Chapter Four: Tests of Faith
"In loving our hearts glow
With desire's flame.
In desiring we aim like arrows
For greatness in our beloved's eye.
In striving we battle the world
To make it all anew.
Yet in battling we burn it
'Til desire's flame leaves only ash,
Never thinking our beloved
Comes only from this world.
Thus we kill the ones we love;
Our straight line becomes a circle."
Lyechusas
Erakas woke one morning with terrible certainty that his Master was dead. He emerged from something that was less and more than a dream; less vivid and sensual, but more coherent and deeply felt. In the moments before he jerked upright in his bed he felt confusion, pain and primal fear, and he knew he was sharing the emotions Sohr broadcast across the stars.
With mounting terror he knew his Master was doomed. He yearned to help, knew he could not, and the worst part was that his own despair paled in compared to Sohr's. The ancient Kwa had always been wise and gentle, an embodiment of ancient wisdom and the power of the Force. But in his final moments those did not avail him. Nothing could save him, and his dying thought had been a helpless wail: How could I have been so wrong?
Reina insisted it was only a nightmare. She held him when he shuddered in bed, made him tea later, talked to him, and asked gentle questions even when she should have been off doing station-master things. He insisted this was no dream, this was fact, as undeniable as the Force itself. She nodded and said she understood, but he could see the doubt in her eyes. She loved him and trusted him but she didn't believe him. There was no way she could understand without the Force. He didn't blame her, but the gap between them made grief all the worse.
He tried to control himself, for Sohren's sake. He still didn't know how attuned the boy was to his father's emotions. Sohren seemed more cautious in his father's presence, but he asked whether they would do any more training that day. Erakas declined, suggesting tomorrow.
He didn't know if he'd ever feel ready to teach again.
He craved the details of Sohr's death, painful as they might be. He needed to understand what, in his final moments, had driven the venerable Jedi to despair. What had been his mistake? What foe had felled him?
How had the Force failed?
That was the worst question of all. If the Force had failed the teacher, it was only a matter of time before it failed the student.
His cabin felt suffocating. Erakas needed to be alone. When Reina went to work he was left with Sohren, but his son's large, expectant eyes made him feel even more desperate. He needed to be alone somewhere, so he called Eirim, the Estarian teen Reina had started hiring to watch over the boy. Leaving Sohren in her care, Erakas went wandering the halls of Santossa Station.
Reina and Malanthazaar had shipped many Yutuski refugees down to the planet, but the corridors were still crammed with the displaced. As he walked among them Erakas felt lost in a morass of quiet despair, too like his own. The fact that he could do nothing for them or himself made it worse. Luckily he'd been living here long enough to know the back corridors, the unused passages.
He made his way to a maintenance corridor that wound along the exterior of the docking zone. From here there were portholes through which he could view the stars. His portion of the station's ring was currently turned away from Santossa's face, which itself was eclipsed by night, so there was not even reflected daylight glow to dampen the stars.
And the stars were infinite. He wondered if Master Sohr had died near any of those stars. Even if he had, this light was far more ancient. Some of those rays had spent tens of thousand of years crossing the galaxy to meet his eyes. Some of the stars he saw must have died already, burst to novae or collapsed to white dwarfs. And if new stars had coalesced from stardust their light was too young, and in their space he saw only black. Either way, he was only looking at dead things.
The more he stared the more he felt consumed by the darkness between stars. Master Talyak had been so afraid of that void, more afraid than the dark side of the Force. In the vastness of the galaxy there was so little life and light; nearly all of it was void. Talyak had striven to find specks of meaning to defy the black. Had he succeeded? Had he, too, died a miserable death? Had the Force abandoned him to the great nothing?
Erakas loathed the stars and black, but he couldn't look away. In their cold cruelty he saw the truth of the universe.
-{}-
A mottled sphere floated against space: green-blue oceans, continents of dusty brown, cool gray-white, patches of jungle, all of them tinted a faint rust-red by the light of a dead and distant star.
Kintan.
After a lifetime he was back. Yet he looked upon his homeworld, Vaatus felt nothing. He had no idea what feeling was appropriate for a moment like this. Hope, perhaps, but the Kintan he'd fled as a child had been the most hopeless place in the universe. The bloodthirsty priests of M'dweshuu had been destroyed and replaced by a new, better, kinder religion, or so he'd been told. But when he looked on that world's homely face, he could only think of the misery they're wrought. Even Xim's vicious conquests could not compare to their gratuitous, sadistic evil.
They were gone, but could Kintan ever be free from their stain?
He'd come here to find out. That, and one other reason, one he didn't dare say even in the privacy of his own mind. To say it, to name it, would be to invite hope, and there'd never been hope on Kintan as he'd known it.
"We're getting a hail," Kroller said.
His voice was gentle but Vaatus trembled in his crash webbing. He quickly composed himself and said, "Where's it coming from? The hyperspace beacon?"
"That's right. Looks like it's been set up with a local comm array some docking ports… Looks like they're building it into a transit station.
"What are they saying?"
"I was hoping you could tell me. I'll put it on your screen now."
Vaatus fixed his attention on his console, not knowing what to expect. Kintan was a diverse planet with many different continents and climates, the Nikto a fractured species with five major races and dozens of languages. Eight different nations had competed for territory before the priests of M'dweshuu subjugated them all. The Niktos he'd met at Gwynhes Minor said the planet was still unified under the new regime, whatever that was.
The text that appeared before him came in two fat paragraphs, each in a different language and script. The top was totally unfamiliar but he recognized the lower as M'shento'ku, the tongue spoken on Kintan's southern continent. It had little in common with the Kadas'ku he'd grown up speaking, but the M'shento were proliferate traders and often visited his coastal village of Menata. It was a struggle to summon memory of a language he'd half-known as a child, but he was able to recognize key words and piece together meaning.
"Well, what's it say?" his father pressed.
"It's… a welcome message." Vaatus couldn't contain his surprise. The M'dweshuu priests had fiercely resisted outsiders. He'd only managed to escape on a smuggler's ship.
"That explains why nobody's shooting at us," Kroller drawled. "Are there instructions? Are they telling us to go to the station?"
"No… Not explicitly. They're requesting we provide them with our destination."
"Do you want to dock at the station and check it out before we try groundside?"
It was the logical thing to do. The station was probably designed for foreign travelers and that was what they were, despite his weird feeling of homecoming.
But he didn't want to go to that station, that new and foreign construct. It would contain nothing of the home he'd left behind, the one that was calling to him now. He twisted in his seat to look out the porthole once more, and to his disappoint-ment saw Kintan had slipped from view.
