Inferno (21 page)

The council broke into roaring peals of disbelief and outrage. But what prevented Leia from continuing was the waist-high ball of black fur that came clambering onto the rock, spitting and sputtering and pointing at the Talking Bone.

Leia stared down at Tarfang in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said. “You’re
challenging
me?”

The Ewok nodded and jabbered something nasty. The Wookiees nearest the rock cringed and looked away.

Leia glanced down at Han. “What’s with them?”

“Tarfang’s got a nasty reputation,” Han said. “Look, you’ve already made your point. Maybe you should just give him—”

“You think he can take me?” Leia turned back to Tarfang, who was standing with his hands on his hips glaring at her. “
That
little rugger?”

Leia’s insult came to an abrupt end as Tarfang flew at her head, all flailing claws and gnashing teeth. She dropped to her side and rolled, bringing her leg up behind him and catching him in the small of the back with a form-perfect roundhouse kick.

The blow launched the Ewok off the far end of rock, where he vanished into a mass of astonished fur-faces. Leia returned to her feet and started to step over to see what had happened to him—then heard a snarl of rage coming from somewhere down around the knees of several nearby Wookiees. As they scrambled to get out of the way, Leia looked over at Han.

“I can’t believe I have to do this,” she said. “Brawling with an Ewok?”

“You could always let him have the bone.” Han glanced over at where Tarfang had disappeared, then added, “Watch it!”

The Ewok came sailing back onto the rock as though he had been fired from a missile launcher. Leia pivoted away, presenting her flank and lifting the jawbone out of reach. She saw Tarfang purse his lips and realized something disgusting was about to come flying her way.

Leia tried to duck, but was too slow and caught a spray of blood and broken teeth full in the face. Her vision went instantly red and blurry, and then the Ewok was on her, slamming his brow into her temple, clamping his tiny hands around her throat, slamming his little knees into her ribs and chest.

Leia heard Han yelling,
“Hey! No claws!”
then felt herself going down and barely managed to toss the bone aside so she didn’t land on top of it. Tarfang immediately switched tactics, releasing his choke hold to slam her skull against the stone instead.

Leia’s head exploded into stars, and when she felt it being pulled up for another blow, she began to realize the Ewok intended to do more than just steal the Talking Bone. She drove her elbow up into his stomach, putting the Force behind it, then felt hair ripping out as Tarfang tumbled away.

To her astonishment, there was no roaring for her or against her, no one complaining she had used the Force; even Han was quiet. The entire Rock Council had fallen silent, and the Force was charged with surprise and curiosity. Leia sprang to her feet. Half expecting her crazed opponent to come flying at her with claw and fang, she turned to find the Talking Bone lying unclaimed between them. Tarfang was scowling at the crowd, looking every bit as confused as Leia.

Keeping one eye on the Ewok, Leia extended her Force-awareness over the entire expanse of Council Rock—and quickly realized why everyone had fallen silent.

“Luke?”
she gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“The same thing you are.” Luke’s voice came from the fringe of the crowd, near the entrance. “I came to address the Rock Council.”

A triangular furrow appeared in the crowd as the Wookiees stepped aside to let him pass. A few moments later, Leia saw her brother for the first time since her glimpse at Mara’s funeral. His eyes were bloodshot and sunken with exhaustion, and his complexion was the color of durasteel. But his jaw was set and his shoulders square, and he was leading Saba Sebatyne and the other Council Masters toward the Council Rock with a strong, purposeful gait.

Leia knelt at the edge of the platform and offered her hand. When he allowed her to pull him up, she asked quietly, “Luke, how
are
you?”

He smiled and squeezed her shoulder, then admitted, “I’ve been better.” He gestured at the tyrossum jaw lying on the rock. “Do you mind?”

Leia shook her head. “Be my guest.”

Luke turned to Tarfang. “How about you?”

The Ewok picked up the jawbone and dragged it over. He glared up at Leia, then dropped the bone at Luke’s feet and jabbered something that sounded vaguely like “She’s
your
problem now.”

“Thank you.”

Luke picked up the Talking Bone, then waited politely for Leia and Tarfang to yield the platform. Leia gave Han a summoning nod, then dropped off the stone next to Saba.

