A pillar of white stone rising three hundred meters out of a rolling gray sea, the island beyond the Jade Shadow’s forward canopy was as beautiful as it was awe inspiring. A wreath of dancing sea foam lapped at its base and a thin band of green foliage crowned the summit, and already the distant specks of seabirds could be seen wheeling before its white cliffs. And yet, when Luke glanced into the mirrpanel in the cockpit canopy, he saw Sarasu Taalon slumped in the copilot’s seat, still scanning the distant horizon for a destination that lay right in front of him.
Perhaps Luke’s odds were not so bad after all.
Taalon met Luke’s gaze in the mirrpanel. Like the fifty Sith warriors riding in back with Ben and Vestara, he was still wearing his hazard suit. All Luke could see of the High Lord was a face that grew more haggard and alien by the moment, with sunken oval eyes and thin lavender flesh stretched tight over bones as knobby as knuckles.
“I know what you are planning, Master Skywalker.” Taalon’s vocabulator gave the words a wispy, almost whispered quality. “And it won’t work.”
“It’s the thermal detonator, isn’t it?” Luke asked. A thermal detonator was the last thing on his mind, but he had already learned to avoid thinking about his plans in Taalon’s presence. The High Lord had developed some very impressive powers since his dip in the Pool of Knowledge. “I was wondering if I’d have time for that.”
Taalon studied Luke for a moment, then said darkly, “Remember your son, Master Skywalker. The instant you betray me, he dies.”
“Now I know you’re lying,” Luke said. “According to my plan, Ben will be long gone when I betray you.”
“We all have our dreams, Jedi.” Taalon shifted his gaze out the canopy again, then asked, “How long before we reach the Fallanassi’s home?”
Luke glanced forward again, where the Fallanassi island loomed just a few kilometers away. “It should be coming into view anytime now.” He didn’t think Taalon could see through the illusion that hid the island, but it was time to be sure. “Why don’t you bring up a tactical readout and see what they’re sending to meet us?”
“The Fallanassi are pacifists, are they not?” Taalon asked. “What could they send against us?”
“Being a pacifist isn’t the same as being helpless,” Luke replied. “The Fallanassi have many defenses.”
Taalon reached over and fumbled with the screen controls, his gloved hands obviously causing him some trouble.
“You may as well take off those gloves,” Luke said. “Your hazard suit isn’t going to protect you anyway.”
“Liar!” exclaimed Gavar Khai, who was seated in the navigator’s seat next to Taalon. “You’re trying to infect us.”
Luke smirked into the mirrpanel. “Do you see me wearing a hazard suit?” he asked. “What Ben and Vestara have—what you already have—is the Weeping Pox. Hazard suits can’t stop it. It spreads through the Force.”
“Then why aren’t you sick?” Taalon asked.
Luke arched his brows in feigned concern, then asked, “The Sith don’t have health meditation?” He did his best to look as though this were a pleasant discovery. “That explains why Vestara is doing so poorly compared with Ben.”
Khai’s eyes flashed in alarm. “And you didn’t teach her?”
Luke shrugged. “I thought she knew,” he said. “It’s such a basic technique for us.”
“Liar!” Khai leaned forward. “If she dies, then your son—”
“Saber Khai!” Taalon raised a gloved hand for silence. “Skywalker is only playing on your fear. If he can convince us that we are already infected, we will removed our suits and become truly infected.”
Luke shrugged. “So, keep your suits on.” Despite his nonchalance, a cold lump had formed in Luke’s stomach. Even without knowing the true nature of the “disease,” Taalon had almost guessed his intention. “We’ll know the truth soon enough.”
Khai’s eyes hardened, and he glared down at the back of Luke’s head. “High Lord Taalon knows the truth now.”
Luke allowed himself a smile. Khai’s tone was a little too insistent. The Saber was getting nervous, which meant Luke had successfully planted the seeds of doubt. With time, those seeds would blossom into a full-blown illusion. And once blue blisters started to appear inside Khai’s suit, the rest of the Sith would believe they were infected, too.
