14

Small, but infinitely deadly, the Sun Crusher superweapon entered orbit around the gas giant of Yavin, flying side by side with the armored New Republic transport.

Sitting in the streamlined pilot’s seat, young Kyp Durron felt the Sun Crusher’s advanced controls respond to his fingertips. He stared through the segmented viewport at the eddying orange planet below, a waiting bottomless pit where the Sun Crusher would be buried forever.

“Ready to send her down, Kyp?” the voice of Wedge Antilles crackled across the comm unit. “Straight-line plunge.”

Kyp fingered the controls, feeling a chill of reluctance. The Sun Crusher was such a perfect weapon, well designed, able to withstand any onslaught. Kyp felt a strange attachment to the splinter-shaped craft that had brought him and Han Solo to freedom. But he also knew that Qwi Xux was right in that the temptation to use such power would eventually corrupt anyone. Qwi kept the knowledge in her head, vowing to share it with no one. But the functional superweapon itself had to be taken out of everyone’s grasp.

He adjusted the sublight course vectors. “I’m setting the nav systems now,” he said. “Prepare to dock.”

Kyp programmed a set of coordinates that would fire the Sun Crusher’s maneuvering jets and send the small ship down in a sharp ellipse to bury it in the turbulent clouds and the high-pressure core below.

“We’re ready for transfer,” Wedge said.

“Just a minute,” Kyp answered. He locked down the controls and caressed the deceptively simple panel one last time. The New Republic scientists and engineers had not been able to understand the machinery inside. They had not known how to deactivate the resonance torpedoes that would spark supernova explosions. Qwi Xux had refused to help them … and now the Sun Crusher would be gone forever.

Qwi’s birdlike voice interrupted his thoughts over the comm channel. “Make certain all power systems are shut down,” she said, “and seal the containment field.”

Kyp flicked a row of switches. “Already done.” He heard the muffled thump of hull against hull as Wedge brought the armored transport against the Sun Crusher.

“Magnetic fields in place, Kyp,” Wedge said. “Open the hatch and come on over.”

“Setting the timer,” Kyp said. He activated the autopilot, dimmed the lights in the cockpit, and clambered toward the small hatch. He opened it and met Wedge’s waiting arms as the smiling dark-haired man helped Kyp into the transport.

They sealed the Sun Crusher behind them, then disengaged the docking connection. Wedge moved back to the pilot’s seat of the armored transport and flopped into the cockpit chair beside the wispy-looking Qwi Xux.

Qwi sat strapped in with crash restraints. Her pale-blue skin looked splotchy, and she was obviously filled with anxiety. Wedge nudged the attitude-control thrusters and swung the armored transport around so they could watch. The elongated crystal shape of the Sun Crusher increased its distance, drifting closer to the gravitational jaws of Yavin.

Kyp hunkered between Wedge and Qwi, watching through the viewport as the Sun Crusher followed its preprogrammed course. Kyp could see the torus-shaped resonance-field generator at the bottom of the ship’s long spike.

The Sun Crusher dwindled to a mere speck that approached the chaotic storms of Yavin. He breathed a sigh of relief to know that this weapon would never be used to destroy any star system.

Qwi sat thin-lipped, silent, intense. Wedge reached over to pat her arm, and she jumped.

Kyp continued to concentrate on the Sun Crusher, watching the speck. He was afraid to look away because he might lose the ship against the titanic field of orange-colored clouds.

He saw the shape plunge into the upper atmosphere, plowing down on its unalterable course toward the planetary core. He imagined the Sun Crusher streaking deeper and deeper into the dense atmosphere. Scorching heat generated by atmospheric friction would throw off ripples and sonic booms as the Sun Crusher went down, down to the gas giant’s diamond-thick core.

“Well,” Wedge said, sounding cheerful, “we never have to worry about that thing again.”

Qwi’s elfin face seemed to be a catalog of contradictory expressions. She fluttered the lashes of her indigo eyes.

“It’s for the best,” Kyp agreed, mumbling his words.

Wedge ignited the thrusters of the armored transport and arced them away from close orbit to the fringes of the system of moons. “Well, Qwi and I are due to go inspect the reparation work on Vortex. Still want to go down to the jungle moon, Kyp?” Wedge said.

Kyp nodded, somewhat uneasy but eager to begin a new phase of his life. “Yes,” he answered quietly; then drawing a deep breath, he said, “Yes!” to show his enthusiasm. “Master Skywalker is waiting for me.”

Wedge turned back to the craft’s controls, arrowing for the tiny emerald circle that was the fourth moon of Yavin. He flashed a grin. “Well then, Kyp, may the Force be with you.”

Followed by his group of students, Luke Skywalker emerged from the great Massassi temple to watch the arrival of the transport and their new Jedi student.

Luke had told them all of Kyp’s coming. They had responded with measured enthusiasm, glad to have another trainee among their number, yet tempered by the clinging memory of Gantoris’s dark and fiery death.

A rectangular ship emblazoned with the scooped blue sign of the New Republic approached through the hazy skies. Its tracking lights flickered on, and broad landing struts extended.

Artoo trundled to the side of the landing grid in front of the Great Temple. Luke approached where the ship was about to set down. Blasts of repulsorlift jets fluttered his hood and ruffled his hair. Luke stared at the ship, blinking grit from his eyes until the transport came to rest.

The boarding ramp extended, and Wedge Antilles stepped out, reaching behind him to help the bluish female scientist descend.

Luke raised his left hand in greeting and turned his attention to the young man emerging from the craft. Kyp Durron was a wiry eighteen-year-old full of energy and eagerness, toughened from years of labor in the spice mines of Kessel.

In the mines Kyp had received a small initiation into the Force through another prisoner there, the fallen Jedi woman Vima-Da-Boda. Kyp had instinctively used those skills to help Han and Chewbacca escape from Kessel and from the Maw Installation. When Luke had tested the young man for Jedi potential, the strength of Kyp’s response had thrown Luke backward.

Luke had been waiting for a student like this to come to his academy.

Kyp stepped down the landing platform, averting his eyes at first; but then he paused and looked up to stare into Luke’s eyes. Luke saw an intelligence, a quick wit, and a quick temper, survival instincts born from years of struggle—but he also saw unshakable determination. That was the most important factor in a Jedi trainee.

“Welcome, Kyp Durron,” Luke said.

“I’m ready, Master Skywalker,” Kyp answered. “Teach me the Jedi ways.”