Star Wars: The Twelve Knights Chronicles
It has been 6 months since the defeat of Abeloth. Knowing from both legends and intel received from the Killiks that Abeloth returns every time the future is changed, Grand Master Luke Skywalker sends out a dozen of his most trusted Jedi Knights with two goals in mind:
Find the Mortis Monolith and any information about The Ones that will help with the imprisonment of Abeloth should she ever return; or failing that, find and secure the Force Imbued Dagger to destroy Abeloth once and for all. Knowing that the task may take even longer than his own lifetime, Grand Master Luke Skywalker prepares a back up plan.
Skywalker assigns his niece Jaina Solo, who has recently been elevated to the Rank of Jedi Master, a task he expects to be equally difficult, if not impossible. Find Boba Fett or Mirta Gev, and convince them to train an elite group of Jedi Knights in the ways of the Mandalorian Warriors and Bounty Hunters…
Chapter One
Kyle Raeger once again meditated on the events in his life that had led him up to this point. Growing up on the coasts of Chandrila, where Senator and then later Chief of State Mon Mothma once lived, a chance encounter with the Mon Cal Jedi Master Cilghal led to the discovery of his Force Sensitivity and his enrollment into the Jedi Academy.
No, that's not right, Kyle chided himself. As his Master, Corran Horn had told him many times, often using anecdotes peppered with equal parts of wisdom and personal experience, "There is no such thing as coincidence or chance encounters, at least where Jedi are concerned. I remember a time…", at which point, his Master would recount an event from before he was a Jedi, thinking everything was a coincidence, and learning all along it had been his latent and untrained abilities in the Force.
Now, some two months after being selected by Grand Master Skywalker as one of a dozen senior Jedi Knights sent out to discover more above the being known as Abeloth, he was facing another decision, seemingly based on random chance. At times like these, he also remembered one of the most important lessons that used to be taught by the Grand Master's late wife, Mara Jade Skywalker.
"While there are genuine incidences of actual random chance out there in the universe, you should never put your trust in them," Master Mara Jade said. "Take, for example, these chance cubes I'm holding in my hand. It was one of these cubes that changed the fate of the entire galaxy."
She then tossed the two chance cubes, one to each of the Jedi Knights in training to either side of her. "Go ahead and toss those cubes," Master Mara Jade said, and then took a few steps back. The Jedi Trainees tossed their chance cubes, and the entire class watched, fixated on them. One cube landed on blue, and the other red. "Okay," Master Mara Jade said, "what went wrong?"
The entire class looked at her, confused. They all clearly saw the chance cubes on the ground, just as he did. Seeing that none of the students were grasping the lesson, Master Mara Jade then turned to look at what appeared to be an empty seat, and then said, "Okay, you can stop now."
Suddenly, Jedi Master Corran Horn appeared out of nowhere, smiling and looking very relaxed. The entire classroom reacted in surprise. Kyle then looked back at the ground, and saw the chance cubes were gone. "Hey, where did the chance cubes go?"
Master Horn then smiled again, and turned to him, asking, "Are you sure?" Kyle, dumbfounded, replied earnestly, "Yes. We all saw them right there," while pointing at the spot on the ground. Master Horn had then sat up straight, looked him straight in the eye, and repeated his earlier question, "Are you sure?"
Kyle, his Force senses still growing but much sharper than they had been just five years prior during his childhood on Chandrila, reached out with his mind. First he probed for any deception. He could not find any of the hazy, slightly dark flavor that he and his classmates had been taught to look for. Second, he looked for any empty spaces, where the chance cubes might be hidden out of sight. Finally, he looked for any evidence of masking. His first teachers, Tionne and Kam Solusar, had taught him how to look for these. The masking had been the hardest for him, but oddly, Master Kam had told him he was probably the best in his age group at detecting it.
Detecting the masking was far more complicated than the deception. When asked to explain it to his fellow classmates, he had described it like a warm blanket tossed on top of an ice cold bath. The warm sensation covered up the cold sensation, trying to trick you into not noticing it. Finally, Kyle turned to Master Horn, dejected, and said, "No, and I'm beginning to wonder if those cubes were ever here in the first place."
Getting up and patting him on the shoulder, Master Horn then gave him a very odd smile, much different from the ones before. "Very good," he'd said. "You were quick and efficient. You were also thorough," Master Horn said. "In fact, if you had done that about 3 minutes ago, I never would have been able to fool you." He then turned to Master Mara Jade, and asked, "Do you want to wrap up the lesson, or should I do it?"
Master Mara Jade had then given him her most mischievous grin, the one that seemed to somehow drive Grand Master Skywalker equal parts crazy and happy, and replied, "Be my guest."
"So class, what have we learned today?" Master Horn said, while walking to the front of the classroom and turning around to face him and his fellow students. "First, as Master Kenobi once said to Master Skywalker, 'Don't trust your eyes, they can deceive you.' Second, don't assume that a room or situation is cleared after your initial examination. None of you noticed me coming into the room, and you three didn't even notice me when I sat down less than a meter away from you," Master Horn noted, with equal parts mirth and contempt, much to the chagrin of his three classmates sitting at the end of the front row near him.
"Finally, the best way to notice all this is to be calm, and at peace, no matter what else is going on. Now, this test wasn't exactly fair, but that's also part of the test, as well." Master Horn then gestured to the rest of the class. "Young Kyle here came closest to figuring it out on his own. Remember, most evil isn't going to just jump out at you like a cartoonish villain from a youngling's holodrama. Most times, evil will have wrapped itself up in respectability and affluence, to better hide itself."
Master Horn then turned to face Kyle directly. "You were right, by the way. Those chance cubes never existed in the first place. The same way I influenced you all to not see or even hear me, I influenced you all to see and hear, and for you two, to even feel the cubes in your hands."
As Master Horn was getting ready to leave, one of Kyle's fellow classmates jumped up and asked, "Wait, what about Master Mara Jade Skywalker's original part of the lesson. How did a chance cube affect the fate of the entire galaxy?"
Master Mara Jade leaned forward, resuming control of the class. "Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, who often found himself at odds with the Jedi Council in the waning years of the Old Republic, discovered Anakin Skywalker on his homeworld of Tatooine. Believing he was the Chosen One of prophecy, Master Qui-Gon made a deal with Watto, the junk dealer who owned Anakin and Shmi Skywalker as slaves.
"Watto agreed to free one of the two slaves, but decided to use a chance cube. Master Qui-Gon agreed, and the cube chose Anakin. At least, that's what Qui-Gon told the Jedi Council at the time. Later, he confided to Masters Yoda and Mace Windu that he had influenced the chance cube to allow him to take Anakin Skywalker with him."
Master Mara Jade then turned to look directly at Kyle. "Which is more important to the Force, life or death?"
Sensing that Master Mara Jade wanted more than just an automatic or glib answer, Kyle leaned back to think about it. "I don't know. Life is what gives the Force its power. Death minimizes that power. But, we've also been taught that valuing your own life above all else is selfish, and can lead to destruction." Kyle closed his eyes, and after using a calming, meditative Jedi breathing technique, answered, "Neither. Life is what allows the Force to grow, but death, as Master Yoda was often quoted as saying, is a natural part of life. So, denying death in a way also denies life, which cuts us off from the Light Side of the Force, leaving only the Dark Side."
Master Mara Jade gave him a very frank stare, and also probed him with the Force. The first time that had happened, back on Chandrila with Master Cilghal, it had felt alien and violating. He had pushed back against her automatically, so strongly that it had actually staggered the Jedi Master. Now, five years later, it still felt a bit odd, but it no longer felt violating. Instead, he sat back, and waited patiently until Master Mara Jade finished.
Seemingly finding the answer she had been looking for, Master Mara Jade had nodded to herself, and then turned back to the rest of the class. "You're all dismissed. Trainee Raegar, please remain behind." Kyle sighed to himself. I've done it again, haven't I? When Kyle had first gotten to the Jedi Academy, all of his instructors had pronounced him headstrong, stubborn, and defiant to the end. Over the first two years, his every task and assignment had been about shedding his more harmful habits, while molding them into more productive aspects.
One of his most difficult assignments, less than a month after entering the Academy, had been to sit in a room by himself in a wobbly chair for three hours straight. Finally, one of his instructors had come in, and asked him if he wanted to go and scrub floors for another 3 hours, or remain seated in the chair for one hour. Not entirely trusting the instructor, he'd waited until he was asked the question again before answering. After another pause, Kyle instead asked, "Can I at least get a better chair to sit on?"
Much to Kyle's surprise, the instructor had actually smiled, and replied by saying, "Sure, all you had to do was ask." Confused, Kyle stopped the instructor before he left the room to get him the better chair. "Wait. What would have happened if I hadn't asked about the chair?" The instructor smiled again, and with a little mirth in his voice, chuckled and said, "I suspect you would have ended up scrubbing the floors for half the night," and then left.
Letting go of his reminiscing, Kyle brought his attention back to the here and now, as the rest of his classmates had filed out. Master Corran Horn started walking around the room, and then walked up a few rows above where Kyle was sitting. Kyle ignored him, knowing both from his training and from personal experience that it was a blatant tactic meant to antagonize him. Instead, he focused on Master Mara Jade Skywalker.
"I bet you're wondering why you're still here, aren't you, Raeger?" Master Mara Jade asked. "In case you're worried, you aren't about to receive a punishment."
Kyle visibly relaxed, but still had his guard up. "I'm glad to hear it," Kyle replied, very neutrally.
Master Horn then spoke up for the first time since everyone else had left the room.
"How do you like it here at the Jedi Academy?" Master Horn asked him. Kyle turned slightly in his seat, so he could see Master Horn without taking his attention off Master Mara Jade.
"I like it fine, Master Horn," Kyle replied, again very neutrally.
Master Horn continued, "Would it surprise you to hear we've had our eyes on you for a few weeks now?"
Kyle buried his concern and resentment deep down. So much for not getting punished, Kyle thought. Instead, he replied, "Not really. I've been focusing on my studies and making sure I stay out of trouble, for all the good it's done me," Kyle sighed. "I can definitely tell I'm not the same person I was five years ago. I know that's a good thing, but I also want to be careful that I don't forget the lessons I've learned, both before and after I came here."
Master Horn nodded to Master Mara Jade, and Kyle felt something in the Force; pride mixed with sadness, along with a small amount of loss. Master Mara Jade then spoke up, "Trainee Raegar, go back to your dorm room, gather all your things, and then come back here. Today will be your last day at the Jedi Academy."
Shock ripped through the Force like an ion cannon blast, and Kyle couldn't hold back his confusion and anger. "What!? But why? What have I done!?"
Master Horn, as calm as ever, said to him, "Please do as Master Skywalker requested."
Regaining his composure, Kyle replied, "Yes, Master," and got up to leave the room. Kyle walked in a daze back to his dorm room, and began packing up his belongings. The shock had gone, and the bitter tears had begun.
Knowing that he needed to be calm before he returned, Kyle sat down and meditated until all his fear and anger were gone. Only then did he finish his packing and return to the classroom. Upon entering, he saw a third person was in the room, but it wasn't until he got closer that he realized it was Grand Master Luke Skywalker. Kyle was glad he had taken the time to meditate, because all these swift changes had nearly overwhelmed him.
"Greetings, Trainee Raeger," Grand Master Skywalker said. "I asked to be here, because it's a momentous event." Grand Master Skywalker clapped him on the shoulders, and then looked him in the eye. "You're right, death is an important part of life. Death involves change, and not all change is pleasant. But change is also necessary." Grand Master Skywalker then held out his hand behind him, and a small box was placed in it.
"Today, we are witnessing a death, from a certain point of view," the Grand Master continued. "Today marks the end of your journey at the Jedi Academy. Tomorrow marks the beginning of a new journey. That journey begins with this box." Grand Master Skywalker placed the box into Kyle's hands, and stepped back. "All journeys start with a first step. For you, that step involves you opening that box. Only you can decide if you're ready to open it."
Kyle was still surprised, but also held onto his calm. Instead of simply opening the box, he once again reached out with his Force senses. The box had an oddly pulsing sensation. It seemed to somehow be both aware and yet not truly sentient at the same time. Next he reached out, and probed the three Masters standing in front of him. Master Mara Jade Skywalker seemed to have the same level of cool professionalism as she always did, with just a hint of expectation. Grand Master Luke Skywalker was both open and closed at the same time.
Kyle stopped to think about that, and gently probed further. Once again, he found the Grand Master closed, but not in a malicious or even indifferent way. The closest thing he could relate it to was one time when he was present at a military graduation that he and some other younglings had been invited to. A soldier, barely older than he was now, was beaming with pride. His grandfather, more reserved than the young soldier, congratulated him, but was noticeably holding something back, so as not to burden his grandson. Grand Master Skywalker's impression, though, was more like a parent patiently waiting for his child to make an important, possibly life altering decision.
Last, he reached out to Master Corran Horn. He was surprised yet again, when he detected, deep down, beneath the calm stoicism, an almost giddy sense of joy being held tightly under control. Finally, he opened up the box. Inside were a few small items. He wanted to jump with joy once he realized what he held in his hands. A small power source, a cylindrical piece of hollow metal tubing, a small concave focusing dish, and nestled in the middle, the object that had caused the pulsing sensation, a Khyber crystal. They were all the parts necessary to construct a lightsaber. His lightsaber.
Chapter Two
"Remind me to thank Uncle Luke the next time I see him for this wonderful assignment," Jaina Solo, recently elevated to the Rank of Jedi Master, turned to look at the only other person in the cockpit of the modified freighter they were piloting. Jagged Fel, or simply Jag, as his friends and family called him. As always, his outer exterior betrayed nothing, completely professional, sitting militarily straight in his seat.
Jag also represented a recent change in her life. Early on, they had been rivals of a sort. That had quickly led to the camaraderie of fellow starfighter pilots known the galaxy over. In both of their late teen years, it had blossomed into infatuation, possibly even love. But then, duty, oaths, and the Force had intervened.
After the end of the war with the Yuuzhan Vong, Jag had returned to the Chiss Ascendancy, and Jaina had returned to her Jedi duties. Finding themselves on opposite sides of the conflict with Killiks, Jag had led the Chiss forces, while Jaina and several of her fellow Jedi Knights had become Joiners, non-Killik species who had become subsumed into the Killik hive mind. She and Zekk, another Jedi Knight, had bonded both through the hive mind and through the Force to an unsettling degree. While the strength of that bond had long since faded, they were still attuned to each at a higher level than most Jedi.
Ultimately though, both she and Zekk had come to the realization that nothing more would come of it, and that neither of them were attracted to each other in a way that would lead to a successful relationship, much less marriage. Then, he had disappeared near the end of the Second Galactic Civil War, and had been chalked up as being killed in action. That war had been caused by her own twin brother, Jacen. Even now, years later, she couldn't understand what had led him to become Darth Caedus. Knowing that her brother had been broken in a way that could never be healed, she had been forced to kill him, in order to put an end to his suffering.
She missed him, but realized that her true brother, Jacen Solo, had been lost to her years before he had ever fallen to the Dark Side. She had only put an end to the shell that had been left over. Later, Zekk had returned, smitten with one of Tenel Ka's cousins, Taryn Zel. Given the normal amount of dislike that Hapans had for Jedi, and the royal family's former outright hatred for them, that was no small feat. However, any time Zekk had been asked how they ended up together, he always demurred, saying it wasn't his story to tell. Given how tight-lipped Hapan Nobles tended to be, trying to get anything out of Taryn was probably a lost cause, too.
Jag, too, had suffered loss and tragedy, as well. Shot down on the jungle planet of Tenupe during the Killik crisis, he had survived two long years alone, with his only humanoid companion on the planet an insane Dark Jedi bent on destruction. His last task given to him by his family as a member of the Chiss Ascendancy had been to hunt down and put an end to that same Dark Jedi, Alema Rar. Since he, Jag, had given his name and word for the parole of the Wookiee Jedi Lowbacca, the Fel family had been financially responsible for all the damage caused afterwards by her Wookiee friend. Banished as a result, Jag had thrown himself completely into the task.
With the her assistance, as well as Zekk's, Jag was able to complete his mission, putting an end to Alema Rar, who in her own way had been even more damaged than her brother Jacen had been. Resigning himself to a role as a civilian, Jag had instead been thrust again into the spotlight. After the death of Darth Caedus and the defeat of his Imperial allies among the Moff Council, her Uncle Luke had brokered a peace between the Imperial Remnant and the Hapes Cluster. The terms had been brutally simple: Accept Jagged Fel as the new Leader of the Imperial Remnant, or be executed for war crimes.
Seeing no other alternative, the Moff Council had agreed immediately. Jag had ruled with dignity, winning over the Imperial populace with the combination of his strict adherence to military discipline, as well as his ability to listen to wisdom any time it had presented itself. Then the first stirrings of Abeloth and The Lost Tribe of the Sith arrived. She and Jag had once again began to explore a relationship beyond the one they had shared during their teenage years. Jag had even proposed, and she had accepted. However, once again, oaths and duty came between them.
Jag, being unable to find a way to navigate between his responsibility to the Imperial Remnant and Admiral Daala's descent into grasping onto power as long as possible, had agreed to end their engagement. Only after realizing that he had been wrong all along to trust Daala and her intentions did Jag propose again, this time for good. After intentionally losing an election that had to be rigged so as not to be rigged; and Jaina still got a headache every time she thought about it, Jag gave up his position as the Leader of the Imperial Remnant. Participating in the military assault against The Lost Tribe, who had since taken over Coruscant, Jag had helped in the action to defeat Abeloth and The Lost Tribe, where she herself had been granted the Rank of Jedi Master.
Finally, after all the dust and chaos had ended, she and Jag had been married in High Alderaanian style, overseen by her mother, Princess Leia. Hoping for a few months to relax with her new husband, Jaina had been irritated, but not really surprised when her Uncle Luke had assigned her the mission. She was the Sword of the Jedi, after all. Her mother and her uncle had forged her into that sword, and now she was in search of the man who had tempered that sword, Boba Fett.
"Grand Master Skywalker would not have given us this assignment unless he had had no other choice," her husband responded. "He obviously has the same faith in you that I do, otherwise he never would have contacted us."
"I know," Jaina sighed. "It's just that, after literally spending almost half our lives dancing around the 'Will we, won't we?' question, I had hoped to be able to get used to this whole husband and wife thing on our own time, not everyone else's. The only example I really have for marriage was my own parents, and their lives together were as chaotic as possible."
"In that case, we'll just have to follow my parents' example instead," Jag replied. Jaina looked at him, and even though he seemed stone faced serious, anyone who knew him well enough could read his dry sense of humor on display, Force senses or not. "Okay, smart guy," Jaina quipped. "I'll take that bet. How is your parents marriage a better example than mine?"
Jaina instantly sensed a change in his mood. It wasn't quite defensive, but it was somewhat like she had felt, time and time again, when trying to explain a concept to someone who outranked her, but had no idea what they were talking about.
"I never said their marriage was better, only different," Jag replied, a little too stiffly. "You stated that you wanted a different perspective of a successful marriage, and I provided one." Jaina felt a little ashamed as her sudden anger disappeared as quickly as it began to fester. As usual, Jag had cut right through to the heart of the problem, not as a way to wound her, but as a way to support her. Even all these years later, that ability of his still managed to surprise her.
"Perhaps you're right," Jaina replied, diplomatically. "My Mom was always the one out front handling problems, which suited Dad just fine. Besides, whenever he took the lead, it often involved lots of blasters. Not exactly the best example for a Jedi Master."
