ON JAINA’S FIRST VISIT TO THE OFFICES OF SENATOR LUEWET WUUL, she had sat in the plush chairs and enjoyed a snifter of rare burtalle. Now the mugs resting on the handsome borlestone conference table contained cold caf and warm water. The air had gone stale with the smell of nervous sweat and half-eaten sandwiches, and the ventilation system was struggling to remove the heat of all the bodies packed into the meeting room. But it was what lay outside the room, visible through the floor-to-ceiling viewport, that troubled Jaina.

The gleaming cylinder of the Galactic Justice Center, which had been shuddering gently as she left, was now swaying. She knew that Coruscant’s skytowers were designed to withstand tremors far more violent than what she was seeing, but she still didn’t like it. Had the cause been a simple groundquake, the rest of Fellowship Plaza would have been shaking, too. This looked like something far more sinister—something involving Abeloth.

Jaina felt a gentle pull in the Force. She looked over to see Corran Horn nodding toward an empty seat on the near side of the table, where most of the Jedi Council sat in a semicircle to either side of Luke. With Kyp Durron, Kyle Katarn, Cilghal, Saba Sebatyne, Octa Ramis, and Barratk’l also present, only Kam and Tionne Solusar—who were supervising the students on Shedu Maad—were absent. Seated along the far side of the table, more or less across from the Jedi Masters, were an equal number of military and civilian dignitaries, including Admiral Nek Bwua’tu, his dapper uncle Eramuth, Senator Luewet Wuul, Admiral Gavin Darklighter, and a haggard, sunken-eyed Wynn Dorvan.

Still, it did not occur to Jaina that the empty seat had been saved for her until she began to make her way toward it and found herself squeezing past a long line of assistants forced to stand along the wall. There were military adjutants, bureaucratic assistants, and—much to her delight and surprise—four Jedi Knights whom she would have loved to pepper with questions.

Instead, Jaina had to content herself with a quick smile and a pair of arm squeezes as she slipped past Lowbacca and Tekli, who responded with whispered words of congratulations on her promotion. She was dying to ask where Raynar was, of course. But, with the meeting already in progress, it would have been unthinkably rude to start a conversation on the side.

Standing directly behind the chair that had been saved for Jaina were two Jedi whom she was even more relieved to see—Valin and Jysella Horn. Like her, they looked like they had been pulled from the bacta tank early, with bruises and half-healed lacerations still visible on their faces and necks. She had heard during one of her rare breaks from the bacta tank that they had made contact with the space marines, but this was her first confirmation that they had actually escaped the Temple alive. Clearly, the pair had had a hard time after the strike team split, and the absence of the third member of their squad gave Jaina a sinking feeling. She raised her brow and mouthed a one-word question: Ben?

Valin shook his head, then shrugged to indicate that they didn’t know. Jaina nodded and reached out to the pair in the Force, trying to let them feel how happy she was to see them in one piece. They responded with a smile, and, as she turned to take her seat, she sneaked a quick glance at Luke. There were purple circles beneath his eyes, and his face was clouded by fear and uncertainty—no doubt on behalf of both Ben and the Jedi Order itself. But there was no hint of anguish or grief—and Jaina would have sensed both, had Luke been unable to feel his son’s living presence in the Force.

Jaina slipped into her seat, assuming her place on the Jedi Council with no pomp or ceremony, just a couple of nods from across the table and a whispered “Welcome, Master Solo” from the Master next to her, Octa Ramis. And it seemed to Jaina that was exactly how the role should be assumed, not in celebration or pride, but with a humble willingness to serve.

All eyes were fixed directly opposite Jaina, where Mirax Horn was standing in a gap between Master Barratk’l and Eramuth Bwua’tu. Dressed in the gray uniform of a brigadier general, she was holding a datapad in one hand, but speaking without any need to consult her notes.

“… who have escaped the Temple are spreading out across Coruscant and launching soft-target terrorist attacks,” Mirax said. “Of course, BAMR News is blaming the violence on ‘Jedi spice cartels,’ and they’re urging their viewers to take arms against the Jedi and any ‘corrupt’ security personnel aiding the ‘spice smugglers.’ ”

Eramuth Bwua’tu twisted his muzzle into a snarl, then tilted his gray-furred head so that he was looking up at Mirax out of one eye.

“And how effective are these lies, my dear?” the Bothan asked.

“There have been a few civilian attacks against Jedi,” Mirax replied. “But most of the other news outlets are taking a more balanced approach, attributing the violence to a rogue sect of Force-users.”

“They’re not even using the term Sith?” Kyle Katarn asked.

“There has been some speculation,” Mirax said. “But most of the public doesn’t really understand what Sith are, and those who do are accustomed to thinking of them as loners—either Jedi gone bad, or sinister geniuses hiding in plain sight.”

“So the population isn’t doing anything to help us, either?” Kyp Durron asked.

Mirax shook her head. “Not much,” she said. “We’ve been getting a little cooperation through the security forces—primarily reports of suspicious behavior. But most Coruscanti don’t seem to know what to believe. They’re just keeping their heads down and trying to stay clear of any trouble at all.”

“Which is difficult, now that our fight with the Sith has spread beyond the Temple,” Luke said. “How bad is the violence getting? Are we starting to contain it at all?”

Mirax pretended to consult her datapad, but Jaina could feel in her Force aura that she was simply gathering the strength to deliver bad news. Finally, she lowered the datapad and gazed around the table.