Kroller noticed. "Scans show at least three groundside docking facilities. Maybe more on the other side the planet. I'll send you the info. Tell me where you want to go, son, and I'll get us there."
Vaatus forced attention on his screen again. When he'd left Kintan had possessed one official starport near populous K'nala, locked down and mostly-derelict thanks to the priests. He'd escaped Menata first by boat to the Gluss'elta islands, where smugglers hid their single docking tower. The K'nala port was still there, and new ones had been built on the southern continent and at the Gluss'elta archipelago; perhaps on the same site he'd burst free from years ago.
How had these ports been built so quickly? With whose resources? The Nikto had never developed starships of their own, even before the priests drove them back to primitivism.
He was pretty sure what whoever built those ports had also driven the priests away. He was curious, and wary, of these liberators.
"What'll it be?" Kroller asked patiently.
Docking at K'nala would give them access to Kintan's biggest metropolis. Surely answers would be found there; perhaps the liberators themselves. But he'd never been to K'nala. It would do little to raise the memories now restless inside him.
Gluss'elta, however, would be different. If he returned to the same island he'd departed from, he might be able to grab a boat, to ride it over the seas back to Menata. He might set foot on the rocky shore of his village, and then…
He shouldn't hope. He couldn't help himself. He'd come so far and couldn't stop now. Whatever had become of Katorr, he had to find out.
"The archipelago," he said. "We should dock there."
"I'll set course now," Kroller replied. "You want to let flight control know our heading?"
"Yes. I'll do that right away."
He did it, but it was hard. Hard to summon the right phrases of barely-remembered M'shento'ku. Hard to concentrate when the Gravity Scorned accelerated and jostled him in his seat. Hardest of all to keep his hands from nervous trembling.
-{}-
Kurooine, its surrounding space and surface both, were contested. The Imperial feint at Xeldraf had been repulsed, as had the Eneska attack, with heavy losses. The resupply station at the Torento binaries was under siege and, Indrexu feared, would not last long.
But the most astonishing thing was completely unexpected. She'd read the battle report from Kurooine, beamed directly to her Stormrider as it skirted the system's edge at a careful distance. She'd reread it, considered, made no sense of it. So, finally, she'd ordered that astonishing thing brought to her presence.
It took half a day to extract from Kurooine's surface, slip past the Imperial warships, and reach the Stormrider. Captains Miral and Venta both insisted that the arrival be placed under guard, because there was no telling what she was capable of. The reports from the Kurooine skirmish made it sound like she could do pretty much anything. Indrexu couldn't rule out that this was a trick, maybe even an elaborate assassination attempt, though underhanded murder had never been Xim's style.
Indrexu's personal meeting room was spacious by the Stormrider's standards, but it felt immediately cramped when the newcomers arrived. The queen stood against the bulkhead opposite the door with Captain Venta at her side; both wore ceramic blue battle-armor and Venta had her helmet donned and sword drawn, whatever good that would do. When the door opened two guards, each cradling a repeater rifle, stepped through. Between them, standing a little shorter than the tall Ranroon women, was the alien miracle-worker, still dressed in the dirtied armor of a Federation infantry grunt.
Indrexu eyed her carefully. The woman's skin was a striking scarlet, her tangled hair black. Tiny growths, like horns, jutted from the hairless ridges over her eyes and framed her chin. She met Indrexu's stare dispassionately. Hands remained at her sides, right wrist brushing the cylindrical beam-weapon described in the report.
Indrexu had never seen an alien of that race, near-human but clearly not. Apart from her foreignness there was little about her that stood out.
The queen crossed arms over her chest and said, "They tell me you destroyed an entire armored column by yourself." She spoke slowly, for she knew her Ranroon accent was difficult for many humans to understand, let alone aliens.
"I was helped by your soldiers," the woman replied. Her Tionese had its own accent, unfamiliar.
"You seem to know who I am, then. What is your name?"
"I am Essan."
"Only Essan? I am Hylei Indrexu Cortess, Twenty-first Queen of Ranroon."
"I have no title or family. I come from no noble line."
"What are you, then? They say you volunteered for service at Santossa Station."
"I am a traveler, though I've been in the Tion cluster for six years. I came from much further away."
"How much further?"
"The center of the galaxy."
Venta scoffed quietly. Indrexu asked, "How did you reach known space? Can you navigate hyperspace without relying on our beacon network?"
"I had a ship that could do that. I've lost that ship."
"So you're marooned in our region?"
"You can think of it like that."
"I can?" Indrexu crooked a brow. "Where you come from, do others wield weapons like you do? Can they command the powers my soldiers say you can?"
"Yes," said Essan, "but they're far away now and I can't reach them."
"So you've come to me by yourself? Because that was the purpose of your show on Kurooine, wasn't it, to get my attention?"
"Yes," she nodded, "and to help your troops."
"Why should an alien interloper from across the galaxy care about my troops?"
That seemed to take Essan off-guard. The red woman considered. "They are fighting a worthy cause. They deserve assistance."
"Is that what you've done? Criss-cross the galaxy and fighter in other peoples' wars?"
"Not. This is the first time."
Indrexu was slightly disappointed. "Is that the only reason, then?"
"Yes," Essan said, then hesitated. "I have also had… encounters with the Empire. Six years ago I encountered a generation ship passing by Endregaad. I was captured and held at a facility on Abraxin before I could escape."
Indrexu would use all her intelligence assets to verify that. Of course, if Essan were Xim's agent her story would check out anyway. "Did your… abilities interest Xim?"
"I believe they did. I did not encounter the emperor, only his agents."
"And how did you escape?"
"I had… friends."
"Alien friends? Or friends from Tion?"
"Both." Essan lifted her chin. "But I came to you on my own."
She was still cagey, but that was no surprise for an alien from far away. Indrexu uncrossed her arms and gave Venta a tiny hand signal: be ready to act. To Essan she said, "I want a demonstration of your abilities. I want to see them with my own eyes."
"What kind of demonstration?"
"Any kind you like. But if you harm any of my people—"
"I won't," said Essan.
Very slowly she unhooked the metal cylinder from her belt. She held it flat on her open palm, stretched it out to Indrexu like an offering. Before the queen could touch it, the cylinder levitated. Essan lowered her hand but it hung in the air between them. Then it rotated to stand vertically, and a meter-long blade of light extended toward the ceiling.
Essan looked at Indrexu and crooked one horned brow.
