Star Wars

  Jedi Quest

  Book 7

  The Moment of Truth

  by Jude Watson

  source: IRC

  uploaded: 09.I.2006

  CHAPTER ONE

  They hadn't spoken for many hours, not since they'd left the Core.

  Anakin Skywalker kept his eyes on the dashboard indicators, even though

  they were traveling in hyperspace and the ship was flying on the

  navcomputer. His Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, pored over star charts on a

  datascreen. Every so often he would raise a chart in magnified holo-mode

  and walk through it, studying the planets more closely.

  Anakin usually admired his Master's thoroughness, but today he felt

  irritated by it. Obi-Wan studied things. He made logical conclusions and

  plotted strategies. What did he know about leaps in intuition, dreams,

  risks, compulsions, knowing a step could mean disaster but taking it

  anyway? What did he know, Anakin thought bitterly, about guilt?

  A Jedi Master was dead, and Anakin had seen her die. Master Yaddle had

  hung above him in a night crowded with stars, held by the Force. She had

  saved a population by absorbing the destructive power of a bomb with her

  own body. She had become one with the Force. The great light had sent him

  crashing to his knees. He'd thought he would never be able to get up again.

  And he'd known that as soon as he could feel again, as soon as he could

  think, he would feel responsible for her death.

  Before that mission he had experienced a vision that had haunted him.

  The only thing about it that had been clear was that it involved Master

  Yaddle. During the mission he had thought he understood what the vision

  meant. Yet he had kept going forward, kept pushing. He had thought he could

  change fate at any moment. And because he had thought those things, Yaddle

  had made a great sacrifice - a sacrifice he should have made - and she had

  died for it.

  The Jedi had held a memorial service in the Great Hall of the Temple.

  Hundreds of Jedi had crowded the hall and the surrounding balconies and

  levels. The glowlights had been turned out abruptly. Tiny white lights were

  projected on the ceiling. Then, out of all the thousands of lights, one had

  gone out. Using the Force to direct them, each Jedi had turned and trained

  their eyes on that empty space. The memory of Yaddle had pulsed through the

  room. Anakin had felt the power of every mind and heart focused on one

  being. The absence of Yaddle grew until it filled the Great Hall.

  And it is my fault she is gone.

  The blank space had expanded in his mind until it had seemed enormous

  enough to swallow him. He could not turn away. He could not reveal his

  emotion to the Jedi who surrounded him. It took all of his discipline, all

  of his will, to remain with his eyes fixed on the spot. The grief had

  coiled around his chest like a great serpent, squeezing the air from his

  lungs.

  He couldn't forgive himself for the mistakes he had made. He didn't

  know how to get to a place where he could forgive himself.

  He still carried that feeling. He could not find a way to live with

  grief comfortably, as Obi-Wan could. Anakin remembered the days immediately

  following Qui-Gon's death. Anakin knew that Obi-Wan had been deeply

  affected by his Master's death, yet Obi-Wan had continued on the same

  steady path. How could he have felt so much, and yet not be changed?

  He doesn't feel things as I do.

  Was that it? Anakin wondered. Did he feel too much to be a Jedi? He

  hadn't yet managed to achieve the distance from the Living Force that other

  Jedi could maintain. How could he learn to shut out his feelings, to close

  a door against them and keep on going?

  Obi-Wan deactivated the maps he was studying and came to stand behind

  him.

  "We are coming up on the Uziel system," Obi-Wan said. "We might run

  into Vanqor patrols when we come out of hyperspace." He leaned forward. The

  instrument panel cast a green glow on his frown.

  "You look worried, Master," Anakin said.

  Obi-Wan straightened. "Not worried. Cautious." He paused. "Well, maybe

  worried, too. I think the Council should have sent more than one Jedi team

  on this mission. It's a sign of how thin we are stretched."

  Anakin nodded. It was a source of discussion among all the Jedi

  lately. Requests for peacekeeping missions were increasing, almost too many

  for the Jedi to handle.

  "Our best chance for success is slipping through undetected," Obi-Wan

  said. "We'll have to rely on your talent for evasive flying."

  "I'll do my best," Anakin said.

  "You always do," Obi-Wan replied.

  His Master's tone was light, but Anakin knew that he meant a great

  deal more than he'd said. It was one of several ways that his Master was

  trying to help him. Obi-Wan knew that Yaddle's death haunted Anakin. There

  had been a time, Anakin reflected, when Obi-Wan's kindness would have made

  everything better. Now he appreciated it, but it did not make a dent in his

  own guilt. Obi-Wan wanted to help him, but Anakin did not want his help.

  Anakin did not know why.

  Focus on the mission. It will get you through.