“Not even close,” she said. “When the space marine volunteers entered through the exhaust shaft, the Sith had far too much time to react. We think at least three hundred escaped and spread into the rest of the city, and their only objective seems to be to create as much chaos and destruction as possible. So far, they’ve launched over three thousand attacks, and they’ve completely destroyed seven hundred skytowers. We’re already estimating civilian casualties at over three million.”

“And how many Sith have we taken out?” Corran asked.

“Twenty-two,” Mirax replied. “But we’ve lost fifteen Jedi doing it. Security force casualties are running into the thousands—even the Special Weapons Teams are no match for Sith Sabers.”

An unhappy silence fell over the table, for the conclusion was clear: so far, the enemy was winning this part of the fight, and there was little hope of turning the tide of battle anytime soon.

After a moment, Luke said, “We all know you’re doing everything possible under the circumstances.” He glanced out the window at the Galactic Justice Center—which was beginning to sway so wildly now that the deck of Fellowship Plaza could be seen buckling around it—then asked, “What do the reports say about how the skytowers collapse?”

“It’s usually a well-placed explosion or a hot-burning fire,” she said, following his gaze. “We don’t have any reports of buildings being shaken down, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“It is, but I still don’t like what we’re seeing over there,” Luke said. He turned toward the government side of the table. “It might be wise to evacuate the Galactic Justice Center.”

Both Bwua’tus and Senator Wuul nodded, and Dorvan said, “Would you please give the order, General Horn?”

“Of course,” Mirax said. She glanced back to Luke. “Before I see to it, there is one more thing I’d like to mention.”

“Yes?” Luke asked.

“We’ve received several reports of … well, of an observer,” she said. “A tall man with a rugged, tattooed face showed up at hand-to-hand combat near Fellowship Plaza. So far, he’s done nothing but watch, but when Jedi Saav’etu noticed a dark side aura and tried to take him into custody, he disarmed her. Then he said something very odd: ‘Not yet, Jedi. Abeloth first.’ ”

“These tattoos,” Luke asked, “did they radiate from around his eyes?”

“Jedi Saav’etu described it as a spray pattern with the eyes at the center,” Mirax replied. “Then you know who he is?”

Luke shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “But I caught a glimpse of him during the trouble we had leaving the spaceport. He certainly didn’t appear to be a member of the Lost Tribe.”

“Then I’ll put out a ‘report location only’ bulletin on him,” she said. “We certainly have no need to go out looking for a fight right now.”

“I think that’s best,” Luke agreed.

“Thank you.” Mirax glanced around the table, then said, “If I’m not needed here, I’ll see to the Justice Center evacuation.”

Luke dipped his chin and said, “Thank you, Mirax. We’ll send you some additional Jedi support as soon as we’re able.” As she stepped away from the table, he turned his attention to Gavin Darklighter. “How soon can we start withdrawing our combination teams from the Temple?”

Gavin stared at the table a moment, gathering his thoughts, then looked up. “We’re making progess.” Judging by the dark circles beneath his eyes, he had not slept since the assault on the Temple had begun. “We control everything above Level Three-seventy and below the Pinnacle.”

“Above Three-seventy?” Dorvan asked. “Then you haven’t captured the computer core?”

Darklighter shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Then you have captured nothing.” Dorvan’s voice was pitched high, and his eyes were bulging. He glanced around the table. “Does no one understand? The Beloved Queen is living in the computer, too. She is the computer!”

Gavin nodded wearily. “You did mention that—several times—in the post-rescue debriefing, Chief Dorvan. And we’ll deal with the computer core just as soon as we’re able to attack it.” He shifted his attention back to the others. “In the meantime, we’re splitting the Sith forces that remain in the Temple, driving them down into the sublevels and up into the Pinnacle. We’ve encountered a lot of resistance in the upper levels, and frankly, if Chief Dorvan hadn’t told us that Abeloth was in the computer core, we would be inclined to believe that she is somewhere near Pinnacle Platform.”

The message was clear—whatever Dorvan believed, the space marines were pretty sure that they had located Abeloth on Pinnacle Platform. Of course, after her conversation with Tahiri, Jaina realized that it was all too likely that both Dorvan and the space marines were right.

“And why would you believe that she is at the Pinnacle, Admiral?” Luke asked.

A look of pain came over Gavin’s face. “Because we just lost three blastboats of Void Jumpers there, and even Sith gunners aren’t that good.”

Luke nodded. Jaina was relieved to see him turn his gaze toward the Galactic Justice Center. Obviously, he could see what was happening to the skytower, and he had made the same connection as Jaina—that the center was in a direct line of sight from Pinnacle Platform.

“We have to make another run at the platform,” he said. “But this time, we’ll send an all-Jedi unit. We’ll select a team after the meeting. Until then, would you task someone to prepare a squadron of blastboats for us?”

“Of course,” Gavin replied. He sat down, then looked over his shoulder and motioned an aide forward.

Even before Gavin had begun to issue the orders, Dorvan complained, “I see what you’re doing, you know. But it’s a mistake to ignore me. I’ve been closer to the Beloved Queen than any of you. I know what she can do.”

“Nobody is ignoring you, Chief Dorvan,” Jaina said, leaning forward so she could look Dorvan in the eye. “At least I’m not. If you say she’s living in the computer core, I absolutely believe you.”

“So do I,” Luke assured him. “We know for a fact that she had contact with Callista Ming, a former Jedi who once merged her Force presence with a computer. So we have every reason to believe you.”

