Dark Tide 1: Onslaught (5 page)

Kyp's head came up. “Then what do you suggest, Jacen?”

Before his nephew could answer, Luke raised a hand to stop the discussion. “Our situation is this: We've got a foe who is able to blindside us coming forward in unknown numbers, at unknown sites, for reasons unknown, and a galactic government that has decided to do nothing about it. That government also does not trust us. I think, no matter which way this turns out, we will be in for a lot of blame.”

“All the more reason we shouldn't care what the government thinks.” Wurth Skidder tucked his thumbs in his belt. “They're clearly not interested in what's best for the galaxy.”

“Meaning we are?” Streen fixed the younger Jedi with a hard stare. “That's what you're saying, isn't it?”

“What he is saying, Streen, is that disaster has struck the galaxy whenever the Jedi order has been weakened.” Kyp pointed a hand toward Luke. “If we will be blamed for what happens, I would rather be blamed for being zealous in attacking this problem, than timid in waiting for developments.”

Luke closed his eyes for a moment and studied the danger in Kyp's comment. The Jedi Knights were always meant to be defenders of peace, but Kyp encouraged offensive action, proactive and preemptive strikes. He'd called his squadron the Dozen-and-Two Avengers, instead of something more suitable like the Defenders. Now he spoke of
attacking
the problem.
To some it might be word games, but the words he uses to express his ideas and communicate them to others show me how close to the edge he is.

The closeness to the edge did not surprise Luke, for he'd seen it develop in Kyp over the years. While still an apprentice, Kyp had been influenced by the spirit of a dead Sith Lord. He'd stolen a superweapon and destroyed the planet Carida, killing billions. Kyp had worked tirelessly to atone for what he had done, but had chosen more difficult and visible campaigns as time went on, so more people could see that he
was
making amends.
This invasion must seem to Kyp as a grand crusade through which he can win the acceptance of even his most harsh critics.

Luke opened his eyes again, then took a step down toward the crowd of Jedi before him. “It is premature to speak of any attacking of the Yuuzhan Vong. Jacen is right—we cannot stand against them alone. Our job, right now, is to prepare for the worst and to learn as much about the Yuuzhan Vong as we can. We have to have good and useful data the New Republic can use to plan a defense or an offense. Our role here is as guardians, and our skills can allow us to scout out this threat. Once we have good intelligence about the Yuuzhan Vong, then we can plan what we will do.”

He looked around at the Jedi Knights arrayed there: male, female, human, and nonhuman. “Over the next week or so I will give you assignments. I will be sending you into dangers I cannot even guess at knowing. I hope all of you will return unhurt, but I know that will not happen. While the outside world may be divided about us, we cannot afford to be divided against ourselves. If we do not stand together, we will be torn apart, and with us will fall our galaxy.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Leia turned from her packed luggage and glanced at the suite's doorway as C-3PO opened the door and admitted Elegos A'Kla. The Caamasi wore a gold cloak over his shoulders, and subtle weaving of purple threads into it mimicked the striping on his face and shoulders. The Caamasi gave her a quick smile, then waved off C-3PO's invitation to take his cloak.

She sighed. “I thought I'd be ready by now, but I'm just finishing my packing. Don't know when I'll be back here, and I wanted to take a few things with me.”

“Please, take your time.” Elegos shrugged simply. “If not for my senatorial duties, we would have been away from here a week ago.”

Leia waved him into the two-level suite's central chamber, and the Caamasi settled himself into one of the nerf-hide chairs angled toward the big viewport that looked out over Coruscant's cityscape. A hallway heading back to the south led to her study—which had once been the boys' room—and a smaller bedroom they'd given to Jaina and then, during her time at the academy, had turned into a guest room. The master bedroom lay in the second level, accessed by a curving stairway built against the far wall. The kitchen had been installed to the north of the living room, with a small dining area between it and the living room.