"True," Jag said, nodding his head in agreement. "Princess Leia could not have stayed true to herself if she had done anything less. However, Captain Solo's example isn't to be dismissed, either." A mischievous twinkle in her eye, Jaina asked, "Oh, how so?"
"Peaceful intent is all well and good, but peace intent with a show of force is sometimes what's needed to achieve an acceptable outcome without bloodshed." Jag turned to look his wife straight in the eye. "I believe even the Jedi have used that philosophy from time to time."
Jaina sighed internally. Once again, his analysis was spot on. How often, in recent years, had a conflict been resolved amicably, if not exactly peacefully, because a Jedi had been around to keep things from boiling over. "Fine, you win," Jaina replied sarcastically.
"It was never about winning or losing," Jag replied coolly. "But, it does feel good to be acknowledged." Swinging his chair around to face her fully, he continued. "But, we've gotten off topic again. How do we go about getting in contact with Boba Fett?"
"One of the most insightful things Boba Fett told me was 'You don't find a bounty hunter, you hire them.' But, given the animosity between Fett and my family, and Mandalorians and Jedi in general, that seems like a pretty dry hole. Also, with Fett effectively ending the Mandalorian Diaspora in the early days of the Second Galactic Civil War, finding a random Mandalorian to ask is about as likely as finding a Tusken Raider on Endor."
"I don't disagree, but you may be on to something," Jag said thoughtfully. "We've been trying to find him. What would make him want to find us?"
"The better question would be, what would make him want to find us without also wanting to kill us?" Jaina replied. "Boba Fett is famous for a reason, after all." Jaina sat back to think. "Has there been any further progress on finding a cure or an off switch for that nano killer virus that the Moffs doused Mandalore with?"
Jag also sat back to think. In the ending days of the Second Galactic Civil War, the Moff Council, in an act of vengeance, had used a specifically engineered virus against Fett, using a sample taken from Fett's own granddaughter, Mirta Gev. Unlike the one used against the Verpine soldier caste on the Roche asteroid that had wiped out its target and then deactivated, the nano killer used against Fett; and by extension his granddaughter and all of his family line, was designed to effectively last forever. As long as it existed, neither Fett nor anyone else with part of his genetic makeup could ever set foot on Mandalore again without risking certain death.
"One of my first acts as the Leader of the Empire was to have all samples of the nano virus and all the research behind it destroyed," Jag replied after a long silence. "I knew that by doing so I was also destroying Boba Fett's best chance at finding a way to stop the nano virus preventing him from returning to Mandalore, but its very existence would have had too great of a destabilizing effect on the galaxy as a whole."
"I doubt Fett took it that personally," Jaina said, reaching out to console her husband. "Fett is nothing if not pragmatic, and he understood just as well as you did what would happen if that nano killer got out of control. I remember what Master Durron and my Dad told me about the effects Alpha Red had on-"
Jaina sat up in her seat so fast, it looked she had grabbed onto a live power coupling.
"Jag! You said that you had all the research and data from the nano virus in Imperial hands destroyed, right? But that research itself couldn't have come from nowhere. It came about too fast. How much you want to bet most or all of the research behind it came from Alpha Red?"
"It's possible," Jag, too, also sat up straight. "I know that the Empire, even at the height of its power, frowned upon the use of biogenic weapons, purely out of self-interest. The problem, though, is that almost everyone who had any knowledge about Alpha Red, like Cal Omas, are long dead. Anyone who had any involvement in it who isn't probably wants to keep it buried as deep down as possible.
"We'd need access to old Galactic Alliance Intelligence files, as well as whatever New Republic Intelligence files still exist. Given that the GA is rebuilding after another war, again, I doubt they'd have much interest in trying to drag up something over a decade old and best left forgotten. But…"
Jaina could hear the hesitation in her husband's voice, as well as in the Force. Prior to becoming a Jedi Master, and even as a Jedi Knight, she might have blurted out the obvious question. Instead, she waited, sending out reassurance through the Force. She wasn't sure if Jag could actually feel it, but his sense in the Force became less prickly, and then finally settled.
"My uncle has told me many times," Jag started slowly, "That if I ever needed help and it was within his power to do so, he would do it without hesitation." Jag turned to look at her, and for the first time in a long time, he actually looked indecisive. "However, I don't know if my aunt would be so willing, based on what we would be asking for."
Jaina sat back into her chair again, but this time she did so to better enter a meditative state. She grabbed a hold of Jag's idea through the Force, and tried to follow it. Always in motion, is the future, Yoda had said. But Jaina had also seen many times in her meditations, that no matter how things changed, some outcomes always remained the same. She could only hope this would be one of those times.
At first, Jaina only got a jumble of images, voices, and impressions. She continued to hold on, but did so gently, like trying to hear a songbird in a room full of whirring machinery. Eventually, the other noises faded away, and the songbird, Jag's idea, came to the front. She felt danger, but not necessarily to her or Jag. It felt like a danger that was both diffuse, like a fog, but also smothering.
Jaina wanted to pull back, because of how dark it had felt. Despite that, she continued on. Jaina sensed that Wedge Antilles and his wife, Iella, would play a part in their path, but only a minor one. Instead, she kept sensing something else, something familiar. Once again, she grasped at it gently, until it finally came into focus. Two people, Jaina thought at first.
No, it was three people, but two were so alike as to be brother and sister. But that still didn't feel quite right. Not brother and sister, she finally realized. Father and daughter. Booster Terrik and Mirax Terrik Horn. Seeing as how she didn't immediately recognize the third person as her fellow Jedi Master Corran Horn, that meant the third person could only be one man. A man her family had known and trusted before she had even been born.
"Talon Karrde," Jaina said, opening her eyes. "Yes, we'll need to reach out to Wedge and Iella Antilles, but after that, we'll need to get in touch with Booster Terrik and Mirax Terrik Horn, as well as Talon Karrde."
Chapter Three
Kyle Raeger entered the coordinates into his X-Wing's navicomp, which in turn, sent the information to his R2 unit, Switch. Something of a misfit like himself, Kyle had given him the name Switch after discovering that upon his manufacturing, instead of receiving a proper designation, like R2-D2 or R5-G8, the first half of his designator had instead been transposed backwards, resulting in R2-2R.
Knowing that very few people or companies would want the droid due to the difficulties associated with his transposed designator, his manufacturer had originally scheduled him for demolishing. It was only by luck or by the influence of the Force that he and his Master, Corran Horn, had been touring the plant at the request of the GA Government. The Outer Rim company who had used to operate the plant had had a history of bribing or intimidating local and even GA inspectors who came to the site to check for violations. Seeing that the only other alternative would have been to send in at least a platoon's worth of armed soldiers who's itchy trigger fingers had only just started to begin relaxing after the Yuuzhan Vong War, the GA had sent out a request for Jedi to intervene.
At first, Kyle hadn't really understood why Master Horn had been so giddy when he had received the components to build his own lightsaber. He had been so focused on the task set in front of him, that he had completely blanked out. He would later recall Grand Master Skywalker telling him that after he had completed constructing his first lightsaber, he would be apprenticed to Master Horn. He had nearly fled back to his dorm room to start putting it together. He wasn't even sure now if it had been the first chirp or even the fourth or fifth from his comlink that had finally penetrated the joyous haze he was wrapped up in.
"So kid, are you done yet?" Master Horn said, teasingly. "I've been waiting at the shuttle pad for over an hour." Master Horn had chuckled, and then tsk'ed him over the comlink. "When I was your age, I had already constructed my first lightsaber and taken down an entire pirate band singlehandedly."
"Umm, Master Horn," Kyle eventually stammered out. "I thought when you were my age, you were still in the Corellian Security Force Academy, and that you didn't even find out about your Jedi heritage until you were in your late 20's or early 30's."
"You know what, I think you're right, Kyle," Master Horn replied. "But that still doesn't excuse why you're so late. Now c'mon, grab your stuff and head on over here. Where we're going, you'll have plenty of time to work on your lightsaber."
"Yes, Master," he had replied, and quickly gathered all his things up again. "I'm on my way, now."
When Kyle arrived at the hangar bay for the shuttle pad, he discovered that, much like Grand Master Skywalker, Master Horn almost always travelled with an astromech droid. It appeared to be a silver and white R2 Model with green trim. He also noticed a small freighter, which Master Horn appeared to be working on.
Dressed in mechanic's coveralls, his upper half was completely hidden by the engine he was performing maintenance on, in conjunction with the R2 Unit. Realizing he was staring, Kyle did his best to find his calm again. For him, Jedi Knights, much less Jedi Masters, had been an almost mythical thing growing up on Chandrila. Seeing Master Horn in this state was a little shocking, to say the least. The R2 emitted a short series of trilling noises as he approached the freighter.
"Yes, Whistler, I know he's here," Master Horn said, as he removed himself from the insides of the engine. "Yes, we could have been on our way two to three hours ago, but seeing as how this engine was already starting to pop out of sync anyway, we were either going to do it now, or as soon as we got to our destination."
"What is our destination?" Kyle asked. "You said I would have plenty of time to work on my lightsaber on the way, so I assume it's going to take at least a couple of days to get there."
"Closer to four or five, actually," Master Horn replied. "Normally, it would take over a week to get there from Coruscant, but the Pulsar Skate here is just as fast as the Millenium Falcon. She's also twice as pretty, with half the problems."
"Are you talking about the Skate, or me?" asked a beautiful middle aged woman with brown hair walking down the entry ramp of the freighter.
"Both," Master Horn said, reaching out and hugging her. "Kyle Raeger, meet Mirax Terrik Horn, my wife and the mother of my two children."
"Glad to meet you, Ma'am," Kyle said as he reached out to shake her hand. "Master Horn speaks very highly of you. I didn't know you would be travelling with us."
"Seeing as how it's my ship, I'll be the one piloting her," Mirax said with an easy going smile. "Besides, how else are we going to get a famous Jedi Master onto Juuntall in the Outer Rim without everyone from here to Taris knowing about it?"
"The Outer Rim, huh?" Kyle asked. "What are we doing there, Master Horn?"
"We'll be doing what Jedi do best," Master Horn replied. "Keeping peace, protecting the innocent, and serving the Force. For now though, the best way you can serve the Force is to get your gear stowed and start working on your lightsaber. I'll be along to check on you in a little while."
"Yes, Master Horn," Kyle said, as he scampered up the ramp into the freighter. As he made his way into the main portion of the ship, he overheard one last part of the conversation between Master Horn and his wife.
"So, your first apprentice," Mirax said. "Are you excited?"
"It takes a lot to get a Jedi Master excited," Master Horn replied. "But yes, this is my first real apprentice, not including Valin and Jysella. I just hope I can guide him as well as Grand Master Luke helped guide me."
Kyle had wanted to slow his pace, but he knew it was rude to listen in on a private conversation, especially one between his Master and his Master's wife. So, he was his Master's first apprentice. The thought excited and terrified him at the same time. One of the first lessons he and every other Jedi Trainee learned was about Anakin Skywalker's fall to the Dark Side, and how Master Obi-Wan had blamed himself for it.
One of the most important things he was taught by Master Kam at the Jedi Academy was to never act out of fear or aggression. He knew that Master Horn would confide in him when he was ready. Until then, he needed to follow his Master's instructions. He found his way to his bunk room quickly, and did what seemed to come more and more naturally these days. He sat on his bed and started to meditate. He focused on clearing his mind of all distractions, concerns, and fears.
Kyle wasn't sure how much time had passed, but when he opened his eyes, Master Horn was coming into the room. He eased himself out of his meditations, only to find he had unconsciously levitated himself, again. Master Tionne had complimented him for how quickly he had mastered the technique. Kyle was glad to receive the praise, but in truth, it irritated him a little how often he did it without realizing it. Not wanting to worry or burden Master Tionne, he had confided in Master Kam about his feelings. Master Kam had nodded sagely, then had given him some important perspective.
"Two things to keep in mind," Master Kam had said. "First, don't dwell on the irritation too much, lest it become an avenue for the Dark Side to gain a foothold. Second, and more importantly, you'll gain more control the more you do it. Also, it's when we let go and let the Force guide us that the most insight comes through. So, if you find that you keep doing it, no matter how much you try to control it, try embracing it, instead. Let me know if you have any more troubles or concerns."
"Ah yes, levitation," Master Horn said with a sigh. "I can make myself disappear, and make an entire classroom of Jedi Trainees think they're seeing something that's not there, but I can't even levitate myself ten centimeters off the ground."
"I'm sorry, Master Horn," Kyle replied. "I have a bad habit of doing it unconsciously, no matter how much I've tried to control it."
"Don't be," Master Horn said, smiling openly and genuinely. "And don't try too much, either. We serve the Force, we don't control it. Trying to dominate the Force is one of the quickest and most brutal paths to the Dark Side."
"Yes, Master," Kyle replied, feeling ashamed.
"No need to be ashamed, Kyle," Master Horn said soothingly, pouring reassurance into the Force. "Wanting to be able to control your abilities is good. It gives you a goal and something to work toward. But it can also cause impatience. Whenever you're trying to grasp at something that seems just out of your reach, try to remember the things you have accomplished, and what it took you to get there.
"I was jealous of how easily all of the other students I learned with were able to move rocks and even small boulders with ease, while I nearly exhausted myself just trying to move the smallest pebbles. After a while, though, I learned that not only was that a trait among all the male heirs of the Force in my family, but that I had some very unique abilities in the Force."
"Such as?" Kyle asked.
"Well, you've already seen and experienced one of them first hand," Master Horn answered. "The other one is pretty unique. I can use telekinesis, in the right circumstances. I can absorb and redirect massive amounts of energy, and use that as a means to fuel my telekinesis without injuring myself. I haven't found the upper limits of that ability yet, but it's not something I go out of my way to do, either.
"Remember, a Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never to attack. So, if you're always levitating when you meditate, maybe the Force is trying to tell you something. Try listening to it. It just may surprise you.
"Now then," Master Horn said, sitting down and shifting his weight on the bed. "I'm sure there are a few things you wanted to discuss."
"Yes, Master," Kyle said. "I do want to get started on my lightsaber, but I also wanted to know why we're headed all the way to the Outer Rim. Does it involve anything to do with the Yuuzhan Vong?"
"No, thankfully," Master Horn replied. "They seem to still be abiding to the terms of the treaty that ended the war. No, we're heading out there for some old fashioned Jedi business: putting an end to greed, corruption, and the exploitation of the innocent and downtrodden."
"So why take me along?" Kyle asked. "I haven't even finished constructing my first lightsaber, yet. Shouldn't you be bringing along a more experienced apprentice with you, or even a full fledged Jedi Knight?"
"No, for a couple of reasons," Master Horn said, shaking his head. "First and foremost, we're not expecting too much trouble on this one. All we'll probably be doing is taking care of some local crime boss trying to intimidate some poor workers and a local politician or two into 'looking the other way' while they do something they shouldn't be doing. I can handle that on my own, just fine. Second, as you so eloquently pointed out earlier, before I became a Jedi, I was in CorSec. So I have a lot of law enforcement training that most Jedi just don't have or were never able to pick up."
"Okay," Kyle said. "But that still doesn't answer my question. Why am I here?"
Getting to that, now," Master Horn said, winking at him. "Like I said earlier, I'm one of the few Jedi with any kind of practical law enforcement experience. We have plenty of Jedi who are good soldiers and warriors, some who are good diplomats and scholars, and even healers such as Master Cilghal who a thousand credit per hour doctors consult with on a regular basis. With that in mind, Grand Master Skywalker has charged me with a new task: to train Jedi who can serve the Force and better work with law enforcement at the same time.
"Like I told you, we've had our eyes on you for quite some time now. You're inquisitive, thorough, and never take things at face value. While those are good skills for a Jedi to have, they're invaluable to a trained law enforcement investigator. But at the same time I'm teaching you, you're going to be teaching me. You are going to be my first apprentice."
"I know," Kyle replied. "I heard your wife talking to you about it when I was walking up the ramp."
"Yes," Master Horn said, with a little sigh. "You can always trust Mirax with the delicate jobs."
"What do you mean?" Kyle said, with a confused look on his face.
"I had already told her about my concerns with accepting my first apprentice," Master Horn replied. "So, Mirax being Mirax, she intentionally brought it up when you were in earshot, but not directly involved in the conversation, so I'd be forced to address it."
"That sounds like a very Jedi-like thing to do," Kyle quipped.
"It does, doesn't it," Master Horn replied. "Now that that's out of the way, why don't we get started on putting your lightsaber together."
"I was hoping you would say that," Kyle said with a smile on his face. "I'm not truly an apprentice until I construct my first lightsaber."
"We'll be sure to take our time," Master Horn replied. "When I constructed my first lightsaber, I had to do it in a hurry because I had no other choice. I was very lucky that it didn't blow up in my hand when I turned it on for the first time; and yes, I know that Grand Master Skywalker often quotes Master Obi-Wan saying there's no such thing as luck, but that's the only way I can describe it.
"We're not going to do anything fancy, like my dual phase lightsaber, or even a shoto saber. Also, get any ideas of using a crossguard lightsaber out of your head right now. I know a few of the more ostentatious Jedi Knights have been trying to bring them back into popularity, but those designs are just as likely to injure the Jedi who wields it as the person they're trying to use it against."
"No problems there, Master," Kyle replied. "I remember the example of Queen Tenel Ka of Hapes, so I'm going to be very careful."
"Good to hear," Master Horn said with a hint of a smile. "So for starters, let's see what we've got to work with, here."
Chapter Four
"Corellian ATC, this is the private freighter Temperance Pride, requesting clearance for a landing vector," Jag said into the intercom next to the pilot's seat. He and Jaina had agreed that he would be the one to make contact once they reached Corellia, since despite his more Imperial background, he could pull off a more convincing Corellian accent. It never ceased to amaze him that, despite the fact that he had been the legitimate Head of State of the Empire for several years, no one seemed to recognize his voice unless he was standing in front of the Imperial Seal, surrounded by holocams and reporters.
"Acknowledged, Temperance Pride," the customs and immigration officer on the other end responded. "Please state the purpose and duration of your visit."
"Standard maintenance cycle," Jag replied. "We may also be looking into any local goods we can purchase for trade on our next port of call."
"Sounds good, Temperance Pride," the officer said, clearly wrapping up. "Anything to declare?"
"Not really," Jag said, hoping the words didn't come out wrong. He'd never been good at feigning the nonchalance that came to most Corellians naturally, but the officer either didn't notice, or didn't seem to care. Jag sighed to himself. One hurdle down, who knew how many more to come.
Three hours, and one completely legitimate transaction to obtain maintenance services on their ship later, Jaina and Jag found themselves walking the streets of Coronet, the capital city of the planet of Corellia. Jag had initially balked on admitting that their freighter's cargo bay held not goods, but instead two X-Wing starfighters. However, Jaina had reassured him that since they had identified themselves as an independent freighter, it was expected that they would be providing their own escorts while in the less civilized portions of the galaxy. Leaving them with a polite but stern warning not to even approach the starfighters, they had left the maintenance techs to their tasks.
Wedge had maintained the favor of the populace of Corellia, if not the government, so he was still able to live openly. Despite that, he and Iella had moved; at Iella's insistence, not his, to even more secure civilian quarters for retired military officers. Given that he had been surreptitiously kidnapped by the GA government not too long ago, Wedge had put up only the most perfunctory of objections, for appearances sake. Not wanting to put either his uncle or his uncle's wife on edge, Jag had commed them from the maintenance hangar on a secure frequency before heading out.
Jaina had insisted that they walk the two kilometers to his uncle's residence, while Jag had wanted to take a transport. She had raised a good argument for her decision, though.
