Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [134]
He found them. Touched them with his mind. They were huge, greater in mass than he had imagined; even so, he used the Force to push.
Dorsk 81 strained, touching the cluster of ships … but they proved immovable, too large. The Force held them, yet it could not do what he needed it to do. He tried harder.
He drew more energy from the others. He could feel the determination and controlled anger of Kyp Durron, the clean fighting prowess of Kirana Ti, the powerful deep knowledge of Tionne, the grim pain of Kam Solusar, the childlike wonder of Streen—and more … more. He took all of the Jedi trainees within himself, braiding the threads together, becoming a vast and complex set of memories, strengths, and skills. He reached deeper and deeper.
The Force seemed to be a bottomless well, offering more than he had thought possible—but as Dorsk 81 pulled it inside himself, he also felt the danger, the destructive potential: too much of this strength could be his downfall.
He pushed again, straining harder, abandoning all caution.
The Star Destroyers moved slightly in space, bucking and resisting—but it was still not enough. In his mind Dorsk 81 saw yet another wing of TIE fighters launched with orders to finish the destruction of the Jedi Knights.
That must never happen.
Dorsk 81 exerted his mind to the breaking point. His body trembled. His yellow eyes saw nothing around him now, because every thought was focused out into space where Pellaeon’s Star Destroyers waited.
You are a Jedi Knight, Kyp had told him, and sometimes that means we must make difficult decisions.
Dorsk 81 knew this, knew it in his heart—and he didn’t allow fear. The Force was with him. Perhaps more Force than he could handle … but he still had a mission to perform. No matter what it might take.
All the other Jedi Knights depended on him alone, and he knew that this was what he had to accomplish. This was the deed that his predecessor Dorsk 80 would never be able to comprehend.
Without a second thought, without hesitation, Dorsk 81 reached all the way down, drawing from the deep wells of Force that the thirty gathered Jedi Knights had opened for him. He took more and more without restraint, hoarding it within himself, letting it build as he absorbed the full searing power amplified through the Great Temple, focused it through his body and launched it at the fleet of Star Destroyers.
“Move!” he shouted.
The words themselves were like power incarnate, white-hot energy flaming out of his mouth, from his fingertips, surging through his body and burning, burning.
The inside of his head went bright like a star going supernova behind his skull, and his consciousness rode along with the tidal wave of Force. He felt it strike the seventeen Star Destroyers, and they slammed backward like twigs in a typhoon. The shockwave flung the entire fleet far out, cast them helplessly beyond the fringes of the Yavin System, their computers fried, their propulsion systems wrecked, still accelerating from the storm of the Force.
Pellaeon’s fleet of Star Destroyers went … away.
Dorsk 81 also rode the storm—to its ultimate, unknown destination.
The Force dropped Kyp like a severed rope. All the Jedi trainees tumbled weakly to their knees. When he could see again, blinking through colored spangles in front of his eyes, he saw Dorsk 81—or what remained of him—still tottering at the center of the observation platform.
Though his own legs wanted to collapse, Kyp struggled forward to grab his friend. Dorsk 81 collapsed and fell against him. The two of them slid to the sun-warmed flagstones.
“Dorsk 81,” Kyp said, looking down in horror as the cloned alien’s skin sizzled from within, as if the tissues had been brought to a boil. Dorsk 81’s wide yellow eyes were now only smoldering sockets. Steam rose from his body.
A breath of words curled out of his gaping, blackened mouth. “They’re gone, my friend,” he said.
“Wait!” Kyp said.