Their reassurances seemed to calm Dorvan.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m glad to hear that. Abeloth may be on Pinnacle Platform, but that doesn’t mean that she’s not—”

“In the computer core, too,” Jaina finished, realizing that Dorvan already knew what she had only recently surmised. She looked around the table at the other Masters. “Unfortunately, Abeloth can inhabit more than one body at a time.”

An uneasy hush fell over the room, and all eyes swung to Jaina.

“On the way over here, I spoke with Tahiri Veila.” Jaina focused her attention on Corran and Luke. “It turns out that, at the same time we were fighting our Sith Abeloth in the Temple ventilation ducts, Tahiri and Boba Fett were fighting another Abeloth on Hagamoor Three. They destroyed theirs with a thermal detonator … at exactly two minutes before midday GST.”

The eyes of both Masters lit with comprehension, and Luke said, “The same time ours suddenly lost her strength and fled the fight.”

“So the two bodies were linked,” Corran said. “Kill one, weaken the other?”

Jaina nodded. “I think so,” she said. “Tahiri knew the exact time because she was expecting a turbolaser strike at midday, and we knew the exact time because we had to blow the shield generator at midday. Our Abeloth was winning—until the precise moment they killed theirs.”

“That would explain what happened to Dyon Stadd in the Maw,” Luke said. “I knew I was killing Abeloth when I fought her there—”

“But you were killing just one part,” Saba said. “The part that was in the body of Dyon Stadd.”

Luke nodded. “Exactly. And when that part died, the part in Abeloth’s other body was weakened, too—the same way that the Abeloth here in the Temple was weakened when Fett and Tahiri killed the one on Hagamoor Three.”

“Then I fear we may be running out of time,” Cilghal said, looking out the viewport. The Galactic Justice Center was swaying more wildly than ever now, and pieces of debris could be seen falling from its balconies into a series of dark, smoking chasms that had opened in Fellowship Plaza around its base. “Each time we have killed one of Abeloth’s bodies, the other part has fled to hide and recuperate.”

“That’s right,” Kyp Durron agreed, addressing himself to Luke. “When you killed the part in Dyon’s body, the other part left the Maw and went to Pydyr to recover. When you killed another body on Pydyr, the second Abeloth fled to Nam Chorios to recuperate. If she stays true to form, she’ll be leaving Coruscant any minute now—if she’s not already gone.”

“A good observation,” Kyle Katarn said. “But the pattern is rather different now.”

“Different how?” asked Nek Bwua’tu. “Because there are three parts this time?”

“For starters, yes,” Kyle said. “First, we have the part that Tahiri and Fett killed on Hagamoor Three. Second, we have the part that Luke and his team fought in the ventilation system. Presumably, she is the part that’s now on Pinnacle Platform. Third, we have the part that Chief Dorvan reports is living inside the computer core.”

“And if there can be three parts, why not four?” asked Nek. “Why not five, or a hundred, scattered across the entire galaxy?”

“Because all of Abeloth’s bodies are part of one Force entity, yes?” Barratk’l asked in her gravelly voice. “She has grown much in power since we discovered her, but each time we kill a part, she is weakened. So there are limits. As she grows stronger, those limits rise. And now she has three bodies.”

“That we know of,” Kyle reminded her.

“Yes, but there is a correlation, or she would not need to hide from us when a part of her has been killed,” Barratk’l said. “So we must ask ourselves this: what, exactly, are we harming when we kill a body she has taken?”

She turned an expectant eye toward Cilghal, who—as the Jedi Order’s most knowledgeable healer—was the most likely source for an answer. The Mon Calamari nodded and raised a finger to indicate that she was contemplating the question. When she finally looked up, her bulbous eyes looked uncertain.

“The answer must lie in the Force,” she said. “But it is difficult to grasp without knowing how she takes control of her victims. If it was just Force telepathy, or a simple exertion of will, she wouldn’t be harmed when one of her bodies is killed. She would simply withdraw and find another.”

“I saw her take Lydea Pagorski,” Dorvan said tentatively. “Would it help if I tried to describe the process?”

All eyes swung toward him, and Cilghal said, “Very much, Chief Dorvan.”

Dorvan’s face went pale and blank, the way torture victims’ faces did when they relived their torment. But he swallowed hard and said, “I’ll do my best.”

“Just take your time and tell us everything you can remember,” Cilghal said. “No detail is too small.”

Dorvan nodded. “It seemed very fast,” he said. “Abeloth was using Roki Kem’s body at the time, but it wasn’t holding up well. The skin was starting to peel, and her eyes were starting to bulge.”

Jaina saw Luke exchange glances with Saba and Corran. No doubt they were all thinking the same thing that she was—that Abeloth had been hiding in plain sight the whole time they were searching for her.

“Those are very helpful details, Chief Dorvan,” Cilghal assured him. “Please continue.”

Dorvan closed his eyes, then said, “First, Roki Kem told Pagorski that she was simply going to erase her memory of what she had seen inside the Temple. Pagorski believed her, so she didn’t resist. Then Kem grabbed Pagorski’s head and locked gazes with her. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the air started to shimmer between them. Pagorski’s eyes opened, and she looked terrified.”

Dorvan paused and began to shake as he recalled what happened next. “Kem’s fingers started to grow, then her arms suddenly dissolved into tentacles, and she … well, she became Abeloth. I mean, she always was Abeloth, but now I could see her real nature.”

“Can you describe her?” Cilghal asked.

