“You’d like her if you’d spend more time around her.”
“Don’t do it, Wedge, don’t do it.”
He glanced over at me, letting a sloppy grin tug at one corner of his mouth. “Why not? Wouldn’t this be a final reconciliation of the Rebels and the Imperials?”
“Wedge, I’m speaking from experience.” I sagged forward against the chair-back. “When I was with CorSec I had several assignments where I was to see to the personal safety of someone important. In fact, I once had to deal with your sister on a visit to Corellia. Didn’t know she was your sister at the time, however.”
“If you’re going to tell me you fell for my sister while guarding her, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Nope, not her. It was the daughter of the shipping magnate who owned Tinta Lines. She was the target of a kidnapper. Of course, when I was guarding someone, we found a hole and crawled in, didn’t gallivant around the galaxy.”
“Moving target is harder to hit.”
“Good point.” I smiled. “Anyway, Siolle Tinta and I got along famously once we discovered we shared similar opinions about art. In close quarters, we reinforced each other’s ideas and it quickly became us against the world. On the outside, Iella nailed the kidnapper, so we only spent three days together, but if you’d asked me at the end of that time if it was love and lasers for life, I would have told you all systems were go.”
“What happened?”
“While we had one thing in common, we had all sorts of things that weren’t. I was with CorSec, which meant I couldn’t take off and hit a spa on Selonia, or travel to Imperial Center for the opening of an art exhibit in the Galactic Museum. The gulf between us proved insurmountable. We parted friends, but we both knew that what we’d had while together was a supernova that was collapsing in on itself. We might have generated a lot of heat and light, but eventually the black hole would have torn us apart.”
Wedge nodded, but stared past me. “You’ll allow me to plot my own course through this?”
“I can’t stop you.”
“But I thought you Jedi could easily influence weak minds.”
I laughed lightly along with him. “This Jedi knows better than to think of your mind as weak, and I’ve no desire to go mucking about without good reason. You’re a big boy. If it works, great. If it doesn’t, you’ve got friends. I imagine my wife would give you an earful on this.”
“Yeah, and Mirax can be a mite more persuasive than you can.” He tipped his chair forward onto all four feet. “No word yet from Han and any of his contacts about Mirax. Sorry.”
I sighed heavily. “I didn’t expect he would have much to say, given that he’s been on Kessel recently. Booster’s not been talking to you?”
“I’ve been hard to find, but I’ve had no messages.”
“Best to let sleeping Hutts snore.” I felt anger gathering, but I dissipated it with a quick calming breath. “You’ll let me know if you do hear anything, right?”
“As soon as I do get word, you’ll know.” Wedge smiled solemnly. “It’s the least I can do for a friend.”
Wedge and Xux left in the evening and I felt sorry to see them go. The one truly difficult aspect of the Jedi academy for me was isolation from news of the outside world. Han Solo’s adventure on Kessel and the theft of the Sun Crusher had been presented to us as asides—sidebars to lessons Master Skywalker taught us. More information came out now that Kyp Durron was with us as a student, but even that was tantalizingly spare.
Even more spare was any word on the Invids.
Kyp’s presence seemed to put a spark back into Master Skywalker—the spark that had been diminished since Gantoris’ death. Kyp proved almost immediately to be the greatest of the apprentices gathered here. With only a minimum of training, he blasted on past all of us in terms of what he could do. Supporting himself on one hand only, he could balance rocks and fallen tree boles with ease. Given my lack of ability in that area, I found his skills somewhat intimidating.
Master Skywalker found Kyp’s abilities all but mesmerizing and devoted a lot of time to directing his studies. I guess that made sense in a variety of ways. I suspected that Luke saw a lot of himself in Kyp. They both came from brutal worlds—Tatooine and Kessel respectively. Kyp had received initial instruction from the fallen Jedi female Vima-Da-Boda much as Obi-Wan had taught Luke. Kyp had also proved adept at piloting a ship and had saved Han Solo’s life—a positive endorsement, to be sure. Lastly, Kyp’s power dwarfed that of Gantoris, making him the perfect candidate to eclipse the memory of the academy’s first failure.