“Master Seb…” Leia’s throat went dry, and she had to pause to wet it. “Master Sebatyne, it’s good to see you again.”

Saba shook her head. “It will be good to go on the hunt together again,” she said. “But this is
not
a good day for anyone, Jedi Solo—especially not for you.”

Before Leia could ask what Saba meant, Luke began to address the Rock Council in a voice as sad as it was weary.

“I’m sure the Rock Council has heard of the assassination of Cal Omas,” he said. “And of my son Ben’s involvement in it.”

A murmur of acknowledgment rustled through the Rock Council, and Leia began to have a terrible feeling that she knew what was coming next.

“What you probably don’t know is that Jacen Solo arranged it.” The Rock Council received this news in utter, stunned silence, and Luke pressed on. “Therefore, the Jedi Council has voted to begin active opposition to his continued leadership of the Galactic Alliance, and we have come to Kashyyyk to ask the Wookiees to join us.”

thirteen

Ben found his cousin on the bridge of the
Anakin Solo,
a gaunt black-clad figure silhouetted by flashing fans of turbolaser fire, staring out the Tactical Salon viewport as though he could actually make sense of the conflagration he had ignited. It occurred to Ben that he was finally seeing Jacen in his true form: a stain on the galaxy, a shadow spreading fire across the stars. He pushed that recognition from his mind as quickly as it had come. If Ben wanted to get close enough to kill his cousin, he had to keep his thoughts pure, to actually
believe
in the dark dream again. Jacen would see through anything less—Omas had been right about that much, at least.

A dozen analysts were bustling around the holodisplay of the battle in the center of the Tactical Salon, and several glanced in Ben’s direction. Their eyes flashed sometimes with sympathy and sometimes with scorn, but no one seemed surprised to see him, and no one offered a nod of greeting. Even Jacen’s administrative aide—the cheeky Jenet, Orlopp—was careful to ignore Ben and continue clicking his datapad.

Clearly, Jacen was determined to make Ben lick decks before taking him back. It was a good sign. Were Jacen planning a bad end for Ben, he would have tried to put him at ease. But it rankled nonetheless, and only the memory of that last happy afternoon with his mother gave him the strength to reach for the contrition and embarrassment he would need to fool Jacen.

Ben was still trying to summon the feelings when his head began to prickle beneath the pressure of someone’s careful inspection. At first, he was confused about where the scrutiny came from, since the tactical staff continued to ignore him and his cousin’s eyes had not strayed from the unrelenting battle beyond the viewport. Then a small Force tug summoned Ben forward, and he realized Jacen had been studying him with a faculty other than sight.

“I must say, you Skywalkers continue to surprise me.” Jacen’s gaze shifted so that he was looking at Ben’s reflection in the viewport. “Did you come all the way out here to gloat? Or are you just here to slip away with the fleet’s bacta supply?”

“I’m sorry about Dad.” Ben started forward, circling wide around the holodisplay to avoid interfering with the analysts. Jacen’s back was still turned to him, but he knew better than to think he stood any chance of killing his cousin now. He would have to be patient, win Jacen’s trust again, and then strike. “I didn’t think he’d blame you for Omas.”

“That’s the trouble. You
didn’t
think—not at all.” Jacen turned and faced Ben. “You killed a former
Chief of State
of the Galactic Alliance. Technically, he was
still
the Chief. The Senate hadn’t even had a chance to begin a formal inquiry.”

Ben stopped in front of Jacen and shrugged. “He killed Mom,” he said, forcing himself to believe in the lie. “I’ll stand trial if you want.”

Jacen shook his head. “There
can’t
be a trial. It would look like GAG sent you.”

The outrage, Ben knew, was feigned. He had done exactly as Jacen had hoped he would—though a lot less smoothly. If his cousin was angry about anything, it was about how badly he had botched the operation. Still, he did his best to believe Jacen’s act, so that his Force presence would feel properly chastened.

“As far as the public is concerned,” Jacen continued, “you were trying to
save
him—just like the holonews is saying. Is that clear?”

Ben nodded. “Yes, sir, if that’s what you want.”

