Authors: Troy Denning
“We
can
be discreet,” Mara said in a tone that would abide no argument. “We’re Jedi, remember?”
The rebuke in her tone made Corran wince, Kyp cock his brow, and Jaina and Zekk tilt their heads. There was a long moment of silence in which those who had not been privy to Kenth’s secret were clearly trying to figure out why everyone else was in such a hurry.
Then a knowing light came to Kyp’s brown eyes. “You’re worried about your husbands!” He flashed a reassuring smile that came off as more of a smirk in the hologram. “That’s only natural, ladies. But Han and Master Skywalker can take care of themselves. I’ve been in worse places than this with both of them, lots of times.”
Mara sighed. “No, Kyp, that’s not it.”
“What Master Skywalker means is that we need to act quickly,” Kenth said. “With the Colony provoking the Chiss again, the situation is too unpredictable. The sooner we resolve this, the less likely it is to blow up in our faces worse than it already has.”
Corran nodded sagely. “Our reputation has already taken a bad hit, especially in the Senate.”
Kyp looked doubtful. “That’s it? You’re worried that things might get a little messy?”
“Yes, Kyp, that’s it,” Leia said. “Except that if things get messy, they’re going to get
very
messy. We need to prove to the Chiss—and everyone else—that the Jedi can be counted on.”
Kyp considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay. But we need a backup plan, because we’re never going to get to Han and Luke without the Dark Nest knowing. Those bugs are good.”
“Good?” Saba sissed in amused disbelief. “You spent too much of your life in the spice minez, Kyp Durron. There is too much methane in them. They taste like a—”
“I think he meant they were skilled observers, Master Sebatyne,” Leia said. “I’m sure that Master Durron has never actually eaten a Gorog.”
“No?” Saba’s tail thumped the floor. “Not even a little one?”
“Not even a taste.” Kyp was quick to change the subject. “Now, about our backup plan. I have one.”
“That was easy,” Corran said. “Will it work?”
“Of course,” Kyp said. “We just take out Raynar and the Unu.”
“Kill them?” Corran’s tone was shocked.
Kyp grew thoughtful. “That would work, too, and it would be a lot easier than bringing Raynar back here alive—at least if he’s as powerful as everyone says.”
“You can’t!” Zekk objected. “It would destroy the Colony!”
“Actually, it would only return the Killiks to their natural state,” Mara corrected. “There
was
no Colony until Raynar came along.”
“That’s like saying there was no Jedi order until Uncle Luke came along,” Jaina countered.
“You can’t destroy an interstellar civilization just because it didn’t exist ten years ago,” Zekk added.
“Probably not,” Kenth replied. “But when that civilization refuses to honor its agreements and live in peace with its neighbors, we may find ourselves duty-bound to try.”
“I might argue with that,” Corran said. “War is one thing. But assassination … that’s not something Jedi
do
.”
“Especially when you have a better way to handle the problem,” Jaina said.
“Jaina,” Leia said, “if you’re talking about you and Zekk going back to the Killiks, forget it.”
“Why?” Zekk demanded. “Because you’re afraid you’ll lose us the way you lost Anakin?”
Coming from Zekk’s mouth instead of Jaina’s, the question felt just bizarre enough that the dagger of loss it drove into Leia’s chest did not find her heart. She retained her composure and studied her daughter’s image in silence, but Jaina was too tough to be stared down over the HoloNet. She simply accepted Leia’s glare with the unblinking eyes of a Joiner, then spoke in an even voice.
“We’re sorry, Mother. That was uncalled-for.”
“But we’re still Jedi,” Zekk added. “You can’t stop us from doing what Jedi do.”
Mara leaned close to the holocam and spoke in a sharp voice. “She isn’t trying to—and you know it.” She waited until the pair gave a grudging nod, then asked, “But if you can do this in a better way, let’s hear it.”
Jaina’s and Zekk’s eyes bugged in surprise. “You’d send us back?”
“
If
that was the best way,” Mara said. “Of course.”
Leia stiffened and would have objected, save that Saba sensed what she was about to do and gave a warning hiss.
It had not been her place to tell Jaina and Zekk to forget returning to the Killiks, and now Mara had to waste valuable time correcting the mistake. After a lifetime of leadership in both politics and the military, Leia sometimes found it difficult to remember that in the Jedi order, she was technically just another Jedi Knight—and, as far as Saba was concerned, a fairly junior one at that.
