chapter six

Located in the heart of the Senate District between the Jedi Temple and the Galactic Justice Center, Fellowship Plaza was usually abandoned after dark. But tonight, Alema was hardly alone. Jacen and Ben stood just a few meters away, talking in the shadows beside a neatly trimmed row of blartrees.

And she was not the only one eavesdropping on them. First she had spotted Lumiya, standing in a tall privacy hedge on the opposite side of the walkway, so quiet and motionless it was impossible to be certain she was still there. Then there was the dark blur that had come creeping through the fog after Ben arrived. It was about twenty meters away, crouching behind the hedge on Alema’s side of the walkway, pointing what appeared to be a small parabolic dish through the blartrees toward where Ben and Jacen stood talking. Whoever it was, the shadow had to be a Jedi—and a fairly adept one, at that. Like Lumiya and Alema herself, he—or she—had drawn in on himself until he no longer seemed to have a Force presence at all.

“… have the sparring sessions been going?” Jacen asked. “Is he still trying to make you lose your temper?”

Alema thought she saw Ben shaking his head. The two cousins were taking care to stand out of the light, and in such foggy conditions even dark-sensitive Twi’lek eyes could see little more than silhouettes.

“No,” Ben said. “I think he’s really trying to teach me something.”

“You couldn’t ask for a better instructor,” Jacen said. “But be careful. Your father is just looking for an excuse to send you back to the academy.”

Ben remained silent for a moment, then asked, “Is he going to find one?”

“That’s up to you,” Jacen replied evenly. “Do you think the techniques I’ve been teaching you are dark?”

“It depends on how I use them,” Ben replied.

“Exactly.” Jacen’s voice grew warm, and he clasped Ben’s shoulder. “But the older your father grows, the more conservative he becomes. He’s afraid he hasn’t done a good job preparing the modern generation of Jedi—that they aren’t strong enough to employ all aspects of the Force.”

“What do you think?” Ben asked.

“I think he’s done a better job than he realizes. Many Jedi Knights aren’t strong enough to use the whole Force, but some are.” Jacen laid both hands on Ben’s shoulders. “You are.”

Ben poured pride into the Force. “You’re sure?”

“What do you think?” Jacen demanded. “You’re just asking because you want me to say it again.”

“I guess so.” Ben’s tone was chagrined. “You wouldn’t be teaching me to use my emotions if you didn’t think I was strong enough.”

Alema’s heart swelled with an awe that was almost religious. Unless she misunderstood what she was hearing—and that did not seem possible—Luke Skywalker was losing his only son to the thing he feared most: the dark side. And his own nephew was going to be the instrument of that loss.

“That’s right,” Jacen said to Ben. “I’d never teach you something you’re not ready to use. Now I need you to tell Captain Shevu that I won’t be able to join him on tonight’s raids. You’ll have to handle the Jedi duties alone.”

“Can do,” Ben said. “But Captain Girdun is starting to worry about not having enough Jedi to run two teams. Maybe you should consider asking the Council for some help.”

Jacen tipped his head at a cynical angle. “And how do you think that request would be received?”

“Yeah, I know—Dad runs the Council.” Ben’s tone was more conspiratorial than apologetic. “But Captain Girdun wanted me to suggest it.”

“I see.” Jacen considered this for a moment, then said, “You’d better tell Girdun that I’m considering the idea. We don’t want our subordinates worrying about our relationship with the Jedi Council, do we?”

“Probably not,” Ben agreed. “Should we hold the interrogations for you?”

Jacen shook his head. “Girdun may have to start without me,” he said. “I’m meeting someone else, then I have some business with Admiral Niathal.”

“The GAG Star Destroyer?”

“Maybe.” Jacen pointed up the walkway toward the Galactic Justice Center. “Go on to headquarters. I’ll tell you about it at home.”

“You better.”

Ben turned and started up the walkway, passing first Lumiya’s hiding place, then Alema’s. Once he was past, Alema turned her attention to the back side of the hedge and found the eavesdropper creeping toward her, still holding the parabolic antenna in one hand.

As the shadow drew nearer, its silhouette sharpened into that of a Jedi in a standard hooded robe, then into the form of a tall woman with the pale face and heavy brow of a Chev. A couple of steps more, and Alema realized that this was not just any Jedi following Ben. It was Tresina Lobi, one of the Masters who had served on Cal Omas’s Special Council during the war with the Yuuzhan Vong.

Alema dropped her hand to her lightsaber, at the same time willing Lobi not to make the mistake of letting that parabolic antenna swing past her hiding place. At this range, the antenna was sensitive enough to pick up sounds as faint as heartbeats, and the last thing Alema wanted was to have her presence detected.