Indrexu walked slowly toward the beam. She waved hands along its flank, touched the smooth metal surface, shifted her grip toward the light. The cylinder really was hanging in space, untouched. When her palm moved close to the light she felt its intense heat.
"Don't touch it," Essan warned.
Indrexu lowered her hand. "How does it work?"
"An energy beam, focused by crystal." After a second she added, "I didn't build it. It was… a gift I received on my travels."
"Then you can't make more? Pity. And what about your… abilities? Can your species do telekinesis?"
"My people can do that and more."
People. Indrexu made note of that. "How? A natural ability?"
"Yes."
"Can you teach it to others?"
"Only if they are born with it. And I've met none here—humans or not—who were."
"What other paranormal powers do you have?"
"We don't think of them as paranormal. But I can see how you might."
"Are these talents native to your kind, like breathing and eating for us mortals?"
"They're skills that require much practice and effort. And I'm as mortal as you."
"So if I order Captain Venta to run you through with her sword, you'd die like any human?"
The two women locked eyes across the still-burning blade. No one moved, even breathed.
Essan said, "I would defend myself, because I can die so easily."
"Defend yourself with that blade? With your fists? Or with your mind?"
"Whatever is necessary."
They stared for one more hard moment; then Indrexu quirked a smile. "It's a good thing I won't give that order. Not yet, anyway. You understand why I can't trust you."
"That's your right," Essan said. "In your position, I wouldn't either."
Her lightsaber shuddered off and drifted through the air until it rested in her scarlet hand. The guards tensed, but Indrexu let her hook the weapon back to her belt.
"You never answered my question," the queen pointed out. "What are your other powers?"
"They're difficult to quantify."
"You can do telekinesis. What about telepathy? Mind control? Mystic visions?"
Essan only blinked. "I've known people who can do all of those things, or some of them. Talents differ between us."
She said outrageous things so plainly. Indrexu re-crossed her arms. "Can you tell what's going through my mind now?"
"Curiosity, mixed with incredulity," said Essan. "But I don't need the Force to tell me that."
"The Force? That's your wellspring? All right, we'll see what your 'Force' can do. I'm going to hold an image of something in my mind. Tell me what it is."
Still holding Essan's eyes, Indrexu peered past the woman and conjured a scene from memory. A dark gray sky, a deep blue sea, and resting between them: an old sailing ship made from tarred-together wood planks, with a high mast rising from its flat topside, sails lowered to catch wind. It was the kind her ancestors had used to traverse Ranroon's seas before space travel dropped into their isolated world.
She stared through Essan, but Essan closed her eyes. The red woman's brow creased faintly. If she was probing Indrexu's thoughts, the queen didn't feel a thing.
When Essan opened her eyes she said with confidence, "An ancient sea vessel, with sails raised."
This impressed her even more than the blazing sword moved without hands. This red woman had stared into her very soul. Indrexu was amazed—and wary.
"Tell me," said the queen, "what do you think you can achieve in joining me? Do you believe you, one mortal woman, can turn the tide against Xim just because you have a few tricks?"
She'd thought this, too, might take Essan back, but the alien said, "These powers aren't mine. They're part of the universe itself. I only draw on the Force…. as it draws on me. I don't know if it's enough to turn back Xim. I've come here to find out."
Was she a religious type, then? Ranroon had its own mythologies, more poetry than creed, but things might look different for Essan, if she really drew on an etheral power.
"We will test your faith later," Indrexu said. "My guards will prepare a place for you while I consider the next step."
"Thank you," Essan gave a shallow, crisp bow. It was the first sign of deference she'd shown.
The guards escorted her from the chamber. The Stormrider had no room for private guests; she'd be staying in the brig, unrestrained but under guard. Her reaction to that might be telling.
Once the door slid shut, Captain Venta finally took her hand off her sword. "There's no telling if her powers are real."
"They're real," Indrexu exhaled. "What they actually are is another question."
"And what she is." Venta's brows furrowed. "She says she comes from the center of the galaxy… but I recall stories of hyperspace pioneers finding red-skinned humanoids some-where past the edge of known space."
In its time Ranroon had sent out many explorers who'd come back with stories of varied authenticity. "See if you can find anything to back that up. In the meantime, we need to test her further." She added, "If she was sent to assassinate me she could have done so already."
"She could still be a spy." Though they were alone, Venta lowered her voice. "She could be after the Object."
"I'm aware… and I might show it to her."
The captain blanched. "Majesty, if Xim learns about the Object—"
"It will still do him no good, unless he knows where it is. She doesn't have to know either… but her powers might be useful there."
"Why do you think that?"
"The Object came from the Tyrants. And they say the Tyrants had powers like that…. moving objects with their minds, touching the minds of others."
"Myths."
"Until today I'd have agreed with you. Perhaps we'll find out, one way or the other. But first, a test."
"You have something in mind?"
Indrexu took a deep breath and wondered what strange path she'd started down. "Let's get to the command deck. I want to see how the battle for Kurooine is progressing…"
-{}-
Home was a rise of white buildings between the blue of the sea and the green of mountainous jungle. The forests of Kadas'kor were dense with vegetation and predatory animals that gave even fierce Nikto hunters pause. For that reason most of Vaatus's race, the Kadas'sa'Nikto, lived on safer coastlines.
Vaatus's last sight of home, seen nearly twenty years ago from an outbound boat, had been of that white line pressed between green and blue. It had struck his young self as fragile, small and endangered. He'd expected jungle monsters or evil priests to devour it once he was gone.
But Menata remained. More than that, it appeared to be flourishing. Vaatus could barely recognize it as he stood on the prow of the boat that had taken him from the landing zone across the sea. The boat was packed with people: mostly green Kadas'sa, some pale Gluss'sa islanders, red-faced Kajin'sa and even M'shento'sa from the south. And one sole human: his father, who looked admirably composed surrounded by strangers chattering in unintelligible tongues.
People from all over the planet were coming to Menata. He couldn't believe it. As the boat came to dock he stared in awe at the white, glassy towers rising from the shoreline. Some of the old white stucco houses remained but Menata was expanding, both skyward and into the mountains. As they neared the harbor he saw a flatbed boat laden with lumber from felled trees.
When the boat jostled into its berth and began disgorging passengers, Vaatus remained on the deck, hands gripping the railing tight, trying to spot familiar buildings amidst all this new growth. The cape to the north and jutting hill to the south seemed the only things unchanged.
Once the crowd thinned Kroller came up beside him, rested hands on railing, and said, "I'm guessing a lot has changed."