After a few moments’ silence from Jaina and Zekk, Mara prompted, “We’re listening.”
Jaina and Zekk furrowed their brows, then Jaina finally said, “We could talk to UnuThul.”
“And say what?” Kyp demanded. “That he should make the Killiks stop harboring pirates and running black membrosia?”
“You said Gorog was controlling him,” Zekk pointed out. “We could make him see that.”
“Or watch him until Gorog shows herself,” Jaina said. “Then follow her to her nest.”
“Listen to yourselvez!” Saba said, leaning over Leia toward the holocam. “
That
is why you cannot go.”
“I agree,” Kenth said. “You’re both outstanding Jedi. But when it comes to the Colony, it’s clear that all you want is to return.”
“You can’t go back,” Kyp agreed. “It would be bad for you and worse for us.”
In the face of the Masters’ opposition, Jaina and Zekk dropped their gazes. “Sorry,” Jaina said.
“We’ll go back to the Tibanna tappers.”
As Zekk spoke, a hailing light activated on the command console.
“It’s just that—”
“Hold on,” Leia said, relieved to have an excuse to cut off Zekk’s plea. “Someone’s trying to contact us on this end.”
She opened a sequestered holochannel, and the pink, high-domed head of a Mon Calamari appeared over an empty holopad.
“Cilghal!” Leia said. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”
“Analyzing that froth turned out to be easier than we had feared.”
“That’s good news,” Leia said.
“Not really,” Cilghal replied.
“Is this something the whole planning group will need to hear?” Mara asked.
Cilghal’s short eyestalks sagged. “Probably so.”
Leia patched the Mon Calamari’s channel into the network. “Cilghal has made some progress on the Dark Nest’s froth.”
“Actually, I doubt the Dark Nest is responsible for the froth,” Cilghal said. “From what we know of Killik society, they have no nanotechnology abilities at all.”
“Nanotech?” Kyp echoed. “As in molecule machines?”
“As in
self-replicating
molecule machines,” Cilghal corrected. “The sample that Master Sebatyne gave me appears to be a terraforming system. From what I can tell, it’s designed to create and maintain an environmental balance optimal for its creators.”
“Yes,” Saba said. “But what does it
do
?”
“I’m not sure we’ll ever understand completely.” Cilghal steepled her webbed fingers beneath her chin tentacles. “It’s very advanced, far beyond any nanotechnology capabilities here in the Galactic Alliance.”
Saba rasped in impatience.
“Basically,” Cilghal continued, “the system consists of many different kinds of tiny machines. Some of those machines monitor the soil, the air, the water. When they detect a notable imbalance in the environment, they join together
and become machines that disassemble the contaminants, molecule by molecule, then use that raw material to build more machines. That’s what is happening when you see the froth.”
“And these contaminants,” Corran said. “They are …?”
“Whatever lies outside the system parameters,” Cilghal said. “Toxic spills, spinglass buildings, droids, Killiks—in short, anything in sufficient amounts that wasn’t on Woteba when Leia and Han found it.”
Leia’s heart sank. Moving the Killiks to Woteba had felt a little too convenient all along, and now she knew there was a reason.
“This is great news!” Jaina said.
“The Colony isn’t lying to us after all!” Zekk added.
“Don’t start your victory rolls yet,” Kyp warned. “Maybe the Killiks didn’t make this stuff, but the Dark Nest is still using it to turn the Colony against us.”
“Only until UnuThul understands what happened,” Zekk said.
“Once we disable the nanotech, he’ll see that we weren’t trying to trick him,” Jaina added.
“I’m afraid he’s going to have to take our word for it,” Cilghal said.
Jaina and Zekk frowned. “Why?”
“Because the system is probably worldwide, and it is certainly very resilient.” Cilghal interlaced her fingers, then her hands dropped out of the hologram. “If the supernova didn’t destroy it—”
“Supernova?” Corran asked. “What supernova?”
“The one that created the Utegetu Nebula,” Leia clarified. There were many different kinds of nebulae, and most of them did not result from supernova explosions. “The Utegetu is a shell nebula.”
“I see,” Corran said.
“The blast would have destroyed all life on every planet within a dozen parsecs,” Cilghal continued. “But my assistant’s calculations suggest that the nebula is only a thousand standard years old.”
