NINETEEN

Stars filled the sky.

Head tipped back, eyes raised, Luke turned through a small circle, feeling infinitesimal under the giant boras, under the light-strewn expanse. The night was cold—made colder by a polar breeze—but there wasn’t a cloud overhead. Beside him, R2-D2 zithered and twittered, then fluted in what approximated relief.

Luke looked down at the readout on the droid’s dome. “You’re sure about that, little fella?”

The silver dome of the droid’s head revolved, taking his primary photoreceptor through a second survey of the stars and clusters. After comparing the results of his scans to the charts he had downloaded from Widowmaker’s data banks, R2-D2 mewled, chirped, then twittered some more.

Luke smiled and placed his hand on the droid’s dome. “At least we’re closer to known space. I guess we’ll just have to wait to see where Sekot’s next hyperspace jump lands us.”

Rocking side to side on his treads, R2-D2 tootled and fluted.

Luke had been one of the first to emerge from the shelter scooped into the notched cliff face that was home to hundreds of Ferroan families. Similar to other shelters in the Middle Distance, it was a vast vaulted space, excavated sometime during the Crossings that had taken Zonama Sekot from its original orbit in the Gardaji Rift, through several star systems, and finally into the Unknown Regions, where Sekot had selected Klasse Ephemora as the planet’s new home and sanctuary.

Following the discussion in the cave, Sekot had said that it wanted to perform several short trial voyages to assess whether the jump to lightspeed inadvertently engineered by Nom Anor had done lasting damage to the hyperspace cores and whatever planetary mechanisms Sekot employed to augment the powerful engines. Of greater concern was the very real possibility of encountering uncharted mass shadows along the route back to known space. Whether ship or planet, any traveler that entered hyperspace without taking a greater or lesser hyperlane risked catastrophe—and no analogs to the Perlemian Trade Route or the Hydian Way existed in the Unknown Regions. Worse, the entire territory was known to be rife with hyperspace anomalies, particularly along the Coreward frontier.

Luke and the other Jedi had to trust that Sekot knew what it was doing. So instead of dwelling on the prospects of being yanked from lightspeed by a gravity well of some sort, Luke had passed the days in the shelter grappling with Sekot’s revelations that the aboriginal Yuuzhan Vong had been stripped of the Force. Sekot had refused to elaborate; and since then Sekot—speaking through Jabitha—had said only that it was imperative that Zonama be returned to known space, despite the grave risks the planet would face during the Crossings and on arrival.

The revelation—Luke didn’t know what else to call it—had had a profound effect on Harrar, and on Luke, as well. Was it possible, Luke wondered, that the would-be Jedi who had originally settled on Zonama Sekot hadn’t taught Sekot about the Force but merely reawakened it?

A few steps away from Luke in the boras-enclosed clearing sat Jade Shadow. Designed for speed and stealth, the craft was sharply tapered forward and painted a uniform nonreflective gray. The hyperdrive rating was equal to that of the Millennium Falcon, and she had the added ability to be operated remotely by slave circuitry. The aft cabin space alone was large enough to accommodate an X-wing.

Even Sekot was impressed by the ship, and Luke suspected that it was Sekot that had kept Jade Shadow from being crushed by the several boras that had toppled during the recent storms, narrowly missing it. However, the ship was buried almost to her triangular cockpit in sand, leaves, and other forest detritus.

“Did she weather the jump all right?” Mara asked. Glow stick in hand, she emerged from the dark shadows of the giant trees and came alongside him to regard Jade Shadow.

“No visible damage.”

Mara tossed her hair over her right shoulder and gazed at the circle of brilliant stars overhead. “Any idea where we are?”

“According to Artoo, we might be somewhere in the Mid Rim.”

The droid cheeped.

Mara looked at R2-D2. “Is that good?”

“It’s a start.” Luke glanced at the path Mara had taken. “Where is everyone?”

“Jacen, Corran, and Danni are trying to convince the Ferroans that it’s safe to come out of hiding. The last I saw Tekli, Saba, and Tahiri, they were with Harrar, who keeps finding similarities between Yuuzhan Vong biots and what he sees here.” She approached Jade Shadow, then turned to Luke. “Do you think we’re close enough to contact Esfandia Station?”

“Only one way to find out.”

The ship had a cosmetic external hatch release, but the actual release was concealed inside the starboard bulkhead, and could be operated by the Force. Mara entered first, and called on the illuminators. As filthy as the ship was outside, the interior was undisturbed. Slipping into the forward chairs, she and Luke activated the ship’s HoloNet and subspace transceivers. At the same time, R2-D2 inserted his slender computer interface arm into an access port and rotated the dial to an appropriate setting.

“Esfandia Station, this is Jade Shadow …” Mara said, repeating the comm call several times.

The annunciator’s only response was static.

“At Klasse Ephemora we were even farther from Esfandia, and we still managed to reach the station,” Mara said, after continued attempts at contact.

R2-D2 buzzed in exasperation.

“He says he can’t find any functioning HoloNet transceivers,” Luke said.

“Try again,” Mara urged.

She and Luke pondered possible explanations while R2-D2 rotated the interface dial this way and that.

“Nothing,” Luke said, breaking their long silence.