Of course, no one stated that directly, nor did we think of Gantoris in that way. Gantoris’ remains had been interred in the midst of a beautiful grove, and Master Skywalker himself had driven a grey plinth into the ground to mark the spot. We knew it was the sort of paradisiacal place Gantoris would have wanted for himself and his people. Several of us noted that we wouldn’t mind being buried there when we fell, but none of us hoped that would be soon. Still, the spectre of Gantoris’ failure haunted us all to a greater or lesser extent.
Luke turned much of the instruction of the other apprentices over to Kam Solusar, and Kam did a good job. As a taskmaster he was fair but firm, and everyone progressed steadily under his guidance. Luke made good use of Tionne’s research to instill us with a sense of community and continuity. We began to think of the Imperium as Jedi Twilight, and we were the dawning of a new day of a new era.
Luke did allow Kam to start training me in lightsaber combat. I used my grandfather’s lightsaber and relished its cool, smooth weight in my hand. I could feel the antiquity in the weapon and almost feel Nejaa Halcyon’s hands pressed there with mine. I think that sensation broke the final wall for me, allowing me to accept my position in the grand tradition of the Jedi. If I could feel my grandfather’s essence in the weapon he had wielded, then I felt the weight of his responsibilities on me as well.
We began with remote training. I had a nodding acquaintance with the little floating balls that could sting you with a quick needle of blazing energy. At the CorSec Academy remotes played a part in blaster training. A blaster set on stun could knock a remote out, so trainees used them as targets. In my time at the academy I became very good orienting on movement and nailing a remote with a blue bolt.
“The object of the exercise here, Keiran, is not to kill the remote, but to defend yourself from its shots.” Kam let one of the small balls hover over his outstretched palm. “Use your lightsaber to block the stingshots. Once you can do this with one remote, we’ll work with more. And once you can defend yourself against a handful, we will work on redirecting the bolts at various targets.”
I gave Kam a smile. “It’s a goal.”
Kam released the remote and I ignited my lightsaber. The silvery blade splashed cold light over the interior of what had been the Rebel hangar in the Great Temple. We chose to work inside instead of out because the Temple’s walls would stop the remote’s bolts. While they wouldn’t do more than wound my vanity, a stray shot could stun a woolamander and probably kill a stintaril. Since I was as much of a danger to myself with the lightsaber as anything else, doing everything possible to avoid collateral damage was a good idea.
The remote hissed and puffed as it floated through the air. It spun, then spat out a quick ruby dart that lanced into my thigh. I cursed and hopped back, but the remote came in, pressing the attack. I set myself and willed away the pain, then worked on picking up the remote and its next blast.
While the remote, being lifeless, did not have a direct connection to the Force, it existed within the universe bound together by the Force. I made myself disfocus my attention on it directly and instead gain an impression of where it fit within the immediate area. I opened myself to the Force, allowing it to seep in and extend my sensory perception. Then, there, I saw the remote moving through the Force, leaving little oscillations in it like a moth moving through smoke. By spotting the disturbances it created, I was able to pick i
t up and track it.
Likewise, within it, the transference of energy created even smaller vibrations within the Force. I sensed the microtremors of energy gathering to fire a stinger. I pinpointed where that reservoir of energy existed and began to bring my lightsaber up and around. As the stinger diode spat scarlet fire, I swept my lightsaber in an arc that picked off the dart heading for my stomach. A nano-second later I caught hints of another bolt, but missed blocking it.
The dart pinned my left foot to the floor. I yelped—and Kam’s laughter did not help ease the pain—and danced back. My retreat bumped me into a pillar I’d not expected to be there, rebounding me back toward the remote. It fired again, but the lunge I took at it got enough blade in front of me to deflect the bolt back off over my right shoulder.
And right past Kam’s right ear.
He arched an eyebrow at me and hit a button on his remote controller, powering the unit down. “Did you manage that on purpose?”
