Luke swallowed. "Yes, Master C'baoth," he said. "But reading another person's thoughts that way seems wrong-"
"When you are using that knowledge to help him?" C'baoth countered. "How can that be wrong?"
Luke waved a hand helplessly. "I'm trying to understand, Master C'baoth. But this is all so new to me."
C'baoth's bushy eyebrows lifted. "Is it, Jedi Skywalker? Is it really? You mean you ve never violated someone's personal preference in order to help him? Or ignored some minor bureaucratic rule that stood between you and what needed to be done?"
Luke felt his cheeks flush, thinking back to Lando's use of that illegal slicer code to get his X-wing repaired at the Sluis Van shipyards. "Yes, I've done that on occasion," he admitted. "But this is different, somehow. It feels : I don't know. Like I'm taking more responsibility for these people's lives than I should."
"I understand your concerns," C'baoth said, less severely this time. "But that is indeed the crux of the matter. It is precisely the acceptance and wielding of responsibility that sets a Jedi apart from all others in the galaxy." He sighed deeply. "You must never forget, Luke, that in the final analysis these people are primitives. Only with our guidance can they ever hope to achieve any real maturity."
"I wouldn't call them primitive, Master C'baoth," Luke suggested hesitantly. "They have modern technology, a reasonably efficient system of government-"
"The trappings of civilization without the substance," C'baoth said with a contemptuous snort. Machines and societal constructs do not define a culture's maturity, Jedi Skywalker. Maturity is defined solely by the understanding and use of the Force."
His eyes drifted away, as if peering into the past. "There was such a society once, Luke," he said softly. "A vast and shining example of the heights all could aspire to. For a thousand generations we stood tall among the lesser beings of the galaxy, guardians of justice and order. The creators of true civilization. The Senate could debate and pass laws; but it was the Jedi who turned those laws into reality."
His mouth twisted. "And in return, the galaxy destroyed us."
Luke frowned. "I thought it was just the Emperor and a few Dark Jedi who exterminated the Jedi."
C'baoth smiled bitterly. "Do you truly believe that even the Emperor could have succeeded in such a task without the consent of the entire galaxy?" He shook his head. "No, Luke. They hated us-all the lesser beings did. Hated us for our power, and or knowledge, and our wisdom. Hated us for our maturity." His smile vanished. "And that hatred still exists. Waiting only for the Jedi to reemerge to blaze up again."
Luke shook his head slowly. It didn't really seem to fit with what little he knew about the destruction of the Jedi. But on the other hand, he hadn't lived through that era. C'baoth had. "Hard to believe," he murmured.
"Believe it, Jedi Skywalker," C'baoth rumbled. His eyes caught Luke's, burning suddenly with a cold fire. "That's why we must stand together, you and I. Why we must never let down our guard before a universe that would destroy us. Do you understand?"
"I think so," Luke said, rubbing at the corner of his eye. His mind felt so sluggish in the fatigue dragging at him. And yet, even as he tried to think about C'baoth's words, images flowed unbidden from his memory. Images of Master Yoda, gruff but unafraid, with no trace of bitterness or anger toward anyone at the destruction of his fellow Jedi. Images of Ben Kenobi in the Mos Eisley cantina, treated with a sort of aloof respect, but respect nonetheless, after he'd been forced to cut down those two troublemakers.
And clearest of all, images of his encounter at the New Cov tapcafe. Of the Barabel, asking for the mediation of a stranger, and accepting without question even those parts of Luke's judgment that had gone against him. Of the rest of the crowd, watching with hope and expectation and relief that a Jedi was there to keep things from getting out of hand. "I haven't experienced any such hatred."
C'baoth gazed at him from under bushy eyebrows. "You will," he said darkly. "As will your sister. And her children."
Luke's chest tightened. "I can protect them."
"Can you teach them, as well?" C'baoth countered. "Have you the wisdom and skill to bring them to full knowledge of the was of the Force?"
"I think so, yes.
C'baoth snorted. "If you think but do not know then you gamble with their lives," he bit out. "You risk their futures over a selfish whim."
"It's not a whim, Luke insisted. "Together, Leia and I can do it."
"If you try, you will risk losing them to the dark side," C'baoth said flatly. He sighed, his eyes drilling away from Luke as he looked around the room. "We can't take that chance, Luke," he said quietly. "There are so few of us as it is. The endless war for power still rages-the galaxy is in turmoil. We who remain must stand together against those who would destroy everything." He turned his eyes suddenly back on Luke. "No; we can't risk being divided and destroyed again. You must bring your sister and her children to me."
"I can't do that," Luke said. C'baoth's expression changed-"Not now, at least," Luke amended hastily. "It wouldn't be safe for Leia to travel right now. The Imperials have been hunting her for months, and Jomark isn't all that far from the edge of their territory."
