Young Jedi Knights_ Jedi Under Siege Part 5

But you must come alone."

"Will you?" Luke asked.

Brakiss gave a rich chuckle. "Of course. I have no need for reinforcements-and I know you are true to your word." Luke paused to rea.s.sure himself that the Force was indeed guiding his actions. Both he and Brakiss were strong enough in the Force to sense any betrayal by the other.

"Very well, Brakiss. I'll meet you there.

"Alone. We can settle this once and for all."

"HEY, THAT WASN'T so hard," Jacen said, leaning forward in the copilot's chair of the Lightning Rod. The chair creaked, its padding bulging out through countless small rips and tears in the cus.h.i.+on. The engines rumbled and coughed and whined as the cargo shuttle finally broke free of the atmosphere.

"You had to say that, didn't you, boy?"

Peckhum said as sensor alarms squealed on his control panel. Incoming enemy s.h.i.+ps.

Again. "We got TIE fighters coming, four of 'em. Looks like they were launched directly from the Shadow Academy."

Jacen swallowed, studying the pattern, and shook his head. "Oh, blaster bolts! We'd better transmit our distress message now before they get us.

Otherwise help for the Jedi academy will come too late."

Peckhum looked over at him, his eyes red-rimmed, his haggard face serious.

"Youll have to take care of that message yourself, Jacen. I'm gonna be mighty busy doing some fancy flying here-if she'll hold together." He patted the c.o.c.kpit controls.

"Sorry to do this to you, girl, but I didn't name you the Lightning Rod for nothing.

Let's show these Imperials our stuff."

Jacen fumbled with the unfamiliar comm system, tuning frequencies and feeling completely inadequate. He wished his sister were here-she was the expert on these systems. She would know how to cut through the double-talk, the chatter, the Imperial transmission block.

He sent a subs.p.a.ce message blaring on all frequencies at the maximum levels of volume and power the Lightning Rod could spare and still keep her s.h.i.+elds up.

"This is Jacen Solo," he said, then cleared his throat. He had no idea what to say, but he supposed the details didn't exactly matter.

"Attention, New Republic. We have an emergency! This is Jacen Solo on Yavin 4, requesting immediate a.s.sistance. We are under attack by the Shadow Academy!

"Repeat. Imperial fighters attacking the Jedi academy-request a.s.sistance immediately. Our s.h.i.+elds are down. We've got ground battles taking place and air strikes from TIE fighters. We desperately need immediate a.s.sistance." He switched off the microphone, then looked over at Peckhum.

"Hey, howd I do?"

"Just fine, kid," Peckhum said, and lurched the s.h.i.+p to one side, going into a clockwise spin as the four TIE fighters roared past, belching fire from laser cannons. One shot struck the Lightning Rod's lower s.h.i.+eld, but the other bolts streamed harmlessly into s.p.a.ce, intersecting the empty void where the cargo s.h.i.+p had been only a moment before.

"I used to be a pretty good flier in my day," Peckhum said. "And I still am... I think."

One TIE fighter broke away from the other three and spun in a tighter circle, firing repeatedly without taking the trouble to aim, spraying s.p.a.ce with its deadly fire.

Peckhum dove down, skimming the atmosphere, so that the lower hull of the Lightning Rod grew hot. Then he bounced back into s.p.a.ce again, turning about in a tight backward loop and heading up over the determined TIE fighter, which shot again and again. Sparks flew from the battered supply s.h.i.+p's control panels. Lights winked red on their system diagnostics.

"Uh, Peckhum? What do all those alarms mean?" Jacen said.

"It means our s.h.i.+elds are failing."

"Don't you have any weapons on this s.h.i.+p?"

Jacen scanned the panels, looking for any sort of targeting system, some firing controls.

