ABOVE ABELOTH’S PLANET

DIRECT HIT ON ENGINE NUMBER TWO, Rowdy informed Jaina.

“Stang,” Jaina swore. Ship was opening fire again. The vessel stopped its spiral and she was able to get it back under control just in time to veer out of the path of the next round of torpedos.

“Target Ship,” she barked, juking and jinking to avoid the attack.

Targeting array damaged.

Another hit. The StealthX shuddered.

Targeting display offline.

Jaina pressed her lips together grimly. She still had the Force. Ship twirled, spinning around rapidly but in full control of itself, and she felt its dark gloating. It came to an immediate stop and seemed to be impaling her with its “eye.”

Ship has us target locked, Rowdy informed her.

“I can see that,” Jaina snapped. “Ready—”

She felt the oppressive attention vanish. And a second later, Ship was gone. It was moving, not down to the planet presumably to help Abeloth, but away from the planet, into space.

“What is it doing?” she asked aloud.

RUNNING AWAY BECAUSE IT IS SO OBVIOUSLY OUTMATCHED PERHAPS.

“I wish,” Jaina said. With only three engines and a useless targeting array, she had been at a serious disadvantage. No, something else had happened. She just didn’t know what. At least the vessel wasn’t down there firing on Luke and Ben.

“Okay, Rowdy,” she said, “let’s head back to the Rockhound and see if there’s any news.”

ASYLYM BLOCK, JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

Cilghal’s heart was heavy as she made her way to the asylum block. As a healer, she mourned every loss of life, and Kani’s murder on the very steps of the Temple infuriated and saddened her profoundly. It had been, as it had doubtless been calculated to be, a severe blow to the morale of the besieged Jedi. There was still no luck in finding anything that could be utilized as an escape route, although the Solos’ ingenious idea to send in badly needed medication on vermin-back had helped lift spirits somewhat.

Still, small creatures could carry only small vials. They had merely staved off the inevitable. The chrono was ticking on the siege deadline. One way or another, something would shift.

Although the ysalamiri prevented usage of the Force in close proximity of the patients, Cilghal used it now to calm herself. It was time for another dose of the sedative; they would be alert and awake, and if they could not sense her in the Force, there was still body language and voice inflections. The calmer she was, the calmer they would be.

There were three of them, now, Sothais Saar, Turi Altamik, and Kunor Bann. Each of them had his or her own comfortable living area, the walls made of transparisteel, with cams that were usually turned off in the more private areas, but could be activated if need be. When they were alert, Cilghal found Saar raging violently—he was the one most in need of the sedative—Altamik clawing at something, and Bann rocking back and forth with tears pouring down his face. She slowed and came to a full stop as they came into view.

Shul Vaal, her Twi’lek colleague, approached her. Normally tranquil, Vaal seemed to be suppressing excitement. “Master Cilghal,” he began, “there’s something—”

Cilghal lifted a hand and Vaal fell silent.

Sothais Saar was sitting calmly at the small table. Datapads and holovids had been provided to all the patients, but they seldom made use of them except to break them. Now the Chev’s heavy-browed head was bent over the datapad, and he seemed to be, quite peacefully, engrossed in reading.

Turi Altamik was brushing her hair. Her expression was strained, tired, but reflected none of the madness that had turned her pert, pretty features into scowls or glowers. And Bann—he stood gazing out the transparisteel, hands clasped behind his back. As soon as he saw Cilghal and Vaal, he lifted his hand and waved, smiling uncertainly.

“I don’t believe it,” Cilghal said slowly. “It’s not possible … is it?”

They looked … sane. All three of them.

“It could be a trick,” Vaal said. “Seff Hellin tricked the Solos before. They could simply be pretending to be sane.”

“All three of them? At once? They couldn’t possibly have coordinated this, there’s no way for them to communicate.”

Hope rose within her, almost unbearably bright. She forced it down. She had no proof yet. She would not rejoice until she knew, for an absolute certainty, that all of them had returned to their normal selves.

And then … then she would have something that would lift the Jedi’s spirits to the skies and beyond.

Armed with stun sticks and a tranquilizer pistol, they ascended to the catwalk on the upper level of the cellblock. Cilghal desperately wished that she had all the ill Jedi here now. It would be interesting to see if Valin Horn, the first one to display the madness, would also show these positive signs if he were not encased in carbonite. For now, though, she supposed she should be grateful she even had these three.

“Jedi Saar first,” she told Vaal, who nodded thoughtfully. “He’s been the most violent, and of the three, he’s been ill the longest.”

They paused in front of the door to the transparisteel cell. Vaal rapped gently. Saar turned and saw them. He smiled, a stiff, formal smile—completely typical for him—and rose.

“Sothais?” said Tekli. “We’d like to come in.”

“I am so glad to see you,” he said. “Please, please, do come in.”