Leia stuffed a small holocube into a bag and started closing the fasteners. “The senate didn't want to let you head out immediately?”

“I doubt they wanted me to head out at all, but they had no choice. Instead I was given committee assignments and work to clear. My daughter is dealing with most of it for me. Releqy will serve as my liaison with the senate in my absence. This is why I've not been in closer communication with you.”

“But your daughter has, so I've been apprised of your delays.” Leia straightened up and looked at the three red fabric bags she had stuffed to bursting with clothes and other things she couldn't bear to leave behind.
I left Alderaan with even less than this. Here I am, a quarter of a century later, a refugee once more—this time of my conscience rather than any external act.
“I should have been ready before this, but things keep cropping up.”

Before she could even attempt to explain, she saw Elegos's nostrils flare and his gaze flick past her to the upper landing for the stairs. She turned and found her husband, Han, hanging there in the doorway, his hands on either side of the jamb. She shivered because the haggard look on his face and the position of his hands reminded her far too much of when he had been frozen in carbonite. She wanted to believe the darkness under his eyes was just shadow, but she couldn't deceive herself that way.

She heard Elegos rise from his chair. “Captain Solo.”

Han's head came up slowly, and his eyes narrowed as he faced the voice. “A Caamasi? Elegos, isn't it? A senator?”

“Yes.”

Han staggered forward and almost fell down the stairs. He caught himself on the banister, made it down a couple more steps, then slid his way around the curve. He got his feet under him again, leapt the last few steps to the floor, and strode past Leia. With a grunt, he flopped down almost boneless into one of the chairs opposite Elegos. In the viewport's light, the rainbow of stains on Han's once-white tunic was evident, as was the grime at cuffs, collar, and elbows. His boots were badly scuffed, his trousers wrinkled, and his hair utterly unkempt. He ran a hand over beard stubble, flashing dirty fingernails as he did so.

“I have a question for you, Elegos.”

“If I can be of service.”

Han nodded as if his head were balanced on his spine instead of connected by muscle. “I understand you Caamasi have memories, strong memories.”

Leia extended a hand toward Elegos. “Forgive me, Elegos. I learned about that from Luke, and I thought, my husband . . .”

The Caamasi shook his head. “I have no doubt you all are to be trusted with the information about our memnii. Momentous events in our lives create memories. We are able, among our kind, and with certain Jedi, to transfer these memories. They have to be strong memories, powerful ones, to become memnii.”

“Yeah, the strong ones do stick around.” Han focused somewhere between the wall and the edge of the viewport. He fell silent for a moment, then fixed Elegos with a hard stare. “So what I want to know is this: How do you get rid of them? How do you get them out of your head?”

The tortured tone of Han's voice drove a vibroblade through Leia's heart. “Oh, Han . . .”

He held up a hand to keep her back. His expression sharpened. “How do you do it, Elegos?”

The Caamasi lifted his chin. “We cannot get rid of them, Captain Solo. By sharing them we share the burden of them, but we can never be rid of them.”

Han snarled, then curled forward in the chair, grinding the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I'd tear them out if that would stop me from seeing, you know, I would, I really would. I can't stop seeing it, seeing him, seeing him die . . .”

The man's voice sank to a bass rumble; rough, raw, and ragged as broken ferrocrete. “There he was, standing there. He'd saved my son. He'd saved Anakin. He tossed him up into my arms. Then, when I saw him again, a gust of wind knocked him down and collapsed a building on top of him. But he got up. He was bloody and torn up, but he got up again. On his feet, he got up and he raised his arms toward me. He raised his arms toward me, so I could save him, the way he'd saved Anakin.”

Han's voice squeaked to silence. His larynx bobbed up and down.

“I saw him, don't you get it? I saw him standing there as the moon hit Sernpidal. The air just combusted. He was standing there, roaring, screaming. The light turned him black. Just a silhouette. Then it ate into him. I saw his bones. They turned black, too, then white, so white I couldn't watch. Then nothing.” Han swiped at his nose with a hand. “My best friend, my only true friend, and I let him die. How am I supposed to live with that? How do I get that out of my head? Tell me.”

