, could be leveraged. The thought pleased the Jedi, and a decision was reached. "Maintain surveillance. Keep me informed."
The lieutenant's boots made a clicking sound as he popped to attention. "Sir! Yes, sir!"
A column of troops wound past the tower and made their way toward the ancient storerooms hidden within the Valley's walls. The harvest continued. Life was good.
The aqueduct was old, very old, or so it felt as Jan followed Kyle toward a distant pinpoint of light. Their glow rods projected blobs of light onto walls smoothed by the passage of water. Side tunnels appeared from time to time, their mouths gaping open, hinting at destinations deep within the rock.
Kyle said, "Watch your step," but not before something crackled underfoot. Jan directed her light downward. The skeleton, or what remained of a skeleton, belonged to a species she hadn't seen before. Had it been sentient? The eye sockets looked reproachful — as if the answer was obvious.
The light grew brighter, and the tunnel opened onto a ledge. Floater gestured with his tentacles, and Kyle crawled out. Jan followed. A wall of hand-fitted stone provided some cover, or so it seemed until a pair of TIE fighters roared by; banked around a pillar of rock, and disappeared.
Jan low-crawled to Kyle's side, got up onto her knees, and looked over the side. A tower soared hundreds of feet into the air. Landing platforms sprouted to either side, as did retractable loading arms. Jan watched as a heavily laden freighter broke contact, dropped fifty meters, caught itself, and lumbered away.
The ship would have to wend its way through a series of interconnecting canyons before emerging over the desert where it could build speed. Speed that would allow it to break free of the planet's gravity well and pass through the atmosphere. A sure sign that the Imperials had found something worth stealing. There were other freighters, too, along with shuttles and a gaggle of TIE fighters.
Kyle scanned the valley below. He watched a pair of AT-STs lumber along a trail, a trio of attack droids scoot toward the tower, and a column of stormtroopers march toward a prefab building. Jan nudged his arm. "So, what do you think?"
"It's worse than I imagined," Kyle responded, scanning the column through his electrobinoculars. "Much worse. The Imperials really have their hooks into this place."
Jan nodded. "That's for sure."
"Wait a minute," Kyle said softly. "Look who's here."
The Jedi handed the electrobinoculars to Jan and pointed toward the tower. "On the topmost landing platform. A man and a woman."
Jan focused on the very top of the tower and allowed the glasses to drift downward until a platform appeared. The woman wore black, as did the man. "I see them — who are they?"
"The man is Jerec," Kyle answered thoughtfully. "The woman is one of the many Jedi who serve him."
"Like the ones you killed on Sulon?"
"Exactly."
"So what do we do now?"
"You wait here," Kyle said, "while I visit the tower."
"I'm coming, too."
"And leave Floater all by himself?"
Jan regarded the Jedi with open suspicion. Was he trying to protect her? While using the bouncer as an excuse? Or was he genuinely concerned for the alien's safety? It was impossible to tell. "You'll get into trouble."
Kyle grinned. "And you'll get me out."
Neither noticed the sky-eye that rode the thermals above them — nor were they aware of the high-res holo beamed to the tower.
The hours after Kyle's departure passed with excruciating slowness. The sun rose, the temperature increased, and Floater was forced to retreat into the relative darkness of the aqueduct. Jan, fearful that she might miss something, remained where she was.
It was difficult, however — difficult to remain hidden, and difficult to stay awake. It had been a long, strenuous night, and that, combined with the warmth of the sun, made her drowsy. That's why the combat skimmer was able to get so close and Jan turned too late.
The skimmer, the stormtroopers, and the knowledge that she had committed a terrible error all registered on Jan's consciousness at the same moment.
The vehicle carried a half-dozen troops. An officer pointed and yelled.
Once alerted, the Rebel was fast, extremely fast, and the blaster seemed to leap into her fist. She fired, the officer fell out of the skimmer, and the pintle-mounted energy cannon burped in response. The beam passed over Jan's head and hit the aqueduct.
Super-heated rock exploded in every direction, and the opening collapsed. An officer yelled, "Alive, you idiot!" and Jan fell backward as the skimmer threatened to crush her. It took less than three minutes for the troopers to pile out of the skimmer, pat down the agent, and secure her hands.
An officer, anonymous behind his visor, gave the necessary orders. "Put her aboard . . . shift enough rock to make a hole. There could be more — and I want every single one of them."
Jan remembered the side tunnels that led deep into the mountainside and knew where Floater would go. It was a small consolation — but better than nothing. Her thoughts turned to Kyle. What would he do without her? And if it came to that, what would she do without him?
