Star Wars - Thrawn Trilogy - Dark Force Rising 02 (36 page)

"It's on the other side of the wall," the officer growled. Brushing past her, he stepped to the terminal she'd just left. "Were you fiddling with this?" he asked, tapping a few keys.

"No," Mara assured him. "Why?"

"Never mind it's still locked down," the officer muttered under his breath. For a moment he looked around the area, as if searching for some other reason Mara might have wanted to be back here. But there was nothing; and almost reluctantly, he brought his attention back to her again. "I've got orders to give you transport down to the planet."

"I know," she nodded. "I'm ready."

The shuttle lifted and turned and headed off into the sky. Standing by the Etherway's ramp, the stink of burned paving still thick in the air, Mara watched the Imperial craft disappear over the top of the landing pit. "Aves?" she called. "Come on, Aves, you've got to be here somewhere."

"Turn around and put your hands up," the voice came from the shadows inside the ship's hatchway. "All the way up. Ai,d don't forget I know about that little sleeve gun of yours.

"The Imperials have it now," Mara said as she turned her back to him and raised her hands. "And I'm not here for a fight. I came for help."

"You want help, go to your new friends upstairs," Aves retorted. "Or maybe they were always your friends, huh?"

He was goading her, Mara knew, pushing for a chance to vent his own anger and frustration in an argument or gun battle. "I didn't betray him, Aves," she said. "I got picked up by the Imperials and blew them a smoke ring that I thought would buy us enough time to get out. It didn't."

"I don't believe you," Aves said flatly. There was a muffled clank of boot on metal as he came cautiously down the ramp.

"No, you believe me," Mara shook her head. "You wouldn't have come here if you didn't."

She felt a breath of air on the back of her neck as he stepped close behind her. "Don't move," he ordered. Reaching carefully to her left arm, he pulled the sleeve down to reveal the empty holster. He checked her other sleeve, then ran a hand down each side of her body. "All right, turn around," he said, stepping back again.

She did so. He was standing a meter away from her, his face tight, his blaster pointed at her stomach. "Turn the question around, Aves," she suggested. "If I betrayed Karrde to the Imperials, why would I come back here? Especially alone?"

"Maybe you needed to get something from the Etherway," he countered harshly. "Or maybe it's just a trick to try to round up the rest of us."

Mara braced herself. "If you really believe that," she said quietly, "you might as well go ahead and shoot. I can't get Karrde out of there without your help."

For a long minute Aves stood there in silence. Mara watched his face, trying to ignore the white-knuckled hand holding the blaster. "The others won't help you, you know," he said. "Half of them think you've been manipulating Karrde from the minute you joined up. Most of the rest figure you for the type who switches loyalties twice a year anyway.

Mara grimaced. "That was true once, she admitted. "Not anymore.

"You got any way to prove that?"

"Yeah-by getting Karrde out," Mara retorted. "Look, I haven't got time to talk. You going to help, or shoot?"

He hesitated for a handful of heartbeats. Then, almost reluctantly, he lowered the blaster until it was pointed at the ground. "I'm probably scribing my own death mark," he growled. "What do you need?"

"For starters, a ship," Mara said, silently letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Something smaller and faster than the Etherway. One of those three boosted Skipray blastboats we brought in from Vagran would do nicely. I'll also need one of those ysalamiri we've been carrying around on the Wild Karrde. Preferably on a nutrient frame that's portable."

Aves frowned. "What do you want with an ysalamir?"

"I'm going to talk to a Jedi," she said briefly. "I need a guarantee he'll listen."

Aves studied her a moment, then shrugged. "I suppose I really don't want to know. What else?"

Mara shook her head. "That's it."

His eyes narrowed. "That's it?"

"That's it. How soon can you get them to me?"

Aves pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Let's say an hour," he said. "That big swamp about fifty kilometers north of the city-you know it?"

Mara nodded. "There's a soggy sort of island near the eastern edge."

"Right. You bring the Etherway to the island and we do the switch there." He glanced up at the freighter towering over him. "If you think it's safe to move it."