"Just because we're operating on a task with no clear timetable," Jaina had said, "doesn't mean that we shouldn't be careful. That immigration officer may not have recognized you from just your voice, but we can't expect that of everyone we meet. Also, a Jedi Master shouldn't be blanking or erasing people's memories unless absolutely necessary."
As much as Jag was hesitant to admit it, her points were not only well thought out from what he understood as the Jedi point of view, they were also sound from a military point of view, as well. He also admitted to himself that, despite the seriousness of their task, he was actually enjoying himself. They were supposed to be on an extended honeymoon of sorts. At least, that was the reason he had told his uncle when he'd commed him. He hoped his uncle wouldn't be too upset when he found out the real reason they were here. Given what he knew of his uncle's military career, he suspected that even if he was upset, he wouldn't show it.
Their circuitous but lazy route had actually taken them a little longer than the initial two kilometers, but once again, Jag saw the wisdom beneath the surface. They had stopped into several shops, both as a way to strengthen their cover with the authorities, and as a means to see if they were being followed. One clothing store they visited had instantly put Jag on edge. When he had expressed his desire to skip it, Jaina had told him to 'think of it as an adventure'.
"Hello," the store owner said, greeting them affably. "How can I help you today?"
"Yes, please," Jaina said with a slight grin. "We're looking for some goods to purchase, but I also wanted to get my husband some nicer clothes than the mechanic's coveralls he seems to live in."
The store owner, who was slightly plump but obviously in both good health and good spirits, looked Jag over a few times. She took on a thoughtful gaze, and then clapped her hands.
"I have just the thing," she said, while walking further into her store. "Follow me, please."
What followed had strained almost every ounce of Jag's considerable patience, ingrained after long years of military service. He had been handed article after article of clothing to try on, with the occasional giggle emitting from his wife and the store owner at what seemed to be far too frequent intervals. Near the end, he had begun to feel like some kind of bizarre art piece or media advertisement. Finally, they had approached the transaction terminal, and paid for the clothing, along with a few other sundry items. Jag had tensed up at first, until he realized that Jaina had paid for everything using an undercover but otherwise completely legitimate account that had been provided by the Jedi Order for specifically those purposes. What had seemed like an eternity had only taken a little over an hour.
"Okay, you can relax now," Jaina said, hugging him closely as they walked down the street. "You know, you really do look handsome in those new clothes."
"I hope my uncle won't be too upset," Jag said, wrapping his arm around his wife. "I had told him we were heading there directly."
"Yes," Jaina said, nodding. "Which is why, right after you disconnected, I contacted Iella and let her know we'd be doing some tourist-type things and enjoy ourselves. I'm pretty sure she got the message."
"Good," Jag replied, evenly.
"Ready for something to eat?" Jaina asked.
"No, I think we should keep moving," Jag said, after checking his chrono. "We've seen enough."
"Sounds good," Jaina said. "Maybe we can invite them out to dinner after we visit for a bit."
The conversation, which was as casual as any other between a couple, had another meaning. Jaina had covertly asked him if he had noticed anyone or anything, like a droid, following them. Jag assumed that her finely honed Jedi senses had not been alerted by anything, either. Walking past another shop, Jag looked into the transparisteel window, pretending to be considering their wares. Instead, he was looking both behind them and across the street as they walked. Nothing gave him an itchy feeling, and he trusted in his wife's abilities in the Force implicitly.
"I think we've kept them waiting long enough," Jag said, appearing to all the world as just another happy couple.
Wedge Antilles, hero of the New Republic, hero of the Galactic Alliance, and hero of Corellia, answered the door. He was a little under average height, even shorter than his wife, Iella. Years of wearing baggy X-Wing flight suits had unconsciously conditioned him to wearing comfortable clothing, so easing into civilian life had been much easier for him than many others. Despite that, Jag had finally insisted on he and Jaina being dressed as nicely as possible. Jaina had finally relented, agreeing that anyone who came to visit would have been well dressed out of respect for Wedge's career and his accomplishments. So it was a little comical that Jaina was dressed in a tasteful evening gown, Jag next to her dressed in a well tailored suit, while Wedge was dressed in a comfortable T-Shirt and loose jogging pants. They all sat down on a couch in Wedge's spacious quarters.
"I know what you're thinking," Wedge said after everyone was seated. "Why would I have ever agreed to this amount of wasted space?"
"Nonsense, Uncle," Jag replied almost automatically. "After all you've accomplished, you're entitled to your comfortable retirement."
"Retirement," Wedge said, chuckling. "In our line of work, Jag, we rarely get to retire."
"I don't know about that," Iella said, joining them. "You'd think he'd been ready to retire for years, now."
"In this case," Wedge said, sighing, "retiring means sitting and doing nothing while I have to watch my daughters put themselves in harm's way, instead. I survived some of the most dangerous space naval battles in history and slept like a baby, but just the thought of Syal being out there was enough to keep me awake all night, staring at the ceiling.
As for Myri," Wedge said with a sad smile, "I don't even know where she is, and I know better than to ask."
"Sometimes it has to be that way," Jag said. "We knew the sacrifices we were making when we signed up for this type of service."
"Well then," Iella said, "why don't we get to the real reason you're here."
"We had hoped to avoid involving you in anything uncomfortable," Jaina said, "but we need your assistance. Specifically yours, Iella." Jaina sensed Iella's surprise and hesitation through the Force, but none of it showed on her face.
"Pay up," Wedge said, with a smile on his face.
Iella visibly sighed, reaching over to her purse. She then pulled out a 100 Credit Chit, and placed it in Wedge's outstretched palm.
"Did we miss something?" Jaina asked, confused.
"We have an ongoing bet, Iella and I," Wedge said with a smile. "Whenever someone comes around unannounced, we place bets on who they want to talk to and why. Seeing as how both you and Jag are both accomplished pilots, I was pretty sure that anything other than a well-wishing visit would be to talk to Iella. Iella guessed that you wanted to talk to me about more recent events, get my perspective sort of thing."
"I wish it was as simple as that," Jaina sighed. "The last time we had anything resembling an actual family gathering was back before Jacen took his ill fated turn to the Dark Side."
Wedge knew that trying to hide his emotions from a Jedi Master was a near impossibility. His family, despite the dangers they had faced, had come through the last few years relatively unscathed. Jaina's, on the other hand, had been irrevocably altered. He knew that he should be grateful for that.
"Thank you," Jaina said, looking wistfully. "So, about why we're here. You know about as much as everyone else does about the recent incidents involving The Lost Tribe of the Sith and how they tried to take over Coruscant and the Galactic Alliance. What I'm about to tell you is for your ears only."
Jag placed his hand on his wife's arm, prompting her to stop.
"Sorry, Jaina," Jag said. "Before she continues, I assume that you regularly sweep your quarters for listening devices, correct?"
"Iella does it at least two to three times a week," Wedge replied.
"I'm sorry," Jag said. "But I'm going to need to insist that she does so now, before we continue."
Wedge had never known Jag to be paranoid in all the years he had known him. Whatever they needed to talk about must either be very important, very sensitive, or, more likely, both.
"As you wish," Iella said, getting up. For the next five minutes, as her husband and her guests made small talk, she swept the room for listening devices. Finally, she settled back down on the couch, and gave the all clear signal.
"Once again, sorry," Jag said. "What we need to ask could potentially put you in danger, as well as possibly constitute treason. Please continue, Jaina."
"Okay, where was I?" Jaina asked. "Oh yes, the Lost Tribe. Like I said, most people know by now about what happened recently on Coruscant. What's not being widely disseminated is that the former Chief of State, Rokari Kem, before even setting foot in the Senate, had already been consumed and replaced by a dark Force Entity named Abeloth."
"So, those twelve Jedi Knights Luke just sent out-" Wedge started to say.
"Are not out searching for the Lost Tribe, no," Jaina answered. "We already have a pretty good idea of the home planet that the Lost Tribe came from. We at least know the name. Sorry, but I can't tell it to you."
"Understood," Wedge replied.
"More importantly," Jaina continued, "The Twelve Knights are being sent out to gather as much info on Abeloth as possible. The task that Uncle Luke assigned me is a backup plan, both in the event that Abeloth returns, or if the remainder of the Lost Tribe ever comes back. Uncle Luke wants me to find and convince Boba Fett, or at least his granddaughter Mirta Gev, to train an elite group of Jedi how he trained me."
"Okay, I get all that," Wedge replied. "But what's so secret about wanting Boba Fett to train a few Jedi? I don't think he cares about competition, and knowing that some Jedi are even more effective would probably discourage pirates and other undesirables from making trouble."
"The problem is getting him to cooperate at all," Jaina said. "Boba Fett would probably never want to see any of us ever again, much less train another Jedi. So, we need something to offer him. Something he can't find anywhere else."
"The cure to the nano killer virus that's on Mandalore," Iella said, leaning forward to join the conversation.
"Exactly," Jaina replied. "But it has to be genuine, and it has to be given freely. Otherwise, not only would we have an enraged Boba Fett hunting us down, but myself and any other Jedi involved would be taking a huge step towards the Dark Side of the Force."
"As soon as I took over control of the Empire," Jag began saying, "I had all stockpiles and all data concerning the nano virus project destroyed. However, following a little deductive reasoning, Jaina realized that there was a high probability that the previous biological weapon created during the Yuuzhan Vong War, Alpha Red, may have been the basis for the Empire's nano killer virus."
"It most likely did," Iella replied, to the surprise of everyone else in the room. "After Vergere destroyed the original batch of Alpha Red by rendering it inert, the decision was made to share all the research with the Imperial Remnant, as well as a working sample, in the event that the Galactic Alliance was defeated."
"How did no one find out?" Jaina asked, surprised.
"When the only field test was conducted with Alpha Red," Iella continued, "it was discovered that the agent was able to quickly mutate and infect other compatible or similar lifeforms to the Yuuzhan Vong. As soon as this was discovered, all research into Alpha Red was stopped. Then, once the Yuuzhan Vong were defeated, all active samples were destroyed, and all the research data was locked away and encrypted at the highest levels. It was suspected that if word got out that the newly formed Galactic Alliance government had contemplated genocide on a massive scale to end the war, entire star systems might have revolted, throwing the galaxy into chaos again.
"Cal Omas ordered GA Intelligence to discreetly make contact with the Imperial Remnant, and request that all samples and research into Alpha Red be destroyed, as well. The contacts in the Imperial Remnant gave their assurances that all the samples and data had been disposed of. Not wanting to start another conflict, Omas decided to simply accept it and move on."
"So," Jag said with a sigh. "The Empire's nano killer came directly from the research done on Alpha Red?"
"Without any other evidence to contradict that, yes," Iella finally replied.
"So, again," Jaina continued, "with no data left or way to access it in Imperial Space, the only likely location of the data or a working sample is somewhere in Galactic Alliance territory."
"Also correct," Iella agreed.
"Will you help us locate it?" Jaina asked.
"That depends on what you intend to do with it," Iella replied, evenly.
"I intend to give it to Boba Fett," Jag said, leaning forward. "The continued existence of the nano killer virus on Mandalore is a stain on the honor of the Empire. Both it and that stain must be removed before the Empire can stand before the galactic community without its head held in shame."
"Would you excuse us for a moment," Iella said, getting up and motioning Wedge to follow.
Jaina and Jag waited patiently for more than five minutes, as Wedge and Iella had what appeared to be an animated conversation. Jaina, showing all the patience of Jedi Master, sat quietly without saying a word. Jag, due to his years of military service, was no stranger to remaining quiet through awkward silences. He had usually spent them standing at attention, so being able to remain seated was a pleasant change. Finally, Wedge and Iella came back into the room.
"First off," Iella began, "I want to let you know that I trust both of you implicitly. That being said, I cannot say the same about Boba Fett or anyone else you may come into contact with during your search."
"Understood," Jag said, mirroring his uncle's earlier statement.
"Second, as you pointed out earlier," Iella continued, "giving you access to a working sample, or even the data, could constitute treason. I'd rather not have to move again, after we worked so hard to settle in."
"I can respect that," Jaina said, preparing to leave.
"You didn't let us finish," Wedge said, seeing Jaina beginning to rise. "Iella specifically can't assist you, but we didn't say that we wouldn't help you."
"Is this one of those 'certain point of view' things"? Jaina asked.
"Pretty much," Wedge replied, handing Jag a small object. "Iella may be compelled by oath not to assist you, but not me, and not others."
"What's this?" Jag asked, looking at the small device that had been given to him.
"It's a short message from Iella and myself," Wedge replied, "to Booster and Mirax. In it, we ask them to help you in whatever way possible."
"Thank you," Jaina replied.
"Now," Wedge said, getting back up, "since you're both dressed so nicely, how about I put some proper clothing on, and we all go out to eat and catch up on everything."
"It would be our pleasure, Uncle," Jag said, getting up as well.
Chapter Five
Now that Kyle had entered the solitude of hyperspace, he decided to review everything he knew so far. His search for any details about Abeloth for the past six weeks had turned up nothing, so he had decided to turn his attention to the Mortis Monolith. Unlike the planet Abeloth had been imprisoned on, which was nearly impossible to access without the aid of the Force, the Monolith had been spotted a few times in the intervening years since Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi's near disastrous encounter decades ago. In reviewing the records that still remained in the Jedi Archives, Kyle had noticed a similar sense of circumstances that he and his Master, Corran Horn had faced.
Kyle walked behind his Jedi Master, Corran Horn, as they moved down the ramp of the Pulsar Skate. Master Horn's R2, Whistler, also followed after them. Kyle's new lightsaber hung loosely from the clip on his belt. It has taken approximately 4 days to complete the construction of the lightsaber. While Master Horn had helped him a little, offering advice here and there, he had told Kyle that the majority of the task had to be done by himself.
"While it's true that any Jedi can theoretically use any lightsaber," Master Horn had told him, "the stronger the connection between the lightsaber and the Jedi, the more effective it will be, and I'm not just talking about in combat."
"How do you mean?" Kyle asked.
"A Jedi who is more in tune with their lightsaber will also be more in tune with the Force. That's why even Jedi who focus almost completely on healing or diplomacy or other less militaristic aspects of the Force still build one. It allows us to better connect with the Force on a fundamental level. So it's very important that you be the one to construct it, and no one else."
"I understand, Master," Kyle replied.
The Khyber crystal he had been provided was, for all intents and purposes, a standard variety example. When it came time to fit the jewel into the hilt, it had actually been Mirax who had provided it. Upon overhearing part of the conversation between her husband and his apprentice on what type of jewels to use and what colors they would produce, Mirax had left and returned with a jewel that vividly shifted color depending on what angle light hit it and the observer viewed it from.
When Kyle had first turned on his new lightsaber, he had felt a powerful electric sensation go through him. Master Horn had warned him to expect it, so he wouldn't drop it. Kyle had used many training sabers during his years at the Academy, and had even practiced with a real lightsaber a few times, but this was different. His Master had told him that the sensation was the lightsaber 'coming to life' for the first time.
It hadn't hurt, exactly. For a non-Force Sensitive, there might have been the slightest tingling feeling, but nothing more. For a Jedi, though, the effect was much more intense. The best way to describe it had been a feedback loop. He had felt the not-quite sentient pulsing from the Khyber crystal magnify and pour into him, while at the same time, a part of him had poured itself into the lightsaber, as well.
The blade of the lightsaber shot out of the hilt and stopped at just over a meter long. It was a lighter shade of blue than the traditional Jedi lightsaber blade, and appeared to have picked up the jewel's tendency to shift colors. Kyle had seen flecks of gold, silver, purple, green, and even occasionally red flash throughout the shaft of energy. The red color had worried him, at first. He knew that, despite not having any inherent malice in and of itself, the color red was predominantly used by Sith and other Dark Side Force users. Once again, though, Master Horn had put his fears to rest.
"Red lightsaber blades occurring naturally are actually pretty rare," Master Horn said. "The Sith who use them force the crystals to grow that way while artificially manufacturing them. When the crystals are growing, they pour fear, hatred, malice, and other aspects of the Dark Side into them. It's true that this makes the blades hotter and able to even sometimes cut through other lightsaber blades, but there's a big risk."
"How so?" Kyle asked.
"The Force is life itself," Master Horn replied. "The way life grows is by nurturing it, caring for it, loving it. Some Jedi choose to artificially create their jewels, as well. When they're growing them, they do the opposite of what the Sith do. That creates a symbiotic relationship. For Jedi, we freely give of ourselves, and our crystals do the same. In essence, we feed each other through the Force, strengthening the bond.
"The Sith and other Dark Side Force users do the opposite. They force their jewels to feed them through the Force, and in turn the Force feeds upon them. That's why almost all practitioners of the Dark Side look old and wizened. Even the ones who don't end up looking like Emperor Palpatine will often develop pale skin and red or yellow molten colored irises. Eventually, the Dark Side consumes them.
"There are stories in the Jedi Archives about Sith whose lightsabers failed spectacularly in combat. Most of the stories tell how the jewel cracked, and their lightsabers died, shortly before they did. Some exploded, unleashing all the fury of the Dark Side built up in them, which also killed their users. There were even rumors of a jewel created through the means of Sith Alchemy, forbidden even by the Sith themselves.
"The Dark Lord of the Sith who created it intended it to be a means to allow him to sap the life force out of anyone he wielded it against. It supposedly allowed him to remain young and avoid the ravages of the Dark Side for over a century. The Jedi Archives aren't clear about what happened next; probably deliberately. After living for over a century, he quickly wasted away and died, and all his knowledge died with him. There was a footnote from a Jedi Archivist, about 500 years or so before Palpatine's purge, that speculated that the jewel may have become so corrupted by the Dark Side that it had turned on the Dark Lord and consumed him, and that there was nothing he could do to stop it."
"Wow," was all Kyle could say.
Master Horn then got up and touched a panel in the room they were in. The time was displayed there both in Galactic Standard Time, and the time of their destination, Juuntall. Master Horn then consulted his own chrono, and motioned for Whistler to come over to the panel, as well. Whistler connected to the data port, and made some trilling noises.
"Whistler says we'll be arriving within the next two hours," Master Horn said, turning to look at Kyle. "Get all your gear together for a final check, and then meet me in the Forward Lounge in one hour."
"Yes, Master," Kyle said as his hooked his new lightsaber to his belt and made his way to his bunk. Once again, he was faced with the combination of excitement and terror about going on his first assignment as a Jedi Apprentice. Falling back on his earliest training, Kyle decided to meditate in the time he had before he was supposed to meet Master Horn. He positioned himself on the floor instead of on his bed, in case he began to unconsciously levitate during the meditation again.
After easing himself into a comfortable position, he began to truly meditate. Like Master Horn had said, his new lightsaber began to affect his meditations in subtle but noticeable ways. Now, instead of very vague shapes and indistinct impressions, he was beginning to get a clearer view. Part of him realized that he had begun to levitate again. This time, though, he did all he could to fully embrace it.
Kyle was vaguely aware that his lightsaber, which he had unhooked and set aside, also began to levitate in front of him. The same pulsing sensation he had felt when he had first turned it on returned, but it was deeper and more encompassing. He once again felt himself voluntarily pouring into the focusing jewel, and the jewel reciprocating through the Force. Suddenly, everything snapped into crystal clear focus.
He saw his Master running down a tight and claustrophobic corridor, deflecting back blaster bolts. He saw himself pounding on an access panel. He saw Master Horn hesitate as a thermal detonator was tossed at the two of them. He saw himself talking to an unknown R2 Unit. Finally, he saw himself in a vicious duel, his lightsaber clashing against a metal blade that somehow glowed an iridescent color, his opponent's face hidden by the glow and the sparks of his lightsaber making contact.