"It's unbelievable," Vaatus shook his head. "The spaceport, the buildings here… Where is all this coming from?"
"Not Kintan, I'm guessing."
"No. But it's not Xim, is it? He hasn't gotten this far yet."
"I'm sure he's sent scouts, but if the Empire was dumping resources on this place I'm sure we'd have heard of it."
"Then who?"
"I don't know. I guess we'll have to ask around." He looked at Vaatus. "Got anybody you're planning to look up?"
Vaatus inhaled deeply. "There… might be people here I still know."
"Such as?"
He'd told his father and Reina much about his experiences on Kintan, but not everything. Staring at the water as it dashed against the hull he said, "My parents were… killed, but some of their friends may still be alive."
"Any other family?"
"I… I had an older brother." It felt so strange, saying it, like he was breaking a taboo.
"Had or have?"
"I don't know."
"Okay," Kroller said, then, "Guess we'd better start asking around."
"We?"
"You never know. Somebody here might speak Tionese. Hell, somebody might even want to hire us." He gave a defiant grin. "Try a little optimism, son. Sometimes it even works."
Vaatus tried. The dazzling skyline and busy streets urged his spirits upward, and he prayed harder than ever that Katorr was still alive; not just alive but thriving in this new Menata. He and Kroller wandered for half an hour before he could finally get his bearings and find remembered streets. The neighbor-hood in which he'd grown had changed relatively little: white houses were pressed close together into lanes so narrow they had to walk single-file.
He remembered the maze of those lanes, where to hook left or twist right. He remembered all the steps that would take him to the home in which he'd grown up. He'd thought he'd purged all those memories twenty years ago but they, like his past, had lain dormant, waiting for the moment to surface again.
He was just a few buildings away from his family home when someone called his name.
It was a female's voice, creaking, elderly. He and Kroller turned to see a hunched woman emerge from a side lane. The scales of her green face were turning dry and rusty with age, but he recognized her for her gold-rimmed eyes.
"Banoka, is that you?" He stepped closer.
"You are Vaatus, aren't you?" His mother's friend shambled close. She reached up and touched his face. "You've grown so much… but the way you walk is the same. Those long fast steps… We all thought you we dead."
"I ran away. I left Kintan. I came back now because I heard the M'dweshuu priests were gone, but I never expected to see everything else had changed."
"Oh, it all happened so fast!" She looked at the towers in fresh disbelief. "Just a few years ago, there was nothing there. Look at it now! Praise Churabba, I never thought I'd see Menata like this."
"Who is Churabba?"
"Why, the Liberator! She is the one who destroyed the priests, bless her name."
Vaatus wanted to ask her so many questions, starting with what this Churabba was, how she'd driven away the priests, and what all this new construction meant. But he got nothing out, because Banoka asked him, "Have you seen Katorr yet?"
His chest grew tight. "No. I was trying to find him. Is he… is he at home?" He waved down the remembered path.
"Oh no, you won't find your brother there anymore."
"Then where can I find him?"
The old woman lifted her head thoughtfully toward the towers, then raised one hand and gestured. "That one, I think. Or the one beside it. I can't remember."
Katorr was alive. Katorr was flourishing. Vaatus wanted to leap into the air and cry for joy. But he composed himself, thanked Banoka, and hurried in the direction of the towers. As they walked he explained it to Kroller, who'd gamely watched their conversation without understanding a word.
Stepping through the doors at the base of the tower was Vaatus's final proof that Kintan had changed. Instead of the traditional white-walled garden courtyard common to Kada'sa homes, the foyer was cold, all sleek metal and high glass windows. The guards standing in the center were not Nikto of any race; they were of a species Vaatus had never seen before, with leathery brown skin and black hair pulled into queues. They were tall and powerfully built, and two immediately approached the newcomers.
"State your business," one said in thickly-accented Kadas'ku.
Vaatus wasn't sure if that heavy-browed glower was meant to be threatening or if it was natural for the species. He fought the urge to shrink and said, "I've come to see Katorr."
"Katorr receives no visitors."
"He'll receive me. Tell him Vaatus has come for him. Vaatus."
The guard glowered even deeper, then said something unintelligible to his partner. The second guard relayed the command to a third, who then spoke into a communicator badge. After an eternal-seeming minute a reply came.
"Katorr will come to you," the guard said, then stepped back, almost respectful.
Sensing something had happened, Kroller stepped beside his son. "What's going on?"
"He said Katorr's coming down."
The human smiled. "He's here? That's great, isn't it?"
Smiling did not come naturally to Nikto, and Vaatus was in no mood to try. He was about to see his brother after twenty years: a reunion he'd not dared imagine because he'd never thought it possible. But it was happening now and it filled him with apprehension.
Would Katorr welcome him? Would he curse his younger brother for running like a coward, leaving him alone to face the priests of M'dweshuu who'd already murdered their sister? He'd be right to. Nikto valued family and Vaatus had abandoned his, because he hadn't been strong enough.
He heard the whirr of a lift tube dropping to the lobby and braced himself for judgment. He stepped ahead of his father and made a small gesture for Kroller to stay back. This was a confrontation he'd have to handle alone.
The lift came to a gentle halt. Two metal doors spread open. A single figure stepped out of a capsule: one tall green Nikto dressed in a handsome black-and-white suit. After twenty years the face was a stranger's but again, the eyes told all. It was Katorr, looking stronger and more prosperous than Vaatus could have dreamed.
And in those eyes there was no scorn or judgment, only joy.
Vaatus froze, uncertain. Kroller and the alien guards stood to the side, watching. Katorr looked his brother up and down, then gathered him into a suffocating embrace.
"You're alive! Alive!" Katorr marveled. "I don't believe it! How is this possible? Where have you been? No, please—" He pulled a step back, hands on Vaatus's shoulders, looking at him again. "It really is you. Oh, brother, you've changed so much."
When Vaatus opened his mouth he bleated a human-like giddy laugh that took his brother by surprise. Then he touched Katorr's forearms in the Kadas'sa gesture of trust. "So have you. So has everything. What's happened to Kintan?"
"I wouldn't know where to start. What's happened to you?"
"I wouldn't know where to start either…. No, that's not true." He gestured with one hand to Kroller. "This is my adopted father."
"Father?" Katorr looked at Kroller for the first time. "Is he a… human?"
"Yes! You know humans?"
"Know of them. I've heard they have a great empire."
"He's not part of the empire. We're spacers, traveling the stars. I've been to more planets than I can count."