Mara’s lightly freckled brow furrowed. “Could the Yuuzhan Vong have destroyed Esfandia?”

Luke leaned away from the console. “Corran said that something big had been planned for Bilbringi. But even if the Alliance failed to retake the shipyards there, that wouldn’t account for our not being able to contact any of the HoloNet relay stations.”

Mara shook her head back and forth. “Something terrible has happened.” She looked at him. “Could Cal Omas have given the okay to using Alpha Red?”

A Yuuzhan Vong-specific toxin, Alpha Red had been developed in secret by Alliance Intelligence, working in conjunction with Chiss scientists. But the only prototype sample of the bioweapon had been stolen by Vergere and transformed into something harmless.

“We’ve been gone long enough for Dif Scaur’s Intelligence bunch to have cooked up a whole new batch,” Mara added.

Luke shook his head. “Cal promised me that Alpha Red would be used only as a last resort.”

“Maybe it’s come down to that. And maybe the Yuuzhan Vong retaliated with a poison of their own.”

“Cal knows better. Evil can’t simply be stamped out. It’s as much a part of life as good is.”

Mara looked at him dubiously. “You’re thinking like a Jedi instead of an admiral or an elected official.” She blew out her breath. “All right. What’s your solution to ending this war?”

“I don’t know yet. I just know that Alpha Red isn’t the solution.”

Mara smiled at him and took his hand. “I happen to agree. But you are starting to sound a little like Vergere and Jacen.”

“Guilty as charged. But is that wrong?”

“Not in principle. Except that you’re probably more attuned to the Force than either of them.”

Luke made his lips a thin line. “I feel like I’m still in training for the trials. Every second of every day. It never ends, and I wouldn’t have it otherwise. My understanding of the Force continues to grow. I know I’m a Jedi Master, but I may not feel like a true Master until my dying breath. Besides, Jacen, Jaina, Tahiri, Ben … They’re the future of the Jedi. Everything we do now must be for them—to ensure that they carry on what began a thousand generations ago.”

Luke took his eyes from Mara, and glanced around the cockpit.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, after a moment. “And I think it’s time we tried.”

He smiled faintly. “If you’d stayed in my thoughts a little longer, you’d know why we can’t leave.”

Mara looked disappointed. “You’re not going to tell me you’re worried about running us into a mass shadow. Because Artoo can plot a safe route—even if it takes us twenty microjumps to get back to known space.”

“That isn’t it.” Luke regarded her again. “Mara, I’m as concerned about Ben as you are. Something terrible has happened, but it’s momentary. We have to stay focused on the greater picture.”

Mara rose and paced away from the control console, crossing her arms when she swung back to Luke. “The future’s exactly what I’m thinking about. Ben’s future. You said yourself that everything we do should be for him and the other young Jedi.” She sat down again and took her husband’s hands in hers. “Luke, Ben was almost killed on Coruscant by that witch Viqi Shesh. If something should happen to us …”

Luke pictured their red-golden-haired infant. “By leaving, we could destroy everything we’ve accomplished here. And then we won’t be a help to anyone—Ben included.”

Mara studied him. “You’re basing this on personal experience—on some mistake you once made.”

“I am.”

“Luke, there are times when action is the best course.”

“Actions have consequences.”

“What are the consequences here? Jacen and Corran can stay behind. We can leave them Jade Shadow, if you want. We’ll ask Sekot to grow us a ship.”

“It’s Sekot I’m worried about.”

Mara stared at him. “Sekot?”

“Sekot might misinterpret our leaving as a lack of trust, and change its mind about returning to known space.”

“Then you can explain our reason for leaving.”

“Tell Sekot that we’re worried about our son, about our friends, about what’s happened to the HoloNet?” Luke paused, then asked: “What about Sekot’s concerns for the Ferroans, or for what might happen to Zonama when it becomes part of the war?”

Mara mulled it over for a moment.

Luke squeezed her hands affectionately. “Ben will be fine. I saw him fine.”

Mara’s eyes narrowed in a reluctant smile. “You saw him piloting a ship of completely unfamiliar design—like the ones grown here.”

Luke recalled the rest of his vision: Ben tracing lines in the sand; kneeling by a river, rubbing smooth round stones between his fingers and smiling; wrestling with a young Wookiee … Luke saw himself holding Ben while they observed glowing lines of traffic move through the sky of an unknown world—like Coruscant but not. And, yes: Ben at the helm of a starship of unique design …

Mara was watching him. “Assuming you weren’t gazing at Ben from some other plane of existence, you’re going to be around to witness all those things.”

“So will you.”

“Was I part of the vision?”

In fact, Luke hadn’t seen Mara—not at first.

“Luke, promise me something,” Mara said before he could speak. “If anything happens to me—”

He tried to shush her, but she pushed his hand away.

“No, I need to say this. Promise me that if anything happens, you’ll love Ben with all your heart, and you’ll make him the center of your world, as he is to me.”

Luke pulled her into his arms. “ ‘Hush, my love, the night is mild and slumber smiles on you …’ ”

“Promise me, Luke.”

“I will—if you’ll make me the same promise.”

She nodded against his chest. “Then no matter what, the future’s assured.”