Authors: Troy Denning
A loud bang sounded from the outer door of the wing.
“We’re out of time,” Jacen said. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now, or—”
“If I die, Tenel Ka is a target. If I am imprisoned, if I am disgraced … Tenel Ka is a target.” Ta’a Chume eased her neck out of Jacen’s hands, then twisted around to face him. “If you want your daughter to grow up with a mother, Jacen, you must spare me. That is the only way.”
The anger that Jacen felt suddenly turned to something else—something cold and calculating.
“Not the only way,” he said. “There is another.”
He grabbed Ta’a Chume by the shoulder and pulled her back into the seat. Then, as the muted tramp of boots began to pound through the outer warrens of her living chambers, Jacen poured hot, crackling Force energy into her head, pushing hard with his own presence, violently, until they both blasted free of her brain and Ta’a Chume gave a last, falling shriek, plunging down into the depths of her mind, plummeting into the darkness of a soul that had never loved, that had cared only for power and wealth and control, leaving only a black fuming void ringed by torn neurons and seared dendrites and a shattered, broken brain.
And Jacen suddenly found himself outside Ta’a Chume, outside himself, a passive observer outside time itself, his presence filling the entire room, the entire palace, a witness to something he could not control. He saw the whole Hapes Cluster and the whole galaxy, and all of it was burning—not just the suns, but also the planets and the moons and the asteroids, burning, every speck of stone or dust solid enough to hold a sentient foot. And the fires were traveling from place to place on tiny flickering needles of ion efflux, being set by torches carried in the hands of men and Killiks and Chiss, and the inferno just kept growing brighter, until
worlds blazed as brightly as suns and systems flared as brightly as novae, until sectors shined as brightly as the Core and the whole galaxy erupted into one huge eternal flame.
The flame vanished when a loud pounding began to echo through the spa door. “By the Queen Mother’s order, unlock the door and lie down on the floor!”
Jacen stumbled away from the beauty droid feeling horrified and confused. He had experienced enough Force-visions to recognize what had happened, but he could not bring himself to accept what he had seen. Visions were symbolic, but the meaning of this one seemed clear enough to him. The galaxy was about to erupt into a war unlike anything it had ever seen before—a war that would never end, that would spread from world to world to world until it had consumed the entire galaxy.
And the Killiks were at the heart of it.
A sharp bang sounded from the spa entrance, sending the durasteel door flying into the opposite wall and filling the chamber with an impenetrable cloud of blue smoke. Jacen pushed the massage hood back down on Ta’a Chume’s head and jumped into the sunken basin of mineral mud. He sank down to his chin and looked around him, taking careful note of the mud’s surface, then carefully expanded that illusion into the Force—as he had learned from the Adepts of the White Current.
He was not quite finished when the eye-goggled, body-armored forms of a dozen Hapan security commandos charged into the room. They advanced in a bent-legged shuffle that seemed vaguely insect-like, then rushed over to the Beauty Artist, all twelve of them pointing their assault blasters at Ta’a Chume’s unmoving form. When the old woman showed no sign of resistance, the squad leader reluctantly
lowered his weapon and placed three fingers on her throat.
“She’s alive.” He handed his assault blaster to a subordinate, then leaned over Ta’a Chume and stared into her unmoving eyes. “But get Doc up here—I think she’s had some sort of brain hemorrhage.”
A two-story hologram of the planet Woteba hung in the projection pit a few meters beyond the command console, a nearly featureless reminder of just how valid Leia’s fears really were. Han and her brother were trapped and alone on a half-known world, surrounded by insects answering to an enemy queen, and—judging by her sense of Luke’s emotions in the Force—they did not even realize they were in trouble. That was what really worried Leia. Han and Luke could take care of themselves, but only if they knew there was a need.
“Maybe the Dark Nest isn’t even
on
Woteba,” Kyp Durron suggested. “What do we know about the other planets?”
“Only that they were all as deserted as Woteba before we helped the Killiks settle there.” Leia swung her gaze toward the shaggy-haired Master. Along with Mara and Saba, they were in the Operations Planning Center in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, conversing with several other Jedi via the HoloNet. “And fourteen were habitable.”
“The Killiks weren’t interested in detailed surveys,” Mara explained. “All they wanted to know was which worlds were habitable. We have a basic planetary profile and not much else.”