“She had coarse yellow hair and eyes that weren’t really eyes—just silver points of light set deep in the sockets,” he said. “Her mouth was more like a deep gash. It stretched most of the way across her face.”

“No doubt about it, that’s Abeloth,” Luke said. “What happened next?”

“Well, Pagorski started to scream, then Abeloth’s tentacles shot down her throat,” Dorvan said, still keeping his eyes closed. “And into her ears and nostrils. Pagorski made very horrible sounds, like she was gagging and choking, and the tentacles started to pulse. After a few seconds, Pagorski just collapsed and hung from the tentacles, looking terrified.”

Dorvan fell silent, no doubt lost in a memory more terrifying than any nightmare.

After a few moments, Cilghal prompted gently, “And that was the end of it?”

Dorvan shook his head. “That was just the beginning,” he said. “After a while, the terror finally drained from Pagorski’s face. I thought maybe she had died. But then her face turned so pale that I could see the tentacles writhing around under her skin, pumping something dark and viscous through her nose—up into her sinuses—and down into her throat. I didn’t think there was any way she could live through that, but she did. I could see her chest rising and falling as she breathed, and she never—well, she never went slack, the way dead people do. Finally, she seemed to get stronger, and she sort of looked at me and smiled. But it wasn’t just Pagorski looking. She was still in there, and I could see in her eyes that she was going crazy with fear. But Abeloth was in there, too—and she was enjoying it.”

“As though she were feeding on it?” Luke asked.

Dorvan opened his eyes and thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Exactly like that. She was feeding on the fear.”

“We’ve seen that before,” Luke said. “On Pydyr, Abeloth seemed to be creating an aura of fear so she could draw on the dark side energies it released. We’re fairly certain it’s how she rejuvenates herself.”

“A Force being that feeds on fear?” Dorvan looked through the viewport, out over the battle havoc that filled Fellowship Plaza, and shook his head in open despair. “In that case, Master Skywalker, you had better kill her soon—while it is still possible.”

“That’s what we’re doing here, Chief—trying to figure out how,” Kyp said. “What else can you tell us?”

“Nothing more about taking Pagorski’s body,” Dorvan said. “I’m afraid my memory after that is … well, muddled. But I think you should hear what happened when I killed her.”

A dozen brows rose, and Saba Sebatyne sissed and slapped her palm on the arm of her chair. “Thank you, Chief. This one needed a joke!”

Barratk’l shot a furry glower across the table at the Barabel. “I think the Chief is serious, Master Sebatyne.” She turned to Dorvan. “Yes?”

Dorvan nodded, but shot a self-deprecating smile in Saba’s direction. “Master Sebatyne has every right to laugh,” he said. “You see, Abeloth wanted me to kill her.”

Most of the beings at the table once again began to look at Dorvan as though he were having a breakdown, but Kyle Katarn merely cocked his head in curiosity.

“I’m afraid we’re not really following you, Chief,” he said. “Why would Abeloth want you to kill one of her bodies?”

Dorvan shrugged. “Maybe because it was wearing out, or maybe because she was going to enter the computer core anyway,” he said. “All I can tell you is that I stole a hold-out blaster and put a couple of bolts through her head. The next thing I know, I’m flying into a wall—and I discover that she has manifested herself out in the computer core. I realized later that the whole thing was just a trap for Ben.”

Luke shifted forward in his chair. “For Ben?” he asked. “What makes you think it was just for Ben?”

“Because Ben is the one they took.” Dorvan looked over at the Horns, then said, “But maybe you should ask Valin or Jysella. They were in a better state of mind than I to make that judgment.”

“There’s no doubt about it,” Valin said, stepping forward. “Looking back, Abeloth was trying to isolate Ben from the moment we started down the corridor. She could have taken us all out along the way, but she wanted Ben alive.”

“I’d even say that she might have been driving us toward the computer core just to set up Ben’s capture,” Jysella agreed. “Everything was timed to the millisecond, then once she had Ben, she left the rest of us alone.”

“Which isn’t to say she actually let us go, in case anyone’s wondering,” Valin said. “She just left us to the Sith and didn’t expend any more of her own effort on us.”

Jaina understood the need for the clarification. Valin and Jysella Horn had been among the first Jedi Knights to become infected with the Force psychosis when Abeloth began to reach out from her prison in the Maw, and they had actually become her spies for a time. Fortunately, they had been cured after Abeloth’s defeat on Nam Chorios, and everyone assumed the cure was complete. Still, had the Masters known where Abeloth was hiding when they were preparing to storm the Temple, the Horn siblings were the last two Jedi Knights they would have sent in with the initial wave.

“And Abeloth didn’t reach out to you at all while you were inside the Temple?” Cilghal asked. “You had no episodes of paranoia or confusion?”

“We didn’t say that,” Valin replied with a grin. “We’re still trying to figure out why she took Ben and ignored us. It seems kind of suspicious.”

“I think I may know the answer,” Jaina said. She turned to Dorvan. “You said the body you killed in the computer core was wearing out?”

“That’s right,” Dorvan replied. “She was pretty emaciated by then.”

“And this was Roki Kem’s body, correct?”

“That’s right,” Dorvan replied. “Didn’t I say that?”

“I just wanted to be sure.” Jaina looked back to the rest of the table. “When I spoke to Tahiri Veila, she mentioned that Pagorski’s body was deteriorating, too. In fact, Tahiri said the only reason she and Fett survived was because Abeloth didn’t want to kill Tahiri. She wanted to trade Pagorski’s body for Tahiri’s.”