The two healers exchanged glances, then Cilghal entered the code. He made no rush to attack or escape, simply stood by the table, still holding the datapad. “I remember everything,” he said. “I’m terribly embarrassed. I’m so sorry I attacked you, Master Cilghal. And I must apologize to Chief of Staff Dorvan as soon as possible.”

“You … remember? You don’t think we’re imposters?” Cilghal asked.

Color rose in the Chev’s cheeks. “I did, at one point. It seemed … right. I can’t explain it better than that. Even when I knew what to look for—when it happened, it seemed completely believable.”

Tekli gestured to the datapad. “What are you reading, Sothais?”

“Updates on my treatise,” he said. “Apparently, there has been an uprising on Klatooine. I am most gratified and I hope this will inspire other oppressed beings to take their destinies into their own hands.”

That certainly sounded like Saar. Cilghal made a decision. It was risky, but she was willing to chance it. “I’d like you to come with us to the infirmary. We’d like to run a few tests.”

“Certainly.” He did not move.

“Jedi Saar?”

“I assume you are going to secure me in some fashion,” he said, slightly puzzled.

“No,” Cilghal said. “Come along.”

The center of her back itched, waiting for the blow.

Hamner was in his office. Normally, it was a tidy, orderly place, but now it was strewn with datapads and half-drunk, cold cups of caf. Hamner himself was unshaven and exhausted. He was poring over old blueprints of the Temple, and jotting notes about his conversation with Bwua’tu. If only the Bothan would act! Get Daala to call off this siege, this terrible siege that was causing them all so much harm.

His comm chimed. He clicked it. “Hamner.”

“Master Hamner?” It was Cilghal. Her voice was higher pitched than usual.

“What is it? Is everything all right? Have you run out of sedatives?” He rubbed at his aching, gritty eyes.

“Everything is more than all right,” said the Mon Calamari, her gravelly voice filled with pleasure. “I am … delighted beyond words to report that all three of the ill Jedi appear to have made a full recovery.”

The exhaustion fled. “What? All of them? How?”

“I’m not sure, but it seemed to happen to all of them simultaneously. We’ve run test after test; all three of them seem to be back to their old selves. My best guess is that, somehow, Master Skywalker was successful in his quest to find the cause and effect a cure.”

Hamner’s throat closed up and he couldn’t speak. He lifted a hand that trembled to his forehead for a moment.

“Master Hamner?”

“That’s wonderful, wonderful news, Cilghal. News we sorely needed. News … I sorely needed. Thank you.”

So, Ben thought, glancing at the several Sith who stood by, staring at the corpse of their mutual enemy. What now? He didn’t turn off his lightsaber.

Luke got to his feet, and went to check on Dyon. “He should recover, but he needs care, right away. Ben, take him to the Shadow.”

“But—”

Luke shot him a look and Ben fell silent.

“My daughter is injured as well,” said Gavar Khai, moving to Vestara’s side and examining her injuries. Vestara was pale, but she was doing her best to show no weakness, even now. “I will take her back to my ship and—”

“I don’t think we’ve decided what’s going to happen yet, Khai.” The words, unexpectedly, were spoken by Taalon. The Sith High Lord looked thoughtfully at Luke. “There’s still the body to examine.”

“And this place, and the others that I saw Beyond Shadows,” said Luke, nodding. “And I’m certain you’re every bit as interested as I am in learning what Abeloth was.”

“Indeed,” said Taalon. “It would seem that our alliance is not yet quite dissolved.”

Ben sighed.

“Surely you don’t need more than a thousand Sith hanging around with nothing to do but plot treachery among themselves,” Luke said.

“You are afraid,” Taalon said, smiling thinly.

“Actually, I’m not,” said Luke. “But I think you are.”

The smile vanished. Taalon’s eyes flashed. “Manners, Skywalker, or I shall lose my temper, and you and your boy will die without having your questions answered.”

“Send them away,” Luke said. “I’ll let Jaina and Lando go, too. Two Jedi, three Sith. The numbers do seem a bit unfair, I admit. For you.”

Taalon and Khai exchanged glances, smiling ever so slightly. “I agree,” said the High Lord.

“Good,” Luke said. “Ben, take Vestara and Dyon back to the Jade Shadow and take care of them both. Contact Jaina and Lando, and tell them the terms we’ve agreed on.”

Ben expected Khai or Taalon to protest. Instead, Khai looked to his leader, and Taalon said, “Yes, I am sure your sick bay is quite well stocked. Vestara deserves the best care. Do not let him out of your sight, child. Is that understood? We need you watching the boy.”

Ben had to try really hard to not roll his eyes. His father had essentially reclaimed Vestara as a hostage, and here was Taalon, trying to make it look like Ben was the prisoner being watched over by the girl. It was all silly, pointless posturing as far as he was concerned. He knelt beside Dyon, lifted his friend as gently as possible, and glanced over at Vestara.