Kyle fell to the floor as he lost his concentration. He looked at his chrono, and saw that he had twenty minutes before he was supposed to meet Master Horn. He was drenched in sweat. He had just enough time to jump into the refresher and change out of his clothes and meet Master Horn. He went about his frantic tasks as quickly as possible, but his mind kept coming back to the unknown figure with their face cast in shadows.
After descending the ramp of their ship, Kyle and Master Horn, along with Whistler, had been met with what seemed like half the planet's government officials. Juuntall was a sparsely populated world that had escaped the Yuuzhan Vong's drive through the galaxy to the core systems by the simple reason of not being important enough to invade or even attack. All of them seemed to be nervous, but Master Horn, who obviously noticed, didn't seem to care. As a Jedi Apprentice, it was his responsibility to follow the lead of his Master whenever possible. Since Master Horn ignored it, he did, too. They all climbed aboard a large capacity speeder and took off.
"We're so pleased to have a Jedi Master as famous as you visit us, Master Horn," the first politician said. "When we heard of your arrival, we were delighted and rushed out to greet you."
The other politicians made similar statements and gestures. Kyle could feel the disgust rolling off his Master in waves. Despite that, he continued to smile and nod where appropriate. Kyle was amazed that the disgust coming from his Master, despite usually being a negative emotion and one that led to the Dark Side, felt clean to him, instead. If anything, it felt like someone doing a necessary but distasteful task, and just trying to get it over and done with as soon as possible.
After what felt like hours but what only took twenty minutes according to his chrono, they all arrived at a nondescript building with the words GALACTIC AUTOMATA MANUFACTURING LTD emblazoned on the front. Master Horn got out first along with Whistler, as Kyle followed after him. The politicians gave them the same obsequious statements and fake praise, and then promptly left. They had said that another speeder would return in two hours time to pick them up and return them to the Pulsar Skate. Master Horn then composed himself into what appeared to be an intimidating but not overtly threatening posture, and beckoned for Kyle to follow him.
Master Horn opened the doors like a man bent on destruction. Even though he knew it was all an act, Kyle was still surprised by it. As soon as the doors closed behind them, another set of doors on the opposite side of the room opened up. A woman dressed in what apparently qualified as middle management or junior executive attire and wearing a pair of fashionable glasses was waiting for them. Her presence in the Force was very shrouded, like someone who constantly worked at keeping their real intentions hidden.
"You feel it too, don't you?" Master Horn asked. "Well, don't worry. Executives and bureaucrats often give off that sense. As long as you keep your wits about you and your senses open, you'll be fine."
"Greetings, Jedi Master Corran Horn," the woman said as they approached. "I don't believe I've met your companion."
"Kyle Raeger, ma'am," he said, reaching out to shake her hand.
"Ah yes, introductions," she said, taking the outstretched hand. "I'm Collette Kurashi. I'll be your guide on your inspection tour."
"Glad to be met, Ms. Kurashi," Master Horn said, also shaking her hand. "This is my R2, Whistler. He'll be assisting us with our inspection, as well."
"As you wish," Collette said, walking back through the doors. "We can begin right away, if you'd like."
"Yes, I'd prefer that," Master Horn replied.
"Our first stop will be the security station," Collette said, looking back over her shoulder. "While I'm sure you'll want to inspect it, we have another reason to visit it first."
Collette waved her hand over a recessed portion of the nearest wall, and a section shot upward. She walked through the hidden doorway and into what appeared to be an annex of the main security office that Master Horn already knew was a few floors up. There were three men dressed in paramilitary outfits with blaster carbines across their backs, and blaster pistols in holsters on their hips. All three men looked up, and one who was obviously on guard duty placed his hand on his blaster pistol before returning to a more relaxed position. It seemed to Kyle to be overkill for a company that produced droids and little else of any commercial value.
"I know what it looks like," Collette said, turning back around to face Kyle and Master Horn. "Trust me, the level of security we have is necessary. While we do manufacture non-combat droids only here, we have contracts with multiple star systems to create the programming for combat systems for single droid units up to the control systems on warships. That intellectual property alone is worth billions of credits."
"I see," Master Horn said, noncommittally.
"We have two of these satellite security stations on every floor," Collette continued. "As you can see, even the entrances are hidden. They are at different positions on each floor, to prevent the discovery of any one location to betray the locations of all the rest."
"Sensible," Master Horn replied.
"The only way to locate them is through the ultraviolet range," Collette said, pointing at the door jamb they had entered. "For beings who can see in the ultraviolet range naturally, the identifiers will look like scratches or imperfections in the materials used to manufacture the corridors."
"How do beings who don't see in the ultraviolet range find them?" Master Horn asked.
"Our security personnel wear specially treated contact lenses," Collette replied pleasantly. "For others, such as myself, we wear disguised glasses with the same specially treated film."
Collette handed over her glasses to Master Horn. She could apparently see perfectly fine without them. Master Horn held the glasses in front of his eyes, and then turned around to face the hidden doorway. He then passed the glasses over to Kyle, who looked through them, himself. Right above the door jamb, he could see three or four scratches arranged in what appeared to be a random pattern. Kyle then handed the glasses back to Collette.
"Due to the cost of manufacturing these glasses," Collette continued again, "I'm afraid that I can't give you any, but I can provide you with an earlier model. Please don't use them indiscriminately. We do want to keep their purpose a secret, after all.
"Now, for the last thing we're here for," Collette said, waving them over. "Please place your hand over this sensor, and put your face up to this glass."
Master Horn walked up to the station first, and held out his hand. A scintillating blue-green light appeared, and then changed to solid green. Next, he put his face up to the spot on the glass that Collette had indicated. Once again, the same scintillating blue-green light appeared, and then also changed to a solid green color. Next Kyle repeated the process.
"Thank you," Collette said as she guided them back out. "You can now access any part of the factory except those limited to the executive board or the chief of security. Just wave your hand or present your face to the glass plate, and you'll be let in. If the light flashes yellow, comm me and I'll arrange for someone to let you in. If the light flashes red, back away slowly. If you try to force your way through, it will cause the building to lock down, and security will respond within 20 seconds."
"Good reaction time," Master Horn said, nodding toward Collette.
"Please don't try to test the security teams. We don't pay them for their sense of humor," Collette said, as she handed Master Horn a small object, holding a similar looking one in her other hand. "Here's the ultraviolet detector I mentioned. You hold it up like a glow stick and depress the button on the side. It shoots out a stream of light that makes the ultraviolet tagging visible.
"Here's one for your apprentice, as well," Collette said as she handed the one she had used to demonstrate to Kyle. "You'll be free to move about on your own, now. If anyone gives you any trouble, comm me immediately."
"Alright, Kyle," Master Horn said as Collette walked away, "let's get started."
Chapter Six
"You've got to admire Booster's stubbornness," Jaina said, turning to look at Jag. "He must be getting close to a hundred years old, but he's still going."
"My father called it the Corellian Curse," Jag replied. "First, you're too young to know any better. Later, you're too old to care. He said it was the main reason why so many Corellians were part of the Rebellion, and also why it probably succeeded."
Jaina and Jag had spent two days en route to the location of the Errant Venture, Booster's private Imperial Class Star Destroyer. The story behind how he acquired it had become the stuff of legends in smuggler circles. While it had originally been painted white like all the previous Imperial Star Destroyers before it, Booster had eventually been able to get it painted red. Whether or not the red color was more or less intimidating than the bone white Imperial one was up for debate. Now, instead of being a warship of immense destructive power, it was a mobile gambling palace that served both its wealthy well-to-do clients, as well as the occasional smuggler.
"Independent Freighter Temperance Pride to Errant Venture," Jaina said into the intercom, "requesting permission to dock."
"Errant Venture here, acknowledged," the ship's officer responded. "I have you listed here under special priority docking. Hold, please."
Jag turned to look at his wife, quizzically. Jaina just shrugged.
"Thank you for holding," the officer said, coming back onto the intercom. "Transferring now…"
"Did you know anything about this?" Jag said, as he quickly muted the microphone.
"I'm surprised as you," Jaina said, shaking her head.
"Jag! Jaina!" exclaimed a familiar voice across the intercom. "We're so glad you decided to stop by on your honeymoon!"
"Good to hear from you, too, Mirax," Jaina responded as she unmuted the microphone. "We were kind of hoping to make a quiet entrance."
"Understood," Mirax replied. "Wedge contacted us and told us to expect you. Tell Jag to plot his course to the Flag Hangar. We'll meet you when you land."
"Acknowledged," Jaina replied as the intercom disconnected, and turned to Jag. "Flag Hangar? I'm not exactly familiar with that term."
"It goes back to when this ship was under the control of the Empire," Jag replied. "When an Imperial Star Destroyer served as the flagship of an Admiral or Senior Commander, the private hangar closest to the command deck was reserved for them. Technically, it allowed the Fleet Commander to quickly arrive and leave the ship when needed. Unofficially, it was used so that all the high ranking officers could quickly flee the ship, in the case of imminent destruction or mutiny."
"Must be charming," Jaina said, sarcastically.
"Specifically for us," Jag continued, "it provides a much more private hangar, with limited means of access from the rest of the ship, which also means less chance of anyone we don't know or want seeing us or even knowing we're here."
"Makes sense," Jaina replied, easing back into her seat as her husband plotted the course to their destination.
Upon landing in the Flag Hangar, Jaina and Jag were greeted by three people, whom they both immediately recognized. First and hardest to miss was Booster Terrik. While his advanced age required him to use a repulsor chair to get around most sections of his ship, he insisted on being personally present for as much of the day to day business as possible, much to the chagrin of the woman standing next to him. Mirax Terrik Horn, Booster's daughter and ostensibly second in command of the Errant Venture, was the antithesis of her father in every way but one.
While Booster was over 2 meters tall with silver white hair and could be as intimidating as an angry Wookiee, Mirax was just over a meter and a half tall with plain brown hair. While no one could accuse her of being physically intimidating, anyone who had gone up against her in a business deal quickly found themselves wishing they had been dealing with her father, instead. While being the daughter of one of Corellia's most notorious smugglers had opened a few doors for her during the early days of her career, she had quickly established her own reputation as a tough and shrewd negotiator. When her father had been sentenced to the Spice Mines of Kessel for smuggling, she had become successful on her own after taking over his old ship, the Pulsar Skate.
The third and final person was somewhat of a surprise. Seha Dorvald, promoted to full Jedi Knight after her involvement in the Second Galactic Civil War, had been instrumental in the successful insertion of several Jedi Masters into the Senate Building in the run-up to Admiral Daala being deposed. While she had originally conspired against the Jedi Order with Jacen Solo before he announced and renamed himself Darth Caedus, afterwards she had worked diligently to redeem herself. Later, she had been apprenticed to Jedi Master Octa Ramis. It was during the mission to covertly insert Jedi into the Senate Building that she had met Javon Thewles.
While Seha had been masquerading as shuttle pilot Sela Dorn, Thewles had been tricked into letting her remain on station in the Senate Building after a cleverly rigged engine malfunction had covered them both in extinguishing foam. Being almost instantly smitten with Seha, Javon had agreed to take her out to dinner as an apology. After Seha was exposed and arrested, Javon himself had also been arrested on charges of conspiracy and attempted murder. While both eventually had the charges against them dropped, Javon had been forced to resign from Galactic Alliance Security as a result.
Before his resignation was complete, Javon had arranged to interview Seha, suspecting that an unknown third group was using the Jedi Action as cover. It was during that interview that Seha saw him for more than just a Security Officer, and had begun to develop feelings for him, as well. Taking personal responsibility for Javon's forced resignation, Princess Leia had added him to a short-lived security contingent for her 'adopted daughter' Amelia Solo. After the need for the security contingent had passed, and having no other prospects, Javon had signed on as a civilian security consultant for the Jedi Order. While Seha had volunteered to be his liaison, it was an open secret that the two had begun dating in earnest and had used the opportunity to spend more time together.
"Greetings, Master Solo," Seha said, an impish smile creeping onto her face. "Or do you prefer Master Fel, now?"
"Master Solo will do perfectly fine, Jedi Dorvald," Jaina replied with a semblance of the grace and strength that seemed to come so naturally to her mother.
"Glad to have you aboard, Jag, Master Solo," Booster said, getting out of his repulsor chair and shaking both Jag and Jaina's hands. "At first, I didn't particularly like the idea of Jedi returning to the galaxy, but an old man's allowed to change his mind and learn from his mistakes. Of course, having two grandchildren who are accomplished Jedi Knights doesn't hurt, either."
"Thank you, Captain," Jag replied formally, falling back on the Chiss tradition of acknowledging someone by their position or rank instead of by name.
"Wedge mentioned that you needed our help," Mirax said evenly. "He also said that you had something for us."
"Yes," Jag said, handing over the holorecording.
"We'll watch it later," Mirax, accepting it. "For now, though, let's get you settled. We do need to maintain the pretense of you being here on your extended honeymoon."
"Do you mind if we stop by for dinner?" Seha asked. "I don't think Jag and Javon have met yet."
"Of course, Jedi Dorvald," Jag replied. "I would be honored to meet him. I've learned that anyone a Jedi deems worthy of trusting is a person not to be dismissed lightly."
Jaina was impressed with how thoroughly Booster had managed to change the entire character of the Virulence, as the Errant Venture had previously been known. For over two decades, Imperial Star Destroyers were the most visible symbol of the Empire's overwhelming power and ability to cause destruction on a massive scale. While Grand Moff Tarkin had used the Super Laser from the first Death Star to obliterate Alderaan, it had been quickly destroyed afterwards. Later, during the Battle of Endor, the second Death Star had also been quickly destroyed, along with Darth Vader's personal Super Star Destroyer, the Executor.
While a few Star Destroyers were still in use by the Galactic Alliance, with the Chiss using their own variation, they no longer represented the malice and cruelty that the Empire had imbued them with. Furthermore, Booster had also consciously avoided the sort of sterile, closed off feeling on the inside of the Star Destroyer as well, with the use of vibrant colors and decorations whenever possible. Mirax was obviously beginning to have an influence, as well. While Booster's decor had always created a pleasant atmosphere, the subtle changes Mirax had made was attracting more and more female patrons.
In order to keep up their cover, Jag and Jaina had been obligated to stay in the garish and overpriced honeymoon suite. Both were uncomfortable for their own reasons. Jaina, a Jedi Master, despite being the famous daughter of an even more famous mother and father, had devoted herself to an ascetic lifestyle when she became a Jedi. Jag himself had come from an equal level of wealth and influence in his childhood, but had also been raised in a very austere military lifestyle, so had eschewed what he considered the bourgeois existence afforded to him. Seeing their obvious discomfort, Mirax had gone out of her way to keep them out of their suite as much as possible. Of course, on a ship dedicated to decadence and gambling, that proved to be a monumental task in and of itself.
Fortunately, one of the changes Mirax had made, at the request of her Jedi Master husband, was the inclusion of an indoor arboretum. It had proved very popular with families, and the visitors from highly industrialized worlds such as Coruscant and Bonadan marveled at the diversity of plant and animal life. Because of the amount of life present, Jaina had immediately felt at ease. Jag, after getting over his subconscious memories of Tenupe, had opened up, and even marvelled at the sights and sounds around him. So, it wasn't surprising that Mirax found them there wandering alone together, when it was time to view Wedge's message.
"Now that we've taken care of all the other important ship's business," Mirax said with the hint of a smile, "we can get to the reason why you're here."
"Please," Jaina said. "It really is pleasant here, but the longer we stay, the less likely we are to succeed."
"Follow me, please," Mirax said, directing them to the exit.
They quickly found themselves inside what appeared to be one of the few original areas of the Star Destroyer Booster hadn't renovated.
"Good to see you two again," Booster said from his chair. "I wasn't too keen on filling my ship with all kinds of flora and fauna, but after Mirax showed me the increased revenue, even I had to admit defeat."
"We're ready," Mirax finished saying into her comlink, then turned to Jaina. "Seha asked to be present, in case she or Javon or both of them could be of any help on your task."
Jaina simply shrugged, and turned to look at her husband. Jag nodded his head.
"Any assistance they can provide will be most welcome," Jag said evenly.
A few minutes later, Seha Dorvald and Javon Thewles walked into the room.
"Thank you for letting us help," Seha said. "I owe the Jedi Order a great deal for trusting me again. This is Javon."
"Javon Thewles," he said, shaking Jag's hand. "Jedi Order Civilian Security Consultant."
"Good to meet you, Lieutenant Thewles," Jag said, addressing him by his former rank.
"The rank is more of a courtesy than anything else, but thank you," Javon said, smiling.
"You earned that rank through good and honorable service," Jag replied. "To do anything less would demean you and your accomplishments."
"Thank you," Javon said, with a relaxed smile.
"Alright, enough yakking," Booster grumbled. "Let's get this over with so I can get back to work."
Mirax and Jaina both smiled. Despite his gruff exterior, both women knew that Wedge was one of the few people in the galaxy that Booster would drop absolutely everything for at a moment's notice, regardless of the consequences.
"Here we go," Mirax said, inserting the datachip and stepping back. Wedge's head and upper body appeared, about the size of a storage container.
"Greetings Mirax, Booster," Wedge's recording began. "I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to catch up since the most recent events of galactic importance. I sent Jag and Jaina to you for two reasons. First, I trust them and Luke Skywalker, implicitly. I have no reason to doubt them or the sincerity of their mission. Second, you two are probably the only ones with the access and resources needed to help them. This isn't the kind of mission where I can hop into my X-Wing and shoot something down.
"Iella can't help, because of the oaths she made to both the New Republic and the Galactic Alliance. Even the Wraiths can't help them, and there's absolutely no way I will contact Lara Notsil. She and Myn have earned their retirement and their happy lives. So few of us get there, so interrupting it is not something I'm prepared to do. Neither of you is bound by any oaths, and Corran, also being a Jedi, would likely feel compelled to assist, so I wouldn't be causing any marital strife between you and your husband.
"Please keep in mind that you're under no obligation to help, but both Iella and I would appreciate any assistance you could offer."
After the holorecording ended, Booster ran his fingers through his white beard, and Mirax appeared pensive, pursing her lips. Jaina wanted to try to read either of them through the Force, but decided that doing so would be a violation. Jag being Jag, simply stood stoically next to her. She could feel concern radiating off Seha, but Javon was as stone faced as her husband. Finally, after a long silence, Booster looked back up at them.
"While I did originally question Wedge's judgement when he joined the Rebellion," Booster said, "I've never had a reason to question his judgement in matters of character. I'm in."
"Me too," Mirax replied. "I've known Wedge since we were kids, and he's never steered me wrong. If he hadn't convinced me to give Corran a real chance, we wouldn't be married now."
"General Antilles is right about another thing," Seha said, moving up to the front of the group. "Any Jedi would be compelled to right an evil this dark. I'm in."
"Princess Leia, and later the Jedi Order took care of me," Javon said, moving up to stand behind Seha and put his hand on her shoulder. Seha moved her hand to rest on his with obvious affection. "They viewed my compassion and willingness to trust others even when I had no reason to do so as a strength, and not a weakness. Grand Master Skywalker once told me that the greatest gift of life is to willingly give of itself. I can and will do that, however I'm able."
"Then it looks like it's settled," Booster said, reaching for the comlink built into his chair. "There's just one more person I want to try to wrangle into this…"
"Talon Karrde," Jaina said, an eerie feeling coming over her.
"Damned Jedi mind readers…" Booster grumbled playfully as he turned to start speaking into his comlink.