Elegos's voice came softly, but with a strength that belied its gentle tone. “What you remember is partly what you saw and partly your fears. You see yourself as having failed him, and you think that's how he saw you at the last, but can't be sure. Memories are not always that clear.”

“You don't know, you weren't there.”

“No, but I have been in similar situations.” The Caamasi sank into a crouch, with his cloak pooling to the floor around him. “The first time I used a blaster, I shot three men. I watched them dance and collapse. I watched them die, and I knew I would carry that memory with me forever, the memory of me killing them. Then it was explained to me: the blaster had only been set to stun them. My belief was wrong, as, perhaps, is yours.”

Han shook his head defiantly. “Chewie was my
friend
. He counted on me, and I failed him.”

“I do not believe he would see it that way.”

Han snarled. “You didn't know him. How would you know?”

Elegos laid a hand on the man's knee. “I didn't know him, but I have known of him for decades. Even what you just told me now, that he saved your son, tells me how much he loved you.”

“He couldn't love me. Chewie died hating me. I abandoned him, I left him there to die. His last thoughts were filled with hatred for me.”

“No, Han, no.” Leia dropped to her knees beside Han's chair and clutched his left forearm. “You can't believe that.”

“I was there, Leia. I was close to saving Chewie, and I failed. I left him there to die.”

“Regardless of what you believe, Captain Solo, Chewbacca did not share that view.”

“What? How can you know what he was thinking?”

“The same way you will.” The Caamasi blinked his violet eyes. “He saved your son. In Chewbacca's eyes, Anakin saved you by piloting the
Millennium Falcon
to safety. Yet one more time Chewbacca saved you, this time through your son. You don't know that now, but you will come to see that is the truth. When you relive this memory, think about that. As noble a hero as Chewbacca was, he could not have had anything but joy at knowing you survived. To think anything less demeans him.”

Han shot to his feet, pitching the chair over backward. “How dare you? How dare you come into my home and tell me I'm demeaning my friend? What gives you the right?”

Elegos slowly rose and spread open hands before him. “I apologize for any offense, Captain Solo. I have intruded on your grief. It was unthinkable.”

He bowed to Leia. “My apologies to you, as well. I shall leave you.”

“Don't bother.” Han stalked forward between them, then headed toward the door. “Threepio, find out from Coruscant's constabulary which tapcafs lead the list for incident reports. Comlink me the list.”

Leia got up. “Han, don't go. I'm going to be leaving soon.”

“I know. Off to save the galaxy again, that's my Leia.” He didn't turn to face her, just hunched his shoulders. “I hope you have better luck. I failed to save even one person.”

The suite's closing door eclipsed Han Solo's back.

C-3PO, his head cocked at an angle, looked at Leia. “Mistress? What do I do?”

Leia closed her eyes and sighed. “Get the list, give it to him. Maybe call Wedge or any of the other retired Rogues. Hobbie or Janson or someone ought to be at loose ends and could keep an eye on him. And when he comes back, take good care of him.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder. “Leia, I can head out to the Rim on my own. You can stay here to care for your husband. I can report to you.”

She opened her eyes, then covered Elegos's hand with her own. “No, Elegos, I need to go. Even that deep in grief, Han's right. I want to stay, all of me wants to stay, but I have to go. Others can't, so it is up to us to rescue them. Han can take care of himself—he'll have to.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Luke looked up and smiled as Corran escorted his two nephews into the briefing room.

“Did you see your sister off on the shuttle?”

“She's on her way.” Jacen, the older one, glanced around the room, always looking to see if anything had changed since the last time he'd been there. “She wishes she had a better assignment.”