“Of course,” Cilghal said. “Pagorski and Kem weren’t Force-users. Their bodies would not tolerate so much Force energy.”

“That doesn’t explain the focus on Ben,” Kyle said. “If it was just a matter of being a Force-user, Abeloth could have taken Valin or Jysella—or one of her Sith servants—just as easily. It’s something else … something that makes Ben special.”

“Well, he is a Skywalker,” Kyp Durron pointed out. “The grandson of the Chosen One.”

“And Jaina is a granddaughter of the Chosen One,” Luke countered. “I’m more inclined to think it has something to do with Shelter. Maybe Abeloth just wants him because he withdrew from her touch when he was a toddler.”

Kyp shook his head. “Sorry, but no,” he said. “Jaina is Han’s daughter just as much as Leia’s, and that means only one parent is a Force-user. Ben is the son of two parents who were both very strong in the Force. No offense to Jaina, but Ben has Special Destiny written all over him.”

Luke’s face fell, and Jaina could tell by the silence that followed that he saw the wisdom of Kyp’s suggestion—as did everyone else at the table. Abeloth had gone after Ben because of what Ben was … and that meant she had something special in mind for him.

“Okay,” Luke said at last. “Abeloth wants Ben for a reason. Any ideas what that might be?”

A chirrupy voice spoke out from the wall behind Jaina. “No specific ideas,” Tekli said. “But the time has come to discuss what we learned about Abeloth from the Killiks.”

“By all means, if you think it will help.” Luke waved Tekli and Lowbacca toward the open space on the other side of the table, then turned to the rest of the attendees and explained, “Jedi Lowbacca and Tekli have just returned from a mission to learn what the Killiks know about Abeloth. I understand that Jedi Thul was forced to remain behind in exchange for the information, but from the little I’ve heard about it, they have uncovered some very interesting history.”

As Tekli stepped to the table, a sudden jolt shook the room, then quickly diminished into a series of sporadic shudders. Dorvan and several of the non-military personnel began to eye the floor with uncertainty and fear. Nek Bwua’tu merely cleared his throat and muttered something about a blasted groundquake, but Jaina—and no doubt the other Jedi in the room—felt the wave of fear that came from the Galactic Justice Center. When she looked out the viewport, she saw that fissures had begun to appear in Fellowship Plaza’s undulating deck, and now there were long columns of smoke rising through the cracks.

“Maybe we’d better rush that strike on Pinnacle Platform,” Kyp suggested, “before the Galactic Justice Center collapses into the undercity.”

“Don’t you mean before we finish a proper evaluation of the battlefield?” Nek Bwua’tu countered. “Rushing into a fight half blind has never saved a blasted thing, son. We’ll all be better off if the Masters stay here and do their jobs. You’re leaders. And leaders are supposed to plan and think—not rush into an ambush every time the enemy does something unexpected.”

Kyp’s eyes widened at the admiral’s harsh tone, but he accepted the admonition with a graceful nod. “Valid points, Admiral. I yield to your wisdom … and Master Skywalker’s orders.”

“I agree with Admiral Bwua’tu,” Luke said. “I’ve had my fill of walking into Abeloth’s traps. We need to finish this briefing and come up with a plan.”

Luke nodded to Tekli, who was standing at the table, barely tall enough for her short-snouted face to appear above the edge. Behind her, Lowbacca loomed over the entire group like the furred giant he was, holding an oversized datapad in his hands.

Tekli cleared her throat, then said, “Given the time constraints, this will be a brief summary of what we have learned. See-Threepio is currently loading a full videographic account of everything we discovered into the Jedi Archives.”

“Thank you,” Luke said. “I’m sure that will be helpful if we need to explore Abeloth’s history in more detail.”

Tekli looked up at him out of a single eye. “Trust me, Master Skywalker, you will need to explore it.”

She snapped her fingers, and a panel of carved stone, done in low relief, appeared on the display. The image depicted a jungle paradise, with a steep valley wall in the background and a swamp in the foreground. In the middle ground was a clearing with an erupting geyser. Three ghostly figures were floating in the vapor cloud: a luminous-looking woman, a craggy warrior type, and a gaunt, bearded man with a fatherly bearing.

“This is a panel from the Histories of Thuruht,” Tekli explained. “The Histories detail—among many other things—the birth of a family of Force entities whom the Killiks call the Ones. The young woman, they call the Daughter.”

As Tekli spoke, Lowbacca changed the image to another panel. This one depicted a pale-haired woman running through a forest in full bloom, followed by clouds of butterflies and swarms of Killiks.

“The Daughter seems to be associated with the light side of the Force,” Tekli explained. “The Killiks could not explain the exact nature of the association, but my best guess is that she is an embodiment of its nature.”

Lowbacca changed the image again, this time to a panel depicting a powerful-looking man in dark armor, marching through a dead forest.

“The Son is associated with the dark side of the Force,” Tekli continued. “Again, the Killiks were unable to explain exactly what this means. But it seems obvious that he embodies its devouring, deadly nature.”

Lowbacca tapped a key, and the datapad showed a panel with a river meandering down its center, dividing the luminous forest on one bank from the dark forest on the other. In the back of the image, a gaunt man was standing on the balcony of a cliffside monastery. He was looking out over both forests, his arms spread so that one hand was suspended above the dark aspect and one over the luminous.