She needn’t have worried. Lobi was still two meters away when Lumiya’s sharp voice sounded from the other side of the hedge. “Jacen, I’m impressed.”

Alema risked looking away from Lobi and saw Lumiya stepping onto the foggy walkway, her long robes seeming to flow out of the hedge as though they were nothing but shadow.

“You have him very well under control.”

“It’s not a matter of control.” There was just a hint of hostility in Jacen’s voice. “Ben is my cousin. I care about him very much.”

Lumiya studied Jacen from behind her veil, then said, “Caring is fine—as long as you don’t let it stand in your way.”

“There’s a difference between letting something stand in your way and destroying it needlessly,” Jacen countered. “I’m beginning to think maybe I should send him back to his father.”

Lumiya’s voice grew as alarmed as it did disapproving. “Why would you do a foolish thing like that?”

“To complete his training,” Jacen said. “I’m having trouble finding the time to do it myself, and that leaves him vulnerable. You saw how he tried to manipulate me into feeding his ego.”

“I did, and that kind of weakness will make him a servant to his emotions,” Lumiya said. “It will also make him your servant, if you use it wisely.”

“That’s not what I want for my cousin,” Jacen said, sounding slightly disgusted.

“What you want doesn’t matter!” Lumiya retorted. “What you need does—and you need an apprentice.”

“I need an assistant,” Jacen countered. “And there are several Jedi Knights who would serve me better and require less time from me—Tahiri Veila, for example.”

“Tahiri is not a descendant of Anakin Skywalker,” Lumiya replied. “She does not have Ben’s potential, and she will not serve you as well in the long run.”

Jacen remained silent for a long time, then finally asked, “Don’t you mean serve you?”

“It’s the same thing,” Lumiya replied quickly. “We serve one cause—though I am having doubts about you, Jacen. You seem more committed to your friends and family than you do to our mission.”

“If that means protecting them from needless harm, then yes, I am,” Jacen said. “We’re supposed to be doing this for the good of the galaxy—and the galaxy includes my friends and family.”

“Of course it does, Jacen. I don’t mean to imply that it doesn’t.” Though Lumiya’s words were conciliatory, her voice remained stern and demanding. “But the galaxy is bigger than your family. You must be willing to sacrifice what you care about to a greater purpose.”

“I’ve already proved that I’m willing to do that,” Jacen said coldly. “I’m proving it every day.”

“Indeed you are.” Lumiya’s voice softened, and she took Jacen’s elbow in her hand. “All I’m saying is that we need to keep Ben near; I don’t know how yet, but I have a sense that he will prove the key to our success.”

Jacen considered this for a moment, then let out his breath and nodded. “Okay—for now. But the minute I begin to suspect that you’re only using him to get even with Uncle Luke—”

“You won’t, because I’m not,” Lumiya said. “Everything I do, I do to bring peace and justice to the galaxy.”

Alema’s admiration for the woman was growing by the moment; Jacen Solo wasn’t easy to deceive, and she was using Jacen’s own idealism to destroy him and his family. Delightful.

Lumiya glanced up and down the walkway, no doubt reaching out in the Force to make certain no one had wandered into the area while they were talking, then asked, “Why did you want to see me here?”

“Because I didn’t have time to go to your apartment,” Jacen said.

Alema glanced back to the other side of the hedge. Lobi had dropped into a crouch and was running a feed line from the antenna to a recording rod on her belt. Now Alema began to feel less awestruck by the Balance than betrayed by it. Since her failed attack on Jacen, she had spent her time spying on him and Lumiya, and it had slowly dawned on her that just as Luke was losing Ben to what he feared most, Jacen was becoming what Leia hated most: a Sith Lord.

But if Lobi revealed that to Luke now, Jacen’s training would never be completed. Luke would hunt Lumiya down and kill her, Leia would redeem her son through her love, and the Solos would live happily ever after.

And where was the Balance in that?

Jacen recaptured Alema’s attention with an angry rebuttal to something she had missed.

“I don’t have time to be that careful tonight. Niathal is about to give me my own Star Destroyer.” His voice grew calmer, yet also more cold and demanding. “I was supposed to meet her five minutes ago, but I need you to take care of something for me. Now.”

“What is it?” Lumiya asked. Her tone made clear that she wasn’t agreeing to anything. “And you might try asking in a civil manner.”

Alema kept her gaze fixed on Lobi, who was continuing to record every word.

After a moment, Jacen spoke in a calmer tone. “Sorry. I lost a friend today.”

“I see.” Lumiya’s voice held just a hint of disapproval at Jacen’s sadness. “That must be why the Ferals are rioting.”