“I'm sure she does.” Luke watched Jacen for a moment.
Always checking the world, verifying what he could assume, not trusting until he is certain.
“Right now, I need her picking up Danni at Commenor, then meeting with your mother and Senator A'Kla.”

Anakin, the younger nephew, toyed with an ancient piece of equipment left in the corner since the time when the Rebels fought the Empire in the skies above Yavin 4. “If Danni had just stayed with our mother on Coruscant, she could have come out with her and not needed Jaina.”

Jacen frowned. “Jaina's going to help Danni work on her Force skills, that's why she's going. They'll be traveling for a few days with nothing else to do, and Jaina's a good teacher.”

Luke nodded. “And, after her ordeal, Danni did need time to meet with her family and assure them she was unharmed.” He didn't know if “unharmed” was accurate; the trauma of capture by the Yuuzhan Vong had to have been severe. Still, Danni Quee had been intelligent and resilient, so Luke felt she'd recover from her ordeal if given the proper support.

Anakin popped the panel off the old transceiver and peered inside. “What is it you have for us to do? Pretty much everyone else has their assignments already. I bet it's something good.”

Jacen snorted in his brother's direction, narrowing his brown eyes. “He let the others go first because our assignments are going to be no better than Jaina's.”

Corran frowned. “How did you get a target lock on that idea?”

Jacen half turned to face the Corellian Jedi. “He won't play favorites because of his relationship to us, and realistically, we are young. At least, by saving us for last, he saves us some embarrassment.”

Jacen's words didn't seem as full of disappointment as they should have, which reinforced a decision Luke had already made concerning assignments. “Anakin.”

The younger boy, blue eyes bright, glanced over at his uncle. “What?”

“I'm going to have you accompany Mara to Dantooine.”

“Huh? What?” Anakin straightened up. His brows furrowed, and just for a second, Luke caught an angry expression that meant trouble whenever he'd seen it on Han Solo's face. “But I thought I'd be out doing something . . . I thought . . .” The anger that had flashed over his face drained away with his words. “I understand.”

Luke arched an eyebrow at him. “And what is it you understand?”

“You don't trust me.” Anakin looked down at his dust-smeared fingertips and whispered hoarsely, “You don't trust me because I killed Chewbacca.”

The mournful tone of the boy's voice sent a shiver down Luke's spine. Regret and hurt poured off Anakin, underscoring the turmoil he felt over the Wookiee's death.
Anakin has always wanted to be a hero, has always wanted to redeem his name, and suddenly finds himself drowning in a tragedy.

“There is something you must understand, Anakin, first and foremost: You did not kill Chewbacca.” Luke walked over to his nephew and rested his hands on the boy's shoulders. Using his thumbs, he tipped the boy's face up until their gazes met. “The Yuuzhan Vong caused Sernpidal's moon to come crashing down into the planet, not you. For you to accept blame for Chewbacca's death absolves them of his murder and the murder of all those you couldn't save. You can't do that.”

Anakin swallowed hard. “It sounds logical when you say it, but, in my heart, what I feel . . . What I see in my father's eyes.”

Luke lowered his face to a level with Anakin's. “Don't be reading something into your father's eyes that isn't there. He's a good man, with a good heart. He'd never blame you for Chewie's death.”

The Jedi Master straightened up again. “Regardless of misunderstanding, I don't know how you can think I don't trust you. I am very specifically entrusting to you my wife, the person I hold most dear.”

The boy frowned. “Are you sure it's not the other way around?”

“Ah, Anakin, do you think Mara would like an assignment baby-sitting an untrustworthy apprentice?”

“Um, no.”

“And do you think she'd give me an earful about it?”

Corran laughed. “An earful would be getting off lightly.”

Anakin smiled a little. “I guess she would, Uncle Luke.”