"It should be for now," Mara said. "Thrawn told me he'd lifted all the search and detention orders for the rest of the group. But you'd better disappear anyway after I go. He'll have the whole Fleet screaming down your necks again if and when I get Karrde out. Better run a fine-edge scan on the Etherway before you take it anywhere, though-there has to be a homing beacon aboard for Thrawn to have gotten the jump on me the way he did." She felt her lip twitch. "And knowing Thrawn, he's probably got someone tailing me, too. I'll have to get rid of him before I leave the planet."

"I can give you a hand with that," Aves said grimly. "We're disappearing anyway, right?"

"Right." Mara paused, trying to think if there was anything else she needed to tell him. "I guess that's it. Let's get going."

"Right." Aves hesitated. "I still don't know whose side you're on, Mara. If you're on ours:good luck."

She nodded, feeling a hard lump settle into her throat. "Thanks."

Two hours later she was strapped into the Skipray's cockpit, a strange and unpleasant sense of d?j? vu burning through her as she drove toward deep space. It had been in a ship just like this one that she'd screamed off into the sky over the Myrkr forest a few weeks ago, in hot pursuit of an escaped prisoner. Now, like a twisted repeat of history, she once again found herself chasing after Luke Skywalker.

Only this time, she wasn't trying to kill or capture him. This time, she was going to plead for his help.

The last pair of villagers detached themselves from the group standing at the back wall and made their way to ward the raised judgment seat. C'baoth stood there, watching them come; and then, as Luke had known he would, the Jedi Master stood up. "Jedi Skywalker," he said, gesturing Luke to the seat. "The final case of the evening is yours."

"Yes, Master C'baoth," Luke said, bracing himself as he stepped over and gingerly sat down. It was, to his mind, a thoroughly uncomfortable chair: too warm, too large, and far too ornate. Even more than the rest of C'baoth's home, it had an alien smell to it, and a strangely disturbing aura that Luke could only assume was a lingering aftereffect of the hours the Jedi Master had spent in it judging his people.

Now it was Luke's turn to do so.

Taking a deep breath, trying to push back the fatigue that had become a permanent part of him, he nodded at the two villagers. "I'm ready," he said. "Please begin."

It was a relatively simple case, as such things went. The first villager's livestock had gotten through the second's fence and had stripped half a dozen of his fruit bushes before they'd been discovered and driven back. The animals' owner was willing to pay compensation for the ruined bushes, but the second was insisting that he also rebuild the fence. The first countered that a properly built fence wouldn't have failed in the first place and that, furthermore, his livestock had suffered injuries from the sharp edges as they went through. Luke sat quietly and let them talk, waiting until the arguments and counterarguments finally ended.

"All right," he said. "In the matter of the fruit bushes themselves, my judgment is that you"-he nodded to the first villager-"will pay for the replacement of those damaged beyond repair, plus an additional payment to compensate for the fruit eaten or destroyed by your livestock. The latter amount will be determined by the village council."

Beside him C'baoth stirred, and Luke winced at the disapproval he could sense from the Jedi Master. For a second he floundered, wondering if he should back up and try a different solution. But changing his mind so abruptly didn't sound like a good thing to do. And anyway, he really didn't have any better ideas.

So what was he doing here?

He looked around the room, fighting against a sudden flush of nervousness. They were all looking at him: C'baoth, the two supplicants, the rest of the villagers who'd come tonight for Jedi judgment. All of them expecting him to make the right decision.

"As to the fence, I'll examine it tomorrow morning," he continued. "I want to see how badly it was damaged before I make my decision.

The two men bowed and backed away. "I therefore declare this session to be closed," C'baoth called. His voice echoed grandly, despite the relatively small size of the room. An interesting effect, and Luke found himself wondering if it was a trick of the room's acoustics or yet another Jedi technique that Master Yoda had never taught him. Though why he would ever need such a technique he couldn't imagine.

The last of the villagers filed out of the room. C'baoth cleared his throat; reflexively, Luke braced himself. "I sometimes wonder, Jedi Skywalker," the old man said gravely, "whether or not you have really been listening to me these past few days.

"I'm sorry, Master C'baoth," Luke said, an all too familiar lump sticking in his throat. No matter how hard he tried, it seemed, he was never quite able to measure up to C'baoth's expectations.