“The Father is the Keeper of the Balance,” Tekli said. “There were several other panels showing him trying to keep the peace between the Son and the Daughter.”

“I see,” Luke said. “And these beings—the Ones—are they the Celestials the Killiks claim to have served in the past?”

Tekli shook her head. “I don’t believe so, at least not the way you mean,” she said. “Thuruht says they are what the Celestials become.”

“And what does Thuruht say the Celestials are?” Corran asked.

“They don’t, really,” Tekli replied. “They claim it’s impossible to explain the Celestials, because no mortal mind can grasp their true nature.”

With a long groan, Lowbacca noted that the Killiks believed the Celestials were in the Force. But they were adamant about saying that the Ones didn’t emerge from the Force, because the Force was all around us, in us, and was us—and any being with two brains could clearly see that it was impossible to emerge from what one was. Tekli translated for those who didn’t understand Shryiiwook.

“Soooo …” Kyp sighed. “The usual Killik mugwump.”

“Well, it did make some sense at the time,” Tekli replied. “Perhaps it will seem more logical in the video record.”

“No doubt,” Kyle said. “But you said this would help explain Abeloth. Are we to take it that she is this Daughter? That the Son was able to draw her over to the dark side?”

“Not at all,” Tekli replied. “To understand Abeloth, you need to think about what’s missing from the family.”

“You mean the Mother, of course,” Luke said. “Abeloth is the other parent?”

Tekli snapped her fingers again, and Lowbacca changed the image on the datapad. This time, the panel contained a new figure, a young woman barely older than the Daughter, with long flowing hair, a wide smile, and twinkling eyes. She was obviously supposed to be some sort of servant, for the Son and the Daughter were looking away while they held glasses up to be filled from an ewer in her hands. But the Father was looking at her with obvious warmth, returning her smile as she poured for him.

“Abeloth is the servant who became the Mother,” Tekli said. “At first, she seemed to bring joy and harmony to the family.”

As Tekli spoke, Lowbacca ran through a series of images depicting Abeloth keeping the Son and the Daughter busy with games and chores, doting on the Father, even stepping in to channel the Son’s destructive energies into useful tasks. Before long, she seemed to be a full member of the family, eating at the Father’s side and holding her glass for the Son to fill.

“But as time passed, Abeloth seemed to age while the rest of the family stayed young,” Tekli explained.

The image on Lowbacca’s datapad showed a much older Abeloth, one who appeared old enough to be a proper wife to the Father. The next panel portrayed an aged and wrinkled Abeloth, standing at one end of a small temple complex—a complex that resembled exactly the one in Jaina’s dream of Ben and Vestara fighting.

The Force roiled beneath a powerful wave of astonishment and shock, and Jaina looked over to find Luke and all of the other Masters studying first the image, then one another, and she realized that she was not the only one who had experienced the dream. Whether they had all seen the same fight was impossible to say, but it was very clear that every Master present recognized the temple complex.

Jaina felt Luke reaching out in the Force, radiating a sense of calmness and patience, and she quickly understood the message. Say nothing until the meaning grows clear.

The images on Lowbacca’s datapad continued to advance, now showing the Father arguing with the Son and the Daughter, gesturing wildly while boulders and six-legged lizards whirled through the air around them.

“As Abeloth aged, she appears to have become a disruptive influence,” Tekli said. “We think she may have been growing resentful of her mortality, since the rest of the family never seems to age.”

Lowbacca changed the image on the datapad, to a panel that showed an elderly Abeloth sneaking a drink from the Font of Power while the Father hurled Force lightning at both the Son and Daughter. In the next image, a much younger-looking Abeloth was swimming in the Pool of Knowledge, looking sly and defiant as the Father used the Force to pull her from the water.

“In her desire to remain with her immortal family, she did the Forbidden—and paid a terrible price.”

Lowbacca tapped a key, and a new panel appeared on the datapad. In the heart of the temple’s courtyard stood a much-changed Abeloth, her hair now coarse and long, her nose flattened, and her once sparkling eyes so sunken and dark that all that could be seen of them were two pinpoints of light. She was raising her arms toward a cowering Daughter and a glowering Son, with long tentacles lashing out from where her fingers should have been. A furious Father was stepping forward to shield them, one hand pointing toward the open end of the temple and the other reaching out to intercept her tentacled fingers.

“The Killiks call Abeloth the Bringer of Chaos,” Tekli said, motioning for Lowbacca to lower the datapad. “They seem to view her as the counterpart to the Father’s role as Keeper of the Balance, and associate her with strife and violence.”

“Am I understanding you correctly?” Eramuth Bwua’tu asked. “Are you saying that Abeloth is some sort of war goddess?”

“That would be a great oversimplification,” Tekli replied. “The Killiks claim that war is part of the galaxy’s cycle of change. As they explain it, sometimes war grows too powerful, and that’s when Abeloth comes—to destroy the old order and make room for a new one.”

“So you’re saying Coruscant’s destruction is part of some Celestial Plan?” Dorvan asked. He looked pointedly out the viewport. The smoke rising through the crevices around the Galactic Justice Center had grown so thick that it was starting to drift across Fellowship Plaza, obscuring even the majestic pyramid of the Jedi Temple. Then he glared back across the table at Luke. “That the Galactic Alliance has no choice but to accept its destruction?”

“There’s always a choice,” Luke said. “Remember, this is the Killiks’ view of the galaxy. And we know that Abeloth has been imprisoned before.” He looked back to Tekli. “Why don’t we move ahead to what we know about stopping her.”

