Star Wars - I, Jedi Part 13

! 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 friends.h.i.+p filled a void in his life. They spent a fair amount of time together, heading off into the sur-rounding 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 him-self 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 get-ting 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 mur-der, 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 Mas-sa.s.si 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 man-aged 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 a.s.sumption that an active intelligence had instructed Gantoris and then killed him.

The problem with that a.s.sumption remained the same as it has 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 Ken.o.bi 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 direc-tion 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 about 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 gate-keepers 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 Sun-rider, 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.

Nomi Sunrider's ballad came from the era of Exar Kun and the Sith War.

She was a woman whose husband had been slain, so she took his place in a Jedi training cadre. She went on to become an acclaimed Jedi who played a key role in the Sith War. Singing about her might have been considered sacrilege in the Great Temple of Yavin 4, but I didn't think anyone would protest the fact after four thousand years. I was wrong.

Halfway through the song, Kyp got up from the floor, his face contorted with disgust. "I wish you wouldn't perpetuate that ridiculous story. Nomi Sunrider was a victim. She fought in the Sith War without ever knowing what the battles were about. She listened blindly to her Jedi Masters, who were afraid because Exar Kun had discovered a way for the Jedi to expand their power."

Tionne set her instrument down, surprised and a little hurt. She asked Kyp why he hadn't helped her reconstruct that legend if he had special information like that. Luke asked him where he'd learned what he'd just said, but that question had already answered itself in my gut: Exar Kun.

I'd been there with Tionne as we listened to Bodo Baas talk about the Sith War. Kyp's take on it was decidedly pro-Exar Kun and, as nearly as we had been able to discover, there were no minority opinions. All the subject available from the Holocron.

I came out of my reverie as Kyp's blazing gaze brushed past my own. "But they wouldn't all have been slaughtered. The Jedi would never have fallen, and we wouldn't be here, taught by someone who doesn't know any more than we do."

Luke again asked Kyp where he had learned his history. The young man hesitated for a moment, then mumbled something about having used the Holocron. I shot Tionne a glance and she frowned. Between the lessons we'd all learned from it and the work she was doing with it, unless Kyp was an insomniac, he really didn't have time to study it.

Before I could call him on that lie, Master Skywalker's R2 unit rolled into the room and whistled at him. I caught a bit of the code for "incoming," and stretched out with my senses. Even before Luke announced to us that we had a visitor, I caught a sense of a powerful Force presence descending toward the moon. By the time we left the Great Temple, a Z-95 Head-hunter was setting down on the landing grid.

The pilot emerged wearing a silvery, form-fitting flightsuit. She removed her helmet and shook out red-gold hair. Even in the twilight, I noticed the green of her eyes-lighter and more striking than mine. She looked quite beautiful, though the smile she gave Master Skywalker seemed to rest uncomfortably on her lips.

"Mara Jade," Luke greeted her.

I missed her reply as the uneasiness I felt over Kyp suddenly became compounded. Iella had told me about this Mara Jade. She had been groomed by the Emperor to be an agent who was adept in use of the Force. Her very existence had been unknown to all but a handful of Imperials, and she would have remained hidden save for her role in defeating Grand Admiral Thrawn. Details on that were all very sketchy, but I'd been left with the impression that she was very competent, very lethal and not that positively disposed toward Jedi.

Despite that, she pulled from a pouch at her side a Jedi cloak. Luke smiled as he turned and presented her to us. "This is Mara Jade. She has come here to learn the ways of the Jedi."

Everyone applauded her-even Kyp, though he remained sullen. Luke apparently noticed that as easily as I did because he waved me over.

"Keiran, will you please see to Mara's billeting? I have something to which I want to attend, if you don't mind, Mara."

She gave him a quick nod, then turned and regarded me up and down. "Have we met before?"

I knew we had not, but I still found something disturbingly familiar about her. "No, I don't think so."

"Odd, I usually don't forget a face."

"And I think I would remember you." I waved her toward the Great Temple.

"We have a variety of rooms ready. Master Skywalker's chambers are on the third level. Likewise some of the students. Most visitors are housed on the second level."

I felt tendrils of the Force snake out from her and probe the fringes of my mind. "But that's not where you live."

I concentrated for a nanosecond and shut her out of my mind. "No. I was attracted to the old pilot billets on the ground floor."

Mara Jade smiled and I found it all too predatory for me.

"Then I'll look there first for a place to stay. If you don't mind."

"Mine is not to mind, but to obey the wishes of my Master."