"Sorry?" C'baoth's eyebrows rose sardonically. "Sorry? Jedi Skywalker, you had it all right there in your hands. You should have cut off their prattle far sooner than you did-your time is too valuable to waste with petty recriminations. You should have made the decision yourself on the amount of compensation, but instead gave it over to that absurd excuse of a village council. And as to the fence-" He shook his head in mild disgust. "There was absolutely no reason for you to postpone judgment on that. Everything you needed to know about the damage was right there in their minds. It should have been no trouble, even for you, to have pulled that from them."

Luke swallowed. "Yes, Master C'baoth," he said. "But reading another person's thoughts that way seems wrong-"

"When you are using that knowledge to help him?" C'baoth countered. "How can that be wrong?"

Luke waved a hand helplessly. "I'm trying to understand, Master C'baoth. But this is all so new to me."

C'baoth's bushy eyebrows lifted. "Is it, Jedi Skywalker? Is it really? You mean you ve never violated someone's personal preference in order to help him? Or ignored some minor bureaucratic rule that stood between you and what needed to be done?"

Luke felt his cheeks flush, thinking back to Lando's use of that illegal slicer code to get his X-wing repaired at the Sluis Van shipyards. "Yes, I've done that on occasion," he admitted. "But this is different, somehow. It feels : I don't know. Like I'm taking more responsibility for these people's lives than I should."

"I understand your concerns," C'baoth said, less severely this time. "But that is indeed the crux of the matter. It is precisely the acceptance and wielding of responsibility that sets a Jedi apart from all others in the galaxy." He sighed deeply. "You must never forget, Luke, that in the final analysis these people are primitives. Only with our guidance can they ever hope to achieve any real maturity."

"I wouldn't call them primitive, Master C'baoth," Luke suggested hesitantly. "They have modern technology, a reasonably efficient system of government-"

"The trappings of civilization without the substance," C'baoth said with a contemptuous snort. Machines and societal constructs do not define a culture's maturity, Jedi Skywalker. Maturity is defined solely by the understanding and use of the Force."

His eyes drifted away, as if peering into the past. "There was such a society once, Luke," he said softly. "A vast and shining example of the heights all could aspire to. For a thousand generations we stood tall among the lesser beings of the galaxy, guardians of justice and order. The creators of true civilization. The Senate could debate and pass laws; but it was the Jedi who turned those laws into reality."

His mouth twisted. "And in return, the galaxy destroyed us."

Luke frowned. "I thought it was just the Emperor and a few Dark Jedi who exterminated the Jedi."

C'baoth smiled bitterly. "Do you truly believe that even the Emperor could have succeeded in such a task without the consent of the entire galaxy?" He shook his head. "No, Luke. They hated us-all the lesser beings did. Hated us for our power, and or knowledge, and our wisdom. Hated us for our maturity." His smile vanished. "And that hatred still exists. Waiting only for the Jedi to reemerge to blaze up again."

Luke shook his head slowly. It didn't really seem to fit with what little he knew about the destruction of the Jedi. But on the other hand, he hadn't lived through that era. C'baoth had. "Hard to believe," he murmured.

"Believe it, Jedi Skywalker," C'baoth rumbled. His eyes caught Luke's, burning suddenly with a cold fire. "That's why we must stand together, you and I. Why we must never let down our guard before a universe that would destroy us. Do you understand?"

"I think so," Luke said, rubbing at the corner of his eye. His mind felt so sluggish in the fatigue dragging at him. And yet, even as he tried to think about C'baoth's words, images flowed unbidden from his memory. Images of Master Yoda, gruff but unafraid, with no trace of bitterness or anger toward anyone at the destruction of his fellow Jedi. Images of Ben Kenobi in the Mos Eisley cantina, treated with a sort of aloof respect, but respect nonetheless, after he'd been forced to cut down those two troublemakers.

And clearest of all, images of his encounter at the New Cov tapcafe. Of the Barabel, asking for the mediation of a stranger, and accepting without question even those parts of Luke's judgment that had gone against him. Of the rest of the crowd, watching with hope and expectation and relief that a Jedi was there to keep things from getting out of hand. "I haven't experienced any such hatred."