Dark Tide 1: Onslaught Page 6

  Corran could feel the Force gathering in his son. He gave Valin’s shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t do it.”

  The taller man opened his arms easily and let the hint of a smile twist his lips. “Please, Valin, show me what you can do. Project whatever vision you wish. I promise to be afraid.”

  The boy lifted his chin as the Force drained out of him. “Scariest thing I can think of is you standing there.”

  Ganner clapped slowly. “He has a lot of spirit, this is good.” He looked at Corran. “Our ship is ready to go.”

  “I was just going to say good-bye to my son.”

  “We have some time. Not much, but a little yet.”

  Corran turned to Valin. “Go back to the Great Temple. Your mother and sister are there. Tell them I’ll be along presently to say farewell.”

  The boy arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure?”

  Ganner laughed. “I won’t hurt him.”

  Valin turned his head and spitted Ganner on a hard stare. “As if you could . . .”

  “Go, Valin. Your mother will get impatient, and you don’t want that any more than I do.” Corran ruffled the boy’s hair. “Your mother will be worried, so ease her fears, okay?”

  The boy nodded, then started sprinting off toward the temple.

  Corran watched him go, then slowly looked back at Ganner. “Okay, and now the real reason you wanted to meet me here, away from the others.”

  “Perceptive, good.” Ganner’s arctic eyes narrowed. “You’re nominally in charge of our expedition—”

  “Correction, I’m in charge of it.” Corran folded his arms across his chest. “You are my aide on this run.”

  “In the data files, yes, that’s it. In reality . . .”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning you’re an old-style Jedi, you and your dual-phase lightsaber. Meaning I’m a much more powerful Jedi than you are. Meaning I know that you don’t care for Kyp Durron’s philosophy—a philosophy that I think must be embraced if the Jedi order is to fulfill its destiny in the galaxy.” Ganner gestured easily, and the rock rose in the air as if lodged in some invisible turbolift. “I will do what must be done for us to complete our mission, but I will not brook interference from you.”

  The rock shot straight at Corran. He dodged to the right. The rock veered wide to the left, then tumbled and crashed back through the underbrush.

  Ganner smirked at him. “Do you understand what I am saying?”

  “Sure.” Corran let his hands fall to his sides easily. “You’re saying that your philosophy is more important than the job we’re being sent to do.”

  “That’s not it at all.”

  “Sure it is, but I don’t expect you to understand that.” Corran shook his head. “You and Kyp and the others that believe the way you do—you’re working very hard to establish what the Jedi mean to this galaxy. You’re doing that by wearing sharp uniforms and taking strong stands. Much of the time you’re probably right in the stands you take—I can’t disagree with them. What I don’t like is how you make the stands, and how you work. You’re all saying, ‘Hey, we are Jedi. We deserve your respect.’ I happen to think we need to earn it.”

  Ganner’s expression darkened. “We have earned it. The Jedi made order out of the chaos of the Empire.”

  “No, a Jedi did that, the only Jedi there was at the time who was willing to stand up and fight the Empire. Luke Skywalker earned the galaxy’s respect, not the rest of us. Our fight has to be waged each and every day out there, and here’s a hologram you’d best study from all sides: People end up being inherently suspicious and resentful of anyone who sets himself up to sort right from wrong.” Corran gave him a half smile. “I saw it when I worked for CorSec, and I’ve seen it as a Jedi.”

  The taller man threw his head back and laughed. “You, of all people, have the least call to criticize us for trying to establish an image that makes our jobs easier.”

  “How do you plot that course?”

  “What you did on Courkrus. You terrorized people. Made them see frightening things that weren’t there.” A triumphant smirk played over Ganner’s features. “You might have been going by the name Keiran Halcyon then, but you used the methods we use. You know how effective they can be.”

  “No, no, no.” Corran shook his head. “You’re not going to use what I did at Courkrus to justify your actions. Courkrus was an outlaw planet, ruled by pirates. I used their fear against them to break down their confederation. I made those who deserved to fear someone bringing justice, actually fear justice having arrived. You all come into a situation and hold yourselves back, aloof, judging always. No one can feel safe around you—they always have to wonder when you will come to judge them.”

  “We deter them from turning to the dark side that way.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that argument before, from guys at CorSec and in every security service on any planet I’ve ever visited. Fear, regardless of what good it might accomplish, is a stepping-stone on the path to the dark side.” Corran held his hands up. “None of that matters, though. You don’t want me interfering with you on this mission of ours, fine. Don’t give me cause to interfere with you. We’re to go, find some academics, and bring them home. It’s very simple.”

  Ganner Rhysode snorted at his description of the mission, and Corran felt just a glimmer of respect for the man’s rejection of that description. Perhaps you are a little bit sharper than I am willing to grant.

  “I do hope it will be simple, but these things never are.” Ganner waved a hand back toward the Great Temple. “Though some are taking refuge in the idea that the hyperspace disturbance around the galaxy will keep out all but the few Yuuzhan Vong who squirted through, I think the analogy that it’s like a storm, a storm that may be abating, is more likely true. If so, we will likely find Yuuzhan Vong on that world and many others. I’ll be ready.”