"I envy you. I've always wondered what it would be like to leave Kintan."
"But look at you!" Vaatus tugged the hem of his brother's suit. "You've done well for yourself, clearly."
"It was good fortune more than anything."
"You deserve all the good luck possible after what we went through growing up."
Vaatus had a thousand more questions but they both paused to remember the long trail of grief that had preceded this happy moment.
Kroller took that opening to step up. He offered an open hand to Katorr and said in Tionese, "It's an honor and a pleasure. Vaatus has been as good to me as any man could hope for."
Vaatus was embarrassed by the praise. He translated, "He gives you greetings. Grasp his palm. It's a human greeting."
Katorr looked thoughtfully at that pink appendage before taking it with his green one. Then he said, "Come, both of you. We'll keep talking—" He tipped his chin and eyes to the ceiling, "In my office."
Katorr's office wasn't at the top of the tower, but it was high enough to give a glittering view of the sun-stroked coastline. As he looked out on Menata's shore, from a vantage he'd never dreamed of, Vaatus asked his brother, "What exactly do you do here? Are you… a mayor?"
"Nothing like that," Katorr shook his head. "I have a business. Well, businesses. The boats pulling in and taking out cargo, the construction, the deforestation and expansion projects… I have parts in all of them. It keeps me very busy. To survive under the priests I had to be resourceful. I met many people, made many connections, and they've finally paid off."
Vaatus glanced at Kroller, who understood nothing. "So you work for this… Liberator?"
"I don't work for anyone… but what I have—what all Kintan has—would never have been possible under the priests."
"I'm sure. But… what is the Liberator? I saw old Bokana, she called it 'Churabba' and said it was a goddess."
Katorr exhaled. His giddy happiness seemed to leave with his breath. "It's a complicated situation."
"They're offworlders, I can tell that much. Those alien guards, were they Liberators?"
"No. They are called Weequay and they're from a planet called Sriluur. They work for the Liberator."
"How many of those Weequay are on Kintan now?"
"Who can say? There are other species here. Klatooinans, some are called, and Vodrans. And there are the Cyborreans, who are very good with technology. They've been building the space station in orbit. The Vodrans have been putting up these buildings. Nothing would be possible without their help." He tilted his head and added, "We Nikto were never advanced enough to reach the stars on our own."
"And all of them work for Churabba?"
"They are her… followers, best I understand it. I've never really understood what these offworlders do."
But he understood some of it, more than he was telling. Despite all that had gone between them, Vaatus could read his brother that well.
"There's nothing to worry about," Katorr insisted. "There aren't the priests of M'dweshuu. They've given us access to the stars and a community of worlds. Money and resources are flowing into Kintan like never before. This is a whole new age for our people." He clapped a hand on Vaatus's shoulder. "You're lucky you came back in time to witness it. Great things are happening to our people. Stay and be part of it."
But Vaatus's first, unthinking instinct was to go. He pushed the impulse away. He'd abandoned his planet and his brother once. He could never allow himself to do it again.
"I'll stay for a while," he said. "I really want to understand what's going on here. Maybe I can help you. I've been to worlds most Nikto have never heard of. Maybe I can understand this Churabba in ways nobody else here can."
"You're more insistent than I remember. More strong-willed."
"I've grown up."
"I can tell." He squeezed Vaatus's shoulder again. "You have good timing. The Liberator herself is going to make a visitation to K'nala in eight days."
"A visitation? What does that mean?"
"I could try and describe it… but it would be best for you to see it for yourself." Katorr released his brother. "Enough questions about the Liberator, please. Let it rest for now. I want to know about you. All the places you've been, the people you've met, the adventures you've had." He gave a pleasant hiss. "You never knew how much I envied you."
"You envied me? Why?"
"Because you got away," Katorr said with melancholy, then brightened. "But we're both free now. It just took me a little longer than you. We're both free, and nothing can change that."
He could tell Katorr believed that firmly, so Vaatus believed it too.
-{}-
Deep inside the body of the Stormrider, protected from deadly space by kiirium plating, duranium armor, and layers of pressurized decks, Indrexu's crew sat restless in front of their consoles. Helmets, which could be donned in an emergency, hung on the walls above their heads. They eyed their screens, worked their control panels, and anxiously stirred in their crash webbing. The Stormrider's artificial gravity generators were shut down so that all power could be shunted to engines. They were about to insert themselves into one of the engagements flaring in Kurooine's orbit.
Indrexu was strapped into the seat beside Captain Miral. She, the captain, and the crew had rushed into battle like this many times, but everything felt different for the woman sitting on the queen's other shoulder.
Essan wore the same airtight blue bodysuit as the rest of them. In the command center's low light, Indrexu could see strands of stray black hair waving lazily against her scarlet profile. Her eyes were narrowly opened; she seemed to be peering past the ship's bulkheads, into deep space. Perhaps she was.
Though Essan had barely spoken since coming aboard, Indrexu couldn't help but feel disturbed.
This wasn't going to be a test of Essan's telekinetic abilities; the red woman had already insisted she couldn't stop missiles with her mind. This was a test of her other, more frightening skills. Indrexu had always had confidence that with the right tools she could conquer any obstacle, best any foe, even Xim himself. But Essan fought on a level beyond her understanding.
She was determined to keep this witch on her side—or kill her, if the latter was possible.
"All systems clear, Majesty," said Captain Miral. "Course is set. Ready to accelerate on your command."
"Thank you." She glanced at Essan, who nodded once. "Begin the charge."
The Stormrider's engines roared, sending shudders through the entire ship. G-forces pushed Indrexu into the back of her seat but she kept eyes on the sensor readout. As they were on the edge of Kurooine's gravity well, diving inbound, the planet's natural pull eased their acceleration and smoothed the course toward their target: the Victor's Crown, flagship of Admiral Kadenzi, centerpiece of the Imperial offensive.
It was a calculated risk. The Crown was also sitting just beyond Kurooine's orbit, safely clear of the long-range missile launchers on the planet's moons. However, it sat daringly close to Kuro II. If they could nudge Kadenzi into range of the lunar missiles, it would be an incredible coup.
The Crown, of course, was not unprotected. The Cadinthian dreadnought was guarded by a pair of Thanium polyremes and small flock of hemioliae. The Stormrider, by contrast, had only the Galecutter and Seawrack, both light pinnaces, to assist. But the Ranroon ships were built for hard, fast strikes, and this time, she prayed, they had a secret weapon.