She clapped her hands mockingly. "Oh, very good. Spoken like an obsequious Imperial courtier."

I gave her a quick smile as we entered the Great Temple.

"Glad to make you feel at home."

That remark brought her head up. "The Empire's dead."

"But not all loyalties to it."

She stopped in the middle of the hangar floor and I noticed her s.p.a.cesuit had s.h.i.+fted to darker, flatter colors to blend in with the surroundings.

"You said we'd not met, but you clearly have a problem with me. Shall we settle it now?" The narrowed stare she gave me was pure fire and won a smile from me.

I was just about to rise to her challenge and let her have a catalog of hideous things the Empire had done, beginning with the death of the Jedi Knights and working on up to GantorN' murder, when sense kicked back in.

Here I was, standing in the middle of the place from which a desperate strike at the Empire had been launched. It had succeeded. I had been part of subsequent attacks against the Empire, attacks that brought it to its knees and took away its capital world: Coruscant. I had helped destroy the Empire that had been her home, and there was no reason why she shouldn't long for things from her past as much as I did.

I drew in a deep breath, held it, then slowly exhaled it.

'Please, forgive my being rude. It is very easy, when things are not going as planned, to trace the fault back to the Empire. You are not the Empire. To accuse you of loyalties or sympathies is unfair and probably stupid. Not the first time I've been either, but I try not to do both with people I've just met."

I extended my hand to her. "I am Cotran Horn." My true name almost caught in my throat, but offering it to her came as a sign of trust. Luke clearly trusted her and my gut told me I should do the same.

Mara Jade shook my hand and looked me over again. "I've heard of you. I apologize for the probe. I knew you were familiar. but the name 'Keiran'

didn't fit. I didn't know why. Since I sensed no deception from Luke-Master Skywalker-I wondered if he knew you were here under a lie."

"He suggested it." I smiled. "In many ways I think he thinks of me as Keiran Halcyon. Seems Keiran Halcyon was an ancestor of mine and a Jedi of some note in the Corellian system."

"I see."

The smile on her face slowly died and I sensed her closing toward me. I didn't know why and was fairly certain I could have tried to probe her for eons without getting so much as a sign of life from her. Part of me wanted to once again become very suspicious, but I kept that side of myself at bay. I had decided to trust her, so I trusted her. That might have seemed stupid, but it felt very right.

"Master Skywalker felt I should attend the academy under this alias so I wouldn't distract the students."

"And there were other reasons you didn't want to attract attention?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"Your father-in-law is Booster Terrik." Mara Jade let the barest shadow of a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. "That's reason enough for anyone to go into hiding. I don't seem to recall having heard anything of Mirax for six weeks or so. You've been here, what, a month?"

"And you wonder if I murdered her and have come here to hide?"

"No." Mara's words came cold and solemn. "I wondered if someone else murdered her and you're here learning how to find them."

Her hitting so close to the mark sent a jolt through me. "How is it that you know how long ago anyone heard about my wife?"

She shrugged easily as we pa.s.sed into the back corridor lead-ing to the old pilots' quarters. "She's very good at what she does, you know. As a smuggler, she's easily in the ninety-fifth percentile in finding exotic goods and finding buyers for them. Talon Karrde still talks about the Sith lanvarok she enabled him to unload. When someone like her drops out for more than a couple of weeks, either they're up to something big, or they're dead."

I flicked on the glowlamps in a small room. "This room belonged to a female Rebel pilot. She died before the Death Star battle."

Mara took a quick look around the room, then nodded. "It'll suit me. So, what happened to Mirax?"

"She's alive, but that's all I know." I leaned against the door jamb.

"Master Skywalker and Wedge think she was kidnapped for reasons unknown.

They think someone has her in hibernation. She's out there, somewhere, waiting."

The fire-haired woman folded her arms across her chest.

"And you're here learning what you can so you can find her."

"Find her and save her."

Mara nodded. "Lucky woman."

"I hope so." I let my voice descend into a growl. "If she's not, if I arrive too late; her captors are going to find all the luck in the galaxy won't do them any good."

" I>think Master Skywalker planned on or hoped for something a bit festive in the way of a meal for our guest. This meant I got tagged with kitchen duty. While I didn't really have any formal training in the culinary arts-and the Holocron had not revealed any Jedi power oriented toward making food taste good-I had been raised on Corellia and had seen a fair amount of the galaxy. Luke reasoned that I knew more about interesting food than a Bespin hermit or Dorsk 81--especially because the clone's digestive svstem was so specialized he could only eat processed food wafers.

Ugh.