"I have to warn you," Jaina said, turning to face everyone else. "I had a presentiment in the Force that this could be very dangerous, not only for us personally, but for the galaxy as a whole."
"Nothing new for me," Mirax quipped.
"If even half of what Seha told me is true," Javon replied, "then I'd have to be crazy not to be scared. But, I also need to be brave enough to face whatever may try to harm our family."
"Javon!" Seha said in simulated anger, although some of it appeared to be genuine.
Jag looked as close to outright shock as his military demeanor allowed. Jaina whipped her head around, nowhere near as stoic as her husband and not bothering to hide her surprise. Mirax, for her part, merely smiled. Booster was running his hand through his beard, a hint of a smile hidden behind it.
"Fine, yes…" Seha said, exasperated. "Javon asked me to marry him. I said yes. That's what we're here to celebrate. Although I had wanted to tell Master Solo privately, at that dinner invite I mentioned."
"Ooops," Javon said deadpanned, an obvious play at banter.
"If you and Jag or Grand Master Skywalker and his wife are any example," Seha said, sighing, "I guess I shouldn't be expecting any quiet home life in the near future, anyway."
"As long as you understand the level of danger we might be walking into," Jaina replied, "I'll welcome all the help we can get."
"Just got done speaking to Karrde," Booster said, rejoining the conversation. "He doesn't particularly care to come this deep into GA Territory, and us bringing the Errant Venture to him would gain him more attention than he wants right now."
"Sadly," Mirax said, "the Pulsar Skate is also a little too well known, even with a fake transponder. I'd say our best bet is to keep using your freighter, Jaina."
"I agree," Jaina said. "But I also have to point out that there's no way Booster could leave the Errant Venture without attracting attention. If both of you leave at or near the same time, there's no way we could keep this quiet."
"I've known for years that my smuggling days are behind me," Booster said with a touch of melancholy. "I also know that despite her skills, Mirax always preferred running legit, anyway."
"Better money, better hours," Mirax quipped.
"You've already done all I could hope for," Jaina said soothingly. "Realistically, Talon Karrde is the only person we could trust something like this with and not be worried about a double cross or holding back on us."
"You're welcome to join us, Jedi Dorvald, Lieutenant Thewles," Jag said graciously. "Our bunk space is somewhat limited, but I doubt that will be much of a problem."
"None at all," Seha said mischievously, while Javon theatrically rolled his eyes and pretended to be annoyed.
"Well then, welcome aboard," Jaina said.
Chapter Seven
Kyle was awoken by Switch broadcasting a trilling noise into the cramped cabin of his X-Wing starfighter. Like many Jedi, Kyle was able to travel vast interstellar distances in his X-Wing using a Jedi hibernation technique. Ever since learning the technique, he had used his R2 partner as the mnemonic to awaken him from his self-induced coma-like state. He had been a little surprised at first when he saw where the last credible sighting of the Mortis Monolith had occurred, but he reminded himself that there were very few true coincidences where the Force was concerned. He was returning to where it all had began.
The inspection of the plant had gone smoothly for what seemed like hours. Master Horn, along with Whistler, seemed to go in and out of offices, production floor rooms, and even storage closets at random. They had found most of the hidden security rooms on their own without needing to use the devices that Collette had provided them, but still used them to confirm what they'd been told. Everything had gone smoothly, until some dept head had objected to their presence.
"Excuse me," a high pitched voice behind them said. "Just what are you doing here?"
Kyle turned around to see a short, stocky man dressed in the most ridiculous colors he had ever seen. His jacket, tunic, pants, and tie all seemed to be battling for the most obnoxious color possible. Kyle had to force himself to stop staring. The movement of his clothes and their colors had an almost hypnotic effect as he walked up to them.
"I asked you a question!" the man shouted at Master Horn, now less than a meter away from him.
"Jedi Master Corran Horn and Jedi Apprentice Kyle Raeger," Master Horn said patiently, "here on behalf of the Galactic Alliance Government. We're conducting an inspection."
"A likely story," the man sneered. "Show me some ID. Now!"
Kyle pulled out his Jedi Order identification card, and passed it to Master Horn, who was getting his own out. As soon as Master Horn held both in his hand, the pompous executive practically snatched them from his hand. Even though his facial expression never changed, Kyle felt Master Horn's burst of anger and irritation before it was quickly released. The executive looked closely at both ID's before handing them back to Master Horn.
"Let's say I believe you," the executive said. "I still want to know why you're here and why I wasn't told about it."
"Give me a moment," Master Horn said, pulling out his comlink. "I'll contact Miss Collette Kurashi. She should be able to straighten things out for you."
"Di-did you say Miss Kurashi?" the executive stammered, while all the color drained from his face. "As in, Chairman Collette Kurashi?"
"She only gave us her name," Kyle replied, accepting back his ID. "She never told us her position. We figured she was kind of important, though."
"I-I have to go now," the executive said stiffly. "Sorry for troubling you."
The executive ran off as fast as his stocky frame could manage, and quickly disappeared from sight.
"Kyle," Master Horn said, his voice quiet but as firm as permacrete, "take Whistler with you, and go to the next office you find on your right hand side. Scan for anyone both visually and through the Force. Then scan for any surveillance devices; both audio and holo. Once you've done that, send me a signal through your comlink, and wait for me to arrive."
"Yes, Master," Kyle replied blankly.
Master Horn then became fuzzy as he turned and moved, completely disappearing before he took his third step. Kyle did as he was ordered, and took Whistler with him. He found the room Master Horn mentioned, and motioned Whistler towards the door. He held his hand over the sensor plate on the door, which quickly turned to green. Once inside, he reached for the light panel, before Whistler issued a short burst of noises that sounded like a negative.
Of course, Kyle realized, chiding himself. If there were audio or holo sensors in the room, turning on the lights would simply make it easier for them to be detected. Kyle placed himself on the floor in a meditative pose, and reached out with the Force. While he wasn't as proficient as Master Horn in being able to pick out individuals and accurately placing them; something Master Horn called his Sphere of Responsibility, he was more than qualified to know if anyone was within ten or twenty meters of him. While anything beyond fifty meters got fuzzy for him, he could easily tell that he and Whistler were alone.
"All clear, Whistler," Kyle said quietly.
This time, Whistler replied with a slightly louder series of trilling musical notes that seemed to indicate everything was clear with him, as well. Kyle reached into his pocket, and pulled out his comlink. He switched to a frequency used almost exclusively by the Jedi Order, and sent two short coded messages: "Secure" and "All Clear". Kyle put his comlink back into his pocket and sat back to relax.
"Now," Kyle said, "all we do is sit back and wait."
Several floors down, a specialized comlink set to scan for unusual frequencies pinged. The only person in the office reached out, and queued up the messages to be played. It took a scant few seconds for the computer built into the desk to break the encryption and produce the messages. They were a variation of standard New Republic military codes, used when a sniper or scout had secured a forward position and was waiting for further orders. So, the Jedi had split up, just like her Master had predicted. Next to her, her more normal comlink pinged.
"Yes, what is it?" Collette asked, listening to the stocky executive who had arrogantly interrupted Master Horn and his apprentice.
"No, leave them alone for now," Collette replied, and terminated the connection.
She had enjoyed seeing the look on his face through the holocam feed when her name had been mentioned. He had reacted in a properly fearful manner. She had toyed with the idea of having him marched into her office and executed for bumbling into her plan. Her Master had left his fate completely up to her. She knew that her Master viewed compassion as a weakness, but that he also recognized the value of a tool or slave beyond petty emotions like anger or jealousy.
True, emotions such as fear and anger fed the Dark Side of the Force, but she had to be their master, not the other way around. One time, her Master had seen her let her emotions take control of her. He had warned her that a Sith Apprentice that could not control her emotions was as dangerous as a pet that had become feral, and would be put down just as quickly. His warning had been as clear as it had been ruthless. A further example had been made of one of her competitors less than a week later. His shrieks of agony had filled the halls of their training facility for what seemed like hours, and had echoed through her mind for days.
"Let them search all they want," Collette said into the darkness of her office. "If they find nothing, fine. However, if they do find something, all the better."
Collette's Master had said that she had excelled beyond the point where the gladiatorial slaves could be of any benefit to her training. Perhaps the young Jedi Apprentice would provide her and her new blade with a proper challenge. She opened a secret drawer in her desk and pulled out her custom made Naginata. A full sized example of the weapon could be over two meters in length. Hers had been modified with the lower half of the staff being removable, as well as the curved blade being increased in length. While this had made the weapon heavier at first, Collette had developed her own fighting style that had surprised even her own Master, who himself had mastered every form of lightsaber combat known.
His only contribution to the weapon had been a single jewel, mounted onto the hilt, which had been awarded to her when she had defeated the only other Sith Candidate. She had allowed him to live, which had confused and angered her Master at first. She had explained her reasoning, though.
"By allowing him to live," she had said, "it will cause a desire for vengeance to burn in him, making him an excellent rival. Also, if I do fall to him, it will be because he has truly become more powerful than me; and to a Sith, power is what is truly important."
In the end, she had killed him, anyway. Less than a month later, he had foolishly challenged her in a duel to the death, which her Master had approved. Her Master had told her that the jewel he gave her would allow her to better focus the powers of the Dark Side through herself and through her weapon. With every knick and cut inflicted on him, she had felt part of him being drained into her blade. By the time she had dealt the fatal blow, he had been little more than a wild animal. Even now, months later, she could still savor his fear any time she held her weapon. Perhaps she would get to taste the young Jedi's fear before he, too, succumbed to her blade.
Corran Horn acknowledged the message from Kyle, then put his comlink into complete standby mode. He wouldn't be able to receive any messages until he turned it back on, but it would prevent a call or message prompt or even a vibration sound from giving away his position. He had to be careful how he used his Jedi abilities. His ability to blank or alter others' perceptions of him, when used defensively, was as close as any Jedi could come without diving straight into the Dark Side of the Force.
Leaving Whistler behind with his apprentice was a calculated risk. It was technically possible for him to blank any sensors from detecting both life form signs and electronic signals, but it would have taken a significant amount of his attention to do so. Right now, stealth was the most important factor. As long as Kyle had the good sense to listen to Whistler and stay put, they should both be relatively safe.
Corran hadn't detected anyone close to him, but he still maintained a low level of his ability as he dashed from shadow to shadow and corridor to corridor. The longer he remained undetected, the less likely he was to put his first apprentice into danger. He had no doubt of Kyle's skill, but his lack of experience made him too much of an unknown quantity. He also had to admit to himself that Kyle had been right. Whatever this mission had started out as, it was no longer a simple inspection.
"So," Kyle asked Whistler, "how long do you think it'll be before he comes back?"
Whistler emitted a series of morose sounding tones, and pointed his holocam lens at the door.
"Yeah," Kyle replied, "I hope he comes back, too."
Kyle looked at the chrono on his wrist. The speeder they were promised was due to arrive within the next fifteen minutes or so. Unless he and Master Horn left soon, they could end up trapped here. Kyle felt himself starting to panic, so once again, he did what he knew best at times like these. Kyle made himself comfortable on the floor, and then turned to look at Whistler.
"If I start floating," Kyle said, "don't be alarmed, and please don't make any loud noises."
Kyle then set his lightsaber on the floor in front of him, and prepared himself to enter a meditative state. He wasn't sure if it had been five seconds or five minutes, but like usual, he began to levitate. Also like last time, his lightsaber started levitating, too. He let go of his fear, and instead focused on his concern and compassion for Master Horn.
After what seemed like a few moments, he began to get impressions again. He could see Master Horn moving discreetly from on spot to another. He could see guards who, somehow, seemed to have been alerted that something had gone wrong. He also began to sense something dark, just at the edge of his consciousness. It seemed to be searching for him, too.
Kyle's lightsaber began to tremble in mid-air, and then ignited. It began to weave complex patterns in the air, then finally settled on a single direction. Kyle felt through his connection with the lightsaber that something important lied in that direction. The urge to seek it out was nearly overwhelming.
Kyle and his fellow trainees had been warned about such impulses. They had been told over and over that giving in to them could lead you directly to the Dark Side. However, this sensation felt different. Something similar to his Khyber crystal, which was somehow both not alive but also somehow sentient, was suffering. Yet it wasn't in pain as he knew and experienced it.
Regardless, its suffering and sense of loss was like a morose melody flowing through the Force. Kyle opened his eyes, and looked at his lightsaber. It was still floating in air, ignited. Though he couldn't see it, he could feel the line it was pointing him towards. Master Horn had ordered him to stay in the office, but he could feel that whatever it was that was suffering was close to death or destruction.
His mind made up, Kyle grabbed his lightsaber out of the air and deactivated it. He closed his eyes, and focused on the impression of the line. He could see it clearly, and also see where it ended. According to the map that Master Horn had shown him, it lead to one of the smaller manufacturing bays. Kyle gently floated himself back down to the ground, and headed for the door. Whistler immediately reacted, emitting a burst of musical tones.
"I don't know," Kyle admitted, guessing what Whistler was asking about. "All I know is, if I don't go 'now', something innocent and suffering is going to die or be destroyed."
Whistler was bouncing up and down on his legs, sounding even more excited and desperate.
"No, you can't come," Kyle said, guessing at his intention. "If you get spotted, we could all end up dead, including Master Horn."
At that, Whistler simply popped out his his center stanchion, and headed for the door. He made a very irritated sounding series of tones that left no doubt about his intention to go with Kyle, whether he liked it or not.
"Fine," Kyle said, "but don't blame me if we end up with blasters shoved in our faces."
Kyle and Whistler left the office they had been staying in, and made their way carefully through the dark and seemingly abandoned corridors. Fortunately, the manufacturing bay Kyle was being drawn to was only a short distance away. Once they arrived, Kyle held his hand up to the door sensor. It glowed a bright yellow, and a short error beeping occurred. Kyle considered contacting Collette, but decided against it.
His initial impression of the woman, and later the previously belligerent executive's terrified reaction to her name gave him pause. He decided to try a different tactic, one that Master Mara Jade Skywalker had once mentioned about using the laziness or inertia of security guards' mentalities. He pulled out his comlink and thumbed it on to one of the frequencies Collette had given them.
"This is Jedi Apprentice Kyle Raeger to security," Kyle said, "please respond."
"Security to Apprentice Raeger," the bored sounding voice answered, "what do you need?"
"I need access to manufacturing bay…" Kyle paused for effect, trying to sound as bored as the security officer, "Alpha five seven gamma."
"Why do you need access, Apprentice Raeger?" the security officer replied.
"My Master said he wanted to finish up quickly," Kyle replied evenly, trying to hide his nervousness. "So he told me to check all the non-essential areas on this floor while he took care of the important stuff. It sounded like he just wanted to finish up and leave."
"Understood, Apprentice Raeger," the security officer replied. "Access granted."
Knowing or suspecting that he was under observation, Kyle waited patiently for the door panel's light to cycle from yellow to green. Once he was inside, he continued his act of inspecting the room for the next three to five minutes. He had been taught numerous times that most beings, especially humans, tended to be the most attentive in the first thirty to sixty seconds, and then the likelihood of observation dropped by a factor of ten for each minute that past. Only after he was sure that he was no longer being monitored did he start looking for the source of whatever had called him here.
Kyle closed his eyes and focused on the Force, and found the line and point in space it appeared to be leading him to. He found a large drop cloth tossed over something. He looked at it closely, examining it with both his eyes and the Force. He couldn't see any boobytraps, and his danger sense couldn't detect anything resembling an imminent threat. He pulled back on the drop cloth, and found himself face to face with the unknown R2 Unit from his earlier vision.
"What's this R2 Unit doing here?" Kyle asked.
Whistler rolled up to the computer terminal next to the astromech, and inserted his data probe. A series of text started scrolling by at incredible speed, then stopped. Whistler emitted a series of tones to get Kyle's attention. Kyle moved over to take a closer look at the screen.
"Scheduled for demolishing?" Kyle asked again. "Why?"
Whistler rotated his data probe again, then made a quiet but morose sound.
"Manufacturing failure," Kyle read off the screen. "Designator mismatch. You mean he's being destroyed because his name's wrong?"
Whistler repeated his earlier mournful tone.
"We need to get him out of here," Kyle said. "He doesn't deserve to be destroyed because someone else made a mistake."
Whistler rotated his data probe again, and Kyle heard the sound of an electronic lock releasing.
"Help me wake him up," Kyle said. "We don't know how long it will be until Master Horn returns."
Suddenly, alarm sirens went off, and an automated voice reverberated throughout the room.
"Security alert, security alert, this is not a drill," the computerized voice announced. "All security report to the first floor processing center. Repeat, this is not a drill…"
Chapter Eight
"If I had known it was you, Jaina," Talon Karrde said gallanty, "I would have dropped everything and been here two days ago."
"Booster said you were busy," Jaina shrugged. "Besides, our trail is so cold, unless our hypothetical quarry catches on, we have all the time we need."
"True," Karrde said with a gracious smile. "Even a sure thing can be messed up with the wrong approach."
Upon his arrival, Karrde had asked to meet privately with Mirax first, and then Booster. Jaina had suspected they were discussing business she was best left out off, being a Jedi Master. While both Booster and Mirax had been legit for years, Karrde still occupied that gray area that made most smugglers avoid Jedi like blastonecrosis. It had probably been because of his long association with her aunt, Mara Jade, that Karrde had maintained a cordial relationship with the Jedi Order. Even now, years later, Jaina still felt loss over her death at the hands of her brother, whom she herself had been forced to kill.
"Now that we've gotten the pleasantries out of the way," Karrde said with a genial smile, "what can I do for you?"
"We need help," Jaina answered. "The kind of help only you can provide."
"So I hear," Karrde replied, putting up an affable front. "The question becomes, what's it worth to me?"
"Really?" Jaina asked in disbelief. "You're actually asking me that question?"
"Yes, I am," Karrde replied, dropping all pretense. "No matter how much I try to control it, word of my meeting with you is going to leak out. If I suddenly start helping the Jedi or the GA Government without getting anything in return, my contemporaries; and more importantly, my competitors, are going to wonder why."
"Won't they believe you're doing it out of the goodness of your heart?" Jaina asked, patiently.
"Sadly, no," Karrde replied. "Smugglers by their very nature are a distrusting lot. No matter what I tell them, they'll always be looking for the angle. I think, though, we can come to a simple accommodation."
"What's that?" Jaina asked, clearly tiring of the gamesmanship.
"You agree to allow me to exploit any and all knowledge gained from what you find," Karrde offered.
"Completely out of the question," Jaina replied, trying to mimic her mother's diplomatic skills. "I'm no more comfortable with you having access to that data than whomever may have it now."
"Does that include Boba Fett?" Karrde asked with a sly grin.
"Am I supposed to be surprised that you know that?" Jaina asked with an irritated sigh.
"Fine, then," Karrde said, sitting forward, "let's cut to the chase. Have I ever lied to you, your family, or anyone that you're aware of?"
"In actual business dealings, no," Jaina admitted.
"Good," Karrde said, sitting back comfortably again. "So, when I tell you that anything you find related to nano killer viruses, bio-weapons, or even Alpha Red, will be kept under the tightest control possible, you'll believe me, correct?"
"What if you can't control it?" Jaina asked.
"If it comes to that," Karrde said, acknowledging Jaina's concerns, "then I have two options: Destroy the data and any samples you find, or, turn everything over to the GA Government for proper disposal; for a hefty reward, of course."
"Of course," Jaina said, sighing, as she accepted the inevitable. "But, you also wouldn't be pushing so hard if you didn't already have a solid lead."
"That's what I've always liked about, Jaina," Karrde said with a genuine smile. "You're as sharp as your mother, but you don't have any problems with getting your hands dirty, just like your father."