As the three Ranroon ships accelerated, the Imperials began to react. Kadenzi was no fool; he began pushing the Victor's Crown toward the oncoming ships, away from Kuro II. Just as they appeared on-screen, the tactical officer reported, "Six incoming missiles."
"Get a track on them," Indrexu said. "Hold fire until we get closer. Do not decelerate."
The crew tensed but followed orders. Though no indication reached the bridge, the Stormrider's exterior laser cannons fired to intercept the missiles. The beams were short-range, low-energy, and rapid-fire, designed solely to destroy warheads; like the Imperials they fought, Indrexu's warships were all plated in laser-reflecting kiirium.
She watched the tactical screen and one saw missile wink out, then another until they were all wiped away. The Imperial polyremes were pulling ahead to intercept and block her path to the Victor's Crown. All as expected, so far.
"Prepare to break formation," Indrexu said. "Weapons, get a lock on the Crown but hold your fire until I say so. Galecutter and Seawrack have the same target. Fire when ready." As Miral and the crew complied she looked sideways at Essan. "Every-thing depends on the first pass and what they do after. Can you anticipate their reaction?"
The other woman closed her eyes tight. "I'll do what I can."
She sounded less certain than Indrexu would like. One way or another, this test would get informative results.
The Imperials launched a second wave of missiles as they got close. There was less time to track them and the Federation trio unleashed volleys of laserfire and spurts of chaff to distract the heat-seeking warheads. They plunged ahead, holding formation, while the two polyremes held position. It was a collision run.
"Galecutter is hit," Miral reported. "Losing engine power, venting atmosphere."
"Tell her to hold back and engage the polyremes."
On the screen, Indrexu saw the pinnace decelerate and, at the same time, spew a dozen light missiles spread between the two Imperial warships. A good distraction, so long as none of the missiles hit friendly ships.
Beside her, Essan said huskily, "They'll move."
And they did. Faced with two warships on collision courses and a spurt of missiles, the polyremes broke formation, falling slightly back and apart. That gave them a few crucial seconds more to intercept the missiles; it also allowed the Stormrider and Seawrack to slice through the gap.
Dead ahead was the Victor's Crown. The next seconds would decide everything. To Essan she whispered, "Be ready."
And the red witch said: "I am."
The pinnace and man'o'war opened fire. Their missiles immediately ran into a corona of defensive lasers and chaff spouting from the dreadnought. Seawrack veered past the ship's right flank and sped past it, but the Stormrider decelerated hard. The retro-burn was dizzying; crash webbing crunched into Indrexu's chest and she barely had the breath to shout, "Now!"
And as the Seawrack slowed to pass the crown, four harpoon cannons fired. Magnetized spearheads shot outward but stayed connected to the Stormrider by braided metal cable. Ranroon's pirates had used such weapons centuries ago to cripple victims; more recently Argaians had used them to plunder Cron's treasures and build the foundation of Xim's empire.
But Kadenzi was no Argaian; he was a Sorascan, civilized at his core, narrow in his thinking. She hoped he wouldn't be ready for this.
Harpooning another ship, especially one passing in the opposite direction, was always risky. Your shots could miss; worse, your own ship could be torn apart by the stress. The Stormrider lurched around them as all four harpoons struck home. Normally only two would hook, three at best; Essan's telekinesis at work? The witch's eyes stayed shut, revealing nothing.
"Fire on their engines!" Indrexu ordered. "Now! Now!"
That wasn't an order for the Stormrider, now pinned close to the Crown's flank. That was for the Seawrack, which spun onto the dreadnought's rear and began pumping missiles at its engine section. Ideally the Galecutter would have joined it, but two of Seawrack's warheads pierced the Crown's frantic flak screen and exploded against its engine section.
Essan said, "They're going to cut the cables with their lasers."
Indrexu didn't care how she knew. "Guns," she ordered, "Target all laser cannons."
The Stormrider's missile cannons used advanced computers to predict firing arcs and track targets; the flak guns had to be targeting manually, and the gunnery crews hurried to pick off as many laser cannons as they could with hails of bullets. At this range they were stunningly effective. The Crown's lasers cut through one cable, but only one.
"Accelerate," Indrexu ordered, "Pull her back."
"The polyremes are coming around," Essan whispered.
Premonition, or fact? The witch had her eyes still closed, but the screen showed her words true. The Galecutter was badly damaged, perhaps dead in space; the polyremes were changing direction and coming to the flagship's aid. At the same time, the Stormrider began to accelerate toward Kuro II. It was slow going; the Victor's Crown was a large ship, and though its engines were dead inertia tugged it in the opposite direction
But if they could reach peak acceleration, if they could hold off the polyremes a little longer if they could keep dragging Kadenzi, they could pull him within range of Kuro II's missiles.
So many variables, so many risks. But the reward—striking down Xim's top admiral—was everything she could hope for.
Indrexu couldn't resist. "Tell Seawrack to intercept the polyremes. Hold them off as long as she can." She knew she was sentencing a second ship to heavy damage, perhaps destruction, but the Victor's Crown was too great a prize.
Yet Essan told her, "They'll ignore Seawrack and head straight for you."
"You're certain?"
Essan nodded. Indrexu had only seconds to recalculate. Could she kill Kadenzi but save herself?
Not if Essan was right. And her advice, guesses, or visions had been correct about everything so far.
With a reluctant growl, the queen said, "Belay that order. Prepare to break cables. As soon as we're clear, give the Crown another volley. The same goes for Seawrack. One more round, then run."
"Yes, Majesty!" Miral sounded relieved.
G-force knocked them back in their seats as they cut cables and accelerated hard, leaving the Victor's Crown sputtering behind them. But that wasn't enough; Indrexu had come close to taking out Kadenzi and he needed to remember that. The Stormrider shuddered lightly as five missiles fired from its port-side cannons. At this close range, with its lasers already cut apart, the Crown could only defend itself with frantic bursts of chaff. At the same time, the Seawrack released three more warheads as a parting gift.
As both ships soared clear for Kuro II, the polyremes didn't pursue. Far behind them, the Galecutter limped away. The battle was over.
"Can we get damage report on the Crown?" asked Indexu.
A sensor officer said, "She's venting air into space at multiple points. Debris too. Engines seem to be dead but we're picking up heat emissions, probably from internal fires."
They'd knocked Kadenzi hard; they could have destroyed him entirely. Indrexu seethed with frustration. She'd gotten a taste of victory but it should have been a feast.
"Incoming from the Galecutter," a comm officer said. "They're down to one engine. Multiple hull breaches. Over a dozen casualties reported so far, plus twenty-three missing."