Finally, Taalon pressed the right combination of keys. The tactical readout appeared on the primary displays of both pilots, with the Shadow in the center and the Sith troop shuttle, the Obuuri, following close behind.
Their destination stretched across most of the top of the screen, but the lack of reaction behind Luke suggested the island remained hidden from his passengers. Fallanassi illusions worked from the inside, using the White Current to create an impression within the victim’s mind so vivid and realistic that his own intellect worked against him to supply the tiniest details—and to conceal anything that might cast doubt on its reality.
After a moment, Taalon shook his head. “I see nothing.” He leaned forward and spoke into Luke’s ear. “I warn you, if you think you can lead us astray, you are badly—”
Taalon’s threat was interrupted by an astonished cry from the navigator’s seat. “Lord Taalon!” Khai extended his arm and pointed at the tactical display. “Look!”
Taalon said something harsh in his native language, then asked, “How is that possible?”
Luke glanced down and, just rounding the island, found a familiar designator symbol: SHIP.
“What kind of tactical readout is this?” Taalon demanded. “SHIP? What kind of ships? How big? Do they pose a threat?”
“Have you no eyes?” Khai demanded. “The readout shows a whole squadron—and we’re flying straight into it!”
“Oh, those ships,” Luke said. The display showed only one designator symbol, so the “squadron” was obviously another Fallanassi illusion. “Aren’t they yours?”
“Ours?” Taalon asked.
Luke pointed at the symbol on his screen. “That’s not just any ship,” he explained. “It’s Ship—the meditation sphere. Until now, we didn’t realize you had a whole fleet of them. So we’ve just been using Ship’s name as its designator symbol.”
Luke continued toward the island on a straight course, wondering how long it would take Taalon to admit that the illusory vessels weren’t his. The more desperate the Sith were to project a strength greater than they possessed, the more likely it was that they were actually very weak, and that would be valuable information to have. Even so, Luke was ready to put the Shadow into an evasive dive at the first tingle of danger sense. The range of most spacecraft weapons was greatly diminished in atmosphere, but Ship remained enough of a mystery that it was impossible to know how soon it might open fire.
The dark speck of a distant vessel appeared on the horizon, about a kilometer to one side of the island, and began to grow rapidly as it closed with the Shadow. Luke kept his thumb poised over the targeting pad on the pilot’s yoke, but he stopped short of arming the concussion missiles—or even designating Ship as a primary target. Both actions would trigger confirmation messages that his passengers were likely to notice.
When Taalon still refused to admit the illusory vessels were not his, Luke said, “Have your squadron fall in behind the Obuuri. It will be easier if everybody follows the Shadow in.”
“Easier for you, perhaps—and for anyone targeting them,” Taalon replied. “I will decide how to deploy my squadron, Master Skywalker.”
By the time the High Lord had finished speaking, Ship had swelled to the size of a thumbnail and was probably close enough to open fire. Either Taalon actually believed that he controlled the squadron of Ships, or he was more afraid of appearing weak than he was of dying. Either way, it was time to call the High Lord’s bluff.
“In that case, would you mind asking the squadron to swing about?” Luke asked. “We’re entering combat range, and I don’t like having all those plasma lances pointed my way.”
“Plasma lances?” Taalon asked, obviously bewildered.
Luke lowered his voice in suspicion. “You haven’t heard about the plasma lances?” He armed the concussion missiles and designated Ship as the primary target, then caught Taalon’s eye in the mirrpanel. “How can you be in command of meditation spheres and not … oh, you aren’t!”
Taalon’s bewilderment turned to a knowing smirk. “Nice try, Master Skywalker, but there are no such things as plasma lances,” he said. “I assure you, I am in complete command of Ship and all its mates.”
The conviction in the High Lord’s voice suggested he truly believed what he was saying—and Luke had a sinking feeling he knew why.
“How did you and Saber Khai escape Abeloth’s planet?” Luke asked. “Aboard Ship?”