Peckhum coughed and put the s.h.i.+p into a sharp dive toward Yavin 4. "This is a cargo s.h.i.+p, boy, and she's seen better days. I wasn't expecting to take her into battle you know. Heck, I'm lucky the food-prep units still work." The rest of the Imperial squadron zoomed away to continue the attack on the Jedi academy, but the one persistent TIE fighter came in again single-mindedly. This time he had them locked on target, so that most of his laser cannon blasts struck the Lightning Rod.

"This guy really wants to take us out," Jacen said.

Peckhum pushed his accelerators well beyond maximum safety levels. The Lightning Rod groaned and creaked as it rattled down through the atmosphere, buffeted by air turbulence.

Jacen was thrown from side to side. He grabbed the comm system again.

'This is Jacen Solo with a personal distress this time.

" We are in deep trouble. Someone is on our tail. Request a.s.sistance.

Please-can anyone out there help us?"

Peckhum looked over at him. "n.o.body's going to get here in time."

Jacen remembered stories of how Luke Skywalker had been in a similar situation on the run down the Death Star trench, trying to send his proton torpedo through a small thermal exhaust port. His X-wing had been in Darth Vader's sights, unable to shake the TIE fighters and interceptors on his tail. Things had looked hopeless-and then Jacens father, Han Solo, had appeared out of nowhere, saving the day.

But Jacen didn't think his father was anywhere close by now, and he couldn't imagine anyone else who might pop unexpectedly out of the skies to take care of the enemy. That was too much luck to hope for.

With a crackle of static over the conun system, a gruff and gloating voice spoke-but it wasn't any rescuer. "Well... Jacen Solo! You're one of those feisty Jedi brats we ran into down in the lower levels of Coruscant. Remember me-Norys? I was the leader of the Lost Ones gang. You stole that hawk-bat egg from us and now I think we're about to even all the old scores. Hah!"

Jacen felt a s.h.i.+ver go down his spine as he remembered the broad-shouldered bully who had such an appet.i.te for destruction. Norys continued.

"The little trash collector, Zekk, joined us in the Second Imperium, but you have made the wrong choice, boy. I just wanted you to know who was going to blast you to slag."

The TIE pilot signed off and continued the conversation with a volley of laser bolts.

"Well, I'm glad he picked such a fine time to contact us," Peckhum said, fighting with the controls, unable to fly an evasive pattern anymore. He worked with all his talent just to keep the Lightning Rod from falling apart in the sky. 'I don't think well last much longer, and I'm sure that Norys kid would have hated to blow us up before he got a chance to say his little goodbye."

The engines of the Lightning Rod began to smoke. More alarms blared from the control panels. Behind them Norys's TIE fighter continued to fire mercilessly, pounding their hull, trying to crack open the battered cargo s.h.i.+p.

Jacen stared at the comm unit, but didn't think it would do any good to send out another distress signal.

The jungle treetops rushed by beneath them. Jacen looked wildly from side to side.

"I don't suppose it would be a good time to tell a joke," he said.

Peckhum shook his head. "Don't feel much like laughing right now."

THE THICK BRANCHES of the damp and shadowy jungle closed around him, pressing in. It reminded Zekk of the murky lower levels of Coruscant. It felt almost like home.

He and his troops of Dark Jedi had fallen from the skies, buoyed by repulsorpacks.

After coming to rest in the upper branches, they'd worked their way down to ground level and spread out to surround the fleeing Jedi trainees Master Skywalker had brainwashed into supporting Rebel philosophies.

Zekk knew little about politics. He understood only who his friends and supporters were-and who had betrayed him. Like Jacen and Jaina...

especially Jaina. He had thought she was his friend, a close companion.

Only later, after Brakiss had explained it, did Zekk understand what Jaina really thought of him, how easily she dismissed his Jedi potential and the possibility that he might be an equal to her and her high-born twin brother. But Zekk did have the potential, and he had proved it.

In spite of this, he hoped Jacen and Jaina would not fight him, because then he would have to demonstrate his power-and his loyalty to the Second Imperium. He remembered his first test against Tamith Kai's prize student Vilas, and Vilas had paid with his life.