  He had been glad when Mace Windu had briefed them on this mission. He

  had wanted something difficult to lose himself in.

  The planet of Typha-Dor had pleaded for the Senate's help. They were

  the last holdout in the Uziel system against the aggressive invasions of

  the largest planet in the system, Vanqor.

  An army of resistance fighters from the other planets in the system

  had found refuge on Typha-Dor and formed a coalition force to protect the

  last free planet. So far Typha-Dor had managed to hold out against Vanqor's

  colonization efforts. Yet they knew invasion was imminent.

  One of the successful tools the Typha-Dor forces had used was a

  surveillance outpost on a remote moon. The outpost had been able to track

  the secret movements of the Vanqor fleet. Recently Typha-Dor had learned

  that Vanqor was targeting the surveillance outpost for attack. The outpost

  was in a remote area of the moon, hidden by heavy cloud cover. The land was

  packed with snow and ice for months, which also meant that it was almost

  impossible to get crews in and out.

  Reliable information had come to the Typha-Dors that the Vanqors were

  close to pinpointing the location. It was imperative the news get through

  to the crew to abandon the post. There hadn't been word from the crew in

  several weeks, and the fear was that the comm units were down, or the worst

  had happened and the post had already been attacked. Anakin and Obi-Wan had

  been sent to discover what was going on and, if they were still there, to

  bring the crew back safely.

  The ship eased out of hyperspace with barely a shudder. Instantly the

  surveillance equipment hummed to life.

  "Nothing to worry about," Anakin said, setting his next course.

&n
bsp; "Yet," Obi-Wan muttered.

  Anakin plotted a course that would keep him well away from space

  lanes. They traveled in watchful silence. The Typha-Dor moon, so obscure it

  hadn't been named, loomed. It was known by its coordinates - TY44. Anakin

  saw it on the radar and then received a visual sighting. He could not see

  the moon itself, only the atmosphere around it. The clouds offered no

  glimpse of the satellite's surface.

  "There it is."

  "Radar sighting," Obi-Wan said suddenly. "Looks like a large gunship."

  Without slowing his speed, Anakin reversed and dived. If they could

  get out of radar range, they might not get spotted. The Galan starfighter

  was small enough that it could be mistaken for space debris until the ship

  got closer.

  "Hasn't noticed us," Obi-Wan said. "I think we dodged this one."

  Anakin maintained speed, flying slightly erratically to mimic space

  debris.

  The gunship suddenly changed course.

  "He's got us," Obi-Wan said crisply. "Six quad laser cannons, three on

  each side. Two concussion missile launch tubes. Four... no, six turbolaser

  cannons."

  "In other words, we're a little outgunned," Anakin said.

  "I suggest evasion as our best course," Obi-Wan agreed dryly.

  Laser cannonfire exploded around them.

  "Missile on the left!" Obi-Wan shouted.

  "I see it!" Anakin streamed up, making a sharp turn to evade the

  tracking device. The missile hugged their path. At the last second, Anakin

  veered off, and the missile passed them by a few meters.

  "Close," Obi-Wan said. "They're speeding up. We can't outrun them,

  Anakin."

  "Just give me a chance."

  "Too risky. Just get us down. We'll land on the Typha Dor moon."

  "But we're far from the outpost," Anakin said.

  "We stand a better chance down there." Another missile screamed past.

  The small ship was tossed by the reverberations of cannonfire. "They'll

  send a landing ship, but we'll have a head start."

  The explosion was close. Anakin gripped the controls and gritted his

  teeth. His choice would be to keep flying, but he had to obey his Master.

  He felt the response of the ship as he changed course. It shuddered,

  as though it had sustained damage. He glanced at the indicator lights.

  Nothing blinked at him. There must be superficial damage on the wing. Not a

  problem for an experienced pilot.

  Anakin dipped the ship and dived into the heavy cloud cover below.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Obi-Wan glanced down at the surface as they dipped lower. He squinted

  against the glare. The thick clouds didn't diminish the effect. The ground

  was covered in snow and glaciers, and the light bounced and refracted,

  making it difficult to see. Anakin skimmed over the terrain, looking for a

  place to land.

  "We'll need to engage the sensors," Anakin said. "No telling how deep

  that snow is."

  Obi-Wan had already turned to the starship sensor array. "I'm getting

  a solid reading. The ice is meters thick. It will hold the ship." Obi-Wan

  read out the coordinates. "By the lip of that rock outcropping there. We're

  far enough away that we won't lead them to the outpost, but it will be a

  bit of a walk."

  Anakin guided the ship to a smooth landing. The cockpit hatch slid

  back. At first, the silence was overwhelming. The cold settled into the

  cockpit slowly. At first, Obi-Wan felt it on the tips of his ears. Then his

  fingers. Then the back of his neck. Soon every millimeter of exposed skin

  felt numb.