  Ganner dropped a hand to his lightsaber. “I’ll do whatever it takes to show these invaders why they never should have come here.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “What?” Ganner snarled a bit as he slapped at a garnant on his neck. “The Yuuzhan Vong are invaders. We need to drive them back.”

  “Our mission is to save the academics.” Corran smiled carefully as the larger man slapped at more insects. “It’s a little detail, but you can see how painful missing the little things can be.”

  Ganner growled again and brushed garnants from his clothes. “You did this to me.”

  “Not me. Perhaps you stepped on a colony’s main tunnel.” Corran kept his mirth in check. I will have to speak to Valin about this. He admired his son’s sense of family, but the Force wasn’t a tool for playing practical jokes. I think he knows that. I just have to remind him of it and make sure he doesn’t make that mistake again.

  Ganner angrily scratched at his clothes and slapped at garnants. “They’re everywhere.”

  A shiver ran down Corran’s spine as he caught a mental image of the Yuuzhan Vong swarming over Ganner the way the insects were. “Head back to the temple and hit a refresher station. They’ve painted you with a scent that will draw more to you. We’ll go as soon as you are rid of them.”

  “You may think this is funny, Horn, but I’m serious about what I’ve said. Don’t get in my way.” The taller man tore his tunic off and started running toward the Great Temple.

  Corran watched him go until he could no longer see the red bite bumps all over Ganner’s back. “I have no intention of being in your way, Ganner, unless you force me to be there,” he muttered at the retreating figure. “If you do, I guess we’ll find out just who really is the stronger Jedi.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Through the doorway to the bedroom they shared, Luke Skywalker caught a glimpse of his wife reclining on the bed. She lay there very comfortably, her red-gold hair spread around her head like a halo. Her chest rose and fell regularly and gently—peacefully, really—prompting him to realize how little peace they had known i
n their life together.

  Beside her, on the bed, lay a few folded garments that needed to be stuffed into the traveling bags at the foot of the bed. Hers were mostly full, and two bags had been set out for him. Luke smiled, appreciating her thoughtfulness, and admiring her for taking the extra effort to get his bags out, despite the draining fatigue that was part of her illness.

  He entered the room quietly, hoping not to disturb her, but her eyes flickered open. “Luke. Good, it’s you.”

  “Who else would you have expected?”

  She smiled, a bit haltingly, but with enough strength to send a thrill through him. “Anakin. I don’t want to be late for our departure.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Anakin is a very understanding boy.” Luke set aside the folded garments and seated himself at Mara’s feet. “How are you?”

  One corner of her mouth tucked itself into a smirk. “You’re the Jedi Master, you tell me.”

  Luke reached out through the Force toward her and quickly encountered the defenses she’d set up. It felt as if she’d wrapped herself in thorns, then cobbled together body armor from starship hull plates. Beyond that were kilometers of wrappings holding her in all tight. Each line of defense brought his probe up short, then a little, tiny gap opened, allowing him to move deeper and deeper.

  Finally, beyond the wrappings and past an ocean of images, hopes, and fears, he reached Mara’s core. When he experienced her through the Force this way she always appeared to him to be white-hot, flaring brilliantly. She was the most vibrant and alive person he’d ever known—something made all that much more remarkable since the Emperor would have tried to dampen down her vitality while she was in his service.

  The illness she had contracted had sapped some of her strength, but her resilience kept it at bay. He could feel the Force flowing through her, constantly rebuilding the damage done and keeping the disease beaten back. While the initial encounters with the Yuuzhan Vong had distracted her and allowed the disease to advance, she had made a major effort toward recovery.

  She is not yet whole again, but she is gaining in strength. Luke gave her a smile. “I’d say you are doing very well, my love.”

  Mara sat forward and reached out to stroke Luke’s cheek. “I’m doing better, but not well enough.”

  “Give it time, Mara.” He kissed her on the wrist. “Impatience is handmaiden to despair.”

  “And despair is of the dark side.” Mara nodded slightly. “I understand, Master Skywalker.”

  Luke shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do, Luke, and I know why you warn me that way. Your empathy and caution are two of your more endearing qualities.” She lay back down, drawing her knees up to give Luke more room.

  Luke rested his chin on her right knee. “You don’t mind having Anakin accompany you to Dantooine?”

  She shook her head. “I can go it alone, if you need him elsewhere.”

  “If you don’t want him with you, I can find another assignment for him.” The Jedi Master kissed her kneecap. “I don’t want you burdened with something that’s really my problem.”

  “Luke!” Mara’s voice gained in volume and developed a little of an edge. “When we married, your problems became my problems.”

  “Yes, but Anakin is part of my family, and the way you grew up, you didn’t have a chance to—”

  Mara spitted him with a green-eyed stare. “Want to consider again what you’re saying there, Raised-as-an-only-child Skywalker?”

  Luke laughed silently for a moment. “Point taken.”

  “Take this one, too. When I agreed to marry you, I knew what I was getting into. We agreed to share our lives, which means we agreed to share all of the problems as well as the joys.” Mara closed her eyes for a moment. “I like Anakin. I can sympathize with what he is going through.” She opened her eyes again. “He feels responsible for Chewbacca’s death. At one time I felt responsible for the Emperor’s death. Both of us have lost someone who was part of the foundation of our lives. If I can help him through that, well, he won’t have to go through the things I did to find his way back out again.”