In the upper branches of a tree overhead, one Dark Jedi fighter had become tangled.

Zekk watched as the bright arc of a lightsaber blade slashed boughs out of the way, clearing a path for the fighter to descend to the lower levels.

Overhead a wing of TIE fighters roared across the skies, firing into the forest. The Dark Jedi spread out, looking for potential victims on their own. Zekk gathered three of the nearest fighters to his side and they marched along, cras.h.i.+ng through the underbrush.

They reached the edge of the wide river, whose brown-green currents lapped quietly through the jungle, stirring overhanging fronds. Farther downstream, closer to the tall Ma.s.sa.s.si temple ruins, he saw Tamith Kai's hovering battle platform.

Zekk stood beside his Dark Jedi companions on the riverbank. The other fighters exchanged glances and pointed skyward.

Zekk nodded, knowing what they wished to do. "Yes," he said. "Let us conjure a storm, a great wind to knock the jungle flat and send these Jedi cowards scurrying."

He looked up into the clear blue skies and reached deep within his heart, finding a shadow of anger, the pain he had felt in his life. He knew how to use anger as a tool, a weapon. Zekk gathered the winds. Beside him, he felt the other dark-side warriors doing the same, drawing thunderheads until lumpy black clouds rolled in from the horizon.

The wind picked up and grew colder, charged with static electricity. ZeWs scarlet lined cape rippled around him. Stray strands of his dark hair whipped around his face as the wind s.n.a.t.c.hed them free of his ponytail.

Flas.h.i.+ng bolts of lightning skittered from one thunderhead to another.

The rumble of noise drowned out even the sound of TIE fighters crisscrossing overhead.

Zekk smiled. Yes, a storm was coming, a victorious storm.

But as the clouds continued to swell, releasing a powerful weather energy, he heard sounds of repeated laser cannon fire and glanced to the sky, where another battle was taking place: a one-sided dogfight. A smoking s.h.i.+p careened overhead, pursued by a lone TIE fighter that shot its energy bolts again and again, mercilessly pummeling its prey.

Astonished, Zekk recognized the clunky patchwork form of the Lightning Rod, the cargo s.h.i.+p of his old friend Peckhum, the man with whom he had lived for many years.

Peckhum! They had been close companions, good friends despite how little they had in common. Too late, he remembered that the old s.p.a.cer earned extra credits by making occasional supply runs to Skywalker's Jedi academy. Could it be that his old friend had been here on the jungle moon when this morning's attack began?

His heart sank, and a wrenching dismay filled his stomach. His concentration on the storm faltered.

In the backlash, winds whipped the trees closer to him, blowing back branches as the other Dark Jedi struggled to retain control of the gusting squall.

"No, Peckhum," Zekk said, looking up as he watched the TIE fighter blasting the hapless Lightning Rod. A small explosion flared on its hull, and Zekk knew that the battered supply s.h.i.+p had just lost its s.h.i.+elds.

The Lightning Rod was going down-and there was nothing he could do about it.

He heard shouts of surprise next to him as the Dark Jedi Knights completely lost control of the gathering storm. The winds continued to snap branches and uproot saplings, then gradually dissipated as the dark-side warriors stopped manipulating the weather.

Their attention had been drawn to a young Jedi trainee they discovered in the underbrush-someone who had either been creeping up on them or simply hiding from Zekk's advance.

The boy scrambled out of the weeds, spiky pale hair blowing around his flushed face.

His clothes and robes were so ridiculously garish-bright purples and golds and greens and reds-that they hurt Zekk's eyes. How could this young man have thought to hide while dressed like that?

The boy appeared frightened, but determined. He thrust his lower lip out and stood with his hands on his hips, his rainbow colored robes rippling around him in the last vestiges of the angry wind.

"Very well, you give me no choice," the boy said, then cleared his throat. "I am Raynar, Jedi Knight... uh, in training. You will either surrender now-or force me to attack YOU."