  "Cold," Anakin said.

  "That's an understatement," Obi-Wan said, vaulting over the seat

  toward the supply locker. He grabbed the survival gear and tossed a set to

  Anakin. Then he pulled out a white tarp. "If we secure this over the ship

  we might gain some time," he said. "At least they'll find it hard to get a

  visual sighting."

  After donning survival gear and goggles, they spent a few minutes

  securing the tarp over the ship and strapping it down.

  Anakin glanced at the sky. "How long do you think we have?"

  "Depends on how good they are at tracking," Obi-Wan said. "And how

  lucky we are. However much time we have, it has to be enough."

  They started out across the frozen landscape. Ice had formed in a thin

  layer on the ground, making walking treacherous. In their thick-soled

  boots, the Jedi had traction, but it took concentration to move quickly

  without sliding over the ice. Obi-Wan felt his leg muscles tense, and he

  knew they would be tired at the end of this journey. He only hoped that

  what lay at the end of it was a short rest, at least. There was no telling

  what they would find at the outpost.

  After a few minutes Obi-Wan grew used to the rhythm of their journey

  and the eerie sound of the wind ruffling the snow on top of the ice,

  creating a low whistle that dipped in and out of hearing. His mind slipped

  out of its focus on the mission. He brooded, as he often did these days, on

  the tall, silent boy at his side.

  When he had been Anakin's age, sixteen, the thought of the death of a

  Jedi Master had been inconceivable. He had been in tight spots with Qui-Gon

  - his Master had even been captured by a deranged scientist named Jenna Zan

  Arbor, who had imprisoned him in order to study the Force - but it had

  never occurred to him that Qui-Gon could be killed. He had assumed that a

  being so strong in the Force could cheat death.

  Now he knew better. He had seen Jedi Masters fall. He still remembered

  the horror he felt as he saw the life drain from Qui-Gon's eyes on Naboo.

  Recently the Jedi Order had lost another Master, Yarael Poof.

  The galaxy was a rougher, harder place. Lawlessness was growing. Obi-

  Wan knew now that the Jedi were far from invincible. That knowledge had

  made him more careful, perhaps a bit less willing to risk too much. Which

  could be good, and bad, depending. As he settled into his life as a Jedi

  Master, Obi-Wan was very aware that his need to control situations, to look

  at all sides of an issue, would conflict with the desires of his headstrong

  apprentice. He saw conflict ahead but he also saw himself unable to stop

  his movement toward it.

  Anakin was powerful. Anakin was young. These two facts could collide

  with the power and heat of a fusion furnace.

  Obi-Wan had gone over and over in his mind what had happened with

  Master Yaddle. He could not see any way that he could have prevented it.

  His Padawan had relied on his command of the Force and on his absolute

  conviction that he was taking the only possible path, and events had

  overtaken him. Obi-Wan had no doubt that Yaddle had seen her own death

  coming. She had decided it was necessary that she become one with the

  Force. She had done it to save countless lives, and she must have seen that

  Anakin's path was mapped out otherwise.

  Obi-Wan didn't know how much Anakin blamed himself, but he knew that

  his apprentice was brooding over what had gone wrong. It was appropriate

  that he do so, but not appropriate for him to blame himself.

  Yet how can I stop him from doing so, if I blame him myself?
br />
  Blame was not something a Jedi was supposed to feel. Obi-Wan knew he

  was wrong. He tried to look at what had happened in a measured way, but he

  kept circling back to the fact that in his heart, he believed that Anakin

  could have somehow prevented Yaddle's death.

  He told himself that if Anakin had made mistakes, they came from a

  place that was pure. It was not in the Jedi code to second-guess another

  Jedi's decisions. But Obi-Wan knew his words of comfort had a hollow core,

  and he suspected that Anakin knew it, too.

  The distance between them continued to grow. Yaddle's death had

  changed them both.

  No, Obi-Wan corrected himself. The distance had been growing before

  that. Perhaps it has always been there. Perhaps I didn't want to see it.

  Anakin's pure connection to the Force meant that in some ways Obi-Wan

  had little to teach him. At least it seemed that Anakin was beginning to

  think that. Yet Obi‑Wan knew he still had so much to give him. Being a Jedi

  involved more than commanding the Force - it involved the inner serenity

  needed to access that Force in the best way. Yaddle's death had shaken Obi-

  Wan to the core. Was it possible that Anakin had too much power?

  Obi-Wan would not give up on Anakin. It was his duty as a Master to

  teach his apprentice, to help him become a Jedi Knight. All he knew was