  She glanced up at Luke. “Of course, I imagine he’s not thrilled at being saddled with a sick old lady heading to a backwater world for a rest cure.”

  “Actually, he accepted the assignment very willingly. I told him I was entrusting you to his care. He shouldered that responsibility very positively. He’s done a good job requisitioning all the things you’ll need on Dantooine.”

  Mara’s eyes flashed. “I caught that burst of caution from you, Luke. What is it?”

  “I clearly need to work on control more.” He sighed. “You know the star charts. Dantooine is fairly well Rimward. It could be in the Yuuzhan Vong invasion corridor—if there is one. Sending you and Anakin out there all alone—”

  “Is probably the best shot you have at getting some scouting done so you can assess the scope of the invasion.” Mara scooted back, sitting up and piling pillows behind her back. “As we’ve discussed, the attacks we’ve already dealt with were decidedly unmilitary. There was no reconnaissance in force, no establishment of forward bases that could be supported, none of the things we’d expect from an invasion. Whatever is going to be following this up will now have to work more cautiously because they know we’re alerted.”

  “I can’t fault your logic, but I don’t like the idea of having you on the front line.”

  “But Dantooine isn’t a serious military target. That’s why the Rebels chose it as a base, only to abandon it later. And that’s why Tarkin didn’t destroy it with the Death Star.”

  Luke shrugged uneasily. “That’s assuming their sense of targets is the same as ours. You remember what they did on Belkadan. Maybe their selection criteria are different from ours.”

  “All the more reason we need to have people scouting far and wide, to figure them out.”

  The Jedi Master shook his head. “There’s basically no way that you won’t be able to twist my concerns around into proof that you and Anakin should be sent to Dantooine, is there?”

  “It is only because I know you so well, my love.” Mara crooked a finger, beckoning him closer.

  Luke stretched out on the bed, resting his upper body on his elbows. “You do know me, Mara, better than I know myself.”

  “But not as well as I will know you when we’re old and gray together.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. “And I know your concern for me, and for all the other Jedi heading out, is simply a mechanism you use to avoid thinking about the dangers you will face. After all, we are going to worlds where the Yuuzhan Vong might appear. You are going to a world where we already know they’ve been, and we have no clue as to what you will find on Belkadan.”

  “All I want to find there is something to help cure you. You said you felt a connection between the plague there and your illness. If I can track down something that will be more helpful—”

  She pressed a finger against his lips. “You will, Luke. Facing all we’ve faced, there is no way I’m letting some ague kill me. If the cure comes from Belkadan, great. If we have to find it elsewhere, that’s fine, too. The key thing is to find out for certain if my illness is connected to the Yuuzhan Vong. If it is, when I get healthy, the Yuuzhan Vong will pay.”

  Luke raised his face and kissed her on the lips. “When, ah, you and I were on the opposite side of things, that sort of spirit made me a bit fearful of our finally having to face each other in combat. Now I almost feel sorry for the Yuuzhan Vong.”

  “They brought it on themselves. No one invited them here.” Mara returned his kiss, long and fiercely. “Don’t you worry about me, Luke. Take care of yourself and Jacen. Anakin and I will do just fine.”

  He nodded. “I know you will.” He kissed her again. “I will miss you terribly, you know.”

  Mara ran her fingers back through his hair. “And I will miss you, too, husband. But, our being apart from time to time is something I also accepted when I
became your wife. We part now so we can be together forever. Not the best bargain in life, but not the worst, either. And, for now, husband mine, it is a bargain I am more than happy to accept.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  As his X-wing cleared the dorsal launch bay on the Bothan Assault Cruiser Ralroost, Gavin Darklighter tugged back on the stick and rolled to starboard to watch the rest of the squadron emerge. The Bothan Assault Cruiser was one of the latest additions to the New Republic fleet. While slightly smaller than a Victory-class Star Destroyer, and possessed of leaner and less angular lines, the Ralroost boasted 20 percent more firepower than a Vic and almost half again as much in terms of shielding and armor. The ship had been designed to take a severe pounding and still hammer an enemy.

  Gavin recalled the discussion he’d had with his wife and his sister when the Bothans announced plans to build the Assault Cruisers. Peace had been declared with the Imperial Remnant, so the ships were seen as either a foolish allocation of resources, hints at future Bothan aggression, or, as far as Sera and Rasca were concerned, a gross waste of money. Given that peace reigned in the galaxy, both of them thought the money needed to build one of the ships could be better spent on healing the scars of decades-long war.

  Their arguments had been persuasive, but Gavin had reserved judgment, and as he looked down at the ship, he was glad the Bothans had built it. The fighter hangars were amidships and had launch apertures that would let the fighters head up or down, as needed, to get into battle. The dual launch paths also meant recovering fighters after a battle was faster, and Gavin very much appreciated that detail.

  He keyed his comm unit. “One flight on me. Five, you have two, and, Nine, you have three.”