"So," Jaina continued, "you either already knew what we were looking for, had an idea what it was, or deduced what we needed before we had even contacted you."
"A combination of two and three," Karrde admitted, uncharacteristically. "Your profile as the pre-eminent Jedi warrior means that putting you on the shelf for anything other than injuries or similar medical leave is a waste of your talent."
Jaina nodded at Karrde's assessment, but said nothing.
"That being said," Karrde continued, "while I've not always agreed with your uncle in matters such as profit or motive, he's always made perfect sense to me in the more practical matters of life. With an entire tribe containing potentially thousands of Sith out there in the galaxy now, you could only really be doing two things: hunting them down, or finding a way to take them out when they reappear."
"Do you really enjoy telling people things they already know that much, Karrde?" Jaina asked, becoming visibly tired of their verbal jousting match.
"Only when I need to show them how pointless it is to try to keep things from me," Karrde replied. "So, do you want the data, or not?"
"Yes," Jaina said, sighing.
"Excellent," Karrde replied, then tapped on his comlink. "Booster, please head out to the coordinates I provided you."
"Wait a minute," Jaina blurted out. "We're taking the Errant Venture there? What about being discreet?"
"Sometimes discreet is hiding your presence," Karrde replied evenly, "and other times it's hiding your motive. In this instance, though, we're doing both."
"How's that?" Jaina asked.
"First off," Karrde replied while counting off on his fingers, "no one other than myself, Booster, Mirax, your fellow Jedi Knight and her fiance know you're here. Second, the Errant Venture is the most notorious mobile casino and smuggler's den in the galaxy."
"Okay," Jaina said. "I follow you so far."
"Third," Karrde continued, "ever since the corporation that secretly ran the government was chased off by Mirax's husband and one of his earliest apprentices, the planet we're headed to has been as close to lawlessness as possible without managing to destroy themselves, so having the Errant Venture's weaponry will also prevent unwanted violence; up to a point."
"As a Jedi Master," Jaina admitted, "I'd like to avoid any unneeded bloodshed or violence, please."
"Then we're in agreement," Karrde said pleasantly. "We should arrive in two to three days, by which point my contacts will have made the final preparations for our arrival."
"Should I be worried?" Jaina asked evenly.
"Going to a planet with no functional government and my not feeling comfortable with anything less than the Errant Venture backstopping us?" Karrde asked. "If you're not worried already, then the Jedi Order isn't as smart as it used to be."
Two days later, the Errant Venture reached their destination. Jaina, Jag, Seha, and Javon had been surreptitiously added to the crew of Talon Karrde's personal freighter, the Wild Karrde, in various roles. Javon, being virtually unknown to anyone except his friends and family, had required no real disguise or fake documentation. In fact, Karrde had assured him that both the official and unofficial reasons for his resignation from GA Security would make people in his circles more likely to trust him.
Seha had presented only a cursory challenge. She had been provided some fake documents by Mirax, which Karrde had declared passable for the likely amount of time they would be on planet. She would once again be disguised as a shuttle pilot, which suited her just fine. She hadn't even had to change her name this time. Jaina and Jag, for obvious reasons, had presented the greatest challenge.
Jaina, as the only surviving child of Han Solo and Princess Leia, had been well known even before she had become a Jedi Knight. Now, as a Jedi Master, her fame had only grown. Fortunately, she was an exceptional mechanic, which wasn't as widely known. Posing as a downy platinum blonde, she was stowed among the crew as an engineer's mate.
Jag had actually proved to be the easiest one of all. With his years of naval service, Karrde had placed him on the bridge crew. He wore a fake cybernetic eyepatch along with a fake prosthetic arm and a voice synthesizer unit, due to Jag's fear of either his face or his voice being too easily recognized. Karrde had mentioned that the particulars of the disguise had been inspired by Wedge Antilles during his time undercover as Imperial Pilot Colonel Roat, which had pleased Jag.
"Welcome to Juuntall," Karrde announced through the ship's PA System. "We should be making planetfall in approximately one hour. All non-essential crew is free to leave the ship, but need to be back aboard no later than nineteen hundred hours Galactic Standard Time. All new crew must report to the Captain's quarters before leaving the ship."
Karrde had suggested using the ruse, since he often kept new crew members close at hand anytime he and his organization made port at a new planet or where trust was in short supply. Jaina had agreed to it, since having the four of them around Karrde despite just signing on would raise too many questions among the normally paranoid mindset known to smugglers. Fortunately for all of them, they were skilled in the fields Karrde had assigned. Javon most of all find the irony of providing security to a notorious smuggler most amusing.
To keep up their disguises, Javon had frisked each of them before they were allowed into Karrde's office. He performed the job efficiently for both Jag and Jaina. Seha, on the other hand, was a different story. Javon seemed to be very thorough in his examination, and while it didn't show on her face, Seha's sense in the Force was one of both amusement and enjoyment. Jaina smiled, and even Jag seemed to notice.
"That should be sufficient, Mr. Thewles," Karrde said, bringing their attention back around. "After all, we don't want to start any unseemly rumors among the crew."
"Yes, sir," Javon replied professionally, although Seha seemed less than happy about it.
"Now then," Karrde said, assuming control, "time to get down to business. My contacts have reported both good news and bad news. The good news is that they're fairly confident they know where any potential data you're interested in is being stored."
"Good," Jaina replied. "So what's the bad news?"
"The bad news," Karrde said theatrically, "as you'll no doubt be unsurprised to hear, is that it's probably located in the most secure location on the planet."
"Great," Jaina sighed.
"After Corran Horn and his apprentice exposed the criminal syndicate that had been running the planet in secret," Karrde explained as he steepled his fingers, "they all fled before the backup that Corran managed to summon could arrive. However, the rumor is that a few years later, one or more of the people involved in the syndicate moved back in and set up shop, this time focusing on less wholesome things, like weapons of mass destruction and biological warfare."
"What had they been producing before then?" Jag asked, his voice still affected by the synthesizer.
"Standard droids," Karrde replied. "Protocol droids, astromechs, and advanced computer AI for warships. It seems like their connections with the last one facilitated their transition to their current revenue stream."
"How come no one else noticed," Seha asked, "or even came out to check on things after Master Horn left?"
"It all happened only about six months or so before the incidents with the Dark Nest crisis broke out," Karrde answered. "With the GA Government trying to prevent another massive war from spilling out of control, the incident reports provided by Corran Horn were quietly filed away and forgotten; helped along by a bribe or two, no doubt."
"Do we have access to those reports," Jaina asked, "or even the copies Master Horn would have left in the Jedi Archives?"
"No to the first question," Karrde replied, "As to the second one, you'd know better than I would in that regard. Very little information that Luke Skywalker wants kept secret ever leaves those archives without his knowledge or permission."
"Seha," Jaina said, turning to look at her, "please have Mirax send out a coded message requesting a copy of any and all field reports from Master Horn and any apprentice with him at that time."
"Consider it done," Seha replied as she left the room.
"Has the security of the facility been checked recently?" Javon asked. "I'm assuming they weren't dumb enough to leave things as they were after Master Horn caused them so much trouble."
"I have no idea," Karrde admitted with a shrug. "But, I do have one additional piece of good news: I was able to get one of my colleagues, who owed me a rather large favor, to pretend to be interested in doing business with their weapons sales; but on one condition."
"If you," Jaina said, speaking up, "as a neutral third party, are allowed to check out their business arrangements, and make sure everything checks out."
"Glad to see all that Jedi training doesn't go to waste," Karrde replied sarcastically.
"Actually," Jaina replied, "you'll have to thank Goran Beviin for that insight. He was the one who taught me that while most people are willing to let a Jedi go about their business with little difficulty, a lot more people will do anything they can to avoid angering a bounty hunter, and to get rid of them as soon as possible."
"You can always trust a Mandalorian to be practical," Karrde chuckled, "especially in matters of avoiding collateral damage."
"How did you plot that course?" Javon asked.
"What Captain Karrde means," Jag said diplomatically, "is that destroying something or taking out someone who isn't the target is just wasting your time, and could also potentially anger the client who's paying you, neither of which will put food on the table or a roof over your or your family's head."
"Makes sense, I guess," Javon said, shrugging.
Seha came back into the room, looking somewhat confused. Jaina glanced at her, but didn't feel any fear or anything else dark from her sense in the Force. It appeared to be exactly what it seemed: genuine bewilderment. Using the lull in the conversation as an opening, Jaina moved over the Seha to see what has caused the younger Jedi so much concern.
"Mirax already got a response to your inquiry," Seha said quietly. "She was told someone was already in system and on their way to assist us."
"Who?" Jaina asked, as Karrde received a communication request from the bridge.
"Yes, what is it?" Karrde asked, turning on the intercom.
"Captain," the comms officer responded, "we have an X-Wing requesting permission to dock with us. He claims to be from the Jedi Order. I've confirmed with the Errant Venture, and his ID appears to be legit."
"Ask him to wait a minute," Karrde said, while muting the intercom. "Were you expecting anyone, Jaina?"
"No," Jaina replied, turning to Seha. "Do you know anything about this?"
"I've already relayed to you everything I've been told, too," Seha said, shaking her head. "I have no idea who it is."
"I guess we'll just have to find out," Karrde said as he unmuted the intercom. "I assume everything checks out?"
"Yep," the comms officer responded. "Scans have come back negative for explosives, hidden cargo, and anything else that shouldn't be part of a standard X-Wing. Although, our computer almost had a fit when it tried to interface with its onboard astromech. Something about trouble communicating."
"Everything get worked out?" Karrde asked.
"Yes, sir," the comms officer replied. "The pilot sent over a custom interface program which fixed it. What caused the computer to nearly lock up was one of our security programs."
"How so?" Karrde asked, tensing up.
"A false flag error," the comms officer responded. "It detected that the custom interface used some basic programming from the older CorSec days, and assumed it was trying to slice its way into our security."
"I trust that wasn't the case?" Karrde asked nonchalantly.
"Nope," the comms officer replied. "Everything's fine now."
"Okay," Karrde said, relaxing. "Permission to come aboard granted," before he turned the intercom off.
"We might as well wait for this person to arrive," Javon said. "Going into a potentially hostile environment with no intelligence is foolish at best."
"Agreed, Lieutenant," Jag replied. "I have no intention of walking into a vacuum unless I have no choice."
"Well then, it seems my duty as host are quite clear in this matter," Karrde said with a charming smile as he turn the intercom back on, "Can you please bring food and refreshments appropriate for six. Assume all the people attending are human or can eat foodstuffs made for such."
"Yes, sir," the galley crew member said before Karrde turned the intercom off again.
Five minutes later, several crewmen brought in a few tables, followed by several platters of hot and cold foods. They also set down a few carafes of juices, fizzy drinks, and a choice selection of light wines. Karrde deferred to his guests to serve themselves while he attended to some of the more mundane tasks of arranging for a landing berth and declining the extra landing fee services, which was a barely disguised attempt at a bribe by the spaceport controller. Karrde had assured him that his crew could both behave themselves and provide for their own security. That last part had been delivered with the same level of subtlety as the bribe attempt, and was received just as clearly.
Shortly after Karrde had finished his conversation with the spaceport controller, a trilling sound emitted from the door control. Javon, still maintaining his cover, answered the summons. A man with an astromech stood there. He was just over average height of a meter and a half, with rugged good looks. After Javon finished frisking him and scanning his droid, he was invited in. Upon getting a closer look, Jaina noticed a prominent scar starting just under his left eye that ran between his nose and mouth, and tapered off at his right cheek. Being the most senior member of their group available while Karrde was otherwise occupied, Jaina took the lead to greet him.
"Welcome," Jaina said, shaking his hand. "I'm Jedi Master Jaina Solo Fel. This is my husband, Jagged Fel, and my companions Jedi Knight Seha Dorvald, her fiance Javon Thewles, and of course, our gracious host, smuggler extraordinaire, Talon Karrde."
He acknowledged them all in the order they were introduced, and shook their hands, as well. Talon Karrde gave him a frank stare before shaking his hand. Jaina noticed the hesitation in the Force, but was otherwise unconcerned. Anyone in Karrde's position would ordinarily be wary of an unknown quantity, so some trepidation was only natural.
"Just out of curiosity," Karrde asked, "are you allergic to bacta?"
"No, but I get asked that a lot," he said with a genuine smile. "I once had a run-in with an opponent who used a very unusual weapon, steeped in the Dark Side of the Force. No amount of bacta could permanently remove the scarring. But, more importantly, I'm forgetting my manners. I'm currently on special assignment for Grand Master Luke Skywalker, but I was asked to assist you. My name is Kyle Raeger, and this is my R2 Unit, Switch."
Chapter Nine
Kyle eased back on the control levers to bring his X-Wing out of hyperspace. The coordinates he'd entered had brought him within less than a lightyear from the site of his first mission as a Jedi Apprentice. He reached his right hand up to feel the scar that had been with him ever since that day. Fortunately, most women he met told him it added to his rugged good looks. When the injury had occurred, though, how good it had made him look had been the last thing on his mind. He appeared in real space within visible distance of the Errant Venture, the ship he had been told to make contact with upon his arrival. It reminded him of that day, too, ironically.
Immediately after the alarms went off, he heard all the doors in the room he was in lock down, both physically and electronically. Kyle was glad he had Whistler with him, because he might have started panicking if he was alone. They had trained for this sort of thing at the Academy, but now, it was real. There wasn't going to be an end to the exercise, with one of his instructors either praising or criticizing him. If he failed, he, Master Horn, and Whistler could all end up dead or destroyed.
The first thing he did was force down his fear. Not only would it cloud his judgement, but any actions he took in that state could drive him directly into the Dark Side. He sincerely wished he had time to meditate, but for now, all he could do was take a few calming breaths, and focus. Next, he assessed his surroundings. He couldn't feel anyone near him, and he could not detect anything resembling the sense that someone was monitoring him directly. The only anger or malice he could feel seemed to be more nebulous, like it was still in search of a target.
This realization allowed Kyle to relax even more, which in turn, allowed him to better focus on his circumstances. The first thing he checked for was any alternate routes of escape. He had been allowed into the room by security, so as long as he didn't attract any attention to himself through any overt action, he should remain undetected for now. Sadly, none of the other ways out of the room, such as air ducts and crawl spaces, seemed to be big enough for him to get through, much less the two astromechs with him. Meanwhile, Whistler had continued working with the other R2 Unit they had found.
"Tell me you found something, Whistler," Kyle said, moving back over next to him. "We're in some real trouble."
Whistler rotated his holocam to look at Kyle, then emitted a burst of static that could only have been interpreted as sarcasm. He then turned his holocam back towards the other astromech, and made one final swivel of his data probe. He emitted a soft trill of success, as the other astromech came alive. It immediately started rotating its holocam around, taking in its surroundings. Upon seeing Kyle and Whistler, it immediately emitted a happy sounding series of trills and whistles.
"Hold on, hold on!" Kyle said, trying to calm it down. "Whistler, what's he saying?"
Whistler emitted a short series of low volume trills, and put a message up on the monitor. Kyle looked over to read it.
"Thank the maker I've been rescued. Please get me out of here as quickly as possible," Kyle read off, and then turned to look at the him. "What does he mean, Whistler?"
Whistler issued a series of trills again, and more text appeared on the screen.
"I told him we're here to rescue him," Kyle read off the screen again. "He was going to be demolished as soon as our inspection tour ended."
Kyle sat back and sighed, shaking his head.
"Whistler," Kyle asked, "how are we supposed to rescue him when we can't even get out of this room?"
Whistler emitted a few short trills, and received a triumphal sounding response from the other droid, as more text appeared on the screen.
"He has the access codes to all the rooms on this floor," Kyle read again. "What? How!?"
More text appeared on the screen, apparently from the other astromech now.
"I was built to interface with and test all the computer AI systems being designed here for military space naval vessels," Kyle read. "I was supposed to be designated R2-J6, but during my manufacturing, a glitch occurred, and my designation was changed to R2-2R."
Kyle looked over in horror at the droid.
"They were going to destroy you," Kyle asked in total shock and disbelief, "because a programming glitch switched your name around?"
The R2 Unit issued a series morose tones, as more text appeared on the screen.
"Yes," Kyle read, "It was decided it was more cost effective than fixing the programming glitch."
Kyle shook his head at the cold brutality of it. While technically not alive, droids such as astromechs were programmed with a form of sentience. They were as self-aware as most other organic lifeforms, so they were capable of experiencing emotions and sensations such as fear and pain. To casually destroy one because it was inconvenient absolutely reeked of the Dark Side.
"Alright," Kyle said, "let's say he's telling the truth. Can you do something about the alarms and the door locks?"
The R2 Unit issued a few tones as the word DONE appeared on the screen. The alarms stopped a moment before Kyle heard the sound of the electronic and physical locks releasing.
"Can you disable the holocams in here, as well?" Kyle asked.
The R2 Unit again issued the same tones, as all the holocams stopped moving and their lights went dim.
"Alright, let's get out of here before those security officers figure out what's going on."
The two astromech droids started to follow Kyle to the door they had entered through, as he paused and turned around.
"You really should have a name," Kyle said as he looked the other R2 Unit. "R2-2R is kind of awkward, after all."
The R2 Unit emitted a series of irritated sounding tones, which seemed to acknowledge his statement.
"How about Jeice?" Kyle asked. "It matches what your proper designator should have been in the first place."
The R2 Unit seemed to consider that, then issued a short series of negative tones.
"Yeah, I guess I wouldn't want to be reminded of the scariest time of my life every time someone said my name, either," Kyle acknowledged, then thought of something as a smile appeared on his face. "Okay, how about Switch?"
The R2 Unit seemed to consider it, then issued what sounded like a interrogative tone.
"Well," Kyle said, "if it hadn't been for that switch in your designator, all you would have done your entire existence would have been talking to AI weapons systems and telling your owner if they were too dumb to kill people or not, right?"
The R2 Unit hesitated, then issued what sounded like a grudging acknowledgement.
"So," Kyle continued, "Switch sounds appropriate. If you don't want to be looking back at what your life was or would have been, you might as well embrace what it's become and make the best of it."
The R2 Unit took a little while longer to ponder that, then issued a series of positive sounding trills and whistles.
"Alright then, it's settled," Kyle said as he slowly opened the door. "Whistler, Switch, let's find Master Horn and get out of here."
Corran Horn ran down the corridor as fast as his Force-imbued reflexes allowed. The first security guard who'd spotted him had taken only a moment to report back his position and then opened fire. Corran had been expecting a stun blast from the mechanical sense the guard had been exuding into the Force. He had prepared himself to reach down and grab his lightsaber to deflect the relatively slower ion stun bolt, and had been completely caught off guard when a full powered blaster shot set on kill was fired at him.
He had had only a fraction of a second to pull out his lightsaber, ignite it, and then deflect it in a way that wouldn't kill him or the security guard, who was simply doing his job. The Force had been with him, along with just a bit of luck, as the deflected blaster bolt had apparently hit a junction box, which had resulted in all the lights in the corridor going completely dark. Not waiting to see how the guard would react, Corran immediately ran the opposite way, which was also the direction of the majority of the dead lights. However, it was the opposite direction to the room that he had left Kyle and Whistler in. Knowing that little else could be done to make the situation worse, Corran turned his comlink back on and sent a timed message to his apprentice.
"Kyle, as soon as you get this, have Whistler start tracking me on my emergency frequency," as he switched his comlink to the pre arranged setting that he and Whistler had used as far back as their CorSec days.