Kyle felt something was wrong but cou
ldn't put a finger on what it was. He pushed his consciousness outward, searching for danger, and found nothing but tranquility. Comforting — but impossible given the circumstances. It was as if someone or something had smothered his senses. But that was impossible, wasn't it?
The uneasiness continued as Kyle lowered himself down through a three-sided chimney and dropped to the ground. He'd been lucky, almost too lucky, but there was nothing he could do about it.
The Jedi considered the rope and decided to leave it. Assuming that his luck held and he made it back, the line would come in handy.
The passage of time, combined with natural forces of erosion, had caused boulders to accumulate at the foot of the cliff. The Rebel used them to conceal his movements.
The tower made an excellent and highly visible landmark. The agent waited until he was opposite the structure, worked his way out toward the Valley floor, and peeked through a gap in the rocks.
The area between Kyle's hiding place and the base of the tower was completely open. To cross was out of the question. All he could do was wait.
An hour passed. The sun pounded down, sweat poured off his body, and his water disappeared one swallow at a time. The agent's situation was desperate by the time a tractor appeared and offered the only chance he was likely to get. He saw a single guard sitting next to the driver, engaged in conversation.
Kyle waited for the tractor to draw abreast of his position, dashed across the intervening space, and jumped onto a coupler. A train of fifteen cars jerked along behind the tractor and raised an enormous cloud of reddish brown dust. It made him cough, but the noise generated by the tractor's engine covered the sound.
The train passed a half-filled vehicle park and wound past the tower. Kyle waited till the moment was right, jumped to the ground, and made a dash for one of the enormous footings on which the vertical structure rested. He waited for an alarm. None came.
Kyle turned and scuttled toward the tower's inner core. The sentries, their attention focused on the Valley beyond, stood with their backs to him. The Rebel marched by, hit the "up" button, and waited for the lift. The doors opened and a brace of Commandos appeared.
Kyle had his lightsaber tucked under his arm, much as an officer might carry a swagger stick, and nodded as he marched by. The Rebel did a smart about-face, saw that one of the Imperials looked as if he wanted to say something, and frowned.
That, plus the lightsaber, did the trick. The Dark Jedi, because that's who the Imperials assumed he was, were notoriously short-tempered. So much so that neither one cared to try his patience.
The door rolled into place, and the turbolift rose with what would have been commendable speed had Kyle been in a hurry. Yes, he was Jedi, and yes, he had proven himself against three of the Dark Master's subordinates, but the thought of going one-on-one with Jerec himself terrified him. What he needed was help — a whole bunch of it.
Thought was answered with thought as Rahn flooded Kyle's mind. "The Force is with you — as am I."
Kyle forced a grin. "What? No breaks?"
"Not lately" the Jedi Master replied dryly, "not since your arrival on Ruusan."
"Good — I need your help."
"Knowing that, and admitting it, signals strength. The half-man awaits. Use my name to seize the advantage."
Who was the half-man? And what difference would Rahn's name make? Kyle wanted to ask a half-dozen questions, but the lift started to slow. The agent readied the lightsaber, allowed his thumb to rest on the switch, and kept his eyes on the door.
The lift came to a halt. A tone sounded, and a light came on. The door rolled open, and a messenger droid scurried through the opening. It squeaked, sent a signal to the turbolift, and waited for the platform to fall.
Kyle approached the entrance, looked out onto an empty platform, and heard machinery whir. The message was clear: get off or take his chances on the lift. There was no sign of a half-man, whole man, or any other kind of man.
Surprised by Rahn's error, and more than a little apprehensive, the Rebel stepped out onto the platform. The tone sounded, and the door closed behind him. A loading ramp jutted off to the right, and a cargo ship hung beyond that.
Kyle took two steps forward, felt something "pop," and felt a sudden flood of sensation. Nothing exotic, not by his standards anyway just the sort of input he normally received via the Force but had been unable to access for the last ten to fifteen minutes. Why?
The answer came with terrifying speed. Something, he wasn't sure what, hit his shoulder and sent him sprawling. He rolled onto his back, jumped to his feet, and lit the lightsaber. The air crackled and filled with the odor of ozone.
That was the moment when Kyle realized that Rahn had been right —the lower half of his opponent's body was missing! It was the Force that held him up off the ground. The Dark Jedi's skull was shaved and seemed too small for his body. Hatred filled his eyes and pulled at his thick-lipped mouth. Two equally enormous arms hung from his muscle-bound torso, and one ended in a lightsaber.