“Because they didn’t
want
us to know too much.” The
comment came from Corran Horn’s hologram, arrayed with several others on a shelf curving along the back edge of the control console. “To me, it’s beginning to sound like the Killiks never intended to keep the peace with the Chiss.”
“Don’t confuse the Killiks with the Gorog,” Jaina warned. She and Zekk were sharing the hologram next to Corran’s, their heads touching above the temples and their unblinking eyes fixed straight ahead. “It was only the Dark Nest that wanted the war, not the Colony.”
“Whoever wanted it
then
, the entire Colony is clearly involved
now
,” Corran countered. “And they have Master Skywalker to guarantee that we don’t interfere with their plans again.”
“You don’t understand how the Colony’s mind works,” Zekk objected.
“It may look like the entire Colony is involved,” Jaina added, “but the Dark Nest is the one behind this.”
“Remember last time?” Zekk asked. “UnuThul summoned us to
prevent
a war.”
“That is called a false flag recruitment,” Kenth Hamner said from the end of the array. With Corran, Kenth had argued forcefully that the Killiks should be left to their own devices during the Qoribu crisis. “A valuable asset—a team of young Jedi Knights, shall we say—is convinced to undertake a mission under false pretenses.”
“That’s not how it was,” Jaina said.
“Unfortunately, we can no longer afford to give the Colony the benefit of the doubt,” Kenth said. “Until Master Skywalker and Captain Solo are safe, we must consider the evidence: despite the
fifteen
worlds we gave them—worlds that the Galactic Alliance’s own beings desperately need—the Killiks are harboring pirates and poisoning the minds and bodies of our own insect species with black membrosia.”
Jaina and Zekk spoke simultaneously. “That’s just the—”
“Let me finish.” Kenth did not raise his voice, but, even coming from a holopad speaker, his tone was as hard as durasteel. “Raynar Thul lured Master Skywalker into a trap so the Colony could take him hostage, and now the Killiks are provoking a confrontation with the Chiss. We have no choice but to assume the worst.”
“Because the
Dark Nest
has taken control!” Zekk blurted.
A tight smile came to Kenth’s hologram. “Precisely.”
Jaina rolled her eyes. “Master Hamner, if you hold the entire Colony responsible—”
“—you’re creating a self-fulfilling prophecy,” Zekk added.
“And the Killiks
will
turn on us,” Jaina finished. “Why don’t you get that?”
“What I ‘get,’ Jedi Solo, is that you and Jedi Zekk still have an emotional attachment to the Killiks.” The hologram wavered as Kenth’s gaze shifted, and now his image seemed to be looking Leia straight in the eye. “Frankly, I question the wisdom of allowing these particular Jedi Knights to participate in the discussion at all.”
“No one is more familiar with the Killiks than Jaina and Zekk.” Leia purposely allowed some of the resentment she felt to creep into her voice. After what Jaina and Zekk had sacrificed to prevent the Qoribu conflict from erupting into a galactic war, Kenth Hamner did not have the right to cast aspersions on their loyalty. “They’re our best hope of figuring out where the Dark Nest might be located.”
“I understand that.” A purple tint came to Kenth’s image, indicating that he had closed the channel to all other participants and was now conversing only with the Operations Planning Center. “But there’s something you don’t know—something that we can’t trust with your daughter
and Zekk—or with any of the Jedi Knights who spent too much time with the Killiks.”
Leia’s blood began to boil. “Master Hamner, Jaina and Zekk have already demonstrated their loyalty to the order—”
Mara cut Leia short by reaching past her and suspending transmission to everyone else. “What is it, Kenth?”
“I apologize if I offended you, Princess Leia,” Kenth said. “But Chief Omas asked me not to tell
anyone
in the order what I’m about to reveal. I hope you’ll understand. It has a bearing on our discussion.”
“Of course.” Leia understood when she was being told that she wasn’t going to hear something without a promise of confidentiality. “I won’t reveal it to anyone. I give you my word.”
“Thank you.”
Kenth’s head turned as he consulted something off cam. Kyp, Corran, and Jaina and Zekk, aware by the sudden silence from the Operations Planning Center that they had been cut out of the conversation, fell quiet and tried not to look impatient.
A moment later, Kenth’s gaze returned to his holocam. “Sorry for that, but I wanted to check the latest. The Fifth Fleet has put out for Utegetu.”