"Do you doubt that I can protect her?"
"I:no, I don't doubt you," Luke said, choosing his words carefully. "It's just that-"
He paused. C'baoth had gone abruptly stiff, his eyes gazing outward at nothing. "Master C'baoth?" he asked. "Are you all right?"
There was no reply. Luke stepped to his side, reaching out with the Force and wondering uneasily if the other was ill. But as always the Jedi Master's mind was closed to him. "Come, Master C'baoth," he said, taking the other's arm. "I'll help you to your chambers."
C'baoth blinked twice, and with what seemed to be an effort, brought his gaze back to Luke's face. He took a shuddering breath; and suddenly he was back to normal again. "You're tired, Luke," he said. "Leave me and return to your chambers for sleep."
Luke was tired, he had to admit. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," C'baoth assured him, a strangely grim tone to his voice.
"Because if you need my help-"
"I said leave me!" C'baoth snapped. "I am a Jedi Master. I need help from no one.
Luke found himself two paces back from C'baoth without any recollection of having taken the steps. "I'm sorry, Master C'baoth," he said. "I didn't mean any disrespect.
The other's face softened a bit. "I know you didn't," he said. He took another deep breath, exhaled it quietly. "Bring your sister to me, Jedi Skywalker. I will protect her from the Empire; and will teach her such power as you can't imagine."
Far in the back of Luke's mind, a small warning bell went off. Something about those words : or perhaps the way C'baoth had said them :
"Now return to your chambers," C'baoth ordered. Once again his eyes seemed to be drifting away toward nothing. "Sleep, and we will talk further in the morning."
He stood before her, his face half hidden by the cowl of his robe, his yellow eyes piercingly bright as they gazed across the infinite distance between them. His lips moved, but his words were drowned out by the throaty hooting of alarms all around them, filling Mara with an urgency that was rapidly edging into panic. Between her and the Emperor two figures appeared: the dark, imposing image of Darth Vader, and the smaller blackclad figure of Luke Skywalker. They stood before the Emperor, facing each other, and ignited their lightsabers. The blades crossed, brilliant red-white against brilliant green-white, and they prepared for battle.
And then, without warning, the blades disengaged : and with twin roars of hatred audible even over the alarms, both turned and strode toward the Emperor.
Mara heard herself cry out as she struggled to rush to her master's aid. But the distance was too great, her body too sluggish. She screamed a challenge, trying to at least distract them. But neither Vader nor Skywalker seemed to hear her. They moved outward to flank the Emperor : and as they lifted their lightsabers high, she saw that the Emp
eror was gazing at her.
She looked back at him, wanting desperately to turn away from the coming disaster but unable to move. A thousand thoughts and emotions flooded in through that gaze, a glittering kaleidoscope of pain and fear and rage that spun far too fast for her to really absorb. The Emperor raised his hands, sending cascades of jagged blue-white lightning at his enemies. Both men staggered under the counterattack, and Mara watched with the sudden agonized hope that this time it might end differently. But no. Vader and Skywalker straightened; and with another roar of rage, they lifted their lightsabers high-
YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER!
And with a jerk that threw her against her restraints, Mara snapped out of the dream.
For a minute she just sat there, gasping for breath and struggling against the fading vision of lightsabers poised to strike. The small cockpit of the Skipray pressed tightly around her, triggering a momentary surge of claustrophobia. The back and neck of her flight suit were wet with perspiration, clammy against her skin. From what seemed to be a great distance, a proximity alert was pinging.
The dream again. The same dream that had followed her around the galaxy for five years now. The same situation; the same horrifying ending; the same final, desperate plea.
But this time, things were going to be different. This time, she had the power to kill Luke Skywalker.
She looked out at the mottling of hyperspace spinning around the Skipray's canopy, some last bit of her mind coming fully awake. No, that was wrong. She wasn't going to kill Skywalker at all. She was-
She was going to ask him for help.
The sour taste of bile rose into her throat; with an effort, she forced it down. No argument, she told herself sternly. If she wanted to rescue Karrde, she was going to have to go through with it.
Skywalker owed Karrde this much. Later, after he'd repaid the debt, there would be time enough to kill him.
The proximity alert changed tone, indicating thirty seconds to go. Cupping the hyperdrive levers in her hand, Mara watched the indicator go to zero and gently pushed the levers back. Mottling became starlines became the black of space. Space, and the dark sphere of a planet directly ahead.
She had arrived at Jomark.