In addition to holding the Jedi up off the deck, the Force exerted its influence over other objects as well, including nuts, bolts, pebbles, a ration bar, and various bits of wire. All of which orbited the half-man's body as if he were the sun and they were his planets. The lightsaber buzzed with malevolent energy, and his words had a grating sound. "I am Maw .. . prepare to die!"
"Maybe," Kyle replied calmly "remembering that my friend Rahn already cut you down to size."
The effect was electrifying. Maw's face turned purple with anger, and he uttered a roar of pure, undiluted rage. He accelerated with far greater speed than Kyle had anticipated. The Rebel fell backward, allowed the Dark Jedi to pass over him, and slashed upward.
Maw bellowed with pain, lost his concentration, and hit the deck. The lightsaber sailed out of his hand, and debris rained onto his head and shoulders.
Kyle took a single step forward, eyed his opponent's back, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Maw supported himself with his fists, turned, and looked upward. "I'm defenseless . . . kill me! Or do you lack the courage? As your father did before you?"
Kyle dropped his head. Anger, contained and controlled for so long, flowered within. He felt it radiate outward, seep through his body, and tingle at his fingertips. The lightsaber hummed, and his fingers wrapped and rewrapped themselves around the well-worn grip. Here was one of the people who had murdered his father — and not just his father, but hundreds, maybe thousands, more. Killing such a person would be just, yet . . .
Maw grinned demonically. "Your father was on his knees, whimpering like a child, as Jerec struck him down. I placed his head on the spike where the rest of the Rebel scum could see it."
The lightsaber blurred as it rose and fell. The blade entered the half-man's left shoulder, sliced through his chest, and exited through the right side of his body. There was an explosion of blood as Maw fell into two distinct pieces — and Kyle felt energy swirl around him. Dark energy, attracted by the nature of his act, ready for use.
Shocked by what he had done and sickened by the slaughter, Kyle backed away. A voice came from behind. "Excellent . . . The journey to the dark side has begun. But there is more . . ."
Kyle turned to discover that Jerec, Sariss, and Boc had stepped off the turbolift, and that Jan was with them. Boc gave Jan a wholly unnecessary shove. She stumbled and caught herself. Kyle saw the bruises on her face and realized that her arms were bound. Jan forced a grin. "Sorry, Kyle, looks like I can't bail you out of this one."
Jerec gave her a push and Jan fell. He pointed to where she lay. "Strike her down! Realize your true destiny . . . your true power."
Time stretched thin. Jerec felt Kyle's hunger, the ambition that seeped up through his consciousness, and allowed himself a smile. Here was the flaw that Rahn feared, here was the lever he'd been looking for, and here was a hunger that matched his own.
Jan watched the other agent's eyes, saw temptation flicker there, and wondered if she had misjudg
ed him.
Boc simpered, did a little dance, and waited for someone to die. He wore two lightsabers, one thrust through the back of his sash and one in front
Kyle looked from Jerec to Jan and back again. The fact that he'd been tempted, could be tempted, made his stomach churn. "No."
The Dark Jedi drew upon the energy that leaked out of the Valley, gave it shape, and hurled the construct at Kyle's chest. The blast threw the Rebel backward onto the loading ramp. He staggered and had just managed to reestablish his footing when a second, more powerful explosion hurled him back into the cargo ship.
The lock sensed his presence, and the hatch started to close. The ramp disintegrated. The ship tilted away, and fell toward the rocks below.
Jan rose, tried to make her way to the edge of the platform, and was slammed to the deck. Boc laughed and put a foot on her chest.
Unaware of what was going on above, Kyle smashed into a bulkhead and knew what he had to do. Head for the belly of the ship and pass through the docking port. It was his only chance.
The docking port? Why the docking port? But there was no answer —just an overriding sense of urgency.
The inner hatch opened, and Kyle ducked through and found himself in one of two corridors that ran the length of the ship. As with most ships of her design, there was an emergency drop shaft that ran top to bottom through the ship's hull. Kyle staggered as the nose tilted down. He dropped to his knees and opened the access door set flush with the deck.
A ladder was welded to one side of the drop shaft. The Rebel clamped the side rails between his boots, slid downward, and triggered the hatch. The agent dropped through and landed on the docking port. Or would have, had the freighter been level. Because the ship was tilted nose down, the Rebel hit forward of the hatch and had to battle his way up.
Precious seconds passed while he cycled through the lock and entered a familiar-looking compartment. The Crow! The Imperials had located the ship and flown it to the tower. The agent heard a beeping sound and knew that Wee Gee was locked in one of the storage compartments. There was no time to free him, however. If he could bring the engines on-line . . . if he could break the connection . .
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