Luckily for me, I'd learned all I needed to know about cooking from the chef on Siolle Tinta's private yacht. During a party with which I had become bored I met Chid-like all great artists, he a.s.serted he only needed one name-and we chatted about the self-important guests on the cruise. We also drank, and after a lot of chatting and even more drinking, Chid con-fided in me the keys of great culinary success.

"First, make portions small. If they want more, they think it was good.

Two, give the dish an exotic name and make it sound like there are secret spices in there. Sn.o.bs will spend much time trying to see if their palate is sophisticated enough to detect one part per million of Ithorian saffron and they won't dare pa.s.s judgment on the food for fear someone will think them a boor. Three, serve things that are supposed to be cooked, raw, and serve hot things cold. Makes them think it's special.

Four-most important-tell them you created it special for them. Only a Gamorrean would protest such an honor."

The academy's supplies weren't really long on spices-calling them survival rations would actually be stretching a point-but mas.h.i.+ng up ration bars, mixing them with fruit compotes and baking them into long slender loaves that I sliced on a bias made for an interesting breadlike food. Dried meat became something of a stew with enough boiling, and tossing the dried veggies into the meat broth allowed them to soak up some flavor. And since we'd all gotten to realizing that the grain gruel the New Republic sent probably wouldn't kill us, I concentrated on spicing it, and garnished a big plate of it with a couple blueleaf sprigs that made the yellowish mound of grain look special for the occasion. I also included the obligatory salad of local greens, but only because Master Skywalker seemed to enjoy it.

I'd just finished serving everything and was returning from the kitchen after shutting down the stove, when Kyp stormed out of the dining room and clipped me with a shoulder. "Hey, Kyp, what's the problem?"

The younger man said nothing and continued to stalk down the corridor. I ran after him and caught up with him after a couple of steps. I dropped my left hand on his left shoulder. "Kyp, answer me."

Kyp whirled beneath my hand, his dark eyes blazing. I felt something solid hit my chest, but I'd already begun to move to my right. The Force blow he aimed at me glanced off the left side of my chest, yet was strong enough to bounce me off the corridor wall. I caught myself against the rough stones, but not before I'd slid halfway to the floor.

"You are not my master." Kyp s.h.i.+fted from pointing at me to pointing back toward the dining room. "He is not my master. What good is it being a Jedi if we do not act?"

"What good is it if we are Jedi that don't act responsibly?" I hauled myself upright. "Remember, Kyp, 'no-good Jedi' kicked Exar Kun's b.u.t.t."

Kyp struck at me again through the Force, but I expected it this time. I relaxed and let the Force energy flow over and through me. I absorbed enough of it to let me create a s.h.i.+eld that split the attack. The fact that I didn't end up being ground back against the wall surprised him.

"You're good, Kyp, but you're not great." I held my hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "You're involved with someone who lost a long time ago. Don't compound his error."

"And who will stop me?"

I hesitated because Kyp's words seemed to echo within themselves. It took me a second or two to figure out that the echo wasn't a purely auditory phenomenon. I was hearing Kyp's voice through my ears, but the undertones were coming to me through the Force. We were not alone, which meant Kyp's mentor had come to aid his apprentice.

"I will, if you make it necessary."

An ancient sneer of contempt twisted Kyp's features. "Puny Jedi, you are of no concern to me."

Even though I braced myself for another attack, it did no good. Kyp's previous Force blows were like light breezes compared with a full-out gale. I slammed back into the wall with a teeth-rattling impact. As my body absorbed Force energy and fed it back out, the s.h.i.+eld I'd created grew in size. More importantly, my surprise and survival instinct opened me up to the Force and allowed it to flow into the s.h.i.+eld. Even so, Kyp's attack jammed the s.h.i.+eld back against the wall and I watched stone crumble beneath its rim.

The safe area I had began to shrink, and my chest became tight as it compressed my ribs. I looked Kyp straight in the eyes and tried to shoot into his brain the image of the mask of hate he wore, but the world around me went black before I could tell if I'd had any success at all.

I awakened probably less than a minute after that, judging by how much of the grain gruel had been consumed in my absence. I hung in the doorway to the dining room, my ribs a bit sore. Streen got up from his place and helped me to a chair while Tionne poured me a gla.s.s of water.

I drank it, wis.h.i.+ng it was full of Corellian whiskey.

Luke's blue eyes became slits. "What happened to you?"

"Kyp didn't like the menu." I winced as a twinge ran through my ribs. "We had a discussion in the hallway. You didn't feel anything?"