Two of Zekk's companions laughed in wholehearted amus.e.m.e.nt, ignited their lightsabers, and stalked toward the trapped young man. Raynar stepped backward until he b.u.mped against the rough trunk of a tree. He squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to concentrate. He held his breath until his face turned bright red, then purplish.

Zekk felt a slight invisible push as the boy attempted to use the Force to drive them back. The two lightsaber-bearing Dark Jedi seemed not even to notice.

Zekk found, though, that he had no stomach for outright slaughter. This boy seemed proud and brash, but there was something about him-an innocence...

Thinking quickly, before his two companions could drive in and make short work of Raynar, Zekk reached out with the Force, grabbed the boy by his bright robes, and yanked him off his feet. With a flick of his mind, he hurled Raynar over the heads of his companions, tossing him out into the river. Raynar yowled as he flew, then plunged befly-first into the thin, muddy waters.

The two Dark Jedi whirled, looking angrily at Zekk. Out in the water, Raynar splashed to the shallows, completely soaked in mud, his robes covered with river slime.

"It is a greater victory to utterly humiliate your enemy than simply to kill him," Zekk said. "And we have humiliated this Jedi in a way he will never forget."

The dark warriors next to him chuckled at the observation, and Zekk knew he had defused their anger... for the moment, at least.

Then he looked longingly into the sky, hoping to spot any trace of the Lightning Rod, but he saw only a dissipating cloud of smoke overhead. He wished he could find some way to help his friend; would he be forced to count the loss of Peckhum as part of the cost of victory?

The wounded s.h.i.+p had pa.s.sed out of sight to where the battle would reach its foregone conclusion. He was certain he would never see the Lightning Rod or Peckhum again.

QORL'S TIE FIGHTER flew low over the jungle, mapping out targets for the a.s.sault squadron. The rest of his fighter wing had their own orders, and they flew in their own attack patterns.

He doubted, though, that his student Norys would bother to follow orders once the battles actually started and laser shots began to fly. The bully would blunder from target to target like a mad gun dark, likely to cause as much damage to the Imperial plans as he did to the Rebels.

Qorl felt cold inside, liquid dismay hardening to ice. He had expected to be exhilarated by flying and fighting again, piloting his own TIE fighter in battle for the Second Imperium.

Instead, he had only reservations and second thoughts. He dreaded the possibility that he had made a bad decision and that the Second Imperium might have to pay the price.

Norys continued to be a great disappointment. When Qorl had selected the tough young man, he knew the bully's personality had hardened during years of harsh living, though he had lorded over the Lost Ones on Coruscant. The broad-shouldered boy had been dedicated, vowing to become an Imperial soldier because it gave him a feeling of power and confidence-exactly what the Second Imperium needed.

However, a loyal soldier was also required to obey orders. A servant of the Empire couldn't be a loose cannon, following his own wishes rather than the commands of his superiors. As he'd grown accustomed to his situation, Norys had become increasingly disrespectful, even insubordinate.

The bully was truly bloodthirsty, wanting simply to dominate, to cause pain, to achieve utter victory. He did not fight for the glory of the Second Imperium, or for bringing back the New Order-or for any sort of political goal. He fought simply to fight. And that was a deadly att.i.tude, no matter which side he fought for.

Qorl circled, zeroing in on a raging forest fire that had been started by one of the TIE bombers, then streaked along the river to where Tamith Kai's battle platform hovered over t e trees. ver his c.o.c.kpit communication channel, Qorl heard a loud, desperate transmission on all bands-and recognized the voice.

"Attention, New Republic. We have an emergency! This is Jacen Solo on Yavin 4, requesting immediate a.s.sistance. We are under attack by the Shadow Academy!" Qorl sat up, adjusted his black helmet, and flew steadily. He remembered the young twins who had helped fix his TIE fighter, the brother and sister who had been his prisoners around the campfire in the depths of the jungle. They had offered him friends.h.i.+p...

and tried to turn him from his loyalty to the Second Imperium. But he had been indoctrinated too well.

Surrender is betrayal.