I dropped to one knee and rubbed my foot. “I’d love to claim credit, but I’m not the Force genius that Kyp is.”
“That’s readily apparent.” Kam came over and plucked the remote from the air. “Think back for a second. You didn’t know where the pillar was. Had you extended your senses enough to know where I was?”
I frowned and tried to recall. “Nope. I think my sensory range was about two meters, and you were outside it. So was the pillar until I jumped back.”
“And when you were hurt you probably pulled the sphere in even tighter.” He opened a panel on the remote and twisted a small dial. “I’m going to move it out to four meters. You need to be able to push your sphere out larger and larger, and track the things inside it. If you don’t know where you are and what you’re doing, you’re in deep trouble.”
“Got it. Pilots refer to it as ‘situational awareness.’ If you can’t track your own people and the enemy in a vape-brawl, you end up doing a burn-in on some world.”
“That’s it exactly. My father used to refer to it as a sphere of responsibility. He used to tell me that as Jedi our sphere of responsibility was as big as the galaxy, and the best Jedi could understand and sort out whole star systems. I’d not actually felt that until the other night, in the grotto.”
I nodded. “I copy. As a pilot I tended to be pretty good in the situational awareness area, but using the Force is like trying to learn to see after having been blind for most of my life.”
“Not easy, but you can do it.” Kam slapped me on the shoulder. “And don’t let Kyp’s progress bother you.”
“Bother me?” I gave him an annoyed stare. “Kyp’s progress doesn’t bother me. It really has no effect on me.”
“Really.” Kam’s eyes narrowed and sank back into shadows. “You’re not a bit envious of the attention he is getting from Master Skywalker?”
I hesitated for a moment and let the question roam around in my brain. I shook my head. “I know I’m competitive, and I would have thought you’d be right, but I don’t see Kyp as someone I’m competing with. I’ve been second best before. That’s a role I can accept. I make it my mission to make sure the front runner can’t relax, but I’m more concerned with doing my best than I am with beating someone else’s best.”
Kam’s expression lightened considerably. “That shows a fair amount of maturity.”
“Kinda scary, isn’t it?”
“Not in a Jedi Knight.” Kam tossed the remote into the air and it withdrew to a range of four meters. “Go again, Keiran Halcyon. Concentrate. Show me your best.”
SEVENTEEN
Of course, my best was nothing compared to Kyp Durron’s best. Kyp’s growth in the Force was nothing shy of incredible. In just over a week he surpassed anything the rest of us were doing by light-years. Master Skywalker didn’t know what to do with him, he was so good. Kyp gave us hope that reestablishing the Jedi Order could be and would be done.
I tried to get to know Kyp, but he kept himself aloof and apart from me. He made other friends among us. Dorsk 81, the yellow-fleshed clone from Khomm, had been closer to Gantoris than most, and Kyp’s friendship filled a void in his life. They spent a fair amount of time together, heading off into the surrounding jungle as a survey team all by themselves.
Kyp had grown up in the spice mines of Kessel and was very strong in the Force. Growing up in prison made him hold himself very close, and he didn’t take to prying into his life. My attempts to open him up just drove him away from me, so I backed off. I didn’t want to do anything that would make getting to know him impossible later.
And it wasn’t as if I didn’t have other things to do.
Gantoris had been dead for over two weeks, and I was really no closer to finding out who or what had killed him than when the smoke was still curling up off his body. I still felt we had a sociopathic killer on Yavin 4, but no one had found any clues of someone lurking here. We had Gantoris’ body, but his killer had vanished without a trace.
The Holocron was not much more help in solving the murder, but it did give us some planetary history to work from. Yavin 4, it turned out, had been the seat of power of a formidable Dark Lord of the Sith, a fallen Jedi known as Exar Kun. He had been seduced to the dark side when he studied the ways of the Sith and incorporated their magics into his manipulation of the Force. He had come to Yavin 4 and had enslaved the Massassi people. He used them to create all the temples on the world to help focus his power. Only when the Jedi of the Old Republic came after him in what became known as the Sith War was he defeated and his evil expunged from the galaxy for all time.