Missing, probably lost. A shame, but if they'd inflicted comparable damage on the much-larger Victor's Crown, it was a worthy sacrifice.
As it drew closer to Kuro II, the Stormrider cut power to engines. G-force lessened and it became easier to breathe. Indrexu's frustration ebbed. Relief and satisfaction replaced it. She looked, finally to Essan. The alien woman sat in her restraints with eyes open, looking to the ceiling. Not through it this time but simply at it, and the bridge around her.
"Your crew did well," she told Indrexu.
"So did you."
"You wanted to destroy the Crown, didn't you?"
"Badly," Indrexu admitted. "I'd have tried, if not for you. Everything you told me… did you really sense it all through your Force?"
"And intuition. They blend together, when you're in tune with it."
"And the harpoons?"
"I did what I could."
Essan said it without pride; she was merely stating facts. What was this creature, Indrexu wondered, who could work miracles so lightly?
But it wasn't so light. She saw sweat glisten on Essan's red brow, and the fading stress-lines on her face. It had taken effort to work that magic but work it she had.
"Did I pass your test?" Essan asked.
"I think you did."
"And now?"
Indrexu didn't respond, merely looked away, but she knew the answer. It was time to show Essan the Object and see what her new sorcerer had to say about old magic.
-{}-
Like a man hypnotized, Erakas kept returning, again and again, to the maintenance passage on the outer edge of the docking ring. The view through the portholes had a hold on him. He hated the great nothing that surrounded the dead light of stars, but he couldn't look away.
He couldn't explain it to Reina. He didn't even tell her where he was sulking. She accepted this at first, but after several days she started to press.
"Sohren's getting worried," she told him in the privacy of their bedroom. "He knows something's not right with you."
"He can feel it," Erakas said, "in the Force."
"He doesn't need the Force. Kids are more perceptive than you think." Reina touched his face softly, cautiously. "I'm sorry about your teacher, but there's nothing you can do for him now. You have to move ahead. I'm sure he'd have wanted that."
Yes he would, but Master Sohr had been wrong. It was impossible to explain his broken faith to someone he'd never shared it with.
When he said nothing Reina traced finger-tips along his cheek and asked, "What about Essan? Have you… felt anything from her?"
Erakas shook his head. "Nothing." He wished he had a way to contact her, but he didn't. He'd never thought he could feel so alone with his wife and child beside him.
"Well. I'm sure she can take care of herself."
Reina said it to comfort him, but it only hurt. She simply didn't understand. Losing his mentor was bad enough, but it felt like the Force—everything he'd believed and cherished about it—had deserted him too.
So he kept going to the maintenance corridor to contemplate dead stars and the great nothing. There, he thought bleakly, was the real truth of the universe, truth deeper than anything the Thythan Masters had prattled about.
He was meditating on the great nothing, basking in it, when the Force intruded on him yet again.
He felt panic, fear, despair; not his own but another's. For a short second he wondered if Essan was falling, but no. This was a stranger he felt, and the stranger was close by.
That feeling was like a cable and it reeled him in. Erakas allowed himself to be pulled through the cramped maintenance passages, away from the station's edge. Soon he began to hear noises: boots squeaking of metal, grunts of pain, whispers, body pounding body. He broke into a jog.
Noise and the Force guided him around two more corners before he found them: three humans surrounding a fourth figure, not human but another race. All were reduced to silhouettes against the dim glow of safety lights but Erakas could see that the humans were punching and kicking the alien, who lifted hands to defend but was backed against the wall and helpless.
None of them had noticed Erakas. He didn't have his lightsaber with him, but that didn't matter. He had the Force.
Feeling clarity for the first time in days, he ran into the fray.
He didn't give any warning, just grabbed two assailants by the shoulders and pulled them away from the alien. The third human didn't notice at first; he was busy pounding his victim in the stomach. The other humans immediately whirled on Erakas with swinging fists. He backstepped, dodged one blow, snapped a knee in between one man's legs. That one groaned and dropped but the second was bigger and threw himself atop Erakas. Hands like twin vises clamped around his neck and pinned the Jedi to the wall.
But the Force was with him. Feeling confident, almost calm, he summoned it and threw his attacker into the opposite wall. The man rebounded and Erakas snapped a high kick that caught him in the underside of the jaw.
By then the third man had finally noticed his presence. Worse, he'd procured a knife. They squared off above the collapsed bodies of two humans and one alien; the man was confident in his weapon so he bounded forward. Erakas sidestepped and tried to grab the man's wrist but he was too quick. The blade flashed up, cutting through part of his shirt, skimming over skin.
Time to stop toying. Erakas stepped away from his attacker and called on the Force again. This time he lifted the man off his feet and threw him straight up. His head cracked against the ceiling. Erakas let collapse, groaning, onto the floor.
His companions were rising, but not to continue the fight. They hobbled over to their partner, grabbed him by either shoulder, and started dragging him away, down the narrow passage to the main corridor. If Erakas had his lightsaber he might have tried arresting them; as it was, he decided to let them go.
The alien needed tending to. He squatted beside the figure, who was attempting to sit upright. Now he could recognize it as a lanky, brown-furred Saheelindeel, one of the more common non-human races found among Tionese starlanes. Scattered around the Saheelindeel were various belongings: a wallet, some data cards, a broken messenger case. It looked like residue from a mugging. He thought about going after the assailants, in case they'd stolen anything, but the Saheelindeel grasped his forearm tightly.
"Thank you," the alien wheezed in clear Tionese. "Thank you so much."
"Were they trying to rob you?"
"I couldn't help it… I was walking along the corridor and they just came out of nowhere and dragged me back here…"
"It's all right, they're gone now. Are you injured?"
"What do you think?" the Saheelindeel almost laughed, but it became a hacking cough.
"We should get you to a doctor. Can you stand?"
"I… I think…. Just, please, give me a moment…"
Erakas steered the alien by the shoulders so he might sit upright, back against the wall. The Saheelindeel looked around at his scattered possessions and judged, "I don't think they got away with anything…"
Erakas, still in a crouch, began to gather the objects up. "I'm sorry that happened. How long have you been on this station?"
"I was just passing through. I'm not a refugee, if that's what you mean."
"You have a ship?"
"I was travelling with friends… I shouldn't have walked alone, should I?"
"This station is usually safe. I'm very sorry."
"Don't be. You rescued me. That was… it was incredible." The Saheelindeel bared his canines in a smile. "I am Pres'carn. What is your name?"
"Call me Erakas."