Corran spend the next five to ten minutes trying to get back to his apprentice, while at the same time avoiding the security guards. Unfortunately, succeeding at the latter kept pulling him farther and farther from the former. Collette had been right, their security guards were well trained and efficient. After clearing a hallway, they set up motion sensors that appeared to be tied to comlinks on their belts. Corran had surreptitiously watched as they tested one. While he could theoretically use the Force to hide his passing from the sensors, at best it could distract his attention at a critical moment, and at worst he could accidentally trip it, instead. For now, he tried his best to avoid letting anyone, be it a security guard, a camera, or a sensor spot him.
Kyle was moving as quickly as possible, without attracting attention to himself or the two astromechs following behind him. While his abilities in the Force weren't as refined as Master Horn's, or even seasoned Jedi Knights, right now they didn't have to be. Kyle could feel the intent of all the security guards around him. They were lit up like magnesium flares in a dark room.
Kyle was even able to get a sense of where and what direction the flare, ie, the attention of the security guard, was focused in. While Whistler seemed to be preoccupied with all the action, Switch seemed to be taking the entire process in with relative ease. Kyle admitted to himself that if he had been scheduled for execution and then suddenly found himself running for his life, he'd probably be pretty germane about it, too.
Kyle had been so focused on what he was doing, that when the alert tone came in on his comlink, he had nearly fell over. Kyle pulled out his comlink, activated it, and put it up to his ear.
"Kyle," Master Horn's voice said, coming out of the speaker, "as soon as you get this, have Whistler start tracking me on my emergency frequency."
"Whistler," Kyle said, turning to look at the droid, "did you get that?"
Whistler replied with a series of positive sounding tones.
"Good," Kyle said, attaching his comlink to his collar, "Now send that frequency to my comlink, and set it up like a homing beacon. Give the frequency to Switch, too, in case we all get separated."
Kyle now heard a slow, repetitive beep coming from the comlink on his collar. He turned one direction, and then the other, to test it out. The beeping was slightly faster to his left, slightly slower to his right. Kyle then felt a shift in the mood of the security guards around him. They had changed from a mechanical sense of doing their duty, to something approaching bloodlust. He felt certain that Master Horn was in immediate danger, even more than he had been sensing earlier.
"Switch," Kyle said, "You have the locations and access codes for all the rooms on this floor, right?"
Switch bleated out a quick positive sounding response.
"Does that include the location of all the hidden security rooms?" Kyle asked.
Switch gave a quick positive response, followed by a more melancholy one.
"Don't worry, Kyle assured him. "You just find us the nearest room. I'll get us in."
Switch immediately turned right down the next intersection, as Kyle and Whistler followed him. He stopped at a blank wall, like the one Collette had shown to him and Master Horn. It had only been about two hours prior, but it felt like a lifetime ago right now. Kyle pulled the ultraviolet detector out of his pocket and used it to confirm the presence of the hidden security door.
After he found the markings he'd been shown, he reached out with the Force, and found one security guard inside. His sense in the Force, like the other security guards, was lit up, but was much more subdued. Kyle got the impression that he was either new, low ranked, or both, and had been left behind on purpose to monitor the situation remotely. Kyle reached out his hand to a similar looking spot on the wall that Collette had done, and the hidden door shot upwards.
The security guard, unconcerned about who had entered the room, didn't even bother to turn around.
"Did you get him?" the guard asked. "Can we get back to work, now?"
Kyle waved for Whistler and Switch to hold back, then quietly pulled his lightsaber off his belt.
"What's wrong," the guard asked again, "are you deaf or something?"
Kyle felt the mood of the guard go from unconcerned to immediately on edge as he stood up and turned around. Seeing Kyle there, he grabbed his pistol out of his holster and fired. Time suddenly slowed down. Kyle flicked his lightsaber into position, then ignited it. The azure blue coronal discharge of the stun bolt slowly appeared from the muzzle of the blaster, while at the same time, his lightsaber blade rose up to meet it. Kyle, going instantly into a defensive stance, backhanded the stun bolt, reflecting it straight into the midsection of the guard, who dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Kyle was suddenly aware of both Whistler and Switch screeching behind him, as well as the sound of his lightsaber. He could smell the ozone discharge in the air from the stun bolt, as well as where it had impacted on the security guard. He could even smell the caf that was still slowly cooling on the desk where the security guard had left it sitting. Finally, he could feel his hands, as they tightly gripped the handle of his lightsaber.
"Yes Whistler, yes Switch," Kyle said as he took a deep breath, "I'm okay. Now let's see what we can do to help out Master Horn."
Kyle walked up to the desk the security guard had been sitting at, and looked around. He had camera views of everything on this floor, but when he tried to change it to a different floor, he got an error message. Kyle then turned his attention to the security guard slumped onto the floor. He picked him up, and started dragging him over to a chair in the corner that was bolted down.
"Whistler, Switch," Kyle said while grunting with effort, "find me something to tie this guy to the chair. I don't want to have to keep stunning him. We might accidentally kill him or cause brain damage."
Whistler hooted triumphantly, then opened a compartment on his side, revealing a number of restraint ties.
"Of course," Kyle said, smacking himself lightly on the forehead. "You're a former police and paramilitary droid. Obviously you'd carry these kinds of things with you."
Kyle put the guard in the chair, then used the restraints on his arms, legs, and torso, just for good measure, and then went back over to the console on the desk.
"Whistler," Kyle said, visibly trying to calm himself, "you and Switch try to connect to this console and find out what kind of access our friend over there has. Be careful not to trip any security flags."
Both Whistler and Switch got to work, while Kyle dropped into the chair. Kyle recognized all the signs of shock, as he'd been taught by the instructors at the Jedi Academy. While he knew that he didn't have enough time to meditate, he did the best he could to control his breathing and to allow the Force to flow through him. His instructors had told him that his first time in actual combat would always be the worst, and that once it was done, as gruesome as it sounded, he'd be better for it. Kyle was just thankful that the guard was stunned, and not dead.
Whistler issued a series of tones that broke Kyle out of his reverie. He got up and walked over to check on what Whistler and Switch had found. Kyle watched as text on a monitor scrolled by at incredible speed. Whistler turned to look at him, as the text scroll slowed to a more manageable speed. It seemed to be a list of all the available commands with the current security guard's authorization level.
It seemed he now had access to turn on and off the cameras, open doors, restrict access to doors, and authorize access to yellow coded doors. The red coded doors, like Collette had said, were highly restricted. Kyle assumed that if he did too much, it might trip a security flag, so he had to be careful. He also assumed that if he messed with the access of any of the security guards, that would attract attention immediately, so he'd save that as a fail safe or a final fall back before abandoning his access altogether. Then a thought occurred to him.
"Switch," Kyle asked, "you said you had access to everything on this floor. Does that include the security protocols?"
Switch issued a series of trills as text appeared on the screen.
"Yes," Kyle read off, "but from the first time I use it, the odds of detection increase. I calculate that I will be able to use it a maximum of five times, but it could be as few as three."
Kyle stopped to think. One of the things that he had actually enjoyed and excelled at during his Academy Training had been critical and tactical thinking. He had even convinced a student two years his senior to take a watch shift for him, because he showed him how it would not only allow him to practice his lightsaber forms uninterrupted, but it also allowed him the chance to try to get the attention of another female student he had so far been too shy to approach when everyone else was around. Much to the other student's surprise, he had succeeded at both.
"Okay," Kyle said while pacing a little, "so adding me as a new executive officer to the company is pretty likely to get us caught immediately. How about updating an existing executive with my security profile; but not anything as blunt as an overwrite. How about an executive who's been off-planet for a while, and needs to update their credentials? Their security level would already be established, so all we'd be doing is updating the records, right?"
Switch seemed to ponder the question for a bit while issuing some warbling tones, then some text appeared on the screen.
"Theoretically, it should work," Kyle read off the screen. "As long as Whistler is helping me catch any flags I might trip, we can make the changes for you."
"Okay," Kyle said, walking up to the security scanner, "do it."
Kyle saw a security console like the one he'd used only a few short hours ago light up with the same scintillating blue glow, and then held his hand over it. It changed from blue to green quickly, then disappeared. The face scanner lit up, but Kyle hesitated. Updating the security profile with his hand was risky enough, but using his face as well seemed to be too risky.
"Whistler, Switch," Kyle said hesitantly, "are you sure using my face as well is a good idea?"
Switch issued a series of trills, as more text appeared on the screen.
"Yes," Kyle read, "the last time this executive was here was over five years ago, he was relatively low in the corporate ranks, and his profile hasn't been reviewed in over two years. All the important executives have their profiles reviewed and updated every three to six months, so it's likely security doesn't even remember his profile is still here."
Kyle smiled, then turned back to the face scanner.
"Well," Kyle said smiling, "we are here to inspect the place and find any problems, so pointing out flaws in their security is part of the reason why we're here. If they can't learn from their own mistakes, that's not our fault."
Whistler hooted in obvious amusement, followed shortly by Switch. Kyle put his face up to the scanner as it once again changed from blue to green, then pinged. The ping sound caused a spike of concern in Kyle, who turned to look at the two astromech droids. He walked quickly over to the console, and looked at the screen.
"What happened," Kyle asked. "What was that ping about?"
More text appeared on the screen, and Kyle read it off as quickly as it appeared.
"The ping was a system notification," Kyle read off quickly. "It meant that a profile with full access and admin rights had been updated. It was also prompted to ask if you wanted to end the security lockdown."
Kyle stood there, bouncing between happiness and suspicion. He had total control of security, and it seemed, no one knew it. He first instinct was to say yes and to cancel the lockdown, but then he stopped to think about it. Normally, deception was a tool of the Dark Side. However, that was usually only true when trying to deceive someone for personal gain or as a means to gain control over them. As long as he only used it as a means to potentially protect himself and Master Horn, and didn't deliberately use it to harm others, he should be okay.
"No," Kyle said, shaking his head, "don't end the lockdown. That might alert someone else to the knowledge that we've gained access. Instead, see if we can get a secure communication out to Mirax to let her know about our situation, and so we can ask for immediate backup."
Whistler acknowledged, and was quickly able to gain control of a secure communications line that wasn't being actively monitored. He alerted Kyle, who moved to the desk's built-in secure transmitter and fired it up. Whistler signaled that he was ready as the encryption indicator went from yellow to green. Kyle gave a thumbs up to Whistler, then started speaking into the microphone.
"This is Jedi Apprentice Kyle Raeger to the Pulsar Skate, over," Kyle said, "Pulsar Skate, please respond."
"This is the Pulsar Skate," Mirax responded, "what's going on, Apprentice Raeger? I expected you and my husband back almost half an hour ago."
"I need to make this quick, in case this transmission is detected," Kyle said. "Master Horn and I have been separated. Armed security guards are actively hunting us. We need immediate backup, repeat, immediate backup to this location."
"Understood, Apprentice Raeger," Mirax replied. "I'm sending out a request for immediate backup. Stay safe."
Kyle leaned back as the connection ended. So far, he'd managed to elude detection, gain access to security, rescue a droid destined for destruction, and call out for help. Now all he had to do was find Master Horn, continue to evade security, find a way out of the plant, and not get himself or anyone else killed. For any normal person, accomplishing any one of those goals would be difficult, if not impossible. He'd just have to place his trust in the Force and in Master Horn. Kyle sighed, then got up out of the chair.
"Alright," Kyle said, looking at the two astromechs, "let's find Master Horn, and then get out of here."
Chapter Ten
"Please tell me this isn't the best plan you could come up with," Jaina said.
Jaina, along with Jag, Seha, Javon, Karrde, and Kyle, were all seated at a booth in the furthest corner of the only bar their contact was willing to meet them in. Upon their arrival, Karrde has given the bartender an extra 10-credit chit to make sure the table was cleaned before they sat down. Javon, being the only one that had any formal security training, scanned their booth, as well as the surrounding tables, for listening devices. When several were found, instead of having Javon disable them, Karrde pulled out a modified comlink and flicked it on.
"We should be safe to talk now," Karrde said, placing the comlink beside him where he was sitting. "This scrambler unit is designed to mimic the readings of a failed transmitter, while also causing the listening devices to pick up nothing but static."
"Alright," Jaina said, resuming control of the conversation, "first things first: Kyle, did anything look different from our flyover from what you remember the last time you were here?"
"Well," Kyle started, "Keep in mind, that was over a decade ago. Also, the last time I was here, all I saw on the way to the plant was what we could see from the speeder we were riding in. Other than the spaceport and the exterior of the building, I really didn't get the chance to see anything. However, I did notice that the building does look like it was abandoned, or that no one has bothered to do maintenance on the exterior."
"Standard smuggler tactics," Karrde offered. "Hide in plain sight, and discourage anyone from looking closer."
"So we should proceed with maximum caution," Jaina said.
"My contact warned me that no one other than the staff knows how to get into the building," Karrde stated, "and that anyone from outside is always either blindfolded or transported inside the facility in a speeder with the windows blacked out."
"It's probably a safe bet that they'll be scanned for electronic devices," Javon offered, "so trying to track or transmit from inside the facility will likely get everyone detained or possibly even killed."
"Agreed," Karrde said. "For now, we'll need to continue this conversation later. That's our contact coming over to the table now."
As previously arranged, Karrde was the only one who greeted or spoke to the man. He introduced himself as Krayt, which Karrde immediately suspected was an alias, but honestly didn't care. When asked about his companions, Karrde said they were members of his crew and left it at that. After ordering a drink, which he kept close to him at all times, he got down to business.
"Alright," Krayt began, "why do you want to be doing business with us? You aren't exactly known for weapons smuggling; at least not since that messy business with Ysanne Isard and Thyferra some years back."
"True," Karrde replied, "but good business is where you find it. As it turns out, a colleague of mine who's very good at moving his wares, but very bad at negotiating for them, finally got tired of getting his legs cut out of under him. He wisely decided to hire me as a middleman, so he doesn't keep losing his shirt, as it were."
"That's all well and good," Krayt said, sitting back, "but what's in it for you?"
"You mean aside from my fee, obviously?" Karrde asked.
Krayt nodded but did not otherwise respond.
"Well," Karrde said cautiously, "our business can be a cutthroat one, but there are a few rules that are mostly followed. One of the most important being that it's better to work with your fellow smugglers than against them."
"True," Krayt replied.
"Also," Karrde said shrugging, "it's not going to do me any harm expanding my sphere of influence, now is it?"
"Just as long as you don't make any trouble," Krayt replied, "we won't have any problems. I trust your crew can behave themselves?"
"If they couldn't," Karrde said coldly, "they wouldn't be here."
"Fine," Krayt said, downing the rest of his drink. "A speeder will arrive in thirty minutes to pick you up. You and your crew will be scanned prior to getting on board."
"I'll be bringing my own astromech droid to help examine the merchandise," Karrde mentioned politely. "I trust that won't be a problem?"
"It will need to be scanned, as well," Krayt replied. "As long as nothing funny comes up, that should be fine."
"Then I believe we have a deal," Karrde said, holding out his hand. Krayt looked closely at the outstretched hand, apparently saw nothing wrong, and gave Karrde a quick, firm handshake.
"I'll see you in thirty minutes then," Krayt said, leaving. Karrde waited approximately five minutes longer, then gave the all clear signal.
"Okay," Jaina said, leaning forward again, "everyone knows their roles. Kyle, Seha, I trust you'll figure out how to smuggle your own lightsabers in."
"Not a problem for me," Seha replied. "I specifically constructed my lightsaber to be taken apart into completely innocuous pieces that even the most thorough scanners will likely miss."
"Same here," Kyle mentioned. "I also had a special shielded storage compartment added to Switch that can hold my lightsaber. Seemed to work just fine for Grand Master Skywalker, after all."
"In the event that we are obliged to split up," Jaina continued, "Javon will stay with Karrde, to maintain his cover of providing security. Similarly, Seha will stay with him, as well. Karrde not having both security and someone who can commandeer a shuttle with him are more likely than not to make our hosts suspicious."
"That works out just fine," Kyle said. "Javon's a trained security officer, so between him and Karrde's smuggler instincts, they should be fine. Also, it's a good idea to keep at least one Jedi in each group. That way, we can keep in contact in a manner they're not likely to anticipate or even be able to monitor."
Jaina agreed with Kyle's assessment, but was suddenly reminded of her earlier premonition about the diffuse nature of the danger she had felt.
"Unless and until we come under attack or direct threat," Jaina added, "let's keep communication through the Force to a minimum, and rely more on background impressions from each other. Like Karrde said to me a few days ago, there's no point in tipping our hand, potentially giving away our advantage, or both."
"You would have made an excellent smuggler, Jaina," Karrde said, raising his glass.
"Coming from you, Karrde," Jaina replied, raising her glass to his, "I'll take that as the compliment it was intended to be."
True to his word and surprisingly prompt, Krayt arrived with the promised speeder exactly thirty minutes after he left. Karrde had all of his supposed crew lined up and ready for inspection. Kyle, who was partnered with Switch, was introduced as Karrde's weapons tech. Krayt lined them all up, and scanned them one by one. Fortunately, none of their lightsabers or other items they were smuggling in were detected, thanks to Switch's shielded storage compartment.
Krayt had apparently been warned not to insist on blindfolds, giving Karrde's reputation. Likewise, Karrde didn't raise any issues when they were ushered into the speeder with all the windows blacked out. Both parties understood it was part of the cost of doing business, and accepted it as such. After approximately twenty minutes, the speeder slowed down and held its position. The speaker built into the roof of the speeder crackled a little before coming completely online.
"We should be allowed to continue in a few minutes," Krayt said over the speaker. "You all scanned perfectly fine. Right now, they're scanning the speeder."
"Which means," Karrde said quietly, "either Krayt isn't very highly placed or trusted in his organization, or they don't want us to know who or what they're scanning for now."
"Or," Javon said, leaning into the conversation, "it means that whoever runs the place, as well as their head of security, is hyper paranoid about anyone who comes in at any time."
"Either way," Jaina replied, "bad news for us. So, everyone needs to be on guard at all times."
Kyle reached into his pocket and palmed a keepsake he'd kept since his first mission. He'd felt oddly connected to it, even after all these years. His Master, Corran Horn, had often told him that seemingly insignificant feelings or intuitions would many times affect the present or even the future in surprising ways. Kyle had never felt any other kind of connection to any other trinket from his missions. He could only hope that the ultraviolet scanner he'd held onto for all these years would prove useful.
The speeder finally stopped for the second time, as the door opened. Krayt once again greeted them as they exited the craft. Another person also stood there, waiting. Kyle, despite the years, immediately recognized him. While he was still as overweight and now wore distinctly less impressive clothing, the nameless executive now had a noticeable look of malice about him, with a distinctive scar running down the right side of his face from just above his ear to right below his jaw.
The scar also looked eerily similar to his, like it had been caused by the same weapon. Kyle instantly went into a defensive mindset, reading the entire room as Master Horn had taught him. He remembered Jaina's warning not to use his Force abilities openly, but the skills learned from his former Master were adequate to the task. Nothing stood out as being overtly threatening, but Kyle kept his senses tight. Also, given that he was barely a teenager back then and had picked up the scar later, it seemed the former executive didn't recognize him.
"Thank you for the smooth ride," Karrde said. "It's nice to see that even in our business, manners are still respected."
"The Galactic Alliance may not be the Empire," Krayt replied, "although they still make life hard for us. But yes, there's no reason not to be civil with each other."
Krayt waved at the other man in the room, beckoning him to come closer. His expression went from angry to merely surly as he stopped leaning against the wall and made his way over. His eyes flicked from each one of their guests to the other in order. His eyes lingered a little longer on Kyle and Jag than they did the others. Jaina felt a small burst of concern from both of them, but no similar sense of concern or alertness flared to life from the overweight man's Force presence.