Luke’s admonition about the dark side when he saw Gantoris’ body made me wonder if, somehow, Gantoris had managed to dig up, decipher and study some Sith artifacts or manuals. Somewhere he had learned to make a lightsaber. I didn’t want to think one of the Emperor’s Dark Jedi had managed to slip onto Yavin 4 and was tutoring students. Figuring that Gantoris had gotten himself in trouble was a more pleasant alternative theory.
Unfortunately for my peace of mind, the idea of Gantoris’ body being a taunt and a challenge fit all too well patterns I had seen before. My father had always told me to follow my gut. He’d really been encouraging my reliance in the Force, so I started with the assumption that an active intelligence had instructed Gantoris and then killed him.
The problem with that assumption remained the same as it had always been: if such a person existed, Master Skywalker should have detected him. A droid doing the teaching would explain why we didn’t detect him in the network of life on Yavin 4. A droid might even have the knowledge to teach Gantoris, but since it could not manipulate the Force, the lessons learned would be relatively useless.
Off the other edge of the scale we had the possibility of someone so powerful in the Force that he could remain undetected even by a Master. Gantoris’ “dark man” and the person in Master Luke’s nightmare could fit that profile. Putting Exar Kun at the top of the list of suspects was easy. He’d certainly not have balked at roasting Gantoris alive, but he’d been dead for four thousand years. Master Luke had alluded to the idea that he had seen and spoken with Obi-Wan Kenobi after the Jedi Master had been killed, but within a decade after his death, Obi-Wan had gone away forever. A Dark Lord of the Sith might have more staying power than that, but four millennia?
In addition to working with Tionne to uncover more data about the Jedi, I got to spend more time with Kam learning how to use a lightsaber. We managed to expand my sphere of responsibility up to sixteen meters for fine control, which meant I could pretty much own a city block. If I focused in one direction I was good up to two hundred fifty meters for fine control on picking off blaster bolts, or line of sight for sensing presence. In one experiment, I implanted a vision of dinner being served in Dorsk 81’s mind, summoning him and Kyp back from one of their hikes though they were still half a kilometer away.
I tried to get into Kyp’s mind on that occasion, but I didn’t know him well enough to break through. That confirmed one of my theories abou
t who I could and could not influence. The better I knew someone, the more receptive they seemed to be to my projections. If they were hostile or unknown to me and/or the image was terribly complex, I had a lot of trouble making them see anything.
After a particularly grueling day I ended up lounging around with the rest of the students in the early evening. We’d spent half the day listening to one of the auxiliary Holocron gatekeepers spin stories of court intrigues in the Old Republic—intrigues that must have been fascinating when you knew who he was talking about, but the gatekeeper’s stunning inability to characterize anyone meant that I lost track of what was going on almost immediately. After that another gatekeeper told the story of how Yoda had become a Jedi. That story was actually pretty good and undoubtedly saved my life because a minute more of the Old Republic stories and I’d have slipped into a coma. After that I went out on a ten-kilometer run just to convince myself I was, in fact, alive.
The academy personnel had all gathered in one of the larger seminar rooms on the second level to listen to Tionne’s latest ballad. I knew she had drawn it from material we had researched together, but she promised it was not a Halcyon ballad, so I was willing to come listen. Actually, I’d have come listen even if she were singing about Old Republic court intrigues because when her voice filled a room, there was no question about it: you were very much alive.
She accompanied herself on a unique instrument that had two resonating boxes mounted on a shaft. Strings ran over the boxes, allowing her to pluck or strum them. The arrangement almost made the instrument sound like two separate instruments, and her skill with it brought it close to being orchestral. Most of her ballads, like the new one, the ballad of Nomi Sunrider, had a stately lyrical theme running beneath them. Occasionally Tionne would also break into a slightly more raucous tune that usually got me to hum along.