“Of course,” Taalon replied. “I commanded Ship to come to me.”
“And Ship limped you out of the Maw,” Luke guessed. “Then you brought Ship to Pydyr in a frigate hangar bay … back to Abeloth.”
Taalon’s voice grew less confident. “We brought Ship with us, yes,” he confirmed. “But it remains under my control, not Abeloth’s. And right now, Ship is telling me to return to shore and call for reinforcements. There’s a large force ahead waiting to ambush us.”
“A Fallanassi force?” Luke let out a burst of laughter. “For a Sith, you’re awfully naïve.”
“Ship is not lying to me, Master Skywalker.” Taalon’s voice assumed a note of urgency—perhaps because he was experiencing a tingle of danger sense similar to the one Luke felt. “Turn—”
The second half of Taalon’s command vanished into the screech of proximity alarms. Luke thumbed the firing button on the pilot’s yoke, then felt two soft thumps as a pair of concussion missiles shot from their launching tubes. In the same instant a trio of smoke lines streaked toward them from Ship’s direction. Streaks of color fanned across the sky as the Obuuri sprayed cannon fire at the squadron of illusory meditation spheres. Luke spun the Shadow into a barrel roll, dropping to within a few meters of the rolling waves—then continued toward the island.
The smoke lines bent toward them.
Ben’s voice came over the intercom speaker. “Uh, Dad? You do see all those meditation spheres, right? The ones you’re going to fly straight under?”
“Yeah, Ben … I see ’em.” It was not exactly true, but Luke could see the one craft that mattered—Ship. “Don’t worry.”
“Who’s worried?”
Ben’s reply was followed by a muffled I am! from Vestara, and a chorus of agreement from the other Sith packed into the main cabin.
“We were just wondering if you wanted us to do anything,” Ben continued.
“Thanks,” Luke said. The smoke lines continued to curl toward the Shadow. “But we have it under control up here.”
“Under control?” Gavar Khai cried. “We are outnumbered six to one!”
“But we’ve got you and … Taalon,” Luke said, craning his neck to look through the top of the canopy. At the leading point of each smoke line appeared a tiny ball of orange flame, most likely a friction fire caused by one of the Force-hurled stones Ship sometimes used as missiles. “How about giving those rocks a Force nudge?”
“Which ones?” Taalon gasped. “There must be fifty!”
“Hold on.” Luke turned the Shadow directly toward the three real missiles, and the tiny fireballs instantly swelled to the size of Wookiee heads. “Those.”
“Are you mad?”
Despite Taalon’s surprised outcry, the three fireballs veered sharply to the left and vanished. Luke would have liked to check the tactical readout to see what had become of Ship, but a curtain of white cliff loomed ahead. At the velocity they were traveling, it was impossible to guess the distance. But they were getting close. Obuuri cannon bolts were already starting to blast sprays of powdery stone from the island’s sheer face.
Luke knew he would never have a better opportunity to lead the Sith into a trap, but with Taalon nearby the only plan that stood a chance of success was no plan. He simply had to act and react.
More cannon bolts began to end their flight in a starburst of superheated stone. Luke hazarded a check of the tactical readout and saw no sign of Ship, only the Obuuri jinking about in an effort to avoid illusory missiles.
By the time Luke lifted his gaze, the Obuuri’s cannon bolts were exploding into the cliff face a mere second after flashing past the Shadow. Luke pulled the pilot’s yoke back and felt the star yacht’s nose snap upward.
“Are you mad?” Taalon cried.
The Shadow’s nose dropped again, and they continued toward the cliff. Luke’s heart jumped into his throat. Realizing he had to give the High Lord some reason to pull up other than an island he could not see, Luke pointed at the line of exploding cannon bolts.