Mentally crossing her fingers, she tapped the comm, keying the code she'd programmed in during the trip. Luck was with her: here, at least, Thrawn's people were still using standard Imperial guidance transponders. The Skipray's displays flashed the location, an island forming the center of a ring-shaped lake just past the sunset line. She triggered the transponder once more to be sure, then keyed in the sublight drive and started down. Trying to ignore that last image of the Emperor's face :
The wailing of the ship's alarm jerked her awake. "What?" she barked aloud to the empty cockpit, sleep sticky eyes flicking across the displays for the source of the trouble. It wasn't hard to find: the Skipray had rolled half over onto its side, its control surfaces screaming with stress as the computer fought to keep her from spinning out of the sky. Inexplicably, she was already deep inside the lower atmosphere, well past the point where she should have switched over to repulsorlifts.
Clenching her teeth, she made the switchover and then gave the scan map a quick look. She'd only been out of it for a minute or two, but at the speed the Skipray was doing even a few seconds of inattention could be fatal. She dug her knuckles hard into her eyes, fighting against the fatigue pulling at her and feeling sweat breaking out again on her forehead. Flying while half asleep, her old instructor had often warned her, was the quickest if messiest way to end your life. And if she had gone down there would have been no one to blame but herself.
Or would there?
She leveled the ship off confirmed that there were no mountains in her path, and keyed in the autopilot. The ysalamir and portable nutrient framework that Aves had given her were back near the aft hatchway, secured to the engine access panel. Unstrapping from her seat, Mara made her way back toward it-
It was as if someone had snapped on a light switch. One second she felt as if she had just finished a four-day battle; half a step later, a meter or so from the ysalamir, the fatigue abruptly vanished.
She smiled grimly to herself. So her suspicion had been correct: Thrawn's mad Jedi Master didn't want any company. "Nice try"' she called into the air. Unfastening the ysalamir frame from the access panel, she lugged it back to the cockpit and wedged it beside her seat.
The rim of mountains surrounding the lake was visible now on the electropulse scanner, and the infrared had picked up an inhabited structure on the far side. Probably where Skywalker and this mad Jedi Master were, she decided, a guess that was confirmed a moment later as the sensors picked up a small mass of spaceship-grade metal just outside the building. There were no weapons emplacements or defense shields anywhere that she could detect, either on the rim or on the island beneath her. Maybe C'baoth didn't think he needed anything so primitive as turbolasers to protect him.
Maybe he was right. Hunching herself over the control board, hair-trigger alert for any danger, Mara headed in.
She was nearly to the midpoint of the crater when the attack came, a sudden impact on the Skipray's underside that kicked the entire craft a few centimeters upward. The second impact came on the heels of the first, this one centered on the ventral fin and yawing the ship hard to starboard. The ship jolted a third time before Mara finally identified the weapon: not missiles or laser blasts, but small, fast-moving rocks, undetectable by most of the Skipray's sophisticated sensors.
The fourth impact knocked out the repulsorlifts, sending the Skipray falling out of the sky.
Chapter 21
Mara swore under her breath, throwing the Skipray's control surfaces into glide mode and keying for a contour scan of the cliff face beneath the rim building. A landing up on the rim was out of the question now; putting down on the limited area up there without her repulsorlifts might be possible, but not with a Jedi Master fighting her the whole way. alternately, she could go for the dark island beneath her, which would give her more room to operate but leave her with the problem of getting back up to the rim. Ditto if she tried to find a big enough landing area somewhere else down the mountains.
Or she could admit defeat, fire up the main drive and pull for space, and go after Karrde alone.
Gritting her teeth, she studied the contour scan. The rock storm had stopped after the fourth hit-the Jedi Master, no doubt, waiting to see if she'd crash without further encouragement on his part. With a little luck, maybe she could convince him that she was done for without actually wrecking the ship in the process. If she could just find the proper formation in that cliff face :
There it was, perhaps a third of the way down: a roughly hemispherical concavity where erosion had eaten away a layer of softer rock from the harder material surrounding it. The ledge that had been left beneath the indentation was relatively flat, and the whole thing was large enough to hold the Skipray comfortably.
Now all she had to do was get the ship there. Mentally crossing her fingers, she flipped the ship nose up and eased in the main sublight drive.
The glare of the drive trail lit up the near side of the rim mountains, throwing them into a dancing mosaic of light and shadow. The Skipray jerked up and forward, stabilized a little as Mara brought the nose a bit farther back off vertical. It threatened to overbalance, eased back as she tapped the control surfaces, twitched almost too far in the other direction, then steadied. Balancing on the drive like this was an inherently unstable operation, and Mara could feel the sweat breaking out on her forehead as she fought to keep the suddenly unwieldy craft under control. If C'baoth suspected what she was trying, it wouldn't take much effort on his part to finish her off.