“Yes. The World Brain died this afternoon.” Jacen’s voice actually cracked. “But the Ferals aren’t exactly rioting—they just don’t have any impulse control without the World Brain to guide them.”

“And you want me to provide some?”

“No, Coruscant Security can handle that,” he said. “I need you to finish that list I gave you.”

“The Bothans?” Lumiya asked. “Jacen, you can’t let your personal feelings—”

“I’m not,” Jacen interrupted. “The Corellians finally figured out how GAG has been tracking them. They’re planning to send their whole network after the World Brain.”

“But not if they realize it’s dead already,” Lumiya surmised.

“Right,” Jacen said. “And I need them to attack. It will bring the terrorists out in the open.”

“And GAG will be waiting?” Lumiya asked.

“GAG will be watching,” Jacen corrected. “Coruscant Security will handle the actual ambush. Our agents will concentrate on the terrorists who escape. Some are bound to panic, and with any luck we’ll be able to follow them back to their ringleaders.”

“So, many Bothans must die to bait your trap,” Lumiya said.

“No one would understand the necessity better than Bothans,” Jacen said.

As Jacen said this, Lobi was pulling her comlink from her utility belt. Alema watched with increasing despair as the Chev carefully set the parabolic antenna on the ground and donned her headset and throat mike. This could not be in the interests of the Balance—not when Alema still owed Leia so much.

After a moment’s pause, Lumiya said, “You know that finishing this list will force Bothawui to declare war. Their ambassador is on it.”

“Do him first,” Jacen said. “Bothawui is going to declare war anyway. Niathal says they’re already outfitting three cruiser fleets for Corellian crews.”

“Fine,” Lumiya said. “The ambassador first … if you’re sure.”

“Don’t I sound sure?” Jacen snapped. A pair of military boots began to clack down the walkway as he departed. “Just do it. I can’t keep the admiral waiting any longer.”

Tresina Lobi reached for her throat mike and started to depress the SEND key in rhythmic sequence, using a click code to begin a silent broadcast to whoever was on the other end. Alema could see her finger movements just well enough to make out some of the message.

“… Skywalker he was … Lumiya IS following Ben—”

That was as far as Lobi made it before Alema understood the reason the Force had brought the Chev so close to her hiding place.

“… is more …”

Alema jerked her lightsaber off her belt. She was a Jedi—and Jedi served the Balance.

“… Lumiya is—”

Alema sprang from her hiding place, activating her blade as she flew through the air. Lobi was already rolling, her hand flying from her throat as she reached for her own weapon.

Alema stretched her jump into a Force leap and brought her mangled half foot down between Lobi’s shoulder blades … then felt a crushing pain as the Chev continued to roll, smashing the back of an elbow into Alema’s knee and knocking her legs out from beneath her.

Alema landed flat atop a chrysanthus shrub, surprised and hurting. Lobi had never been a flashy fighter, but she was powerful and effective—and clearly deserving of her rank. Alema whipped her lightsaber around to protect herself, half expecting to feel the death slash before it reached middle guard.

But the Chev had been disoriented by the unexpected assault and decided to buy some reaction time by leaping into a high Force flip. Alema arched her back and sprang to her feet—then nearly fell when her aching knee buckled. Instead of leaping into another attack, she extended her hand and used the Force to pluck the headset off Lobi’s head.

The Chev landed an instant later, her eyes wide with rage and disbelief, but she wasted no time acknowledging Alema’s identity. She merely ignited her own lightsaber and raced forward to attack.

Alema barely had time to slash the headset apart before the Chev was on her, driving her back toward the hedge with a combination of high slashes and powerful front thrust kicks. The first kick that landed drove the air from Alema’s lungs. The second doubled her over, making her an easy target—until she used the Force to accelerate herself off Lobi’s foot and deep into the hedge where she had been hiding a moment earlier.

As Alema crashed into the blartrees, she heard Lumiya on the other side, calling down the walkway to Jacen.

“Go on! I’ll handle this.”

No! Alema wanted to yell. Lobi is too dangerous—we need all the help we can get!

But of course, she did not dare. During the early stages of the Killiks’ conflict with the Galactic Alliance, her nest—the Dark Nest—had attempted to assassinate Jacen’s daughter, and she was quite sure that he’d be happy to let Lobi kill her. So she pushed out onto the walkway just far enough to reveal herself to Lumiya.

The Sith scowled and ignited her own weapon—an exotic one that seemed equal parts whip and lightsaber, with long flexible strands of metal and bright hissing energy.

“Who are you?” Lumiya demanded. “Why are you—”

“No time!” Alema launched herself back through the blartrees; if Lobi had not yet followed, that could only mean she was fleeing. “Come, before the Jedi spy escapes!”