“I may be adept in the ways of the Force, but there's no Jedi ability that'll take the sting out of the sharp side of her tongue.” Luke stepped back and gave Anakin a brave smile. “Mara needs some time to get her illness under control. Dantooine is a world teeming with life, so it's full of the Force. I want her there to be able to recover, and I want you with her to help her out. If you'll accept this mission, I'll be very grateful.”

Anakin hesitated for a moment then nodded. “Thanks for trusting me.”

“I've never had any doubts about you, Anakin.” Luke winked at him. “You should go get your things together, then see to gathering the provisions you'll need on Dantooine.”

“Blasters and lightsabers included?”

Luke nodded. “Lightsabers, of course. Blasters because I think you can use the work concentrating and focusing the Force. Target practice demands that sort of concentration.”

Anakin's smile broadened. “Besides, Aunt Mara wouldn't be caught dead without a blaster.”

“Only one?” Corran laughed. “Run heavy on the power packs, Anakin.”

The youth clapped his hands together. “I'll take good care of her, Uncle Luke, I really will. We'll come back ready to do whatever we need to beat the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“I'm sure of it.” Luke nodded to his nephew and watched the boy leave the room. He waited until he could sense Anakin's presence descending in the turbolift, then turned his attention to Jacen. “Do you really think I've got some embarrassing duty planned for you?”

“No, Uncle Luke, I'm just afraid I might embarrass you.”

Luke turned and walked toward the table that had been behind him. He gave himself a moment to ponder Jacen's words. He turned and leaned back against the table. “I suppose this conversation has been coming for a while, hasn't it?”

“Probably.” Jacen shrugged. “I've been thinking since the Yuuzhan Vong arrived, and since all the Jedi were here and talking.”

“Sounds like this is a family talk.” Corran levered himself away from the room's back wall. “I'll return later.”

Jacen held a hand up. “No, wait. It
is
a family matter, but one for the entire Jedi family, not just us.”

Corran looked at Luke. “Luke?”

“Do stay. I suspect more than two perspectives will be useful here.” Luke looked over at his nephew. “What have you been thinking?”

The youth sighed, and a certain amount of relief pulsed off him. “If this sounds harsh, I don't mean it to be, but I've come to realize something pretty fundamental about the Jedi order. We're all trained to use the Force to allow us to do things to keep the peace and stave off disaster. We do that because we're following your teaching. You're following the teaching of your masters, Uncle Luke, but they had to instruct you in those things you needed to defeat the Empire. They did a great job forging you into a weapon, and you even went beyond their training to do things they probably didn't think you could.”

The Jedi Master nodded. “I can accept that.”

“Okay, the thing of it is that you were shaped as a weapon by Jedi Masters who were part of a tradition that had developed into peacekeepers. I get the feeling, though, that's not how the Jedi began. I think the Jedi philosophy started as something that strengthened people within. The
powers
we manifest—I think those are all outgrowths of the internal strengthening, but a lot of
those
teachings were lost along the way. I mean, I feel the need for something inside.”

With anguish on his face, Jacen looked at his uncle. “I'm not sure being a Jedi Knight is my calling in life. I'd really prefer it if you gave me no assignment at all.”

Luke shifted his shoulders involuntarily as a twitch shot up his spine. “Wow, I'd not expected that.”

Jacen glanced at the floor. “I'm sorry I disappointed you.”

“No, it's not that.” Luke frowned. “I was going to tell you that what you wanted didn't matter right now because I need you. And as I was getting ready to say that, I heard Uncle Owen telling me the same thing, right before he died.”

Jacen's head came up. “Then you understand?”

“Oh, very well.”

“Then you'll let me seek the answers I need?”

“No.” Luke held his hands up quickly. “I mean, yes, you'll be able to seek for your answers, but not as a replacement for an assignment. You have to remember that absolutely key to the Jedi philosophy is a respect for all life. For you to go off now means you'd be putting your life ahead of that of others, and that's not good.”