"This is Mort," Krayt said, introducing him. "Don't let his appearance fool you. He's one of the dirtiest and meanest fighters we have, so don't start anything with him unless you're looking for a stint in a bacta tank."
"I trust he knows how to behave himself," Karrde asked with an artificial lightness to his tone of voice.
"As long as you mind your manners," Krayt said with a smile, "so will he. Now then, would you like the tour first, or do you want to see the merchandise right now?"
"The sooner we see the merchandise, the better," Karrde replied, using his thumb to point to Kyle. "Can you believe he convinced me to pay him by the hour?"
"You told Dunkirk you wanted his best man to accompany you," Kyle said, projecting his best false bravado. "The best doesn't come cheap."
"I agreed to work on commission," Karrde said, forcing some faked irritation into his voice, "along with the possibility of a bonus if I get Dunkirk better terms than his last deal."
"Yeah, well you and Dunkirk have to worry about the big picture," Kyle replied with a mocking smile. "All I have to worry about is myself and my astromech, here."
During their discussions aboard the Wild Karrde, and later at the bar, Jaina and Karrde had agreed that the only way Krayt and any of his colleagues would trust Kyle being separated from Karrde was if there was a reason for it. Giving them some mutual animosity caused by money would be enough to fool the more base instincts of the smugglers and weapons dealers they were trying to infiltrate. Kyle had hesitated at the suggestion, but Karrde had backed her up. Even Jag's normally stone faced military discipline had admitted the tactic was worth exploring.
"Makes no difference to me," Krayt said, shrugging. "Which do you want to see first? The small arms, the blaster rifles, or the larger ordinance?"
"I have complete confidence in Lieutenant Thewles' ability to examine the infantry weapons," Karrde replied. "So, allowing Dunkirk's weapons tech to do his part quickly will also reduce any impact on my commission."
Krayt looked over at Mort, who shrugged in response.
"That should be fine," Krayt said hesitantly. "Of course, Mort will have to escort your weapons tech, as well as anyone else with him."
"You do know how to behave yourself as well," Karrde asked with a sarcastic smile, "right Jeice?"
Kyle winked at Karrde in what he hoped would look like an irritating manner. While giving his debrief to Karrde, Jag, and Jaina, he had mentioned his impressions of his first mission, particularly in relation to Switch and how they met. Jaina especially had taken an instant fondness to Switch and his circumstances. When Karrde had asked what alias Kyle should use, Jaina's eyes had lit up along with a smile on her face as she had suggested Jeice.
"As long as I'm getting paid," Kyle replied with a smug tone, "I'll be as docile as a well fed bantha."
"There you have it," Karrde said, gesturing at Krayt. "Now then, let's get down to business."
Jaina was surprised at how organized their operation was. While it was considered something of a stereotype that smugglers were often gruff or even idiotic compared to the more civilized portions of the galaxy, Jaina had learned to look past such self-blinding perceptions. Talon Karrde's organization, other than being in the morally gray area Jaina tended to avoid, was run as well as any corporation based out of Coruscant or Kuat or Fondor.
The similarities stopped there, though. Jaina, along with her former Master Mara, had occasionally visited Karrde at one of his many smugglers' bases. While the crew were sometimes weary of her presence, she had never felt threatened, either overtly or implicitly. Here, though, everyone she saw as they walked past seemed to be sizing her up as either a threat to avoid or piece of meat to be fed upon.
"Nice place you got here," Jaina said to their chaperone, Mort, who simply replied with a grunt. "Tell me, are you in any need of an experienced mechanic?"
"No," Mort replied curtly, just barely avoiding rude.
"I don't want to offend anyone," Jaina said gently, "but aren't you worried about performing maintenance?"
"No," Mort replied again, clearly getting irritated.
"Okay," Jaina said, feigning surrender, "sorry I asked."
Mort simply grunted again. Jaina, who was going by the alias Harla, along with Kyle and Jag, who was using the alias Lieutenant Roat, were being taken to examine the heavy ordinance such as concussion missiles and proton torpedoes. With all three being accomplished snubfighter pilots, they were all more than qualified to do a credible job of examining the items assigned to them. Having Switch along also provided verisimilitude to their aliases.
"So Jeice," Jaina asked, "how much is Karrde paying you for your services?"
"I highly doubt that's an appropriate question, Harla," Jag said, speaking up. "Seeing as how you're new to the crew, Captain Karrde might doubt your loyalty."
"Settle down, Lieutenant Fussy Pants," Jaina replied. "I'm just curious. I'm also trying to fill all this wonderful silence we've found ourselves in."
"I don't mind," Kyle replied. "But I'm pretty sure Karrde and Dunkirk would prefer to keep that information to themselves."
"Suit yourself," Jaina said, shrugging.
"We're here," Mort said, abruptly, as he held his hand up to a glass plate that glowed a scintillating blue before changing to green. "Go inside, and try not to take too long."
Kyle went in first, followed by Switch. Jag followed after him, with Jaina pulling up the rear. As she walked into the room, she gave Mort a little wink and tossed her shoulder length blonde hair in a flirty manner. She knew she had scored when she felt a surge of emotion from Mort, despite his stone faced demeanor. She watched as he moved across the hallway and leaned against the wall as the door closed.
"Not even married a year," Jag said mockingly, "and she's already flirting with other men."
"I thought you said you didn't like blondes," Jaina retorted.
"I'm finding myself re-evaluating my opinion," Jag replied with his usual military demeanor, although both Jaina and Kyle could feel his mirth sitting lightly below the surface.
"So Switch," Kyle said, "how does it feel to be back?"
Switch emitted a series of tones that somehow sounded both sad and excited.
"Yeah," Kyle replied, unconsciously rubbing his scar, "it was definitely one of the wildest rides I've ever been on, too."
"Now that you mention it," Jaina said, looking over her shoulder, "you never really did go into detail about how you got that scar."
"Well," Kyle replied, "seeing as how we have some time to waste until Mort out there starts letting his attention wander, why not? Who knows, we may even run into the same person who gave this to me, so any info I can provide might be helpful."
Chapter Eleven
Kyle settled back into the chair he had found, and let his mind wander back through his memories. Master Horn had often told him that focusing too much on the past could trap you just as firmly as the binders Whistler had carried. Kyle tried to always remember that, so when he explored his memories, he only focused on what he could learn from them. While he did not fear his memories of that day, he rarely liked recalling them unless necessary.
As soon as the hidden door to the security office opened, Kyle had his Force senses on high alert. He could still feel Master Horn moving around, leading the guards on an endless chase. Their blood lust had cooled somewhat, leaving behind a sense of professionalism with a hint of simmering anger mixed with respect. Although they still wanted him dead, it seemed like they were taking him more seriously, now.
"Whistler," Kyle said quietly, "can you tell how far away Master Horn is from us?"
Whistler turned to face Switch and issued a rapid series of beeps and trills between the two of them. He then turned to face his holocam at Kyle and issued a triumphal sounding noise.
"Excellent," Kyle replied. "Here's what I want you to do. Keep my comlink beeping like it has been previously, but every time I say 'distance to target', have it give one long tone for every ten meters, and then one short tone for every five meters. Anything under five meters, just round it up to five."
Whistler gave a quick acknowledgement sound, then started rapidly trilling as he began processing the command. After a few moments, he gave what Kyle guessed was a go-ahead command.
"Alright," Kyle said, taking a deep breath, "let's test it. Distance to target."
Kyle's comlink emitted five long tones, followed by one short tone, then went back to the previous homing signal pattern.
"Good," Kyle said, "let's go find Master Horn."
Collette paced back and forth in her office like a caged animal. It had been over an hour since the alert had started, and security had not had another sighting of the Jedi Master since he had first been shot at. She had decided not to severely punish the guard who had fired at him without warning, because in his place, she would not have given Corran Horn any chance, either. Losing a week's pay seemed better than losing a limb in her opinion.
What was more concerning was the Jedi Apprentice, Kyle Raeger. After he had managed to gain access to a restricted manufacturing area, his location was completely unknown. The guard who had authorized his access was currently scheduled for execution as soon as the current situation was resolved. Collette didn't care that he had just been doing his job. If he had been doing his job properly, he would have monitored Raeger from the moment he entered the room until he left it.
Collette took a few breaths to center herself. While it was true that Jedi used the technique to calm themselves, the Sith instead used it as a means to better focus and control their emotions. She took her anger and honed it into a blade ready to cut down anything and everything in her path. Her decision made, she took her naginata out of the hidden recess in her desk, then broke it down to better hide it among her garments. She could still quickly access the shortened form of her weapon and strike without warning when needed, then pulled a comlink out of her pocket and turned it on.
"It's me," Collette said into the microphone. "I'm coming out to oversee the search."
"Understood," the voice on the other end replied mechanically.
Collette exited her office, and made her way to her private turbolift. As far as Security could tell, neither Jedi had left the same floor they had been spotted on, so she selected the appropriate number on the turbolift controls. While waiting to arrive at the selected floor, Collette tried to reach out with the Force in an attempt to locate either of her quarry. She gave up a few moments later when she realized the area was saturated with fear and aggression.
While she could theoretically keep pressing on and find them, it would take more time and effort than she had. Instead, she had to rely on the security guards. Her Master would be extremely displeased if he ever found out. That meant that anyone who was aware of her failure had to be dealt with. Collette exited the turbolift to the sounds of alarms and sirens, as well as the heavy thuds of the boots of the security guards, as one stopped in front of her.
"Report," Collette said as the guard came to attention.
"We believe we have isolated the Jedi Master Corran Horn to the southwest quadrant of this floor," the guard replied mechanically. "Motion sensors have been set up in an expanding grid pattern at every intersection, and every third intersection also has a hidden thermal sensor in case the target discovers a way to circumvent the motion detectors."
"What about the Jedi Apprentice," Collette asked.
"Security Chief Willem assigned a low probability of him being a threat," the guard replied stiffly, with just a hint of fear. "After being granted access to manufacturing bay alpha five seven gamma, it was assumed that the lockdown would prevent his escape."
"I'll deal with Willem personally, later," Collette said with a restrained fury.
"Yes, Ma'am," the guard replied, then continued after an uncomfortable pause. "Shall I reassign a detail to look for him?"
"No," Collette replied after some deliberation, "I want every available body hunting the Jedi Master. He will eventually make a mistake, and the more pressure we put on him, the more opportunities we'll have to exploit it."
"Yes, Ma'am," the guard replied mechanically again.
"As for Apprentice Raeger," Collette said with a feral smile, "I'll take care of that myself."
Kyle moved from shadow to shadow, like how he had seen Master Horn do through the Force. After he cleared a hallway, he beckoned Whistler and Switch to follow him. At that point, Kyle had allowed the two droids to scan the intersections to avoid triggering any more alarms. In the ten minutes since they had left the security office, they had covered approximately ten meters while Master Horn had move approximately fifteen meters farther from them.
"Whistler," Kyle started to ask, "can you plot a general direction that Master Horn is moving in?"
Whistler trilled for a few seconds, then issued a soft negative sounding response.
"Then Master Horn must be moving at random," Kyle observed. "How long until we're likely to intercept him?"
Whistler trilled some more, but this time gave an uncertain response.
"Is the area he's moving around in expanding or contracting," Kyle asked.
This time, Whistler gave a definitively mournful response.
"Alright, it's time to play our trump card," Kyle said, while turning to look at Switch. "Switch, find the closest security console, and disable all the sensors using my new access levels. After you do it, scramble the logs. The longer we can hide our access, the more effective it will be."
Switch lead Kyle and Whistler back along the hallway, then pointed his holocam at a blank spot on the wall. Kyle pulled out the UV light emitter and pointed at it. He saw the same pattern of scratches, so he reached out and placed his hand against the wall. A now familiar scintillating blue light appeared, then the section of the wall slid upward, revealing a hidden console.
"Get connected, Switch," Kyle said, holding back both excitement and terror from his voice. "Let me know when you're ready."
Switch acknowledged with a short trill, then went to work. Kyle kept his Force senses at their peak, in case anyone stumbled upon them. He once again watched at text flew by on the monitor at insanely fast speed. After about thirty seconds that only felt like five minutes, Switch emitted a triumphal sound, while a cursor blinked steadily at a command prompt.
"Disable all the sensors first," Kyle said, "then let me know when you're done."
Switch acknowledged the order, then went to his task. A few moments later, Switch issued a confused sounding tone, then swivelled his holocam around to face Kyle.
"What's wrong," Kyle asked, as text appeared on the monitor and he bent down to read it. "I've disabled all the regular sensors, including the thermal ones, but the security guards have set up remote motion detectors."
Kyle looked back at Switch as the pieces began to fall in place. Master Horn moving around at random. His area of movement getting smaller. His continually monitored sense of the guards' emotions changing from them hunting prey to getting ready to face a trapped animal. If he didn't do something soon, Master Horn would be captured or killed.
Kyle reached out to steady himself against the wall as panic tried to consume him. He could feel the fear and anger starting to build in him, as the desire to reach out with the Force and kill everyone who threatened him and Master Horn nearly became overwhelming. Everything he saw took on a reddish orange haze, like looking through a filter. At the moment that Kyle almost gave in, a gentle pulsing sensation slowly poured out of his lightsaber crystal. Kyle suddenly saw a older bearded man appear in front of him, with a slight blue halo surrounding him.
He put his hands on Kyle's shoulders, and all his panic, fear, and anger evaporated, while his eyesight returned to normal. The man stared into his eyes. Kyle was amazed at what he saw. While there was some sadness there, the depth of the compassion washed away his every concern, like he was floating in a warm bath. Instead of water, though, it was filled with joy and peace and love. Kyle stood back up from where he had nearly fallen, and looked again at the figure before him.
'Go in peace, young Jedi,' Kyle heard in his mind. 'I will be with you whenever you need me.'
The bearded man disappeared, leaving Kyle stunned but exhilarated. Kyle looked at Whistler and Switch, but neither one seemed to have noticed what had happened. He then looked at the monitor on the security console, and saw that less than a minute had passed. He wondered if what he saw had even happened, but for now, he needed to focus on the task at hand.
"Switch," Kyle began asking, "you said that security set up remote sensors. Can we disable them from here?"
Switch emitted a negative response, as more text appeared on the screen.
"Not directly, no," Kyle read, "the motion sensors are using a cyclical comlink frequency to communicate with each other and with the security guards. The only way to stop them would be to blanket all the comlink frequencies in the area with static to jam them."
Kyle stepped back, then turned to look at Switch again.
"But if we do that," Kyle said, "wouldn't that also knock out our comlinks, as well?"
Switch replied with a mournful tone, then turned his holocam back towards the security console.
"Alright, get ready to start broadcasting that static," Kyle said as he pulled his comlink off his collar and set it for time delay sending. "Master Horn, approximately one minute after you get this message, all the comlinks in the area are going to receive nothing but static, including the comm frequencies used by the motion detectors the guards have set up. We will have to rely on the Force to communicate and locate each other. Once you hear this message, please reach out to me through the Force to acknowledge."
Kyle dropped his arm to his side, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him again. He counted the seconds in his head, trying to estimate how long it would take the message to be sent and for Master Horn to receive it. He was about to raise his comlink back up and send the message again, when he felt a strong and decidedly amused impression through the Force from Master Horn. Kyle smiled, then turned back to look at Switch and Whistler.
"Do it," Kyle said, smiling, as his comlink started broadcasting a garbled static noise. "Now, as Master Horn said, let's go do what Jedi do best."
Whistler and Switch emitted hooting sounds that could only have been interpreted as laughter as they followed behind Kyle, who ran in the general direction that Master Horn's contact through the Force had come from.
Immediately after Collette had left the security guard behind, she had opened herself up fully to the Dark Side of the Force. The aggression of the guards refreshed her as thoroughly as a man drinking from a cold glass of water after a long day. She also savored the delicate flavors of fear permeating the air, coming from all the workers around her. Some feared her as the capricious boss who could terminate their employment at a whim.
A scant few, though, knew who she really was. One or two of those became terrified beyond reason at her mere presence. She often kept special tabs on them, showing up unexpectedly from time to time when she needed to nourish herself on the Dark Side of the Force. They were among her most valuable tools, and while they were not irreplaceable, it would be inconvenient for her if any of them died unexpectedly.
Collette then felt a ripple of confusion pour through the Force, followed by a sudden sense of fear, nearly bordering on panic. Normally she would take the time to savor it, but after a few seconds she realized it was coming from the security guards. Something had spooked them, and there was only one likely cause. The Jedi Master, Corran Horn, had escaped them, and they feared her retribution.
"Report," Collette said, raising her comlink.
Instead of being connected to the lead security guard for this floor, Collette heard only static. She switched frequencies, and tried again and again. After the fifth attempt, she gave up, and instead found the nearest guard in the Force. She hurried to his position, and saw a look of pure panic on his face.
"Report, Marwan," Collette said, reading his name off the plate attached to his vest.
"I've lost contact with everyone," the panicked guard said, obviously nearing total breakdown. "Could the Jedi Master have taken out everyone else?"
Collette suppressed her desire to lash out at the guard. Normally, she would bask in his fear like a sun bather at the beach. But now, it was only interfering with her and her objective. Instead, she again focused her anger, and assigned him a task suited to his lack of imagination.
"No," Collette said in the calmest voice she could maintain. "Obviously, someone found a way to interfere with our comlinks. Head to the nearest security office and find out what's going on. If you can shut down whatever's causing the interference, do it. Don't wait to hear back from me."
The guard saluted, then made his escape as quickly as his cowardice and her anger would allow. Collette turned to go the other direction, when she felt a distinct pulse in the Force. It was like someone had shot off a flare in the middle of a dark forest at night. She also felt an echo, a less pronounced presence responding back.
Clearly, the Jedi Master and his apprentice were reaching out to each other in the Force, believing that in all the chaos it would go unnoticed or undetected. Collette's feral smile returned, as she plotted out their locations in the Force. The smaller presence, the young apprentice, was much closer. She immediately changed direction and stopped just short of a flat out run. Her one chance to redeem herself in the eyes of her Master was only a short distance away.
Kyle smiled as he sensed the guards descend into utter confusion and chaos. While it would be giving in to the Dark Side to start actively hunting the guards directly, using the opening to discreetly avoid them and any conflict allowed him to stay in the Light Side, while also enjoying the fruits of his labor. The pulse he had felt from Master Horn put him within contact distance, and he nearly reached out to him in the Force again. He would have done so, if not for a sudden premonition through the Force.
He had the impression that something nearly feral in its anger was trying to latch onto him. Its need to find him was a hunger bordering on ravenous. Kyle immediately closed down his presence in the Force to everything but passive use. He could still sense the guards due to their inability to hide their Force presence, but everything else became more muted. The feral hunger paused in its pursuit, then continued in a random direction. Unfortunately for him, it seemed that whatever it was had found him and would be on him shortly.
Kyle was about to turn a corner when he spotted Collette running the opposite direction. Her sense in the Force had changed completely from when they had first met. Instead of seeming calm and collected, she now projected fear and confusion, nearing unthinking panic. Kyle attempted to peer further, but the omnipresent fear around him made it feel like he was trying to gaze through a deep fog.
Kyle hesitated between the need to find his Master, and the Jedi's mission of protecting those in distress. Abandoning someone else in need was the very essence of the Dark Side, he admitted to himself. Whether he liked it or not, ignoring Collette would be selfish and self-serving, two direct paths to the Dark Side. His decision made, Kyle turned after her.