“Looks like you can walk okay,” he said. He was still angry and hurt at the deception she’d perpetrated earlier. “Come on.”

Taalon watched them go. He wondered if the boy, if Khai and Vestara and the others, had all been personally assaulted by Abeloth as he had been.

He knew it had been only a second that the creature who now lay dead at their feet had frozen him in order to attempt to seduce Skywalker. But it might as well have been an eternity. He had been unsettled enough by Faal’s fate, though he would never admit that, and it was as if Abeloth knew it.

In that second that was a lifetime, a dozen lifetimes, she had looked inside him, violated him on a level even he, a Sith High Lord, had not imagined was possible, and beheld what it was that Sarasu Taalon feared most.

And called it forth.

He had been running, running on feet that were blistered and bleeding, running with labored breath and near-exploding heart. And they had been behind him.

All the beings whose lives he had taken, or broken, or twisted. All the friends he had betrayed, all the family members he had ordered slain, all the rivals whose loved ones he had tormented, and those loved ones as well who had not even known his face in life. As long as he succeeded, they would not touch him. As long as he won every battle, made no mistakes, spotted every foe, he would be all right.

But the minute his foot wavered—

His ankle betrayed him, and he fell, hitting the ground upon which he was running hard. Tears, shameful tears of abject terror poured down his purple face as he scrambled to rise.

They were upon him, ripping, tearing, biting; their touch freezing and burning. He realized they would not kill him, not at once. They were going to tear him apart piece by tiny piece. And even then the torment would not stop. Abeloth had shown him it wouldn’t.

“High Lord?” It was Khai, looking at him searchingly.

Taalon’s heart leapt within his chest. He couldn’t falter. Not in front of this one. Not in front of Skywalker.

He couldn’t falter, or fall, or be wrong, or make a single miscalculation.

Ever.

“Ben? Ben, are you all right? Is Luke okay?” Jaina waved away the droid that was trying to attend to a cut on her forehead. Ben’s voice was being patched through the ship’s intercom from the bridge.

“We’re fine. We got her.” Ben’s voice was filled with pride, and Jaina couldn’t blame him. She listened to him recap the fight while the healing droid fussed over her. She hated to admit it, for a variety of reasons, but it did seem as though the Sith worked well together. It had been good for everyone—this time. And only this time.

“You guys have any trouble?” he asked when he was done.

“Not much. I had a little dogfight with a very ugly vessel named Ship.” Now it was her turn to grin as Ben demanded the details. “Unfortunately, we had to call it a draw. He stopped firing at me abruptly and just took off. My StealthX was too beat-up to follow. Lando’s going to help me repair it.”

“It just left? Huh,” Ben said. “I wonder …” His voice trailed off, and too late, Jaina realized that he was probably not alone. She was willing to bet the girl was with him.

“Anyway, I’ve got orders from Dad for you and Lando.”

At that moment, the door opened and Lando entered. “Good timing,” Jaina said. “Luke and Ben beat Abeloth, and Luke’s got orders for us.”

“Hi, Lando,” Ben said. “Dad, me, Taalon, and Vestara and her dad are all going to stay behind and do some investigating. See if we can learn anything more about Abeloth. Part of the agreement is that Dad needs both you and Jaina to head home.”

Jaina’s jaw dropped. “He wants us to go? After we came all the way out here to help him, Luke wants us to go and leave him alone down there with the girl’s dad and the High Lord?”

“That’s what he said,” came Ben’s voice. Jaina stared at Lando, looking for a little help, but all Lando did was shrug.

“Don’t look at me,” he said. “I just came out here to tow debris.”

“Jaina, you need to get home. So does Lando.”

There was something in the way he said it that gave Jaina pause. She nodded to Lando to mute the communication. “Of course,” she said. “Luke needs us to get out there with the news about Abeloth and the Lost Tribe. We’ve got a lot more information on them now, information the Jedi can use. Maybe we even have enough to take it to Daala.” This last, though, she said with more doubt in her voice.

“Maybe,” Lando said doubtfully. “I’ll settle for letting the Jedi know that Luke’s alive and Abeloth isn’t.” He thumbed a button on the intercom.

“You’re right, Ben,” Jaina said. “I do need to get home, and so does Lando. Tendra and Chance will be worried about him. I assume the Sith will depart, too?”

“All of them, except for the three staying behind,” Ben assured her.

“Okay then. Take care of yourself, and your dad, too, all right?”

“Will do. Bye, Jaina.”

“So,” Lando said. “What are we really going to do?”

“I don’t trust those Sith any farther than I can throw them.”

“You’re a Jedi, Jaina, you can throw them pretty far.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, and I agree. But your StealthX isn’t good for much at the moment, and this ancient thing was never built for attacking. You might be better served by actually doing what Luke says.”

She eyed him.

“For a change,” he couldn’t resist adding.

“Oh, shut up. Let’s get back to Coruscant before I change my mind.”