“But, Uncle Luke, you've always put yourself last. You—and Mom and Dad and everyone else—are always being pulled every which way.” He balled his fists and pounded them against his hips. “You don't have the time to figure out what it is you need to do to develop yourself further in the Force. You're always distracted.”

Corran scratched at his throat. “You've got a point there, Jacen, but you're assuming that only by going off like a hermit to contemplate the Force and your integration with it are you going to be able to get anywhere. That's just not true.”

“How do you know, Corran?” Jacen crossed his arms over his chest. “None of the Jedi alive today have had that chance. For all we know, Yoda spent the first three centuries of his life as a hermit. Maybe that's what we need to do.”

“Or, maybe, Jacen, that's just one path to get where you want to go.” Corran pointed a finger at Luke. “Your uncle and I differed over paths to becoming a Jedi Knight, but we're both here. And, sure, there might be distractions out there, but there are lessons learned from doing things and succeeding or failing that aren't easy to learn from tranquil consideration. You're right, having time to consider them and their consequences is useful, but I find it hard to concentrate on introspection when folks out there are in trouble.”

Luke nodded in agreement. “Corran's point is well taken, Jacen. I do understand what you are saying, and I promise you that if you decide that your path is one of introspection, I won't stand in your way.”

The youth's eyes narrowed with suspicion. “There's a catch.”

“There is. I really
do
need you. I've saved the most dangerous mission in all this for myself, and I want you with me. Because you've dealt with the Yuuzhan Vong before, you have the experience I need. We're taking Artoo and going back to Belkadan, to see what that Yuuzhan Vong agent was trying to create there. This is a very important mission, and I really do need you with me.”

Corran snorted. “Great, I guess that leaves the aforementioned embarrassing mission for me.”

Jacen glanced at him. “Trade you.”

“No, you won't.” Luke reached down and clutched the edge of the table. “You wouldn't like the assignment I'm giving him, and given what you've told me, you're really not suited to it. The Belkadan mission, however, is one you're perfect for.”

Jacen's face closed for a second, then he nodded, but stiffly. “I'll go along with you for now, but I have such mixed feelings. I'm afraid I'll be no help to anyone.”

“Fair enough.”

The youth bowed his head. “If you will permit me, Uncle Luke, I'll leave you two to discuss Corran's mission.”

“No, wait, listen to what you almost asked to do.”

Corran rolled his eyes. “This is going to be worse than I thought.”

Luke laughed. “Okay, so yours is the second most dangerous mission. Out on the Rim there's a system designated MZX33291 by Imperial surveyors. It has a pulsar in the area that disrupts communications from the only habitable world in the system. The Empire had made the planet off-limits to everyone for reasons that are unclear. There is some evidence that they had xenoarchaeological teams out there, but no trace of what they might have discovered.”

“Okay. You think the Yuuzhan Vong are there?”

“I don't know.” Luke shrugged. “The University of Agamar uncovered the records concerning the fifth world there, which they've named Bimmiel after the Imperial survey team leader. About three months ago they sent a xenoarch survey team out as part of a for-credit course. No one has heard from them, which isn't wholly unexpected. We were sent word by the university administrators, who thought, if we had Jedi in the area, we could swing by and make sure everything was okay.”

The Corellian smiled. “They think our budget for interstellar travel is bigger than theirs?”

“Something like that. I also think they believe Jedi will be better in the rescuing department than students they might send out.” Luke sighed. “Initial reports from the team indicated the climate had changed from that seen by the Imperial surveyors. The students arrived during the stormy season there. It's pretty severe.”

Corran nodded. “Bad weather doesn't sound that dangerous.”

“I want you to take Ganner Rhysode with you. He'll be your partner.”

The Corellian hissed. “That trade offer still good, Jacen?”

“If it's any consolation, Corran, Ganner was no more in favor of this pairing than you were when I told him what he'd be doing.” Luke gave his friend a simple smile. “Look, if there is nothing going on out there, then the mission should be simple. You get in, you locate the university's people and evacuate them.”