“The whole fleet?” Leia was stunned. Moving the Fifth Fleet would shift the responsibility for patrolling the entire Hydian Way to local governments—and that was not something Chief Omas would do lightly. “To do what?”
Kenth shook his head. “Those orders are sealed, but we can be certain they’re trying to appease the Chiss. What concerns me is that I only found out by accident. Someone had forgotten to remove my name from the routing list. Chief Omas called personally to ask me to keep the information to myself.”
“They don’t want us to know?” Leia gasped.
“Clearly,” Mara said. “Omas didn’t like how the Jedi handled the Killiks last time—and you must admit things aren’t going well now.”
“Do they know about Han and Luke?” Leia asked.
“Not from me,” Kenth answered. “But I doubt it would make any difference. Chief Omas was very adamant that we need to support the Chiss this time.”
“Then time is chewing our tailz,” Saba said. Standing behind Leia with Mara, she was also party to their private discussion. “We must get a team to Woteba
now
. Yez?”
“Agreed,” Kenth said. “But—”
“Then we will discusz
that
,” Saba said.
“I think we should,” Kenth said. “But Jaina and Zekk—”
“—will not be told.” Saba leaned over Leia’s shoulder and reactivated the suspended channels. “Where do we look for the Dark Nest?”
Jaina and Zekk gave a simultaneous
cloq-cloq
of surprise, and the irritation they had shown at being left out of the conversation vanished from their faces. A blue dot appeared on Woteba’s empty face, next to one of the few mapping symbols that the hologram already contained: Saras nest.
“You don’t find Gorog,” Jaina said.
“Gorog finds you,” Zekk added. “But we know the nest will be watching Han and Master Skywalker.”
“So we must watch them, too,” Jaina finished.
Leia and Mara exchanged glances. They did not have time for “watching.” The instant the Fifth Fleet entered the Utegetu Nebula, the Dark Nest would move against Han and Luke. The memory of the Kr nursery—where Luke and Mara had found thousands of Gorog larvae feeding on paralyzed Chiss prisoners—flashed through Leia’s mind, and she firmly shook her head.
“Too risky,” she said.
“They’ll see us watching,” Mara added. “And we can’t let Lomi Plo escape this time.”
“Isn’t there a faster way we can find it?” Leia asked.
Jaina and Zekk considered this for several moments, then Jaina said, “Perhaps
we
could feel where their nest is—”
“—if we went to Utegetu.”
“This one thought nobody could sense the Dark Nest in the Force,” Saba rasped. “Especially Joinerz.”
“Jaina and I might be different,” Zekk said. “We were in the nest at Kr.”
“So we know what Gorog feels like,” Jaina added.
Leia frowned. “And what about that gang of Tibanna tappers you’re supposed to be hunting?” She did not like the eagerness she heard in their voices, the desire to experience again the all-encompassing bond of a collective mind. “Cloud City’s shipments are down ten percent.”
“Lowie and Tesar can take over,” Zekk said.
“They finally found out who was hijacking the Abaarian water shipments,” Jaina added.
“Forget it,” Mara said, issuing the command before Leia could—and adding to it the authority of a Master. “You two aren’t getting within five parsecs of a Killik nest. Clear?”
Jaina and Zekk leaned away from each other, making clicking sounds in their throats and blinking in unison. “Clear,” they said.
“We were only trying to help,” Jaina added defensively.
“Sure you were,” Leia said. “Anybody have any
real
ideas?”
“I don’t think there is a way,” Kyp said immediately. “We’ve tried to trace the black membrosia back to the source and never made it past the blind drops in the Rago
Run. And with a collective mind, the Dark Nest will know if we start sniffing around the Utegetu Nebula too hard.”
“Then maybe Jaina and Zekk are right,” Corran said. “Maybe the best thing to do is to watch Han and Master Skywalker and just be patient.”
“I thought we had already ruled that out.” Though Leia’s outward voice remained calm, inside she wanted to give him a Barabel ear-slap. The one thing they did not have was time—though, of course, Corran had no way of knowing that. He had not been a part of the private conversation with Kenth. “We’ll just have to recover Luke and Han first, and hope they were able to find the Dark Nest on their own.”
“No good,” Kyp said. “That tips our hand. If the Dark Nest is watching them—”