“Barrier … field!” He could barely choke out the words, for the Ubuuri’s bolts were erupting against the cliff barely a heartbeat after they streaked past. “Look at the cannon—”
Their nose rose so fast they nearly went into a loop. Luke eased the yoke forward, and the Shadow climbed toward the azure sky, running parallel to the cliff—then began to buck and shudder as a shock wave hit them from behind. He fought to regain control for a moment, then glanced at the tactical display and saw the Obuuri’s designator symbol vanishing into the bright red circle of a heat blossom.
“Where did that barrier field come from?” Taalon demanded. “Why doesn’t the tactical display show it?”
“Maybe it’s some kind of Force wall,” Khai suggested.
“It must be something like that,” Luke replied. “What happened to Ship? Did we get it?”
“Our missiles were diverted,” Khai said. “But how do you know you were firing at Ship instead of some other sphere?”
“Just a feeling.”
“I think you have many feelings you haven’t been sharing,” Taalon said, his voice cold with suspicion. “Feelings that might have saved the Obuuri, had you shared them earlier.”
“Sorry, I was kind of busy,” Luke said. “Next time, maybe you should trust me to fly my own ship.”
“Not likely, Master Skywalker,” Taalon said. “In fact, I don’t trust you now. We will run for shore and call for reinforcements.”
Luke shook his head. “And give the Fallanassi more time to prepare?” Outside the canopy, the green-fringed rim of the cliff flashed past, and then the Shadow was climbing into an empty sky. “If you do that, it won’t matter how many Sith you bring.”
“The decision is not yours,” Taalon said. “You will return to shore, or Ben will dieooooaaagh!” Taalon’s threat broke into an outcry as Luke dropped their nose and reduced thrust, decelerating so sharply that he was thrown against his crash harness. Even so, the Shadow was halfway across the island before they were traveling slow enough to see that the surface lay smothered beneath club moss and tree ferns. One edge of the cliff was cut by the fungus-filled fissure of an old stairwell, which ascended to the top of the plateau and became a mossy channel meandering toward a distant cluster of hummocks. As the Shadow continued forward, the hummocks began to take the form of cone-shaped huts and long gathering halls with half-barrel roofs. Atop the largest hall, a column of yellow fumes was leaking into the air through a bare patch of stacked stone.
“This is the home of the Fallanassi?” Khai asked. Clearly, he was now able to see the island as plainly as Luke was. “It looks like Abeloth’s planet in the Maw!”
“At least we know we’re in the right place.” Luke continued to decelerate, at the same time trying to decide how he could confirm that his passengers were seeing the same island he was—rather than a slightly different illusion. “What are those mounds at the other end of the island?”
“Their village, obviously.” Taalon’s voice filled with menace. “If you trick me again, Skywalker, Ben will be the first to die.”
“Not if you are,” Luke replied. “Tell your warriors to ready themselves.”
“Sith are always ready,” Khai replied. “You are not going to remind us that the Fallanassi are pacifists?”
“No,” Luke said. “I’ve given you warning enough.”
Khai’s brows arched with curiosity, but they were already approaching the village, and Luke used the excuse to break eye contact without elaborating. He landed in a mossy area that appeared to be the village circle, in front of the large hall that was leaking the yellow fumes.
The Shadow was still settling onto her struts when a soft informational chirp announced that the boarding ramp had been lowered. By the time Luke had popped the release on his crash harness, Sith warriors were already racing out to establish a defensive perimeter. Unlike Jedi warriors, who would have had their blasters in hand and ready to fire under such circumstances, the Sabers acted as though their mere presence was enough to prevent an attack.
Leaving the Shadow’s systems on READY-STANDBY, Luke rose and followed Taalon and Khai out into the square. Save for a briny hint of sea, the village smelted much the same as had Abeloth’s planet, musty and fetid. And it was not just the air that reeked. The Force was sour with anguish and fear. Luke could feel it swirling past, nettling his body all over as it flowed toward the large gathering hall.
“Blast!” Ben croaked, joining Luke and the others. “What is that?”
It was Vestara who answered. “Power.” Like Ben, she still appeared exhausted and sick. “Raw power.”
Ben looked at her, his brow cocked in doubt. “Power?”