“What I
want
is to throw you in a detention cell and weld the door shut. But that’s not the best thing for the Alliance, so count yourself lucky.” Jacen ran his gaze over Ben’s black GAG uniform, then said, “Now tell me why you risked your life to fly out here through the middle of a battle—and what you’re doing in uniform.”

“I’m reporting for duty,” Ben said simply.

“After what you accused me of?” Jacen’s brow shot up in carefully rehearsed disbelief, and it grew apparent that he had received Ben in the Tactical Salon for more than the satisfaction of public groveling. He wanted witnesses to hear a Skywalker say he hadn’t murdered Mara. “Does this mean you
don’t
think I had anything to do with your mother’s death?”

“
Omas
is the one I killed,” Ben answered. He could probably have hidden an outright lie from Jacen, but he found himself reluctant to actually
speak
the words, as though that might somehow absolve Jacen of the crime. “There’s your answer.”

All too confident in his ability to manipulate Ben, Jacen didn’t even hesitate to accept it. “I suppose so. I only wish that undid the damage.”

Motioning for Ben to follow, he led the way into the commander’s office at the back of the salon. Though the cabin contained both a desk and a small conference table with several chairs, Jacen did not go to either. He simply closed the door and opaqued the transparisteel privacy partition, then turned so fast that Ben began to fear his cousin knew exactly why he had returned.

“Who else did you share your suspicions with?” Jacen demanded. “Your father?”

Ben shook his head. “I didn’t talk about it with anyone.”

“You’re lying.” Jacen stepped closer. “Why else would he have deserted me when he did?”

“I didn’t say
anything.
” Ben found himself retreating toward a corner and stopped. It would not do to get himself trapped. “I didn’t have proof, and I didn’t think anybody would listen to me.”

“He wanted to wound me, Ben.” Jacen continued to advance, coming so close that Ben could feel his breath as he spoke. “To wound the
Alliance.
Why would he do that, unless you had convinced him that I had killed your mother?”

“I d-don’t know.” Actually, his father had explained over a secure comm channel that Omas’s assassination was the final outrage in a whole series that had sent him nova, but the angry gleam in Jacen’s eye suggested there was no use telling him he had brought this on
himself.
“It wasn’t because of anything
I
told him. Honest.”

Jacen stopped so close that their toes touched, and he began to stare through Ben to somewhere about a light-year beyond Kuat, his Force aura crackling with anger.

“Look,” Ben said, allowing his hand to drop toward his lightsaber, “if I
had
told Dad that I thought you killed Mom, he would have done a lot more than desert. One of you would be
dead
now.”

The comment seemed to draw Jacen back into the cabin. His gaze dropped to the hand hovering above Ben’s lightsaber, then a glimmer of astonishment came to his eyes. He stepped away.

“You may have a point,” he said, smiling faintly. “But that doesn’t mean I should take you back. I don’t know that I can trust you anymore.”

Ben nodded; he had been expecting this. “Trust is in short supply these days. So what? You need me.”

Jacen cocked his brow and said nothing.

“With Dad and the Jedi gone, I’m good for your image,” he said. “And I’m a pretty decent assassin.”

“Not
that
decent.” Jacen turned away, presenting his back to Ben, then sighed wearily. “Tell me this, Ben—what am I to do about your father?”

“About his desertion?” As much as Ben ached to plant his lightsaber between Jacen’s shoulders at that moment, his cousin’s “mistake”—turning his back to him—seemed just a little too deliberate. He moved his hand away from the weapon, then asked, “What
can
you do?”

Jacen made a
tsk
ing sound and continued to stare at the blank wall. “How quickly you forget, Ben. Wasn’t taking the academy hostage one of the, um,
items
that convinced you I was acting guilty?”

Ben’s heart dropped so fast his knees almost buckled. Until now, he had never imagined Jacen would actually
harm
the students—but a couple of weeks earlier, he couldn’t have imagined Jacen working with Lumiya, either. Or killing his mother. Ben covered his alarm by recalling his reaction to Lumiya’s voice coming from Jacen’s GAG office, then pulled that same confusion over his mind like a cloak.

“I guess that’s right…,” he said slowly. “But I don’t think those students are going to replace Dad and the rest of the Jedi. Most of them haven’t even built their first lightsaber.”