“And you think the nanotech survived to restore Woteba and the other worlds,” Leia surmised.
“Yes. Otherwise, the planets would still be dead.” Cilghal glanced at something out of view, then said, “We calculate that it would have taken only a year or two for the first pockets of soil to become fertile again, and there would have been plenty of seeds trapped where the blast radiation wouldn’t destroy them.”
“But the animals wouldn’t have lasted,” Mara said. “They would have starved within months.”
Cilghal nodded. “And that is how you end up with a cluster of empty paradise worlds.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance of Raynar believing all this?” Corran asked.
“We’ll certainly do our best to persuade him,” Leia said. “But I suspect the Dark Nest will convince him that we’re lying.”
“What do you two think?” Mara asked Jaina and Zekk.
They were silent for a moment; then they reluctantly shook their heads.
“Unu has already put the Colony’s plans in motion,” Zekk said.
Jaina added, “It will be easier to believe the Dark Nest.”
“Then we’re back to where we started,” Leia said. “Recover Han and Luke, then hope we can find the Dark Nest—and take it out this time.”
When no one voiced an objection, Corran asked, “What about our backup plan? I just don’t see assassinating Raynar as an option.”
The discussion descended into an uncomfortable silence
as they all considered their own interpretation of what it meant to be a Jedi. Not so long ago, during the war against the Yuuzhan Vong, they would not have hesitated to do
whatever
was necessary to safeguard the order and the Galactic Alliance. But Luke had been growing increasingly uncomfortable with that attitude, and over the last year he had quietly been encouraging Jedi Knights and Masters alike to contemplate just where the balance lay between good intention and wrong action.
Corran Horn, as usual in matters of conscience, came to his answer more quickly than most. “War is one thing, but taking out Raynar is murder.”
“Maybe it’s just because my husband is out there, but it seems more like self-defense to me,” Mara said. “It feels like the Dark Nest is coming after us.”
“It is more than a feeling,” Saba said. “First there are the piratez and the black membrosia, then they lure Master Skywalker to Woteba, and now they are establishing Coloniez along the Chisz border. Who knowz what is next? They have been hunting us for a long time, and we have been asleep under our rockz.”
“We’ve certainly given them the initiative,” Kenth agreed. “And we need to win it back now. If that means taking Raynar out, so be it. Clearly, he intends to use Han and Master Skywalker as hostages, and that makes him a legitimate target.”
“Even if he’s under the Dark Nest’s control?” Corran countered. “We can’t be sure that he’s responsible for his own actions.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Kyp said. “You guys are really overthinking this. It’s simple: Raynar is a Jedi, and now he’s becoming a threat to the galaxy. He’s our responsibility, and we have to stop him.
How
we do that matters a lot less than whether we still can.”
The uncomfortable silence returned to the participants, and the eyes in all of the holograms vanished from sight as the Jedi on the other end stared at their respective floors.
Finally, Jaina and Zekk clicked several times in the back of their throats, then looked up and nodded.
“Master Durron is right,” Jaina said.
“Raynar
is
our responsibility,” Zekk added. “The Jedi must do whatever it takes to stop him.”
A gentle Woteban breeze was wafting across the bog, cool and damp and filled with acrid wisps of the peat smoke rising from the chimneys of the nearest Saras tunnel-house. Close by, the serpentine skeletons of ten more structures were beginning to take shape beneath the bustling anarchy of Killik construction crews. A kilometer beyond, at the far edge of the nest expansion, more insects were moving hamogoni pilings off a steady stream of lumber sleds.
“Oh, boy,” Luke said, eyeing all the new construction. “This is bad.”
“Only if there are contaminants,” Han said. “If there aren’t any, it might be okay.”
Their Saras escort, a chest-high worker that had been waiting to meet the logging sled on which they had hitched a ride back to the nest, thrummed a short question.
“Saras wishes to know what might be okay,” C-3PO informed them. “And why you are so worried about contaminants.”
“
Bur ru ub br urrb
,” the insect added. “
Rrrrr uu uu bub
.”
“Oh, dear,” C-3PO said. “Saras says the nest has a perfectly sound method of disposing of toxins—it pumps them into the bog!”
“Great,” Han growled. He turned to Luke. “We gotta get off this sponge before we start glowing or something.”