“Yes, Ben.” A hungry smile came to her cracked lips. “You know how it works. Pain leads to fear. Fear leads to anger.”
“Anger leads to the dark side,” Luke finished.
He turned toward the gathering hall, wondering if the fear starting to gnaw at him could possibly have merit. Could Abeloth be feeding on the anguish and fear around her? Could she actually be turning those dark emotions into dark side power?
Luke’s musings came to an end when the Fallanassi began to emerge from their huts. Dressed in simple shifts belted at the waist, they were all female and mostly human, and in their haggard faces Luke saw the same anguish and fear he felt in the Force. Despite the deliberate menace being projected by the Sith, a gray-haired woman with worried eyes and a long, blade-thin nose set her gaze on Luke. She led forward half a dozen companions who looked to be of a similar age.
“Do you know her?” Taalon asked.
“No,” Luke said. “But that’s almost certainly their circle of elders. You should let them approach.”
Though Taalon issued no orders that Luke could hear, a pair of Sith stepped aside and allowed the Fallanassi inside their perimeter. The gray-haired woman came straight to Luke. Ignoring Taalon and Khai, she fixed him with an angry gaze.
“Akanah said you would betray us.”
“I haven’t betrayed you …” Luke paused, waiting for the woman’s name to rise to the top of her mind, then continued, “… Eliya. It’s obvious that your community here was already in trouble. But I doubt you understand the true nature of that danger. I’ve come to help you.”
“By bringing them into our home?” Eliya waved an angry hand at Taalon. “You expect us to heal Sith?”
“The danger you face now is far worse than … Sith,” Luke replied. He was so taken aback by the vehemence in her voice that he nearly missed the cue she had fed him—the Fallanassi already had a plan for dealing with the Sith. All he needed to do was keep Taalon from discovering it. “And I need them alive to help you.”
Eliya studied Luke for a moment, then shook her head in disgust. “Even you don’t believe they’re going to keep their promise.” She sighed heavily, then turned to Taalon. “But the Creed gives us no choice in whom we help. Take off those ridiculous suits, and we’ll see about saving you.”
“Saving us?” Taalon asked.
“From the White Plague,” one of Eliya’s companions supplied. She motioned to Ben and Vestara. “You two come with me. We need to get some jigog salve on those sores right away.”
Taalon’s hand rose. “Hold.”
He turned and studied Luke for a time, no doubt calling on whatever powers of insight had been bestowed on him by his dip in the Pool of Knowledge. It was a helpless feeling, knowing that an enemy could foretell his plans simply by looking at him—but it was also an important tidbit of information, indicating as it did that Taalon actually had to contemplate the situation to foresee what would happen.
After a moment, Taalon said to Luke, “You called it the Weeping Pox.”
It was Eliya who answered. “The White Plague is known by many—”
Taalon lashed out so quickly that Luke saw nothing but the back of his gloved hand striking Eliya’s face. She went down instantly, landing at his feet with blood pouring from a split cheek.
“There is no disease,” he announced. “The White Plague is a Fallanassi trick.”
Eliya’s eyes grew wide with surprise and disbelief, but she shook her head and began, “Believe what you wish, Sith. But it will be your death—”
“Eliya, don’t,” Luke interrupted. If she continued to lie, Taalon would only make an example of her. “I know this is hard to believe, but the Fallanassi really will be better off if you just cooperate.”
“We are here to find Abeloth,” Taalon said. He looked toward the gathering hall. “Where is she? In there?”
Eliya shot an angry scowl at Luke, then shook her head. “No. Not any longer,” she said. “She left—”
“You will see Abeloth soon enough,” a familiar voice called.
Luke turned and found Akanah standing in the door of the gathering hall. Her hair was hanging loose and waving about her shoulders, as though caught by a breeze that was not blowing, and there was a darkness in her eyes that seemed to rise from the depths of time itself. Her gaze shifted from Taalon to Luke, and she smiled, revealing a mouthful of small sharp teeth.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said. “Really, you shouldn’t have.”