"You have a strange accent. Not Cronese, not Estarian or Yutuski…"
"And you have a good ear."
"Thank you." Pres'carn coughed and lightly felt his chest. "I don't think they broke any ribs."
"You should still see a doctor. I know people on this station with pull."
"Then I really am lucky… or was it just luck?"
Erakas froze. "What do you mean?"
"How did you find me? They dragged me down here, to this place, where there'd be nobody around…"
"I heard you."
"Was that all?" Pres'carn tilted his head. "The man with the knife… I saw what happened. You didn't touch him, he just flew."
Erakas had let his Force-powers slip before; usually he could brush it off, but this Saheelindeel was insistent. Gripping his forearm tighter, Pres'carn asked, "Did you… see me get attacked? Like a vision?"
Now Erakas was curious. "What kind of vision?"
"Like… prophecy? Are you a seer, Erakas?"
Some Jedi were blessed (or cursed) with visions of the future, but Erakas had never been one of them. At best he had vague presentiments; today he'd merely felt Pres'carn's distress with basic empathic skills.
"I'm not a prophet," he said honestly. "Why did you think I would be?"
"I thought you might be like him," Pres'carn said eyes widening. "Our prophet."
Was he really talking about someone with the Force? The Tion cluster was seemingly bereft of it; not just its humans but its native aliens. "Is this someone on Saheelindeel?"
"No, no. Have you ever heard of the Prophet of Idux?"
Idux sounded only vaguely familiar, one of those barely-settled worlds beyond even Xim's empire. "I've never heard of any prophet. Is he human? Saheelindeeli?"
"No, he is of another species, one we've never seen before."
"We?"
"There are those of us with troubled hearts or heavy pasts who've heard of the Prophet and sought him out. He does more than just see the future. He looks inside us." He tapped the center of his chest. "He guides us and shows us peace."
Peace was something Erakas needed right now. Even more, he needed a sign that Force was worth something against the great nothing. His heart leaped, but he tried to be skeptical. "Where did this prophet come from?"
"He is a mystery, but his prophecies are real. He told me, before I left Idux, that I would meet someone special, someone like him."
"You think I'm like him? I told you, I'm no prophet."
"But you have power, the kind the rest of us don't have. I saw the way you moved that man through the air. The Prophet can do the same. I've seen it."
It sounded too good to be true, but Erakas could see no other explanation: there was another Force-user at work in the Tion. Even if Pres'carn was mistaken, or victim of some con, he had to go to Idux to investigate. He had so many more questions to ask, but the Saheelindeel was injured and needed attention.
First things first, he reminded himself. Slinging one arm around Pres'carn's waist, he said, "We can talk more later. Let's get you to a doctor."
-{}-
Erakas returned late to their apartment, after Sohren had swallowed down his Mizarian beef stew while Erakas's own plate was starting to cool. Reina knew he was hurting but dropping out on his family to mope around the station was crossing a line, and she'd planned to tell him that when he returned. Yet when he stepped through the door he didn't look sullen anymore. He was, in fact, energetic and bright.
That was when she knew she was going to lose him.
They sat the kitchen table, all three of them. Erakas explained his meeting with the Saheelindeel and all the alien had told him. If Pres'carn could be believed (if, Reina thought) there was another Force-user on the planet Idux. A small colony of followers had gathered around the supposed prophet, though Pres'carn insisted he was not their ruler.
Erakas had questioned the Saheelindeel in depth after taking him to a doctor. While recouping from his attack, Pres'carn had answered everything clearly. Erakas said he'd felt no evasion. This prophet had been on Idux for several decades and did not seem to belong to any race native to Tion, nor any Erakas had known in the Deep Core. That meant the prophet had either discovered the Force on his own or come from a totally new Force-using civilization.
"There's no telling what he can teach me," Erakas said eagerly. "He may belong to a totally different Force tradition, or he may have learned everything himself. Either way he'll have a totally different view from what the Jedi taught. That alone means I have to talk to him."
Sohren stirred more than usual in his chair; was his father's energy rubbing off on him? Reina concentrated on her husband. "You don't even know if this Prophet can use the Force. He could just be some kind of religious leader."
"He doesn't just see the future, he uses the Force the same way I do, to move objects, to look into other peoples' hearts, to touch their minds."
"That's what Pres'carn says."
"Listen, I know you're skeptical. You should be. Maybe this is just a cult, or a con… but if I meet the prophet, and he really can use the Force, then I'll know." He leaned across the table and touched her hand. "I have to find out, one way or another. I have to go to Idux."
She knew he'd say that, and she knew there was no talking out of it. Deep down, she'd known that what they had here on Santossa Station, precarious and cozy, would never last. Erakas had powers nobody else did, and that meant his life would never be ordinary. She didn't believe in destiny but Erakas did, and his was a kind of belief that made reality out of airy nothing. That destiny was bound to take him away from her.
But against logic and reason she'd hoped it wouldn't, because she loved him.
"Maybe we could go with you," she offered, but it sounded weak as she said it.
Erakas shook his head. "Malanthazaar needs your help with the station. And there's no telling what it's like on Idux. I doubt it's the kind of place for Sohren."
They both looked at the boy. She said, "You're not rushing him off to another teacher, then."
"Not until I size the new guy up." Erakas smiled softly. "Don't worry, I'll keep in touch. Idux isn't the edge of the galaxy. It's not that far from Rhen Var."
"And outside the Empire. I guess I should be thankful for small graces." She sighed. "If this prophet's the real deal, and he really can teach you all kinds of new things about the Force…"
She let the question trail off. He cupped her hand tighter. "I'm not leaving you two. I'll come back, I promise."
She looked into her eyes and knew he meant it. She wished that was enough.
"How will you get there?" she asked.
"Pres'carn has a ship."
"Just his?"
"Others, too. They were resupplying before going to Idux."
"And he just happens to run into you."
"He didn't run into me, I saved him," Erakas said with pride.
"Then I guess the Force was working," she said, not even sure if she was sarcastic.
"I think it was." So serious, so hopeful.
Sohren, shifting anxiously all the while, finally said, "How long will you be gone, Dada?"
"Only as long as I have to be." Erakas went over to his son, cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead. "I'll be back soon, don't worry."
"Can we have more lessons then?"
"Absolutely. And I'll have all sorts of new things to teach you." Still touching Sohren's face, he took Reina's hand again. "Things will get better for us after this, I promise."
Because he meant it, she smiled. But she didn't believe it, and her smile dropped as soon as he looked away.