Alema emerged from the hedge to find Lobi twenty paces away and already fading into the night. Alema dropped her lightsaber and pointed in the Chev’s direction, opening herself completely to the Force, using her anger and fear to draw it deep down inside. A moment later its power began to burn, and she released it in a long crackling bolt that caught her target square between the shoulder blades—and drove her to the ground.

Lumiya emerged from the hedge, her lightwhip burning a bright-colored hole in the fog. She glanced at the blue bolts coming from Alema’s fingertips, then asked again, “Who are you?”

“We’re a friend.” Continuing to pour Force lightning into Lobi’s prostrate form, Alema limped forward on her throbbing knee. “One who doesn’t wish Master Skywalker to learn what you are doing with his nephew.”

Lumiya followed. “We? I don’t see—”

“Later!” Alema snapped. They had closed to within five meters of Lobi. “Right now, we are in too much trouble to …”

Lobi suddenly stopped writhing and extended a hand toward a nearby patio. A decorative urn came flying out of the fog.

Alema let the Force lightning sizzle out and tried to redirect the urn, but Lobi’s Force grasp was too secure. The urn caught her full in her crippled shoulder and sent her flying. She landed in the chrysanthus shrubs several meters away, her body throbbing with pain and her mind numb with shock.

The hum-and-sizzle of clashing weapons slowly brought her back to her senses, and she sat up to find Tresina Lobi spinning and parrying, slowly forcing Lumiya back, probing and feinting, trying to work her way past the crackling strands of Lumiya’s exotic lightwhip—and into the striking range of a lightsaber.

Alema summoned her own weapon back into her grasp, then stood and limped forward to help.

Lobi sprang into a backflip and sailed over a crackling whip strike. Then, as she was still descending, she extended a hand in Alema’s direction and used the Force to pull her into the path of the flashing strands. Lumiya barely managed to shut down the weapon before it struck, and even then the hot filaments cut through Alema’s robe, burning a rainbow of hot welts into her thigh and ribs.

Alema was still screaming when Lobi landed at Lumiya’s side. The Chev brought her lightsaber down, and Lumiya’s weapon arm—one of her many cybernetic parts—fell to the ground trailing sparks and hydraulic fluid.

Lobi reversed her blade instantly, angling for Lumiya’s torso, but Alema was already leaping forward to catch the Chev’s attack on her own lightsaber.

Lobi whipped her lightsaber around low, aiming at Alema’s knees and forcing her to leap back.

Alema pointed at Lumiya’s severed arm, then used the Force to send it spinning toward Lobi’s head. The Chev woman ducked easily, but that gave Lumiya time to call her lightwhip into her remaining hand and strike again. Lobi pivoted away from the attack. Alema sprang at her from behind, striking for the Chev’s thick neck, then cried out in surprise as a huge foot glanced off her ribs … and still sent her staggering back.

Lumiya seized the opportunity to launch a flurry of attacks, fanning the strands of her whip to make it more difficult to block, striking right and left to prevent the Chev from pivoting away again, slowly driving Lobi back toward Alema’s droning lightsaber.

Then, finally, Lobi faltered, gathering herself for a Force leap, but hesitating and retreating another step toward Alema instead.

It was the moment Alema had been waiting for.

“You are good, Master Lobi—but not that good.” Alema spoke in a Force whisper so soft that it was little more than a thought. “Even you cannot defeat two of us.”

Lobi’s head snapped around, her eyes filled with confusion and doubt, and she spun into a whirling charge of crescent kicks and horizontal lightsaber strikes.

Alema held her ground, ducking a lightsaber strike and letting a kick slip off her shoulder, then Force-slammed the hilt of her lightsaber into the pit of the Chev’s stomach and spoke again in her Force whisper.

“No good.”

Amazingly, Lobi stumbled only one step back … but that step was one too far. Lumiya’s lightwhip caught her across the back of the legs and severed them both at the knees. The Chev roared first in anger, then—as she dropped onto the stumps and pitched forward onto her hands—in agony.

It was a terrible sound to hear. Alema stepped forward and spoke once more in her Force whisper.

“There is no need to suffer.” She swept her blade across the back of the Chev’s neck, and the head tumbled away. “Your fight is done.”

Lumiya stepped into view at the other end of the body, but her gaze remained on Alema, and she did not deactivate her lightwhip. “Do I know you?” she asked.

“Not yet.” Alema knelt beside Lobi’s headless body and rolled it over, then removed the recording rod from the Chev’s belt and tossed it to Lumiya. “But we hope you will let us serve you. What you are doing with Jacen is so delicious—and so right for the Balance.”