Tekli’s tiny ears pivoted slightly outward. “Unfortunately, Master Skywalker, I don’t believe the Killiks are going to be much help in that regard,” she said. “At least not to us.”

Lowbacca contributed a long rumble, explaining that while Thuruht’s entire purpose of existence seemed to be imprisoning Abeloth, they needed the Ones to guide their efforts. From what he and Tekli had surmised, the Son and the Daughter agreed on only one thing—that it angered them to see Abeloth destroy civilizations they had spent millennia cultivating in their own image. Eventually, the pair would form a pact and emerge from seclusion to stop her, and Thuruht expected to spend the next century or so building up its numbers so the hive would be ready when it was called into service.

“So it’s really the Ones who imprisoned Abeloth the last time?” Kyle asked. “And also created Centerpoint Station?”

“That is how the Killiks remember it,” Tekli said. “But only the Son and the Daughter are involved. They seem to take more of an interest in the state of the galaxy than the Father.”

“Took, I’m afraid,” Luke said. “If Thuruht can’t imprison Abeloth without the Son and the Daughter, the hive will be waiting a lot longer than a century for a call to service.”

Tekli’s nose twitched in confusion. “Then you have heard of the Ones, Master Skywalker?”

“Not by that name,” Luke replied. “But when Yoda was training me in the swamps of Dagobah, he told me about a strange mission that Obi-Wan and my father had undertaken during the Clone Wars. Apparently, they were drawn to a free-floating artifact called the Mortis monolith and transported to a world very much like the one depicted in the Histories of Thuruht.”

“You’re saying that they met the Ones?” Kyp asked. “Are you sure?”

Luke shot him an impatient look. “It’s very hard to be sure of anything involving the Celestials, Master Durron,” he said. “But yes, I do believe the trio Yoda described were the Ones.”

“And?” Kyp demanded.

“At the time, I thought he was just making up a story, trying to make a point about not refusing my destiny.” Luke paused, then said, “But now …”

“You think he may have glimpsed something in your future,” Kyle said. “Something to do with Abeloth?”

Luke shrugged. “That might be a stretch,” he said. “But Yoda must have sensed that I would need to know about Mortis someday.”

“So are you going to tell us what Master Yoda said?” Jaina asked. She couldn’t contain herself, and she wasn’t the only one—every Jedi in the room was leaning toward Luke. “I mean, that is the reason you mentioned it, isn’t it?”

Luke nodded. “Of course,” he said. “But there isn’t a lot to tell. In Yoda’s story, Obi-Wan and Anakin Skywalker encountered the Father when he was dying. The Son and the Daughter were at odds because the Son wanted to take the Father’s place. The Father told Anakin that he had been chosen to assume the Father’s place—and keep the balance between the two siblings. When Anakin refused, matters came to a head. The Ones fought, all three were slain, and their world died with them.”

“And you didn’t think that was important?” Corran asked.

“I didn’t know Yoda was talking about the Ones,” Luke said, a bit defensively. “Or even what the Ones were.”

“It does sound more like a parable than an action report,” Kyle agreed. “I’m sure I would have assumed the same thing.”

“Are we sure it isn’t just a parable?” Kyp asked. He looked to Tekli and Lowbacca. “No offense, but we all know how muddled the Killik sense of history is.”

Saba slapped both palms on the table. “This one is certain. It explainz too much—why there is so much darknesz and change in the galaxy, why war comes so often and nothing stayz certain.” She glanced around the table, meeting the gaze of each Master in turn, then said, “The Force has no Balance.”

Jaina nodded, then said, “And it also explains what Abeloth wants with Ben.”

An uneasy silence fell over the table, and she realized that many of the other Jedi had not yet made the connection between the loss of the only family Abeloth had ever known—the Ones—and the terrible longing and loneliness that had made an imprisoned Force entity reach out to Ben and the other younglings who had been hidden at Shelter.

But Luke understood. That much was clear in the way his face had paled—and in the care he was taking to keep his Force presence damped down, lest his fear reverberate through the room like a thunderclap.

When the faces of most of the other Masters remained puzzled, he nodded to Jaina. “You said it first,” he said. “You explain.”

“It’s still just a guess,” she said. “I could be wrong.”

“Are you?” Luke asked.

Jaina thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I’m not.” She took a deep breath and addressed the others at the table. “Abeloth took Ben because she intends to re-create the … well, the Family of the Ones, for lack of a better name … on her own terms.”

An astonished rustle filled the room as beings shifted in their seats and stepped closer to the table.

Jaina gave the idea a moment to sink in, then continued, “Look, it doesn’t matter whether the Killiks are right about the Ones—or even whether Yoda is. The only thing that matters is what Abeloth believes. She’s trying to rebuild the family she lost.”

“I’m convinced,” Luke said, nodding. “It explains everything I’ve seen her do.”

“But with herself taking the Father’s place,” Kyle observed. “Though she may have wanted you to take the role for a time. That would explain why she tried to keep you and Ben from leaving Sinkhole Station.”

“Yeah, but then Luke kept killing Abeloth’s bodies,” Kyp observed. “After a while, she finally took the hint and decided she’d have the family on her own.”

“Probably,” Kyle agreed. “And it’s safe to assume that Abeloth would be a force of constant change in the galaxy, rather than stability.”

“She certainly wouldn’t bring much Balance to the Force,” Jaina agreed. “And Ben, obviously, will be the embodiment of the light side.”

“Clearly,” Corran said. “And Vestara Khai will embody the dark side.”

It was stated as a fact rather than a guess, and none of the Masters questioned his conclusion—no doubt because they had all felt the astonishment of the others when they saw the image on Lowbacca’s datapad. The hand of the Force was moving in this, and Jaina knew that all of the Masters felt it—even if they had not yet learned what it was doing.

When all of the Masters simply looked at one another and nodded, Luewet Wuul spoke from the other side of the table. “I hope you will forgive the foolish questions of one of the uninitiated, but … how? I know Jedi can use the Force to extend their lives, but isn’t this Abeloth supposed to be twenty-five thousand years old?”

“She is far older than that, Senator,” Tekli said. “The Histories of Thuruht have panels suggesting that Abeloth is at least a hundred thousand years old … but she started as a mortal.”

“We have already seen the answer,” Barratk’l said. “Abeloth was a mortal woman, yes? Then she drank from the Font of Power, and she swam in the Pool of Knowledge.”

Wuul’s cheek folds flattened in alarm. “Those are real?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Luke said. “And if Ben and Vestara drink from them …”

He let the sentence trail off, but Barratk’l finished it. “Then Ben and Vestara would become like her, yes? A family of Abeloths—with the Bringer of Chaos in charge.”

“Something like that,” Jaina agreed.

For a moment, no one said anything.

Then another groundquake hit, this one much more powerful than the first. The entire room began to shake violently, rattling caf cups and sending a decanter of fine burtalle crashing to the floor at the far end of the room. All eyes turned toward the Galactic Justice Center, where a two-hundred-meter fountain of white magma could be seen spraying up next to the gleaming cylinder, speckling its silvery skin with droplets of molten stone.

Saba braced her knuckles on the table, then rose and leaned forward to address her fellow Masters. “If the Ones are dead, then it seemz to this one we must all swear on our blood to destroy Abeloth.”

As she spoke, a gaping melt hole appeared in the side of the Justice Center, and the cylinder began to lean toward the interior of Fellowship Plaza.

“Because that egg eater is as mad as a blind shenbit,” she continued. “And the galaxy will not last a year with her on the loose.”

“I quite agree, Master Sebatyne,” Nek Bwua’tu said. He looked across the table, directly at Luke. “How would you feel about ordering a baradium strike on the Temple?”

Gavin Darklighter was the first to object. “While I still have space marines inside?”

“Withdrawing them would alert Abeloth to our plan, General,” Bwua’tu said. “And certainly, were I inside with an enemy like this, I would want my commander to do whatever it takes to destroy her.”

“As would their Jedi companions,” Luke said. “But I’m afraid that a baradium strike isn’t an option.”

“May I ask why not?” Eramuth inquired. “I realize that there’s a certain element of betrayal—”

“That’s not the problem,” Luke said. “I doubt any of us have a being inside who wouldn’t make the same sacrifice willingly, but there are other considerations.” He glanced quickly in Jaina’s direction. “The Solos are also inside.”

Jaina’s brow rose. “They are?” As surprised as she was, she didn’t understand why Luke was making her parents’ presence the critical factor in ruling out the baradium strike. Under the circumstances, they would have been the first to call it in on themselves—well, her mother would have been. Her father would have opted for a blaster duel at high noon. “I didn’t even know they were on the planet.”

“I’m afraid so,” Luke replied. “It’s a long story, but apparently they volunteered to drop Bazel Warv off at the entrance to the escape tunnel, and the Falcon was disabled in an ambush. Han and Leia escaped into the Temple … with Amelia.”

Now Jaina understood. Luke wasn’t about to sacrifice Allana Solo, not after he had seen her sitting on the Throne of Balance in a Force vision. Unfortunately, not everyone present was privy to the secret of the young girl’s destiny, so there were a lot of puzzled scowls along the non-Jedi side of the table.

Finally, Luew Wuul asked the question outright. “I don’t understand, Master Skywalker. I know the Solos quite well, and I can’t imagine either of them hesitating to make such a—”

“It doesn’t matter, because it wouldn’t work,” Dorvan said, interrupting. “Abeloth would see it coming.”

Nek Bwua’tu turned in his seat to face Dorvan. “I don’t see how, Wynn,” he said. “I can have a baradium barrage on the Temple in sixty seconds.”

“And if you did, she would have seen it coming and already be gone.” Dorvan glanced over at the puzzled faces flanking him, then seemed to realize the source of his problem. “You do realize she can look into the future, right?”

Admiral Bwua’tu’s shoulders sank in despair, but any reply he intended to make was cut short by another bone-rattling boom from the Galactic Justice Center. All eyes turned toward the sound—just in time to see the gleaming cylinder vanish behind a kilometer-high pillar of boiling magma and billowing ash.

Jaina was as shocked as everyone else in the room, and she would probably have continued to watch as the conflagration melted the Justice Center into a river of molten durasteel—had she not felt a familiar presence tugging at her from the other side of Fellowship Plaza. Realizing that the eruption made a very effective diversion, she slid her gaze back toward the Jedi Temple. Amid the cloud of speck-sized blastboats still circling its gleaming pyramid, she caught a glimpse of a single-winged orb streaking away from Pinnacle Platform, ascending through the smoke on its way out of the Coruscanti gravity well.

Ship.

Jaina spun back toward Luke and found him already moving toward the door, motioning for her to follow.

Abeloth had Ben … and they had just departed for the Maw.